C: Regulus Black. - Blog Posts

Severus blinked with a ‘who, me?’ look on their face. ‘ I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, ’ said the cat that ate the canary. ‘ You must be exhausted. Being dead for 5 years will do that to you. ’ They were both products of Slytherin House, where privacy was only as respected as the protections around it. If Black wanted to keep his thoughts to himself, well, with due diligence he certainly could.

Severus conjured a desk chair (wheels, armrests, and all) that they dragged closer to the young man before they sat down, legs crossed at the knee, and leaned back. The air shifted palpably in the room, Severus was no longer interrogating a potential threat, they were catching up with an old acquaintance. A corner of their lips lifted at being called contrary, only a little too pleased with themself. ‘ Just twelve, ’ they said, ‘ for now. ’ If Severus dared to dream of what they would do after the war, it was this: make new spells. And potions, and wards, and artifacts. One day they might outweigh the violent magic they’ve written into the world.

If Severus was taken aback by Black’s following confession — and a confession is what it was, quiet and honest, however else Black chose to frame it later — they didn’t show it. Black had stumbled through epiphanies of his own since Severus had last seen him, not unlike the ones Severus had worked through themself to get here. ‘ What a surprise, ’ said Severus, ‘ look who had a change of heart, now. It’s only been 5 years, Black, what happened to you? ’

Severus listened intently as Black spoke. They watched him without blinking as the words sank in. They remained carefully impassive, face empty of all emotion.

I found something out. Something that could be fatal to someone I swore to serve.

For one ferocious moment Severus wanted to pin Black down and empty his mind of all knowledge and memory, comb through his thoughts with tedious care, and pluck it’s secrets out one by one until they found what they were looking for. The moment passed. Reckless, Severus thought. Unlike most of the people they dealt with, Black knew of their Legilimency. A delicate hand was needed.

Severus hummed. ‘ Better late than never, I suppose. Only a few hundred died since your great discovery, but I’m sure you’ll carry their deaths with dignity, and such, and all. ’ They waved a hand to encompass the such and the all. Guilt over strangers did not factor into this at all, Severus suspected. Something happened to someone who mattered to Black, or Black thought it did, or would. That was what sprang the young man from the grave, or else his secrets would’ve died with him. But that was a question for another day. ‘ What did you find? ’

wrongdeor​:

Severus held the other’s gaze as he spoke his name, looking for snippets of memory, a passing thought that would reveal them to be a pretender. There was no distance between the mind he looked into and the name Regulus Black. This was, at worst, someone who fully believed they were the dead Heir of the House of Black. At best —

Doubt, despite itself, dissipated rapidly once Regulus opened his big bloody mouth, and the most ridiculous taunts left his lips. Hm, yes. There he was, the impossible brat. Severus almost grinned, suddenly, but schooled his features back down to impassivity. His shoulders relaxed just a little. 

He raised an eyebrow. ‘ I got sick of being told what to do, ’ Severus said, ‘ and treachery sounded grand. A better question would be why not, really. ’ He waved a hand flippantly. ‘ It goes better with my nature, yes? Halfbloods and their shaky convictions, and all. I suppose your darling Bella was right about me all along. ’

He walked up to the littlest Black, arms crossed, a slight cant to his head. He intended to look menacing, but his guard was down, and his tone was more inquisitive than accusatory: ‘ You, on the other hand, heir to name and to fortune — how does this go with yours? ’ What are you doing here, Regulus?

*

“Oi,” Regulus asked, leaning forward on that couch he’d rather burn than sit on again, “are you in my head?” He looked at the other, scanning their shoulders, their mouth, their general now-lost tension. “You are, aren’t you? You seem very pleased with yourself there, Severus,” Regulus added with a scowl that was patently false in sincerity and transparent to the thing he might label joy beneath it. “Figures you’d go poking.”

Regulus’ head fell back onto the couch, eyes sliding shut against his will yet following it at the same time. The duality of conscious and unconscious desires playing out in that one simple movement. He’d been worried, before, but whatever Severus was here to do, he’d do it without alerting the entire damn estate to it. That was safety enough for Regulus to close his eyes. Not despite Severus, but because of Severus.

“You always were a contrary little bugger,” Regulus agreed. “It was never enough to make one spell, no you had to make, what? Eleven, twelve of the things?” Regulus sighed, rocking his head back and forth on the couch in the best approximation he could of a shake. “Bella did turn out to not be right about much,” Regulus said quietly, “and I don’t think she was right about that.” That was entirely too much honesty for this conversation. Regulus was going to blame the sleep-deprivation if it was brought up.

“Treachery is quite the lark though, I must admit that. Always something done in a flurry of springtime fancy like a Hufflepuff after a pastry. Knees knocking together with the sugar high and excitement of it all.” Regulus shook his head again, choosing honesty, blunt and brittle a tool though it was. “I went researching. Volunteered a friend for something I never should have. Nearly lost him and found more than I should have in those books.”

Cracking open one eye through its leaden weight, Regulus looked at Severus. “I found something out. Something that could be fatal to someone I swore to serve. I nearly died for it and didn’t bother sharing it until now.” That eye closed again. “Don’t go blabbing that around, not even to Evans. Especially not to Evans. Strictly need-to-know, that. Might interfere with my future ambitions if it gets out and then I’d really have to hex you with something you didn’t make up.”

regulus-blacked​:

There were three people that Regulus had once worked with that he considered an ally, perhaps even a friend. One of which he’d been related to, which effectively knocked that number down to two. One of them was standing in front of him now in a place they had no reason to be, with knowledge he had no reason to have. It set Regulus’ teeth on edge. The idea of being played by someone he considered… Unlikely to spell him in the back set his stomach rolling and wrapped his lungs in iron. 

The part of it that ate at him most was how badly Regulus wanted Severus to be here as a friend.

“No question is stupid if you’re talking it to an idiot,” Regulus remarked. Severus was clever. Regulus knew that, admired it even, but it wasn’t like he was going to say that. Leaning back against the back of the somewhat lopsided couch he’d been deposited on, he looked at the other person and allowed the blatant inspection of his general existence. “Surprised,” he asked, raising one eyebrow. “I feel about twice as dead as I am, so I guess it balances out. Why in the name of Merlin, Morgana, and Arthur are you here?”

Severus held the other’s gaze as he spoke his name, looking for snippets of memory, a passing thought that would reveal them to be a pretender. There was no distance between the mind he looked into and the name Regulus Black. This was, at worst, someone who fully believed they were the dead Heir of the House of Black. At best —

Doubt, despite itself, dissipated rapidly once Regulus opened his big bloody mouth, and the most ridiculous taunts left his lips. Hm, yes. There he was, the impossible brat. Severus almost grinned, suddenly, but schooled his features back down to impassivity. His shoulders relaxed just a little. 

He raised an eyebrow. ‘ I got sick of being told what to do, ’ Severus said, ‘ and treachery sounded grand. A better question would be why not, really. ’ He waved a hand flippantly. ‘ It goes better with my nature, yes? Halfbloods and their shaky convictions, and all. I suppose your darling Bella was right about me all along. ’

He walked up to the littlest Black, arms crossed, a slight cant to his head. He intended to look menacing, but his guard was down, and his tone was more inquisitive than accusatory: ‘ You, on the other hand, heir to name and to fortune — how does this go with yours? ’ What are you doing here, Regulus?

News traveled fast, especially in an organization as small as this one, but not fast enough as far as Severus was concerned. He made his way to the Prewett estate as soon as he heard, not ready to believe until he saw — and asked, and checked, and tested — for himself with his own two eyes.

The door clicked open, and Severus stepped inside. 

He looked at the young man in silence. It was strange, like walking into a room where everything was slanted sideways and stuck that way. He and Regulus Black were never friends. But they were in the trenches together, for years. As much as ‘together’ could count for anything among the Death Eaters. (And apparently it counted for something, Severus thought, teeth gritting together. He let the hope roll through him like an unpleasant potion he couldn’t un-swallow.) 

‘ If I was here to kill you, you wouldn’t have time to ask stupid questions, ’ he said, the door swinging shut behind him as he strode into the room. He stood in front of the newcomer, arms crossed, scanning him from head to toe without any effort to be discreet. Then he looked him in the eye. ‘ Regulus Black. ’ He didn’t move. An invisible hand passed over the other’s mind with light fingers, a pick-pocket of thoughts. ‘ You don’t look half as dead as I was told you were. ’

a closed starter for @wrongdeor​

location: the prewett estate

when: june 19th, 1984

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours. Or, at least, Regulus was fairly sure it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, though that may have been the remains of the haze of adrenaline and sleep deprivation that now dogged his footsteps as he was entirely unwilling to sleep in this place, no matter how Moody or Jones or anyone had attempted to assure him of his safety. He might as well have been frozen to the seat they’d left him in for all he’d been convinced to move from it. At least it was against the wall with an easy view of the door. 

There was no telling what the room might hold, what might be hidden behind faded wallpaper and the sun-bleached outline of rugs. Regulus was not someone typically prone to extensive worries, not with the curiosity that made every day something new. That didn’t apply here. It was unfamiliar and filled with people who expected him to take a great deal purely on their words and promises.

The person that he saw when he looked over from where his gaze had been fixed between two floorboards, one curling up and the other missing a nail, was not who he’d expected. Oh, he’d known this so-called Order attracted strange kinds. It brought him into its folds after all, but there were only so many familiar faces he expected. Severus Snape was not one of them.

“Severus?” It was a question more on whether or not he was tired enough to start hallucinating. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time in his life. “Severus, what are you… Why are you here?” He stopped and all the color drained from Regulus’ face. “Are you here to kill me before I can speak to anyone?” He didn’t want that to be true. He’d liked Severus towards the end of all that, admired their mind and their ability to rival him in his worst moods, but the reasons for him to be sharing a room with them were slim. He didn’t trust it.

shake it out // florence + the machine

For you, controlling your power is like finding peace.

                                     and behind the mask of m a t u r i t y                                                        that you wear,                                     a pair of eyes belonging to a ( CHILD )                                          stares back at you in the mirror.

                                                 you are not a warrior,                                                           MY LOVE,                                                  you are merely a boy.

they made you into a weapon and told you to find peace

unfinished poems iii // s.z (via mrdcks)

It seems, the more crowded it gets here, the lonelier I become.

wordsbyt  (via wnq-writers)

Palo Alto (2013)