The Streets Of Hogsmeade Would Always Make Cassandra Feel Warm And Nostalgic, No Matter How Many Years

— unknown

Regulus had hardly expected a response to his owl at all, never mind a positive response. He wouldn't have blamed Andromeda if she'd ignored him; Merlin only knew he'd treated her poorly in the past. His recent experiences had driven him to write a letter, and now he was expecting his estranged cousin at his home. He'd been pacing around his living room nervously for a while, wondering if she would actually show up and then wondering what he would say to her if she did. It'd been a long, long time since he'd been fully honest with someone, and he knew the danger that it put himself in. The feelings of discontentment and unhappiness had been building for a while, maybe even for years, and Regulus had finally been pushed to breaking point. The sound of a knock at the door broke Reg out of his musing, and with shaking hands he opened the front door. "You came...Here, come in out of the cold," he said, gesturing through to his living room. "Can I get you something to drink?" @tonksxandromeda

There was no more important job within the Order of the Phoenix than ensuring that everyone's skills were up to scratch, especially knowing that the Death Eaters would not pull their punches. Kingsley himself had a vicious scar on his ribs demonstrating their lack of conscience, and the Order would crumble if they were sending out people who were unprepared. He'd come straight to headquarters from a warm up run, dressed in a black muscle vest and some grey shorts. "Morning Aurora. Thank you for arriving so promptly," he noted, reaching for his wand. "Today, we'll start small. I want you to try and disarm me however you can. I will act defensively, and I've already cast cushioning charms around the room so feel free to really give me everything you've got. I'm ready when you are."

where: training room of Order hq who: @battle-scvrs

Aurora wasn't sure why she felt nervous. Her duelling skills were fine, but until Kingsley was satisfied with her abilities, she would be kept within the walls whilst everyone else was out making a difference. She pulled her hair up into a pony, dressed in a paire of tights and tank top, her robes in hand when she walked out on the mat to where he was standing.

"Hello Kingsley," a smile on her lips.

Her response was even more confusing than the initial statement, and Regulus continued staring with his jaw agape. He truly couldn't understand Greta's world view. "You are one of the most baffling women I have ever met. If I never had to talk to anyone ever again in public, I would not mind it one bit."

"Of course I do. I love catching up with friends or meeting new people. And sometimes other people are in the shops for the same things you are and can give you advice or their opinion on something. It's incredibly helpful." Greta was a people person through and through, she had no problem walking up to someone and starting a conversation. Not talking to anyone all day would make her feel extremely lonely.

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."

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."

Before James had arrived, Regulus had been occluding heavily to prevent the Order member reading his mind should they possess the ability to do so. As he'd let his wand clatter down to the table, Regulus had let those mental walls drop slightly - still present as ever, but not as heavy as he had been before. There was little in his life that Regulus had to himself - his memories and his thoughts were all he could cling to. "Other developments," he said, offering no further context. "I never stopped caring. That was never the issue, James, and you know it," he said, levelling James with a firm stare. Perhaps he wasn't just talking about Sirius any more, though he'd never admit it if pressed. "I know I can't control what he thinks, but I can control the way that he finds out and the manner it's delivered. It won't take away from what I have done previously either, and I fear that's all he'll look at. Oh, Sirius has been through a lot has he? And that gives him the right to react poorly, but not me the right to want to deliver the news myself? We've all been through a lot, James," Regulus said, immediately getting his back up at James' defence of Sirius. For all Regulus knew, Sirius had left the family home and had an easy ride of it all. "Oh, I think he might. Your precious Order was his thing, and now his little brother's back riding his coat-tails yet again."

The sharp sting of his nails against his skin helped to ground Regulus somewhat, aching to tear the Dark Mark off though he knew it wasn't possible. He abandoned his forearm to grasp the mug of beer, before he smiled though there was no humour behind it. "Pretty hard to undo twenty years worth of thoughts. They're all tangled up in my brain, dark vines weaving around each other. It's just...me," he said with a small frown. "You can't protect me from myself, James," he said gently. "A good son is someone who does his duties well, who marries well and continues the family name. Who explores the Dark Arts and furthers pure-blooded ideology. A good Death Eater is similar - he knows his duties, he focuses on the ideology, he pledges his undying devotion to the Dark Lord and he explores the dark arts and wields them without second thought. It's quite simple, really, if I didn't hate every bit of it." Regulus wasn't lying. He understood all of it - he knew what was expected of him, and up until now he had done it without outward complaint. It was simple in theory, until he started to see the harm he was doing and the reality of what would be to come if the Dark Lord won.

As James asked what more the Order could do, he shrugged his shoulders slightly, shaking his head. "I'm no strategist, or leader. But facing the Order from the other side...half of you don't even appear to be accomplished duelists. Do you have field healers, strategists who can think on their feet if something goes against plan? And how many of your Order members won't touch even a simple curse? You need to get comfortable using curses, even the darker ones...I'm not saying unforgivables because I know you won't cross that line. But if you have 10 Order members who want to stun and disarm and 10 Death Eaters who are willing to kill and maim to get what they want, my money is on the Death Eaters every time. Using only defensive magic is going to gain no ground."

Sighing deeply, Regulus took another long sip of his beer. "Maybe it's not entirely true, but when you're suffocating under relenting pressure, that's how it feels like. I don't know how to live without feeling like I have to perform for people like a fucking court jester," he said. "You can't possibly imagine what it's like having lessons to teach you to be better at curses that torture and control people, and I hope you never do. You're too good for that, Potter. I can see that you don't wanna talk about all my sins, so I'll...we'll leave it there," he said, wondering if this would forever change the way James looked at him.

Leaning back into his chair, Regulus' gaze followed James' movements as he took a long drink. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he tried to make sense of the change in tone. "James, c'mon man. Don't be like that," he said, not daring to put what he thought James' tone meant into words. "I can practically feel you itching to ask the question, though I'm not sure you actually want the answer. It's Caradoc."

If he didn't think it was an outrageous violation of privacy, James might've wished to be a Legilimens in that moment so that he could find out what Regulus was thinking, to know whether it was similar to what was going through his own head. He wondered vaguely whether Regulus could read his mind. Although he wouldn't be too surprised if he could, James sincerely hoped not. He wasn't sure how he'd recover. "Other developments?" James quirked an eyebrow. He bit back a comment about how he didn't know he was still in contact with Andy, because, at the end of the day, there was a lot else James didn't know about Regulus any more; if they opened this Pandora's box, he wouldn't know if they'd ever stop. "Being scared is a good thing, sometimes, I think. Means you still care," he said. He looked at him earnestly. "Honestly, Reg, you're not in control of what he thinks. I get that it's Sirius, and of course, he means a lot… I know more than anyone … but that's not your burden to bear. It won't take away from what you've done no matter what his immediate gut reaction to it is. And know that however he reacts is because he cares, too. He's just been through a lot." That was an understatement. He'd defend Sirius until his dying breath, over anyone. But James realised what that sounded like, and quickly added, "Not that I think he's going to react badly."

Not missing the way Regulus' hand went to his forearm, James almost squirmed, but masked this visceral reaction of disgust by summoning two mugs of Wizard's brew from the bar downstairs. He levitated one of them to set itself down in front of Regulus, before taking a long, deep sip of his own. "How do we get you to stop being so harsh on yourself?" Rich, coming from James, but his concern was reserved only for others. No time for self-examination. "As your officially appointed protector, I think that's my first order of business, because, Merlin, you're eating yourself alive. You're just doing your best, Regulus. There's no handbook for these types of things. What's a good son anyway, in a family like yours? What's a good death eater?" He sat up straighter in his seat, intrigued. "What d'you mean? What else do you think we can we do?" As one of the youngest members, James didn't have much say in the way the Order was run, or anything at all, really. It was mostly just following instructions. At this point, he was starting to wonder himself how to make a real difference, because it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere. James nodded. "And not just him. Everything he stands for, too."

A deep crease settled between his eyebrows. "C'mon, you know that's not true," he frowned, lips in a tight line. The first time I crucioed someone. The syllables reverberated in his head, again and again until the words didn't sound real any more. The first time –. Suddenly, James was overcome by the overwhelming desire to run away so he wouldn't find out what else Regulus had done. He hoped he wouldn't tell him. He couldn't stomach it. He felt stupid for being so stunned. What did he think death eaters did? Go out and frolic in fields of daisies? "I don't even know what that would've felt like. Can’t even begin to imagine it. I’m sorry.” He wanted to stop talking about this, but would go on for as long as Regulus needed. "Well, for the record, you do have family that would be proud of you. Andy, Ted, Sirius. Hey, probably Uncle Alphard, too, although I can't speak for him."

There it was. James took a swig of the drink in front of him. He ought to have expected it, really. The Black family curse. It always did happen after they met someone. "Oh, yeah? That sounds really ... great." Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did he sound so disingenuous? Was he being crazy? James willed himself to look up at Regulus, mentally going through every muggleborn man in the Order. "Honestly, that's really great. I'm so happy for you. It's ... a big thing to realise."

The longer he sat there, the heavier the weight of Lucius' judgment seemed to be. They were family now, and Regulus' family seemed to be dwindling every time he blinked. He ached for more - not that he thought he would find that in Lucius Malfoy. It was the pureblooded way to be like this with family, and Regulus was tired of constantly second-guessing himself around those who were meant to care. He was alone in the world, more alone than ever, and he was trying to cling to any sort of familial relationship he had - including that with his new, judgy cousin-in-law. "Hmm, maybe....but this is tastier. I've got Black family genes, I'm all skin and bones, I don't need to worry about eating several pies," he shrugged, pushing his plate away. Lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, Reg looked at Lucius and asked "how are you adjusting to having Narcissa's hobbies in your home? She's got a fascinating collection," he commented, curious as to how Lucius was adjusting to that. "Happy wife, happy life...that's what they say, right? Not that I'd know."

Lucius took a moment to let his attention drift from the pie on the table, up to the wizard in front of him. Words hung on the tip of his tongue, ready to judge on the need to eat two pies, though, they faded away, not in the mood to end up in any real banter. He wanted a night to relax from his duties he did earlier before heading home to his wife.

"You do not think substance might be better?" Get a proper meal in to fuel him. "The food here isn't that horrid." He had better at other establishments. "Married life is fine." They had spent a lot of time together, but it was nice knowing that at the end of the night, she did not have to leave, a comfort waking up to her beside him. "That is good to know. I do not like when she is unhappy."

REGULUS BLACK

Regulus didn't want James Potter to burrow his way under his skin again like he had those years ago. It had been too easy back then, and it would be too easy now. Reg wanted to build the walls back between them again - it was more comfortable behind his walls of steel where there was less risk of his heart shattering all over again. Regulus took a step backwards, putting physical distance between them. "I don't wanna talk about it. I don't wanna talk about it, I don't want to talk about Sirius, I don't want to talk about...being your dirty secret," he said, catching the way James' eyes had darted away. "I don't want to talk to you any more at all, actually," he said harshly, feeling the sudden need to get home and hide underneath a blanket.

Frowning deeply at James' question, Reg pulled a face. "Of course I have. What, did you think I'd just...be sitting around pining for you? I made that mistake once. Never again," he sneered, before shoving a vial of jewelweed in James' direction. "I expect your undying thanks," he said, not saying a goodbye before he turned to head towards the counter.

Despite the years of distance between them, it was like Regulus was right there, inside his mind. James supposed it was like picking up an old favourite book. You may forget individual words, but the sentiment felt familiar. How James thought wasn't that different, between then and now. "I'm not... lumping you in with him," James said, eyebrows slightly furrowing in confusion. "Sorry if it came across like that. You're a long way from being just his brother, but you don't need me to tell you that." He nodded. "I know. We don't... need to talk about this." His words were careful, slow, quiet. Almost reflexively, his eyes left Regulus' at length, to look around, just for a moment. Making sure nobody was listening in out of habit. Suddenly, he was seventeen again. He felt horrible about it immediately.

"Moved on?" Again, it was too late, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He shook his head. How had he wound up in this situation? Perhaps the sleeplessness was getting to him. "Come on, Reg. Please. You made your point." It was for a potion for his father, who wasn't feeling very well. "In that case, I'll make sure it's an extra cool one. Doing a backflip or something. Although that's nothing to you, I know." He offered a small smile. "Sure, I have no insight into your life, which is... fair enough, but I do hope you're at least still flying."