The Longer This Woman Kept Him Stood Here, Throwing Accusations Around In His Place Of Employment, The

There was something in the woman's gaze that indicated that the hardness of her expression was personal and yet Fenrir couldn't say he'd ever seen her before. That didn't mean that they'd never crossed paths, of course, but she was entirely unmemorable if that was the case. Shrugging at her sharpness, Fenrir rolled his eyes. "If you don't want anything from me, perhaps you could stop trying to crucio me with your eyes. At least do it properly."

If there was anyone she wished to cause immediate harm to, it was the one standing in front of her, what he did to Remus with no regard, she wanted to bring him to his knees. He had no idea who she was, but she knew plenty about him. And, she didn't like him. "No, I don't want anything from you." She replied more sharply than she would ever dare. Aurora was done waiting for who wanted this parchment, standing up.

Regulus had tried to pick a quiet time to visit Diagon Alley, but it seemed that no time these days was ever truly quiet. Even with the ongoing war, people still didn't seem to shy away from large crowds or bustling busy areas. Drawing his coat tighter around himself, Regulus tried to shrink into himself so as to not draw attention. If his parents were with him, they would chastise him for not holding himself in a manner befitting the Black heir. Slipping quietly into the Apothecary, Regulus didn't take stock of any other customers in the store as he began browsing the various bottles. At the sound of footsteps and someone clearing their throat directly behind him, Regulus straightened his spine and turned slightly. "I'm browsing this shelf at the moment, you'll have to wait."

Georgette's explosive attitude brought a small smirk to his lips. With everything else going on in his life, he'd been itching for bit of a fight with very little real life consequences. When everything else was so life-threateningly serious, fighting over some jewelweed in the apothecary was the exact level of stupid that he needed. "That's funny...my mother once said I was her best boy, but my father was shouting at me that I was a fucking waste of space so I guess you've met them somewhere in the middle," he said, head tilted slightly to the side. "Maybe someone should tell you to be polite. You're quite rude, actually."

A dry laugh tore from his throat and he raised his eyebrows in her direction, more than amused at the idea of his parents being any help in this situation. "Oh, I don't need mummy's help any more. I can fight my own battles," he sneered. His advice had been well intended, though he knew it wouldn't land well. "I shall keep my unsolicited advice to myself next time," he said, elbowing her as she shoved past him. Turning back to the shelf, Reg began shovelling random vials into his basket, as many as he could.

Wait her turn politely? Was he fucking serious? They weren't at Hogwarts. And even if they were she would have no problem telling him where to shove it. “You’re a right pain in the ass, you know that I’m sure. Can’t be the first one to mention it.” She took a beat. “I don’t need anyone telling me to be polite.” It wasn’t in her genes.

Georgette had to fight for survival and no one was going to take that away from her, especially not some squirrely little chump with obvious privilege. "Maybe you should run and tell mum and dad on me for being a bitch."

Her face burned. "I know how to take care of myself. I don't need to go to St. Mungo's. This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last, that I take care of my hands myself. I don't need some little know it all giving me his unsolicited advice. Thanks." She pushed near him to look at the vials not giving two shits about invading his personal space.

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."

Frowning at the woman, Regulus stood straight though his body was still angled in a way that he was blocking the shelf. "What about I'm browsing this shelf currently did you not understand?" he muttered grumpily. "There's no common courtesy these days for the British tradition of queueing and waiting your turn. Go ahead," he said, staring at the man behind Greta who was also eyeing up the shelf that Reg had been browsing. "But make it snappy, I want to take my time choosing the best ingredients."

Greta had had a bit of a cold recently and she decided to slip into the apothecary and get herself some medicine so that she would feel better quicker. As there was someone at the shelf she needed to get to, taking quite a while she cleared her throat, apologetic smile on her face when Regulus turned around. "I just need some cold medicine and then I'll be out of your way."

Reg leant his head gently against the top of Caradoc's, relaxing into the comfort and security he found when his boyfriend was near. "I won't tell you not to be scared. I'm terrified, more so now...and now I have someone other than just me to worry about. Whatever comes, we'll face it together...be it good, or bad," he said, trying to be strong for the both of them despite the anxiety that seemed to be constantly nestled within his soul. "I don't want any regrets either, or any 'what could have beens'. I love you, my dear. I love you and I'm choosing you over anything else."

Reg considered Caradoc's words before sighing. "The likelihood of them not being related to me is slim...all purebloods seem to be related in one way or another, it's just a matter of closeness. Come back here when you're done, we can debrief from it all. I might be able to help you identify some of the people you fight against, then you can pass the information to Edgar. For now, why don't we go upstairs? I'm exhausted, let's head to bed."

Fin.

“Yeah, I hope the tide changes too,” Caradoc murmured, leaning his head against Regulus’s shoulder. “But I’m scared. Even going home makes—makes me scared. Not a ton of people know me, I know that, but muggle-borns are getting captured and killed every day. I-I don’t want to die, Reg. I want to have a life with you. If something . . . If something ever happens to me, I just . . . I don’t want to have any regrets, you know? I don’t think I can fix things up with my parents, but I can have a relationship with you. And that’s what I want.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, trying to keep calm, trying not to think about all the horrors in their world right now. “I have another mission tomorrow—for the Order. Gonna try and get some Death Eater intel. Not exactly sure who we’re going after, but I don’t think it’s anyone related to you,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll get back from late.” And hopefully he wouldn’t need to visit St. Mungos, he thought to himself.

The summons to the auror office was of little concern to Regulus, who would quite happily shift the blame of whatever Black artefact had been found causing trouble onto his father. Regulus was extremely careful when out on missions - removing any and all personal possessions that may identify him if left behind other than his wand. Whatever the aurors believed they had found would be nothing to do with him - in fact, he'd be surprised if this wasn't more of a box-ticking exercise by the aurors to try and prove to the ministry that they were investigating something. Rounding the corner towards the meeting room he had been summoned to, Regulus stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar mess of black hair in front of him. "Sirius. What are you....why are you here?" @siriusbpadfoot

Taking Alecto’s lack of argument as her acceptance of his lie, Regulus turned his attention back to the food. Rather than manually plating the food up, Regulus waved his wand and made the utensils do the work for him. “I know, I’ve come to expect silence from you…and yet, you always show up,” he teased, a small smile on his lips. He levitated the two bowls over to the dining table, before grabbing a bottle of pumpkin juice from the fridge. “Mixed…we’re trying to strengthen my ability to use unforgivable. I can’t hold them particularly long. My other magical skill is up to scratch, I feel. I wanted your opinion actually after dinner, I’ve brought two artefacts home from the ministry. I want to know if they perhaps might be of use for our cause. I can duplicate them if so, send the false ones back to the department with a faked magical signature.”

Alecto studied Regulus, taking a moment to see if he was speaking the truth. There was the worry that he would follow after his brother and she would not allow that to happen. "If you say so." The witch had no interest in debating with the young wizard, or simply using her magic to learn the truth. Silent steps moved around the kitchen effortlessly, the pad of her finger running across the surface of the island counter. The thought of cooking herself was insanity, and she was one that danced on that fine line repeatedly. "When have I ever sent an owl back, hmmm?" Both palms splayed across the counter top on the other side. "How is your mentoring going?"

Taking a deep breath as Edgar said that he too had no idea what came next, Regulus fought against the wave of anxiety that was telling him he’d made a mistake. His need for self-preservation was fighting against the conscience that Edgar had poked and prodded at, and he could almost feel his cousin over his shoulder whispering that if he killed Edgar now, nobody would ever know what they had spoken about and he could go back to how things had always been.

Brushing off that lingering darkness knowing that it would take a lot of work to dismantle his teachings and beliefs, Regulus nodded slowly. “Hiding until the war is over, with no end in sight….” He murmured, clearly unhappy at the prospect. “Mr Bones, I respect your optimism…I fear that you don’t know quite what you’re up against. You are working against hundreds of years of deeply ingrained prejudice, and a well organised, well funded, efficient army of people who believe they are right. I hope that the Dark Lord doesn’t win, merlin knows I hope that more than ever now, but I do not want to leave you with false hope. These people are ruthless, determined, and they will not hesitate to kill. Unless you have people on your side that are willing to get their hands as dirty as the Death Eaters, you may not win. But I suppose we have to try.”

Reg still wasn’t sure how much he trusted Edgar Bones, but he had little other choice. “As small as possible, please. And if possible, can I request that the protection offered is purebloods? Not through prejudice, but it is easier for me to talk off if someone were to spot them hanging around me in the meantime. If it’s not possible, I understand…and I appreciate the offer of protection, whoever it is,” he said, a tinge of gratefulness in his tone. “I will keep you updated. May I leave? The Department of Mysteries will be expecting me to catch up on the time I've missed."

This was new territory for Edgar and the last thing he wanted to do was to make false promises and then watch it all blow up in his face. Regulus didn't deserve that and if he was going to trust him, and vice versa, it was best to be honest from the start.

"I don't know how this arrangement will look. All I can promise is that we will work our best to keep you protect and try to give you some life. It might mean hiding for some time, until this war is over, but after we have won, because we will win, you will have your life to do as you please." Good always prevailed over evil.

He nods his head. "It will be." This was a start and he was eager to put some balance back in the universe. "We will keep it to those that need to know. We will meet tomorrow and I will bring you will be watching over you. They will be in the shadows at all times." He could understand needing more time to say by to his family in his own way. "When you are ready to leave that life fully behind, then we will move to the next step."

Fenrir couldn't stop the look of absolute bafflement on his face as the woman rambled about protective whiskey. "The only thing this whiskey is protecting me from is the Christmas crowds, and it's giving me a cheerful mood," he said, tone laced with sarcasm. At her next question, Fen tilted his head slightly, considering the words. "Whiskey makes me feel good. I don't need to worry about being seen, I seem to attract attention wherever I go without me working for it."

"Huh." The sound came out a soft note, permeated with sincere interest. "Amber's thought to ward off negative energy. Maybe that whiskey's protecting you from something," she said, writing something else down before throwing the quill in the depths of her handbag, folding the napkin up and putting it in her pocket. "Did it make you feel good when I did? Did you feel seen?" A gentle tug pulled the corners of her lips into a small smirk.