rxgulusxarcturus-blog

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

( @dxrisprkiss )

WHERE: Outside the Magical Menagerie, Diagon Alley WHEN: October 4th, early afternoon

Regulus had been putting this off for weeks, since before graduation really. But it still seemed too soon. If he was going to move out of Grimmauld Place though, he would need a new owl. Ourania had died months ago now and he would soon lose access to his parent’s barn owl. He glanced into the glass window as he passed, dreading the incoming smell. Someone stood in front of the doorway, however, and he could not pass. 

“Pardon me, please.”

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

( @burbagecr )

WHERE: Flourish & Blotts WHEN: October 4th, just after shop opening

He specifically chose early morning to avoid the crowds and be able to peruse the packed shelves in peace. It seemed he was not alone, however, not completely. He had several books on his list today, and though he thought it unlikely they would be in stock, he wanted to make absolutely sure before needing to interact with an employee about a special order. He had ignored the person nearby for as long as he could, but she was standing in front of the shelf he needed now. 

“Excuse me, ma’am. I just need to see if they have something in stock.”

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

( @lucius-abraxas-malfoy )

LOCATION: Malfoy Manor DATE: October 3rd, late evening

Lucius watched the other, wondering what he was thinking about beneath the facade of reservation which matched his own. It was well crafted and molded, a necessity for a fellow thinker. Regulus was like him in so many ways, and Lucius almost found that comforting. However, he was self-aware enough to know that he couldn’t be lulled into security from similarity. Because he knew how calculating he was, and thus knew Regulus could be thinking of absolutely anything at the moment. One of his elves brought forward a pair of wine glasses filled with a good vintage. Lucius had enjoyed some scotch when he had first found out about the Dark Lord’s disappearance, but he was certainly not at liberty to enjoy hard liquor every night. He needed to be sharper than that. Still, a good Cabernet Sauvignon was complex enough to keep his attention as he spoke to the youngest Black cousin.

“Bellatrix? Unhelpful?” He asked, some bemusement pulling at the corner of his mouth. After all, it wasn’t unexpected that Bellatrix would have been less than comforting to Regulus. She was all zeal and single-mindedness. It was inspiring when applied to the right path, but it certainly wasn’t something that was at all helpful in some situations. “What did she say? A few have mentioned quite plainly that she has let her claws come forth in my direction.” Not unexpected, but irritating. He shook his head.

As Regulus brought up leadership, Lucius nodded. Leave it to the other to bring them right to where the discussion needed to go. “You’re right,” he answered. “But enthusiasm isn’t enough to run the group. Enthusiasm isn’t enough to make logical decisions in spite of what one’s emotions might want.” Shaking his head, he ran his hand through his pale hair, pressing it back from his face with a sigh. “And that’s what I fear with a few of the inevitable candidates.” Bellatrix included.

⇀ Almost unwillingly, Regulus’ lips pulled into a small smile as Lucius discussed Bellatrix. It was unusual for him to accept criticism of his family, but he knew Lucius well and knew he had a point. More unsettling though had been her reaction entirely. “She said quite little. Or shared quite little with me, at least, but I had the sense that it was all she knew. As if this was a surprise to her as well. It seemed genuine. I was surprised. I know the order of command is a little murky, but if Bellatrix was taken by surprise... I cannot help but feel as if this was not planned.”

Truthfully it was her reaction that had brought Regulus here at all. He would have bet money on Bellatrix at least knowing how they should proceed, as if his disappearance was strategy. Her lack direction had him worried about their situation, regardless of his own conflict. 

 “Which clearly leads us to where we go now.” He accepted the wine glass but held it in his hand, not yet taking a sip. “To be frank, Lucius, I am personally less concerned about who will be leading us as much as where they will be leading us to. If we do not disband, which I find unlikely at this moment, someone must take the lead, yes. But to what end?” These were the questions that had him burning inside. True, whoever stepped forward would likely determine their next route, and therefore the selection of that person was integral to the answers he wanted. Bellatrix, Lucius, Rodolphus, truthfully none of them instilled the same power and fear as the Dark Lord, and he was much less concerned about his own wellbeing with any of them at the helm. But if their goal was to find the Dark Lord... That was something he would need to work against. ↼

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

( @lucius-abraxas-malfoy )

LOCATION: Malfoy Manor DATE: October 3rd, late evening

Lucius gave a nod, inclining his head before gesturing that Regulus should follow him to the drawing room. Lucius always felt a surge of discomfort when showing his back to another wizard, but he forced it down for Regulus. After all, there had never been any indication of treachery from Narcissa’s young cousin, even if Lucius was the sort of person to expect in in the most unlikely of places. Still, as expected, he made it unscathed to the drawing room, where pages and parchment littered the top of the desk there. When he was finished, of course, the pages would be arranged in their proper order after he was sure that he had dried all of the ink. For now, though, in the midst of his speculation, Lucius thought that some measure of cacophony could be forgiven.

“I had hoped you’d say that,” he answered to Regulus’ request to help him. After all, there were few that Lucius trusted to be able to do what Lucius did. Regulus was well on his way to becoming one of them. He wouldn’t be so condescending as to call Regulus protege or anything of that sort, but he certainly wasn’t opposed to the notion of being mentor to someone so utterly like himself. “There’s quite a bit to do, and a few… kinks to work out?”

“But first,” he said, moving to lift the bottle of wine he had had brought up some time ago, “would you like to sit? Talk for a time?” He was sure that Regulus had opinions, and Lucius obviously had his own. There always seemed to be a level of calculation in Regulus that put Lucius on edge although he completely respected caution and a certain measured response to the world around him. “I can offer my ear and a good glass of wine.” And in exchange, he would likely offer his thoughts, as well. The could talk, then perhaps discuss the logistics dogging Lucius in this time of trial. Then, of course, there was the matter of gauging Regulus’ interest in what the next steps with the Death Eaters was. All in due time, Lucius was sure, the discussions would come to fruition.

⇀ Regulus could not help but notice the stark contrasts in their appearance as he followed Lucius into the drawing room. The older, paler man with almost white hair and then himself, darker in every way. Yet here they appeared to be on the same side, archetypes ignored. He motioned for a glass, agreeing that they had some things to discuss. That was why he was here, after all. 

The entire situation was nonsensical. Every golden tower built since his family discovered the Dark Lord had crumbled to the ground, and rightfully so. Yet they were surrounded by people who had no idea that it was merely gold plating covering every brick, disguising ugly black lies underneath. Regulus knew. And coming soon was the time to decide what to do with that knowledge - make it public, risk his standing, possibly his life or recognize their goals were more important than their methods. He had now the opportunity to pick a side, but cautious as ever, Regulus was unwilling to do so without fully understanding where Lucius stood on their leader.

“I suppose... I have the same questions as everyone else. Certainly Bellatrix was not particularly helpful this morning, which seemed unusual. Is he really gone? Permanently? It seems too unlikely.” Just how unlikely, Regulus felt he knew, even if he could not prove it. “And where does that leave the rest of us? This group is fully of... enthusiastic members. We need a strong leader if we are to continue.”  ↼

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

split i

It was just after Christmas, Regulus was about to turn five, and his parents had found his great grandfather’s bed in storage. It was a gift, they said, for his new room. A prized family heirloom to start the chapter in his life in which he lived separate from his brother.

Sirius had thrown a fit. Young, jealous, and forgetting he’d had his own birthday just a few months prior, he wanted a new bed as well. One of the most spectacular fights of their young childhoods ensued between the elder Black and his mother. Regulus said thank you and acted delighted, as he knew he should. But privately he thought he would give up everything he owned to be able to continue sleeping in the same room as his brother.

Nights turned terrible - cold and lonely in room that creaked in places it should not, without the gentle wheezing of another boy close by. Eventually Sirius calmed down enough to appreciate his own space, and Regulus hesitantly told him that he could come stay in his room at night whenever he wanted. It never happened, of course, but the first few months saw plenty of dark scampers back into Sirius’ room after their parents had gone to bed. Ever the careful one, Walburga always found two boys in two rooms every morning. Eventually he grew out of it, of course, but there were still nights during those long summers that he still yearned for the Slytherin dormitory, just to have the knowledge that someone else was close by. By the time he had the whole floor of Grimmauld Place to himself, Regulus could not remember a time when desired otherwise. Or so he said.

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

( @lucius-abraxas-malfoy )

LOCATION: Malfoy Manor DATE: October 3rd, late evening

The knock on his door interrupted Lucius from his rumination, a positive if only because it offered a reprieve from the constant mental machinations. If left to his own devices, Lucius was sure that he would simply fade into silence for some time until he was infallibly sure of himself. Fortunately, he was not left to his own devices. And the knock on the door, if he was right, belonged to a man–if only barely–that Lucius desperately wanted to see. As such, though the master of the Manor would normally await the diligence of one of his servants in attending to the knock, Lucius saw fit to exit the drawing room and make his way down the stone steps of the front hall himself. Of course, on the off chance that it wasn’t who he hoped, Lucius did let one of the elves be the one to open the door, but he remained only slightly out of the way of a clear view–best to avoid any sort of jinx, hex, or curse which might fly should the visitor prove dangerous. His elegant fingers rested on his own wand, but it was again hidden away when the visitor was, in fact, Regulus.

His wife’s cousin was actually one of the very elite few which Lucius was pleased to call friend. The pair of them possessed uncanny similarity, and Lucius even carried a kind of trust for the other–a hard-earned gift from the Malfoy heir if anything was. There was little doubt in Lucius’ mind, therefore, that he would have any sort of difficulty determining Regulus’ thoughts on how the Death Eaters should proceed. What was more, Lucius was anticipating that Regulus would be willing to accept some delegation of the work on which Lucius was already beginning. Their hands together would undoubtedly make the matter of logistics more palatable. What was more, with assistance from Regulus, Lucius could continue his campaign of sorts. He’d certainly have more time.

“Hello, Regulus,” Lucius greeted with a tone that was very near to warm. Polite, of course, but certainly with a marked familiarity. “Thank you for coming.” He let the corner of his mouth lift into a half smile before he stepped back to let the other in fully. “Are you well?” It was a necessary nicety, Lucius felt. After all, Regulus had graduated beyond pawn ages ago. Still, the small talk wasn’t something he wanted to linger long. “I was just in the drawing room working on the plans for having a meeting. In light of what’s happened, obviously one is necessary.”

⇀ Regulus was unprepared for his relief when Lucius himself opened the door. Given everything with Kreacher in the last few months, he was still uncomfortable to be reminded of just how integral house elves were to pureblood society, and therefore how much their absence was noticed. Furthermore, Lucius always seemed to match his own level of cool responsiveness. It was a quality that Regulus particularly appreciated in this moment.

“As well as can be expected, I presume. Certainly we are all more unsettled than usual.” He stepped through the doorframe returning the surface niceties that Lucius extended. The routine, the expected questions and equally expected responses - Regulus had never before more appreciated the social expectations within elite society. Not only did it waive an immediate need for him to spill answers that he was yet unsure he was willing to share, but the same structured dance between two friends felt even more comforting in light of such recent change.

He turned to face the older man and nodded. “Agreed. I would... like to hear where you have begun, if you do not object. This is a... difficult matter. I am always willing to be of assistance.” In a rare showing of submissiveness, Regulus attempted to portray nothing more than genuine interest in supporting Lucius’ cause rather than overstepping into hierarchical duties. Truthfully, he cared little at this moment for a Death Eater meeting or the plans Lucius had in store for them. He was much more interested in Lucius’ personal views, his coping and speculation, and whether or not Lucius could be trusted with everything he knew. Two days ago, Regulus knew exactly where he stood - research the potion, hide Kreacher, eliminate the object, attempt to confirm it was a Horcrux. Now, with the Dark Lord missing and even Bellatrix giving him little information... Everything had changed. And what remained was the blindless devotion that he so abhorred. Perhaps, however, Lucius was not as mindless as many of his comrades. Regulus could only hope. ↼

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

( @blackestlestrange​ )

Bellatrix’s hands clenched around her knife and fork, frustration gathering within her. Regulus’ questions were all legitimate, and yet, she had no answers. She knew nothing, except this: she had been with the Dark Lord on the night of the Duel. He’d told her nothing of his plans, had disappeared into the night without so much as a backwards glance, and when she’d tried to accompany him, he’d lashed out in rage, his words more biting than any curse could have been. It was only afterwards, with the rest of the Death Eaters, with the rest of the world, that she’d found out what had happened, and her lack of information was starting to drive her up a fucking wall.

“None of that fucking matters, Regulus,” she said hotly, pushing away her plate, her appetite gone. She got to her feet, too agitated to stay sitting, pacing around the room to get rid of some of her manic energy. “Who knows what and how they learned it is the last thing I care about at a time like this. We should be mobilizing, sending out search parties, scouring the whole fucking world to find him, but instead, we’re obeying the rules of this petty little ceasefire and dragging our feet to come up with a plan because, why? Because this whole army is clearly made up of a bunch of feckless cowards.”

She lit a cigarette with the top of her wand, exhaling moodily before saying, “Waste your time finding answers to the wrong questions if you so desire, but don’t expect me to help you in that endeavor.”

⇀ In an almost hallowed tradition between them, Regulus remained impassive as she seethed. His eyes tracked her across the room as she wore footprints into the rug, each step a declaration of anger and exasperation. He kept a loose hand on his wand in case she started destroying anything, as he tended to do with this particular cousin, but she kept better control these days than when she was younger. Marginally. Her reaction was exactly what he expected from her, half of it a repeat of every temper he’d heard over the last five years at least. Per their ritual, he responded with a firm calmness.

“If someone has betrayed us, Bellatrix, you should care. We mobilize, we search, we find him -- and then that same person alerts the rest of the world again. Gives them warning, allows the Ministry to reorganize responses and the Order to know they should re-gather. I am as distressed as you over this, but we will find him. And we can use his disappearance to our advantage in his return. But not if someone is feeding information to the other side. Tell me, do you truly not care if we have trusted a traitor?”

Spun words to bring her to his side, and distract her from the crushing need to - what was it? oh yes - ‘scour the whole fucking world’. Scouring could wait, should wait, should never happen. If he could rile her up into finding a possible turncoat, she would rage for days on that alone. But distracting Bellatrix’s focus from the Dark Lord was no easy task, and he would not be able to do it alone. Perhaps a talk with Lucius later would be beneficial. For now, however, he had a smoking, angry cousin throwing a tantrum in his dining room. 

“Take a moment and think this through, Bellatrix.” ↼

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

⇀ "with the addition of the qualitative nuances, theorem probably increased by--"

Regulus stopped breathing. He stared at the page, eyes boring into the last word, shoulders tense, a roaring in his ears threatening to overtake every other sense in his body. A voice he had not heard in well over a year was speaking. A voice he had not been sure he was ever going to hear again. A voice, placing a simple order at the counter, that destroyed any hope of continuing with the Advanced Arithmancy: Theory, Research, Practice, and Policy journal. A voice that likely meant he would never again return to this crepe shop, secluded perfection for reading and existing unbothered though it may be. 

A face carved from marble did not move when Sirius took a seat only three tables away. How in Merlin's power did Sirius find him here? For all that such concentrated time with muggles made Regulus slightly nauseated, the food was fantastic and he was specifically less likely to be found. No airs, no watching his words, no ensuring he was perfectly presented at all times. He could read and write in peace without any concern for other patrons. Until this moment, when a simple presence had frozen Regulus into an unmovable statue, unable to function. The twenty feet between them may be the smallest distance to have existed since Sirius was last at Hogwarts, chasm though it felt. 

Another voice overtook his memory, driving out all rational thought and the recognition of other sounds around him. "No son of mine betrays this family." Muttered with more hatred than Regulus had ever heard in his life, just moments before a dark smear bloomed across the tapestry and Regulus became the sole legacy of the Black Family name. Regulus tried desperately to avoid thinking about Walburga's curses and the weight of expectation placed upon him in that moment. The knowledge that he alone stood recognized by centuries of pureblood stature, the only male to carry on their name, held him to a standard even he questioned. For all their disagreements, Regulus never considered that his brother would actually leave him alone to bear the weight of everything they knew. Even in that moment, with Sirius raising hell out of the house for good, Regulus did not fully comprehend that Sirius had left him too. 

Here again he was avoiding recognizing another facet of the Black Family, the dark side of the moon he rarely actively acknowledged existing at all. The reminder that anyone can abandon you for doing nothing at all. He moved slowly, considering his next choice of actions. He could leave. He should leave. Sitting here would only prolong the likelihood that further memories would resurface, ones he much preferred to remain buried. Sirius remained between him and the door, however, and Regulus always elected to remain anonymous. His fingers moved delicately across the yellowed pages of the journal, shutting it as he finally, silently released a breath and tore his eyes away from the academics to face his brother for the first time. ↼

ETCHINGS ON YOUR CONSCIENCE ( by the hands that had them killed )

place | south bank of muggle london time | october fourth status | closed (  @rxgulusxarcturus  )

               There was something different about being in Muggle London, something that always quelled the fire burning in Sirius’s chest when the flame threatened to consume him wholly. Maybe it was the way Muggles always appeared so fixated on the problem directly before them, or how they could be oblivious to an entire war threatened to spill into their world. There was a simplicity to be found in the exhaust and soft drop of the rain on his cheeks, and that simplicity lulled Sirius back to the days before the war when his biggest concern was finding a way to talk himself out of detention. It left him with bittersweet nostalgia settling in the back of his throat that was difficult to swallow.                 Digging his hands deeper into his pockets, Sirius jogged across the street, ignoring the resulting honks of several cars as he darted out in front of them. The rain had started to warp from comfort to chill, and he sought shelter in what appeared to be some sort of pastry shop. He placed an order at the counter before finally taking a seat, restless energy finding a home in gentle music and the white noise of idle chatter all around him. It was peaceful – until he noticed a sight that made his heart leap from chest to throat.                 Seeing Regulus shouldn’t have this effect on him anymore. It shouldn’t freeze his blood, wrench his heart with a guilt that had been bred into him. But it did. More subdued reactions arose whenever he heard someone speak his name, or when a throwaway phrase jolted him back to the days where he would died for the boy. There’s no point in admitting that the knee-jerk reaction to protect was still ingrained in him, that he could feel a part of himself unwither and spread like ivy across the space between them. It was a part of his soul that Sirius Black had yet to ruin, though he tried his best.                 Over the past several years, an unspoken truce had befallen them. To save them the frustration and embarrassment of a fight, they ignored one another. There existed between them a plane that could never be transversed for it was full of half-baked lies and self-deception. It was a no man’s land, a place where the first to set foot would be shot down within a second. It was where weakness went to die, and Sirius had no intention of becoming a martyr this afternoon. 

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

I spent my life learning to feel less.

Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

xxcrabbe‌:

It was a surprise to see Regulus Black. She knew him of course, but on sight and not by actual intimate knowledge. How interesting that he should walk onto her office floor. The obliviator offices were often visited she supposed but his was—she could discover why or just play along. 

“Not at all, I’m happy for the company. As you can see it’s quiet today.” She looked around at all the empty desks and knew half were out on jobs, three or four were out to lunch and the rest had not showed up today. Maybe her job wasn’t as essential as others in the department as a whole but there was work to be done and no excuse not to be there today. Damn Prophet, people were so easily brought to their knees.

She was amused that he didn’t recognize her, even though they had not spoken much at all before this. She was there at the meetings, and the parties and felt somehow offended until telling herself he was just oblivious and it had nothing to do with her specifically. 

“Both are out on a job right now, I expect them to be back in two or so hours.” she replied with a shrug, glad to be able to help but if that was all he needed —

⇀ "Thanks, Carolina. I will check back in later for them.” He paused, glancing around again. Everything in him said to continue on through the day as normal, pretend he was fine. But that was his default in general, and he had to admit that the Ministry and Order were in a slightly different position than he at the moment. 

“Is it... normal for the law enforcement office to be more quiet when something like this happens? I suppose I thought there would be more of an uproar.” A stack of letters and three separate revisions waited for him on his desk, but this moment was too opportune to pass up. A few months into the Ministry and he was slowly working on interacting with other departments. He knew his name and family often placed preconceived notions on his temperament, so any opportunity to show a Polite Member of the Black Family was one he would utilize. Carefully, though. They had no family relations and the few interactions had been at meetings which the Ministry knew nothing about. As far as the public was concerned, Regulus could only possibly know of her in passing, and he would give no one reason to look more closely. ↼

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

( @lucius-abraxas-malfoy )

LOCATION: Malfoy Manor DATE: October 3rd, late evening

⇀ Given everything, he should be unsurprised that there had been little time in the day to interact with Lucius. The passing, “could I stop by this evening after dinner?” was all they could both manage. Not that Regulus had any intention of discussing anything in detail in the Ministry building - that would be entirely foolish and borderline dangerous. Still, it would have soothed his nerves to get a feel for where Lucius stood at the moment. Neither of them were particularly emotive, but he liked to think he could read Lucius a little better than the average person.

A crack landed him at the gate end of a long walk towards the manor. He skirted the nearest peacock and walked a little more quickly up the path. Something about the oversized creatures made him nervous. A few taps up the stairs, and he raised a hand to lift the knocker. Regulus held his breath in the wait. He had no idea what he should and should not share any more, and he hoped talking with Lucius would make things more clear. Everything had changed in the last 48 hours. Possibilities had started to elaborate in his brain, continuing without the Dark Lord, but it would take more organization and cooperation than he believed the other Death Eaters capable.

The door swung open and the tension inside him strung a little tighter. Answers were coming. ↼ 

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

( @blackestlestrange​)

“I’ll set the bloody table on fire if I like, thank you very much,” she grumbled before tucking into her breakfast, taking a rather unladylike bite out of her sausage and washing it down with a mouthful of orange juice. The news of what had happened had been sitting in her stomach like a pit, and only now was she finding her way back to her normal ravenous appetite.

As she cut into her eggs, she glanced up at Regulus, eyebrows raised. “They trust the Prophet as much as we do,” Bellatrix said haughtily. “That paper is a sedative for the masses, meant to lull them into a quiet, dreamless sleep. It hasn’t been a source of legitimate information since your parents were in diapers.” She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand before drawing her wand, and, with a swift jab in the air, she lit the paper on fire, the flame starting with Dumbedore’s face at the center of the front page before working its way outward.

Bella tapped her goblet, watching it refill to the brim with orange juice, not meeting her cousin’s eyes as he spoke. His question was a complicated one, and it incensed her that she didn’t have a legitimate answer, that she knew as much about the vanquishing of their master as the Prophet. But she’d first burn herself off the family tapestry than admit to ignorance. “Anything you hear from the others is hearsay, do you understand me?” Bellatrix said sharply, looking Regulus directly in the eye, her gaze unflinching. “Our mission has not changed. Our directives still stand. If anything, we’re the victors here, and we should press our advantage while we have the upper hand.”

⇀ Regulus stared at the disappearing paper dispassionately, holding the edges until the fire reached his fingertips. He dropped what remained and Vanished the mess before it caught anything else alight. He hadn’t even finished the crossword puzzle yet. How rude.

"I am well versed in critically evaluating information from unreliable sources. That is not what I asked. I simply wanted to know if you knew he was meeting Dumbledore. They could not have been just the two of them alone, otherwise how would we know that He was there? It said “You Know Who Claims Credit” - how did they get that information? Who told them it was the Dark Lord? Or that we have not heard from him since? Either someone was there or someone who knew he was going has leaked a lot of information. I’d prefer the former, obviously.”

For all her hotheadedness, the Dark Lord favored Bellatrix. Regulus was relieved to be able to ask some of this rather plainly without worrying about how it would appear, at least somewhatSomething about this all felt desperately wrong. Relief & paranoia warred within him. Even if the Dark Lord was actually missing, he couldn’t be gone for good. Regulus knew that, even if Bellatrix did not. This changed everything. He worried that he was the only one who could figure out what happened to the Dark Lord. Speaking aloud of the horcruxes was not something he ever planned, and now.... That was not milk you could un-spill, so to speak.

“I thought you might know something unreported, or had heard from the others. I obviously haven’t made it into the Ministry yet today to see anyone.” ↼ 

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

a roman companion

It took three full years. Three years of begging, of trying to trade in good behaviors, of remarking on how well behaved other dogs were. They promised to take care of it, to train it to do all sorts of tricks that would impress company. Seven fights, two attempts to run away, and three long years later, and finally a border collie showed up one Christmas Morning.

She was beautiful. Purebred, as any animal they owned must be. Perfect black circles across her eyes contrasted the white stripe down her nose. Her eyes a bright, clear blue. She learned her name quickly – Vesta. Another star in the Black sky. At eight and nine years old, the Black boys were ecstatic. They spent every waking moment with their girl and fought every night over who she got to sleep with. Walburga made it very clear - the dog was not allowed in their beds. But the floor nearby, where if they stretched hard enough they could just reach her, they each wanted her close enough to touch.

Sirius and Regulus made good on their promise. Hours of training left her incredibly well trained and extremely eager to please. It was clear, however, that through time and bonding, she preferred on boy over the other. Regulus wanted nothing more than for Vesta to adore him as much as he adored her, but every night she would creep into Sirius’ room and wait patiently for him to wake.

She waited outside the bathroom while he showered, she laid behind his chair at every meal. When they played outside, Vesta would only chase Sirius around the backyard. Regulus grew more and more weary of having to fight for her affection as he resigned himself to being second best.

When Sirius left for school, Regulus spent days trying to reconnect with her. Treats, bones, hours of petting and playing. He hoped that with Sirius gone, Vesta would need someone new to love. But she was as patient as she was loyal, and she simply waited until he returned for his first break home. Regulus thought Walburga was going to flay the dog alive for her loud yips and excitement when the now-slightly-taller Sirius walked through the door, but neither Sirius nor Regulus cares. Sirius was ecstatic to see her, and Regulus knew he should give up once and for all.

Twice Sirius fought to bring Vesta back to school with him, and twice he lost. Personally Regulus was glad for his parents’ decision - he didn’t think he could handle watching the dog he so loved follow Sirius around the school as well as home. Sometimes he felt bitter about the lack of affection, but mostly he was just sad. Vesta was supposed to be both their dog, and yet she only had eyes for the brighter star.

The night Sirius left she spent four solid hours staring at the door. Her tucked tail only moved once, when a cat outside knocked over a trashcan. She stared and stared, waiting for the doorknob to turn and reveal the pale face she so desperately wanted. But he would not return. By the next morning, Regulus was sick of seeing her sad face staring at the door and he yelled at her to move.

–“He’s never coming back, you idiot! You may as well stop waiting! He abandoned us both and he doesn’t even care! Get away from the door!”

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

xxcrabbe‌:

Date: 3rd October 1979 Location: Ministry for Magic; Law Enforcement level Status: Open

The prophet had caused such a stir, it was rather amusing. Her father told her to go about business as usual, fulfill her current duties and orders and wait for new ones. Someone would rise to lead them until the Dark Lord returned, and he WOULD return. It didn’t much matter to her who was in charge, she was the obedient daughter, the obedient soldier and she’d never been anything else, to their knowledge at least.

She went to work and the ministry was abuzz, hushed conversations in corners and several people had not bothered to show up at all. How odd, did speculation warrant a day off? After two jobs in the morning she took a break to eat her lunch, though her little desk was wide open to the room at large she was not bothered by the din, unpacking the food her mother had made when she noticed a familiar face entering the department’s main floor. She smiled at them, a welcome invitation for them to join if they had the time. “Afternoon.” She greeted politely.

⇀ Like the rest of the Ministry, the Law Enforcement office seemed more sparse than usual. Empty desks, low voices, as if the world had not kept turning. Mildly optimistic to think he could touch base with a few contacts today, but at least he was seen present in the offices. A blonde at the table was familiar enough to possibly be helpful. 

“I know it is rude to interrupt lunch, and I apologize for the intrusion. I’m looking for Augusta Holms or Alexander Jordan. Have either of them been present today? It does seem rather quiet...” He glanced around again. Of all the times for law enforcement to disappear, it was a disgrace to the name. People in grief or fear were far more likely to act out. This department was supposed to provide structure against such behavior. More uselessness to fix. ↼

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

⇀ There was an interruption to his morning routine. No one disreputable would be able to make it through the front door alive, he was therefore unconcerned about the identity of the incoming footsteps. Truly though, barely nine in the morning. Was it really too much to ask for a lemon scone, black tea, and a prophet update in peace? 

Ah, Bella. He should have known. House calls from the darkest cousin were rare, but recent events warranted even the brunette gracing the halls of Grimmauld Place it seemed. He was not sure if should be touched by the gesture or worried about what she might have to say now that she was here. 

“Ever the most charming use of language, Bellatrix. Do not scuff this table, it predates the Ministry itself.” He eyed the soles of her shoes before moving on. “I assume you are here because of exactly what this kindling reports. You know as well as I do that it is important to know what information the other side believes to know.” There was no emphasis on believes other than in Regulus’ own mind. The general population was far too dimwitted for his taste and they drank the bile coming from the Prophet like ambrosia.

Kreacher returned with a plate and set it in front of the woman, along with a goblet and silverware. A tap refilled the orange juice pitcher. The elf looked to Regulus, who nodded his approval for the elf to leave. Alone again, Regulus returned to the conversation at hand. He hesitated for a moment, opening his mouth slowly. Tread carefully. Ask only what she wants to hear. “What... have you heard? Was anyone else there?” ↼ 

Location: Grimmauld Place Time stamp: October 2nd, 1979 @rxgulusxarcturus

Grimmauld Place was exactly the same as it always was – austere and unforgiving, and, in Bella’s opinion, an eye sore on the neighborhood for anyone who had the misfortune of seeing it. Why Walburga and Orion had opted for city living, Bellatrix had never understood. Regardless, she crossed the threshold, lowering her hood and raising her wand to illuminate the hall. Despite floating candles at marked intervals, the place was always dismal and dark.

She was, begrudgingly, looking for Regulus. She hadn’t seen him since the news of the Duel had reached public knowledge, and she just wanted to check off her bases, make sure her family was in tact. Bellatrix didn’t trust this ceasefire for a second. Despite the relative peace, all of her instincts were alight with paranoia and scrutiny, and she wouldn’t be able to rest until she saw that her family was all accounted for.

Bellatrix struck gold on her first try, entering the dining room and finding Regulus there with a copy of the Prophet. Just as she entered, Kreacher came in, holding a plate of steaming breakfast. He saw her and immediately bowed his head in reverence. “Mistress Bellatrix,” the elf croaked. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Leave us,” she commanded sharply. But then, on second thought– “Bring me a plate. I could murder a sausage.” With Kreacher gone, Bellatrix frowned at Regulus, her scrutiny obvious. “That paper is good for kindling and nothing else,” she remarked, kicking her feet up on the table as she did so. It’d piss the hell out of Walburga if she was home, and the thought brought Bella a fair amount of amusement. “Why the fuck are you still reading it?”

[rxgulusxarcturus-blog]

Your house must be slytherin