This Was Hell. It Had To Be. Some Sort Of Sick, Karmic Punishment For All The Harm Regulus Had Done.

The longer this woman kept him stood here, throwing accusations around in his place of employment, the angrier Fenrir was getting. His fury was simmering under his skin, his wolf aching to get at the woman in front of him. Part of Fenrir knew that if he did anything to this woman then it would ruin any chance of Remus ever joining a werewolf pack, but the other part of him wanted to see if Remus would see the difference that it made when one had another werewolf alongside at the full moon. "I'll do what I want. Keep your warnings to yourself, you don't scare me girl," he sneered at her, before turning and walking back into the kitchen.

Aurora knew, in the pit of her stomach, that this wasn't the smartest idea, but the love she had for Remus, was stronger than standing in the back. She would fiercely protective of those she loved. Though, she could agree, Remus needed to accept who he was fully to gain better control, but that wasn't something she would admit to it. There had to be other werewolves that could help. "You act like you'd have the opportunity to even do so." She snorts. "I'm sorry, you mean where you prey on innocent children that can't fight back. How manly of you." She sneers, eyes narrowing at him. "I might be too old for your liking." The witch took a step back. "Stay away from him." She warns.

Whether the Wyvern was a dive bar or not, Fenrir took pride in his work. He wouldn't serve standard pub grub just because that was what was expected, like the shit that they served at the Leaky. He worked hard at the small menu they offered, and all of the kitchen staff knew how to make each dish. Being called out of the kitchen his natural assumption was that it was to be a question about the food, so when the blonde woman started talking about how to reach him, Fenrir straightened his spine and mentally prepared for whatever was coming next. "I don't mind. It's my job after all, to be available for questions. Thanks," he accepted the praise, tone full of curiosity as to whatever was happening here.

Fenrir reached for the proffered clothing, eyeing it with an analytical gaze. "Protection you say? What sort of protection does it offer?" he asked, his gaze darting to the tables either side to ensure they weren't being watched. "I assume you know my name, Leta, otherwise you wouldn't be here," he said, loathe to introduce himself unless absolutely necessary. He shook her hand firmly, before he turned his attention back to the clothing. "Do I owe you for this?"

Whether it would seem silly to the one in question or not, Leta felt a visit was long overdue. The White Wyvern was a place the witch could be found only rarely, when occasion would strike. It was convenient such a moment had come; the blonde had found her way there. In fact, for the first time she’d even tried the food there. Somehow the establishment had always given the impression of being a simple place, more for the drinking type than those wishing to dine. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you out here, but I’m not entirely sure how to reach you.” Of course, Leta could have sent an owl. That seemed too harsh, impersonal. “First of all, since it seems rude otherwise. The food was nice.”

Slender hands reached to take a quick sip of the wine in front of her. “That aside, I came to give you this. Whether you wish to use it is entirely up to you.” It was simple clothing. Not the usual cloaks she’d have handed other death eaters. Given that she wasn’t all that familiar with the one in front of her, it seemed like the most basic of things. “I have made these for all that have joined. Simple protection against the unwanted.” The former Slytherin could only hope it would make sense to the one in front of her. “Oh, Leta Rosier. I work at Madam Malkin’s. If I feel like it.” Wasn’t that the truth. Dedicated, yet growing more and more accustomed to just working in her own workshop. The blonde offered her hand. Least she could do. - @battle-scvrs

Aaron Taylor-Johnson as James Frey ⤷ A Million Little Pieces | dir. Sam Taylor-Johnson

For the second time in a week, Regulus found himself in the aurors office. An urgent summons had awaited him at his desk in the Department of Mysteries, instructing him to disregard whatever work he was currently undertaking and visit the aurors office at once. Whatever it was, Regulus had a sinking feeling that it couldn't be good. Casting his mind back over the last few weeks, he tried to figure out if there was anywhere that he may have slipped up and given away his allegiances but he was coming up blank. Summoning all of his mother's etiquette training, Regulus drew a deep breath and straightened his spine as he knocked on the office door. Waiting for the summons to enter, Regulus kept his expression clear of any fear that had settled in his chest. "Mr Bones, I am a very busy man. What is the reason for the summons?" @edgarebones

If he was honest, Regulus was surprised that Sirius had even agreed to meet. Their last encounter had been tense and trained at best, and downright awful at worst. Much like when he'd reached out to Andromeda, he wouldn't have blamed Sirius if he'd declined and left it at that. The fact that this had had to be arranged via an auror was appalling enough, but their relationship was what it was - there had been damage on both sides, and he wasn't sure there was anything left to repair. But Regulus would never forgive himself if his brother heard from someone else that Regulus had started co-operating with the Order, and regardless of Sirius' response to that, he wanted it to come from his own mouth.

He flicked his wand towards the door as Sirius knocked, and then magically closed it behind him before he quickly ensured the wards he'd set were still in place. He froze his pacing, studying his brother's face silently for a moment. Sirius didn't want to be here. All of his practiced words were suddenly evading him, and Regulus frowned back. "Did Edgar tell you anything about why you're here? Or...are you in the dark?"

Sirius was in a foul humour. He had had a shitty week and a shitty Christmas, making him wish quickly for the new year to come and wash the traces of it away. His bad mood wasn't helped by the meeting that had been in the back of his mind all day. When Edgar had talked to Sirius about meeting up with Regulus, Sirius had as good as laughed in his face. Whatever Regulus had to say Sirius had very little interest in, their relationship having been severed a long time ago. But despite the frown on his face all day, and telling himself it wasn't worth going, Sirius pulled his hood over his head as he left work and rushed through the rain to The Leaky Cauldron.

He kept his hood up as he made his way through the pub, hoping it would make it easier to get through without being noticed. He tugged it down as he reached the appropriate door, running his hand through his hair with a sigh before he knocked on the door. What did he have to lose? He stepped in as the door opened, closing it behind him with a frown on his face. He just nodded at his brother in greeting.

REGULUS BLACK

AARON JOHNSON as Kraven KRAVEN THE HUNTER (2024)

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.

"Yes, my darling, you intrigue me. You're fascinating, and for some reason, I can't seem to get enough of you," he said, tone low and inviting. There were few pure-blooded wizards who were remotely civil with him, never mind the levels of intimacy that he shared with Pandora. There was still a world of difference between them, owing to their difference in species, but she had never shown any signs of disgust at his beast. He was no fool, he knew this would end - she would find a nice, pureblooded husband and he would settle down with a werewolf, and that was that. "A long while you say? My darling, I have a pack to lead, and a son to raise. I am a busy man, with many demands upon my time...but for tonight, you shall come first. I shall follow your lead."

A wicked smirk pulled at his lips at the tenderness of her hand against his chest, and he felt Pandora giving in just as easily as he had predicted. He pressed another light kiss to her jawline, his hands coming to rest against her hips to pull her closer. "I'm not known for being well behaved."

Fenrir didn't move his hands from Pandora's hips as she spoke, silently considering her words. Trusting non-werewolves completely was not something that came easy to Fenrir, it was not something he had needed to do for years. Deciding not to comment on her affirmation that she was the one person he could trust, Fenrir met her kiss before he drew back. "I'll do it. You have to test it, and I am a willing participant. There's nothing in my life that I am ashamed of others knowing," he said nonchalantly, before he reached out and placed his hands on the clock.

"I intrigue you?" That was not one would normally describe her as, intriguing, and that stirred something inside of her. "Here we are." A softness to her tone, unable to hide the growing smile on her face. Pandora found a comfort in his arms that she could slip out of the wizarding world and be her own identity. There was an acceptance of who they were that didn't need to be spoken. She also knew the reality of the situation. There was a challenge swirling in her hues when he continued to close the distance between them. "I think that is wise. I may need you for a long while."

A palm rests on the centre of his chest, goosebumps fleshing her body at the tender kiss placed at the side of her neck. The self-control she held, seemed to wane at his sly tactics, knowing what will come later. "I have faith that you can." A sultry tone to her words, teeth scraping across her lower lip.

The other hand raised, resting her palm along with the other, on his chest. "I know you do, Fen." Pandora could understand why he didn't, he was an outcast by the very society she walked in, but she was different than them. "You can trust me. I'm the one person you can always trust." Sincere amber hues fixating on his, still ready to back off if he declined.

"Yes, that is what is supposed to happen." The witch leans up on her tip toes to draw him down to meet her lips in a kiss. "You don't have to."

It wasn't often that Fenrir bought work home, but there were occasions were the location was just too perfect. He'd shipped Magnus off to a trusted member of the pack because Nancy was busy, but he didn't want his son in the house while Fenrir tortured a man outside. He was free of all responsibility for the evening, they were guaranteed to be undisturbed, and his focus had narrowed solely onto the man in front of him. "Mm...he's lowly enough not to have known anything of note, but still, the Dark Lord cannot have traitors amidst the ranks," Fenrir said, his claws still in the man's cheek as he used the leverage to turn the man's head and look into his eyes. Staring back at him were pools of terror, and another weak 'please' bubbled out of the man's lips. There was no forgiveness here.

Fenrir's smile as he looked down at the man was bright, which should have been a warning sign in and of itself, but the man was clearly an imbecile. "I'm full of grace and of mercy. It's your lucky day! Evelyn and I have other matters to attend to, so if you can run fast enough..." Fenrir trailed off, eyebrows raised expectantly as Evelyn started counting. As the man raced away, Fenrir could still hear his heavy thudding footsteps amidst the foliage. "He won't get far at all. He's barely gone 100 meters," he said, head tilted slightly as he used his heightened senses to focus in on the path that he was taking. "Oh, I'll keep him alive for you, dear. I enjoy working with you too much," he said with a wink, before stowing his wand in his holster. He'd promised no magic, but Fenrir didn't need magic - just his preternatural senses, and his sadism.

"I think we could even give him fifteen seconds, don't you? Just to let him think he's won."

Evelyn had to appreciate the benefits of Fenrir’s home near the woods. Out here no one would be looking for them, no one would hear the man’s screams as they carried out their work. They had all the time in the world to draw this out and have their fun. She stood back, giving Fenrir the opportunity to have his turn even as a pleased laugh slipped from her lips. “Oh I don’t know that he’s much a danger.” Her lips curled in distaste at the thought that he was some threat to their cause. “Certainly a weak link that must be dealt with appropriately.” Her smile grew as she watched him dig his claws into the man’s cheek, delighted at the sight. There had never been any question when it had come to choosing sides in this war. There was something so intoxicating about the power it provided her. The thrill of being able to bring people to their knees like this as they begged for forgiveness. There was nothing like it.

Her lips curled into a delighted smile as he slung his arm around her shoulder, winking at him before she returned her attention to the man curled into himself on the ground. “Oh I suppose.” She agreed. “He does look rather sorry after all.” There was no missing the sarcasm in her voice. She watched him pull the man off the ground, avoiding the urge to clap in delight at the offer Fenrir gave him, knowing exactly how it would end. “Isn’t he just so gracious? We’re giving you a chance, you should consider yourself lucky.” She reminded the man as she stepped towards him, tapping him on the nose with her wand. “One…two…” Realization seemed to dawn on the man as he finally took a stumbling step back and turned, racing into the trees. She watched, a laugh slipping from her lips. “Three…” she called loudly before returning her attention to Fenrir. “It’s almost a shame, he likely won’t get very far before you find him.” The amused smile said it was anything but a shame. “Try not to kill him before I get there? I’d hate to miss out on all the fun.”