As He Approached The Table, Whatever The Patrons Had Been Muttering Ceased And Their Conversation Dried

With each passing day, Regulus could no longer deny the growing feeling of resentment that he felt. He felt like a pawn being moved about on a chessboard by different players, all with little care for his feelings or wellbeing. Theoretically, Regulus knew that there were people who cared for him...but the way that seemed to manifest was driving him further away. He had never been quite so lonely in all of his life, and he feared that if he disappeared the next day nobody would know to look for him for some time. Something had to change, but he was in too deep. He'd been in too deep since his mother had frogmarched him in front of the Dark Lord and practically held his arm still for the mark to be burned into him.

His posture was rigid, but Regulus kept one hand in his pocket where his wand lay. He was certain that this office was warded and full of protective charms that would work in Edgar's favour, but if things were to turn nasty he wanted to at least give himself a fighting chance to escape. "I would prefer to stand, thank you," Regulus said, standing just behind the empty chair. "I thought the matter from the other day was settled, I'm not sure what further questions there are to be asked."

Eyeing the photo of the Black family heirloom that Edgar was showing him, Regulus summoned every inch of pureblooded training that his parents had painstakingly instilled in him to keep his expression clear. "I spoke freely and of my own accord last time. I swore to the truth of my words. I'm sorry Mr Bones, but I can't assist you any further."

It was the look in the wizard's eyes from their initial meeting with both the Black brother's and he could tell there was something more, but it was going to take a little coaxing to bring it out. Sirius Black had proven himself within the order and there was this nagging feeling in the back of his head that perhaps the younger one, he could be an asset to how they could learn how to defeat the Dark Lord. This meeting could blown up in his face or it could be what they needed.

Edgar closed the door behind Regulus when he came into his office, a different ward of charms floating around them to conceal the room for ears that should not be listening. "Mr. Black, do have a seat." He gestured to the empty chair before moving around the desk to take his seat. "I had a few more questions and thought it was best if it was a conversation between the two of us." A pause. "I won't keep you too long. I understand how important your work is."

It has long been suspected that certain Black's were more than they appeared to be, aligning in an allegiance opposite of his. He pulled out pictures of the item that they were being questioned about last time. "I thought you might be more willing to talk freely about this."

Much of the war was still being conducted in shadow. The Dark Lord had not made a grand claim for power yet, he hadn't grasped at the ministry - those things would come. The fact that the Dark Lord wanted to keep his true plans hidden for now didn't change the fact that people were being cut down on battlefields, that people had life changing injuries, and families were being shattered in the process. It was war in every way, and it was growing worse with each passing day. As Caradoc fell silent, Regulus picked his wand up again and continued patching up his boyfriend as best as he could. He wasn't an outstanding healer, but it would do for now.

"You did what you had to in the heat of battle. When faced with opponents who will use the killing curse without thought, sometimes stunners simply won't work. They may not be able to find out. He does have a daughter," Reg nodded in confirmation. "But if there weren't witnesses, they may not be able to figure it out." He froze at Caradoc's pleading, and he was torn. He wanted to protect Caradoc, but he knew that it was putting himself at unnecessary risk. "...I promise," he said after a beat of silence. "But if they come for you, I will fight on your side. I want you to know that. If it means breaking my cover early...we'll just have to deal with it."

“This is war.”

For some reason, those words of Regulus’s rang in his ears. Memories of his father teaching him about all of Britain’s wars, but mainly World War I and World War II, in the hot summer air, flashed through his mind. Stories of fallen soldiers, the looks on his parents faces when he solemnly told them about the war in the Wizarding World and the danger muggle-borns and muggles were in. Instead of understanding him, accepting him like he thought they finally might, they just held Caradoc’s younger siblings tighter and told him that if he wasn’t going to give up a life of magic, he could leave. They didn’t express any concern at all for their eldest son or the position he was in.

“I killed a Death Eater,” he repeated, a little louder this time as he had to repeat it to believe it. “The Death Eaters will find out and they will want to know who did it. He—he has a daughter, I think. I don’t know if she’s aligned with the Death Eaters or not. I should look into that . . . Somehow, I’m in even more danger than before. Reg, you have to promise me you won’t do anything risky. If you try to protect me, they’ll know you’ve betrayed them.” He looked at his boyfriend with pleading eyes. “I can’t lose you.”

Knowing that Pandora got truly stuck into her work, Fenrir wondered if there was some benefit to teaching her some additional warding magic. He was sure that her older brother would've taught her well, if her parents hadn't, but the fact he had stumbled across her entirely unprotected...well. Pandora wouldn't turn her nose up at his dirty magic the way that the other pure-bloods did, who would brush off his offer due to his blood and his lack of magical education - as if attending Hogwarts made some of them any better than he.

"Oh darling, I know you like wild beasts," Fenrir murmured lowly, his gaze lazily resting on the woman. "Is that a command, or a request? And will this be business, or pleasure?" he said, attention turning to the object she'd been working on. Fen let Dora pull him closer, noting the look in her eyes that told him she was still focused on magic. "Is there anything I can do to help finish it off?"

Amber hues pulled away from the clock placed on the stone, that looked more like a table, to the direction of Fenrir who was closing the distance between them. That is when she realised that she had not set up her wards to warn her of others close by. She had been too eager to further replicate what happened earlier. That was a mishap on her side.

"Perhaps I like wild." The corners of her mouth turn into a coy smirk. The lack of fear that consumed Pandora would concern others, but for herself, she embraced it to her advantage. "Then you will be mine for the night." She was eager to see if she could get the same reaction she did with Bellatrix with the spells she had manipulated, already twisting the threads to strengthen the new spell. Absentmindedly the witch bridges the gap and reaches for his hand to pull him over to the object. "I wish you could see what I do. It was so close to working earlier. I need this to work. "

With the confessions he had made to Edgar, Regulus knew that this was it now. He had to entirely commit to this betrayal of all he had ever known, otherwise he was certain that he would quickly he detained and this encounter would be shown to the Wizengamot via pensieve. He wasn't in a position yet to truly trust Edgar, though he believed that Sirius knew and trusted this man based on what Edgar had said and that had to count for something. He could live a double life for a while, but there was only so long that he would be able to maintain that facade before it broke him in two.

"And what do you expect that will look like? Will I have to spend my life in hiding?" Andromeda and Sirius managed to live a public life from what he knew, but they had not actively betrayed the Death Eaters. They had never been marked, and they had certainly not shared highly confidential information to assist the aurors in capturing other Death Eaters. He was terrified as to what came next, yet he knew it was still the right decision.

Regulus' shoulders were full of tension as he expected Edgar to press for names that he did not want to give, and he slumped back against the chair with relief when Edgar didn't press. "Ensure you are there early. Muggles will be present, so the less casualties, the better. That's fine. I trust that my identify as a source will be confidential. The less people who know about this for now, the better. I am not ready to leave my family behind yet."

The confessions that were being made within his charmed office could have the young wizard locked up at Azkaban, constant state of his happiness being drained from him. The only saving grace for Regulus Black, was the notion of removing him from a side that only cared for darkness and distraction and reunite him with his family that would be grateful to have him, despite the demons he was trying to hide. They all had their demons that they fought, different from each other.

"I suppose there is only one way to find out." After his shift, he would make meet with the other Sirius brother and have a chat with him. There was no need to hide any truth, better prepare those when it all came to light.

"We will only do so where you feel safe, from there, we will pull you back and you will be done with that part of your life." The information provided did not need to be much, enough that their suspicions about some could come to public knowledge, making it a little harder for the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord's cause.

Edgar was a little disappointed that there would be no names, but the information that came afterwards, it was plenty enough. A flick of his wrist, a quill came out with some parchment, scribbling down what was being said through magic. "I will have my men ready for that." He would do a little more digging to see what would be happening that night. His head nods at the mention of Knockturn Alley, it was a given with the constant rumours of death eater activity. "I think that is enough. I will need a day to sort out protection for you." He had an idea of who, but it was about having a meeting with them first regarding their mission.

As his victim hit the ground, a vicious smirk carved itself onto Fenrir's face. While he wanted to relish in the screaming of his victims there would be time for that later once they had extracted their mark. His gaze followed Thorfinn as he crept through the house, and he cast a swift cushioning charm on the ground to prevent too much noise alerting those upstairs. The last thing they needed was their mark apparating away.

Comfortable that the ground floor was now clear, Fenrir began creeping up the stairs. One guard stood in front of a closed door, and there was a brief moment of surprise on his face before another diffindo sliced the man's head cleanly from his shoulders. Casting a glance into two empty rooms, Fenrir gestured towards the last door which was firmly closed. His alohamora bounced off the door, and he turned to see if Thorfinn was following behind him. "The others are all in there. Four against two. We're going to have to blast through the wards."

Thorfinn stood patiently, counting down the seconds in his head before he apparated in with Fenrir. He could feel his fingers itching to get dirty and to cause some pain. This was what he longed for, what he craved, and an outlet he welcomed. The blonde followed behind the other, mask over his face, a smirk underneath at the destruction already in place.

He moved through the cabin, coming around the corner to where another law enforcement appeared. A disarming charm used, following his fellow death eater's way, a silence charm placed to hide the noise and with no warning, the unforgiveable death curse uttered, watching his assailant collapse to the ground. Two down, meant there were four more inside.

Regulus didn't want to feel this seemingly unending bitterness towards his brother. He didn't want to poke and prod at Sirius, not when he still secretly wanted his older brother's approval - though he knew he would never truly receive it. It seemed that no matter what he did, he would never make anyone happy - including himself. Sirius' silence would've concerned Regulus another time, and he was sure that when he returned home he would dwell on what it all meant, but for now Reg chose to sit in the awkwardness of the atmosphere between them. "And why would I have more run ins with the auror, brother? What are you accusing me of?" Regulus challenged, his gaze stony and hard.

"And take the rest of the family history with it? It's our story, Sirius, whether you like it or not," Reg shrugged. He wasn't liking it so much these days, but he still found the history on the tapestry interesting. He wondered how many of their ancestors had doubts like he did, buried deep inside. "If you're insistent that you aren't going to take it, there's little point in you being here and waiting for the aurors to deem us worthy of their time. You might as well go," he suggested, hoping to rid himself of this awkwardness.

Sirius was glad to be facing away as his brother spoke, a frown falling onto his face before he could control his expression. It seemed impossible that he had always been such a failure, a remarkable disappointment to his parents, and yet somehow they'd been using him as a bar to reach to. He felt guilt twist in his stomach despite all the years he'd spent trying to convince himself that his parents' behaviors were no fault of his own. It was harder to keep that belief up when he heard the bitterness in Regulus's tone. He was silent a beat too long, completely unsure what to say, and Regulus filled the silence with talk of the aurors. "I don't know," he shrugged, happy to move onto a new subject. "I'm sure you have a lot more run ins with them than I do." Working in the pub and keeping a relatively straight life meant most of his run ins with aurors were just them picking up people who were drunk and dangerous.

"She should have burned it down," he muttered, frowning to himself. Sirius was almost surprised the tapestry was still standing, sure it must just be a constant reminder of all the disappointments the Black family was starting to gather; his betrayal just the most recent. "Maybe it has both of our names on it or something," he sighed, lolling back in the chair again. "Or someone died and left us something." Though he couldn't think of many family members who would leave them both something. Just as he thought it the door swung open and Sirius went back to lolling lazily in the chair - the perfect image of unbothered.

Fenrir turning Remus had been nothing other than revenge for the vile way Lyall Lupin had treated him. As a young adult, he had known that turning Lyall would not be enough suffering for the older man - no, it would do more damage to turn his young son and watch that boy become everything that Lyall hated. Lyall quickly changed his tune - Remus, as far as Fenrir knew, was not on the werewolf register and his condition had largely been kept secret. So much for his allegation that werewolves deserved nothing but death, for Remus stood before him, in adequate health.

Remus' ongoing resistance towards Fenrir was understandable, and yet he felt sorrow that the younger man continued to choose suffering. Werewolves were pack animals, they were not meant to be solitary creatures. When they were alone, they would turn on themselves and rip themselves to pieces as Remus appeared to be each month.

Letting his hand drop as Remus shoved it off, Fenrir crossed his arms as he let the other man shout, not bothering to interrupt. He let him run his course, staring calmly at the other man's explosion of anger. "Look at me, Remus. Do I look like I'm covered in scars? Do I look like I'm suffering? The full moon was two nights ago, and I am in perfect health. I don't need to take healing potions the following morning, I wake up and I can get on with my life. My five year old son copes better with the changes than you do, because you are resisting who you truly are. You make this so much worse than it needs to be. I have control over myself when I turn, the pack helps with that. We're not meant to be alone, Remus. A sole werewolf suffers, but one with a pack...it's beautiful. You may think I'm demented, you may think I've lost my mind...maybe I have. But I am not the one suffering needlessly every month. I live a full and happy life. My son has a better existence than you appear to - because he has accepted his species, and runs free each full moon. There is a pack that will accept you. And if you don't want to be in a pack under me, there is a pack in Scotland that would accept you. You don't have to live like this."

Remus had nothing but hatred for Fenrir and hatred wasn't something he took lightly. Fenrir was the only one in that class. Even Voldemort was something different. He didn't understand how anyone could think it right to curse a young child to become something he would be his entire life. It was cruel and selfish. That's all Fenrir was. That's all he ever had been. Remus was living proof if he had ever dared reveal what he was to the masses. The people who knew were the only ones that needed to know.

Remus felt his broken bones and scars flare up as the older werewolf touched him. His body shivered and shook. He tried to hold steady, not wanting Fenrir to know he had such an effect on him but his body was letting him down. But there was something else in the shaking -- anger. He clenched his fists wanting to hurt the werewolf. How dare he touch him. He had already done enough to ruin Remus' life. He didn't deserve to touch the younger man.

He finally turned around, red with fury and shoved Fenrir's hand off his shoulder. "Not meant to be difficult?! Are you out of your bloody mind? Our bones tearing apart each month? Scars showing up and not knowing where they came from? Internal injuries we can't go to the hospital for because we have no good excuse? Our bodies rejecting us? Attacking the innocent? How is that not difficult?! How is that beautiful?!" Remus took his clenched fists and punched them together. "You're demented to think we're a superior race. We have no control of what we are! We're -- we're -- we're freaks of nature."

"It's what?" Regulus said haughtily, tilting his head slightly in question. A smug smile of victory tugged at his lips as James disappeared, and he returned to browsing in peace. Said peace was quickly broken by the reappearance of Potter, and Regulus sighed deeply. "Oh...that would be a shame wouldn't it. How desperately do you need it?" Regulus asked, stepping a little closer to James as he narrowed his eyes before he turned back to the shelf. A wave of pettiness washed over him, and he began placing all of the vials of Jewelweed into his basket. "I'm brewing a lot of potions at the moment, you see," he said, with an air of nonchalance. "Maybe I'll buy up Diagon Alley's stock of pyjamas too, and then I'll start owling you a pair of pyjamas every day until you can hardly move for pyjamas."

"Regulus, that's ––-" James paused and looked at him for a moment. A hand went to ruffle his hair. "Alright, then. Whatever you want," he said, and, with a sigh, he slinked away. Inevitably, he returned moments later. "They said everything that's in stock is already out on the shelves. So if you want to buy everything here, which... I mean, you were here first. You're entitled to do so. But just know you'd be hoarding all the Jewelweed supply in London." All James heard was that he was on Regulus' mind. Why was that thought making his heart beat a little faster in his chest? He told himself to relax. "I assumed as much. We're in a potions shop, after all. Didn't think you were looking for a new pair of pyjamas."

The brief flash of guilt in Caradoc's eyes that quickly got masked by pain once more made Regulus frown, but he would press for more information on that once he had dealt with the more immediate issues. "You're hurt, that is a big deal," he said, kicking the door closed behind them as soon as Caradoc was in from the cold.

Regulus settled Caradoc onto the couch, pressing a kiss to his forehead before he stood again to look his boyfriend over with an analytical eye. "Don't be daft. I can brew more potions, I can't find another Caradoc," Reg said, his tone stern enough to let Caradoc know that he wouldn't take no for an answer on this. "I think....let's deal with the splinching first, unless you have anything more serious? There's too much blood, I can't tell what's what," he said, rifling through the bottles he'd summoned to find his essence of dittany.

Kneeling before Caradoc, Reg moved the scraps of his trousers aside to get a clear look at the wound. Being unable to go to St Mungos after Death Eater missions had led Regulus to learn some basic healing, but he wasn't sure how much good he'd be here. "It might sting, okay?" he said, pulling the stopper out of the bottle before he dropped two drops of the essence on Caradoc's leg.

And here, the guilt was seeping in. One didn’t have to be a genius to tell that Regulus had been asleep, or at the very least planning to go to bed soon. Here Caradoc was, interrupting and bleeding out. “‘S no biggie,” he mumbled as he leaned against his boyfriend, thankful for the assist. It was only when he was inside that he realized just how cold it had been out there.

“Mission. It went sideways. I was with a couple other Aurors — told them to apparate and get help and I stayed behind . . .” He trailed off, trying to spare Regulus anymore of the details. Plus, he didn’t particularly want to think about it himself.

As they reached the living room, Caradoc let out a sigh of relief and leaned his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “This is enough, Reg. Don’t waste any of your potions on me,” he said, just happy to be here.

"no one man should have all that power"

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Kingsley Nathaniel Shacklebolt NICKNAMES: Kings AGE: 29 GENDER: Cis Male PRONOUNS: He/Him

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Yetunde 'Dea' Shacklebolt FATHER: Nathaniel Adewale Shacklebolt SIBLINGS: Sade Shacklebolt (younger sister)

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Michael B Jordan BUILD: Tall and stocky. HAIR COLOR: Dark brown. EYE COLOR: Dark brown. DOMINANT HAND: Right. ANOMALIES: A deep scar on the right side of his ribs from a battle injury that didn't heal fast enough. FASHION: Deep colours (dark green, royal purple, navy blue) in clothes that he can easily run and fight in. NERVOUS TICS: Twisting the rings that adorn his fingers.

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: Godric's Hollow BORN:  Shacklebolt Family Home RAISED:  Shacklebolt Family Home PETS: A black cat called Storm.

CAREER: Auror EMPLOYER: Ministry of Magic POLITICAL AFFILIATION: The Order of the Phoenix

DRUGS: Never SMOKES: Occasionally after a long day at work ALCOHOL: Kingsley is fond of a rich red wine, or a smoky whiskey. DIET: Varied. Kingsley did try a vegetarian diet briefly, but quickly reverted back to his old ways.

LANGUAGES: English, French, Spanish.

FEARS: Kingsley fears his sister and his nephew being used against him as the war grows darker. HOBBIES: Kingsley is almost always at work, but when he's not he enjoys wizard's chess and reading muggle books.

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Ravenclaw. WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 10 and one quarter inches, Ash wood, unicorn tail hair core, flexible. PATRONUS: Lynx. BOGGART: A dark version of himself, with the dark mark burned into his arm.

Bio:

From a very young age, Kingsley Shacklebolt began to feel a sense of difference. His parents introduced him to other magical purebloods his age, but Kingsley always felt like he was on the outside of it all, more content to sit under a tree and read than run around in the mud or zoom about on toy broomsticks. His parents raised him to be better, whispering ideologies of supremacy and otherness. What his parents didn't know is that Kingsley had befriended a local muggle boy, who was teaching Kingsley aspects of the world that his parents would never allow him to know.

The weight of being an eldest brother was something that settled comfortably on Kingsley's shoulders. Sade was always trailing around after him, but he didn't mind too much. They had a closeness that it seems their parents had underestimated, especially when the two of them banded together. Sade was only two years younger than himself, but he was determined that she would grow up to reject their parents prejudices the way that he had.

At Hogwarts, the sense of difference from his peers became quickly evident. His wandless magic as a child had been incredibly strong, and on one occasion Kingsley had been able to actively control the magic rather than it being guided by his emotions. His magical skill quickly developed in Ravenclaw house, and Kingsley found himself topping each class amongst the many extra-curriculars he engaged in. His power and skill did not go unnoticed, and some of his peers in Slytherin house had tried to recruit Kingsley to their pureblooded gangs. When it became evident that he was not interested in their ideas of supremacy, Kingsley found a target on his back more often than not and quickly rose defensively to meet whatever they would throw at him.

It seemed a natural step to Kingsley to put his magical proficiency to work to protect others. He had always had a strong notion of justice, and as he had grown into himself his morals had grown even firmer. His parents disapproved of his career choice, but Kingsley knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let his abilities go to waste knowing others were suffering. The auror trials were a breeze to a man of his skill, and before he knew it, Kingsley was out on the field.

His desperate need to stop the growing darkness in the world only grew more urgent with the arrival of his nephew. Kingsley fights for a world where his nephew can grow up safely, without fear for the future.