Fic: Wartime - Murder Is Easy (Regulus, Regulus/Peter, R)
Title Wartime: Murder Is Easy
Author: quietliban
Rating: R (sex, violence and rock 'n roll dark themes)
Word Count: 2700 words or nearabouts
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe if property of JK Rowling and her associated publishers etc. No copyright infringement intended, no profit being made.
Summary: Regulus learns that some secrets once uncovered can lead to chaos.
Author's Note: Started out as a whim on crack, evolved in to a plot bunny that wouldn't go way and turned out to be mildly serious. And yeah, I wrote slash and implied incest but it's the sort that you blink and you miss. A sentence really. Great, now you'll all be looking for it. Also, parts of this were previous posted as a drabble series and have since been revoked. Oh, and I'm extremely nervous about this because I think I'm insane.
Feeback is a glorious, glorious thing.
Bellatrix walks into the house like she owns it. Regulus stands, straight and tall next to Mother. There are blood stains on the hem of Bellatrix's white dress. Regulus wonders if Mother notices. She doesn't say a word as Bellatrix embraces her and kisses either cheek.
Regulus stiffens as Bellatrix's lips brush over his cheek. "Cousin," she greets with a smile and a cold voice. Regulus smiles as expected in return.
Rodolphus carries their bags and drops them by the doorway. He stares vacantly through Regulus, before his eyes land on Bellatrix.
Regulus shivers.
-
The photographs are Muggle, and Regulus finds their stillness unsettling. The ocean water doesn't move. It is still and stagnant; not at all what the seaside should be. There are children in the photographs, boys and girls in patched ill-fitting clothing.
The writing on the back is elegant and spidery. Edith Smith, Joyce McCartney, Edward Willis, Tom Riddle, and Mavis Drury, 1936. Regulus stares at it. A good looking boy of about ten stares out from the photograph. The other boy and the girls are all smiling and there is warmth in their eyes, but none in the dark eyes of that boy. His expression is cool, and his mouth twisted and knowing.
Tom Riddle.
-
There's a satisfying thud and the Mudblood's body lands at the foot of the staircase. Regulus stares at it, vacant eyes stare back at him. Macnair laughs. "Stupid Mudblood, didn't even try to fight."
Regulus feels something turn in his stomach and there is a cry from behind him. "Daddy!"
The child runs to its dead father. Regulus doesn't hesitate, his wand is out and he speaks the words. Avada Kedavra.
The Cruciatus curse surprises him when he feels its agony through his body. "Idiot," Macnair growls from somewhere above him. Regulus sees stars and there is screaming. It is only after the curse stops that Regulus realises it came from him.
"We could've had some fun with the little chit," Macnair tells him and a chill goes through Regulus. He struggles to stand. The room spins and he grimaces.
Macnair stares at him. The silence stretches between them before Regulus remembers the Mark.
"Mosmorde." Regulus casts and the green skull looms above him and through the walls of the house.
It is then, that Macnair Apparates away, leaving Regulus to himself.
-
The book is heavy, and Regulus stares at it with apprehension. His basic Latin is rusty and this book is written in nothing else. He vaguely wonders if he could cast a translation charm but they've been known to back-fire. He sighs and stares at it.
Etherealis.
The title gleams in the light of his lantern. He opens the cover and the book creaks.
-
Bellatrix watches him. Her eyes follow him as walks across the living room and they monitor him as he settles into the arm chair with The Daily Prophet in his hands.
"I don't know why you bother reading that," she comments. Regulus looks up and stares at her. She smiles. White teeth against red lips.
"It's normal," Regulus replies opening the paper. He sees that the obituaries take up two pages now.
Bellatrix laughs. Her laughter is mocking, high pitched and cruel. "It's common," she says.
Regulus stares at her. He doesn't know why Mother lets her stay.
-
It is dark down in the cellar. Regulus' lantern glows and flickers, driving shadows back but the wrong feeling in Regulus' gut stays. It is dread, and something else; he feels like insects are crawling all over his skin. Regulus stops.
There's a noise.
The sound of a foot scuffed against floorboards. No. That can't be it. That can't be. Regulus holds still. He is not afraid; he cannot be afraid.
His fingers curl around the lantern handle and his nails dig into his palm. He breathes in.
It was nothing.
-
The Muggle woman looks up at him. Her blue eyes are wide and scared.
"My baby! Please, no! I'm pregnant, don't kill my baby."
Regulus stares back at her hidden behind his smooth white mask. The woman's husband is dead. His head bashed in against a wall. Blood trickles from his temples, and it stains the fawn carpet red. Regulus finds it hard to believe that the dead man was once a wizard.
"Please?" she whispers.
Murder is easy when it becomes habit, and Regulus watches as she chokes, clawing at her neck, trying to tear away invisible hands.
Snape doesn't laugh the way Macnair does. Snape looks at the woman before staring at Regulus. "Enough," he says. Regulus almost drops his wand.
"Avada kedavra." Snape casts and the green light fills the room. The woman falls dead, her blue eyes now blank. "I said: enough."
Regulus lowers his wand and wonders at Snape's mercy killing. It is the only term he can find that fits.
-
The family tapestry spreads across the wall and it reminds Regulus of creeping ivy, but instead of crawling upwards, it grows down.
He traces his fingers across the cloth. It is rough and heavy where Sirius' name used to be. Regulus tries to ignore the sadness that pools in his belly. Sirius was his brother, but he was nothing a Black was meant to be. He was foolhardy and reckless. Even as a child, Sirius would test their mother's patience and be on the receiving end of Father's belt more often than not.
He sighs and drags his fingers up, tracing over the golden thread. Phineas Nigellus Black. Regulus pauses. A lord, but in name only and not in act. He goes up further as far as he can reach but the family tree extends further.
He cannot see the evidence that he wants to find.
There is no Riddle in the most ancient and noble house of Black.
-
Peter Pettigrew stands before the Dark Lord. His face is bare. Regulus watches through his mask. He tries not to shudder as Peter screams when the Mark is laid into his skin. Bellatrix grabs his hand and holds it tight. Her eyes are bright and her nails dig into his skin. A hot wet trickle falls across the back of his hand. Blood.
The Dark Lord laughs. He pushes Peter away from him with his foot. "Welcome, Wormtail."
-
His notes have been moved. Sheets of paper shifted and photographs out of order.
Regulus stares at them. Dread and horror rolling together in his stomach. Someone has found out.
Someone knows.
The fire doesn't bother him as it flares in the spilled oil and the sound of shattered glass does not draw him out of his shock.
Someone knows.
The parchment on the floor by the desk starts to curl and burn, and it is only then the Regulus reacts.
Extinguisho. The flames go out.
-
"Regulus!"
He turns and sees Peter. His eyes nervous, and arms shaking. Regulus shakes his head and dismisses him.
"Wait," Peter shouts and Regulus shakes his head. No, he will not take pity on this rat.
A hand closes in on Regulus' arm and he shakes it off. "Leave me alone," Regulus growls, pushing the hand away.
"Please?" Peter asks. Pity stirs in Regulus and he tries to shake it off. He cannot afford this. Peter has no favourable connections and is a poor excuse for a Death Eater, or anything else for that matter.
"I--" he starts to deny him, but then Regulus meets Peter's eyes. "Fine," he says.
-
"It was my mother's mother's," Regulus explains, but Borgin looks bored and rolls his eyes.
"I can't help you," Borgin answers having already dismissed him. "Besides, what would a Black heirloom being doing in my shop, eh? Don't think I don't know who you are, boy."
Regulus draws himself up. "It's not an heirloom, just a trinket. A silver locket." His eyes roam across the cabinets in Borgin and Burke's but there is nothing that resembles what he is searching for.
Borgin huffs and turns away from him. Regulus stares after him, mumbling expletives under his breath.
-
The scent of blood is heavy in the air, the terror almost tangible. Peter looks exhilarated and Regulus feels bored. The Mudblood is dead. Another lifeless face to add to Regulus' memories.
He points his wand into the air ready to cast the Dark Mark into the sky, when a hand falls on his wrist, gentle and calm.
"Wait," Peter whispers. He is close to Regulus and his cheeks are rosy. Regulus looks down at him and allows Peter to lower his arm. Peter's fingers sneak under his sleeve, and trace up his arm. Regulus closes his eyes. Peter's touch is gentle and warm. It is not harsh and threatening like Bellatrix, or nervous like Greta Catchlove was in school. Regulus feels Peter's breath on his face and he knows what is going to come next. He knows that he should stop it, because it is perverted and wrong.
Peter kisses him. His lips are dry.
Regulus kisses back.
-
This is the second time and Regulus manages to hold on to the lantern. The papers on his desk are undisturbed but the books by his chair are not. They are open when he left them closed and pages have been torn out.
Regulus' mind flicks to Bellatrix, but subtly is not her way. She would have confronted him and brought him before their Lord.
Regulus shivers. He does not want to be found out. Could it be Rodolphus? The hollowed eyed man his cousin married is certainly a possibility, but Regulus doubts it. There is something off about Rodolphus and the way he does Bellatrix's bidding so easily.
He puts the lantern down and stares at the books. He closes one cover with his toe and the heavy tome snaps shut. The title gleams.
Etherealis.
-
Bellatrix drags him up against the wall by his wrist and Regulus winces.
"Why did you let him go?" she asks, her eyes are bright and her voice is forceful.
Regulus swallows. Was it the pleading look and the apology hidden in Sirius' eyes? Regulus doesn't know. It was an accident, his coming across them. Three friends in a pub, a quick word between brothers in an alley.
"He's my brother," Regulus replies.
Bellatrix's grip increases. "He's a blood traitor and a disgrace to this family." Her nails are digging into Regulus's wrist and they draw blood. Sticky, heavy and dark. She throws his arm away, and glares at him hotly. "The Dark Lord will hear of this, cousin. Count on it."
Regulus watches her as she stalks away. Her robes flowing behind her. He wonders what would happen if he told her what he suspects about the Dark Lord, and if she believed him.
He laughs to himself, telling himself to get a grip.
-
The silhouette is tall, thin and gangly. It is a boy, Regulus decides, standing at his hidden desk.
He casts an Impedimenta non-verbally and the boy squeaks. Regulus smiles.
"I've found you at last," he says. The boy is tall with brown hair and a body that doesn't quite fit together yet. There is something endearing about him, and the stunned look on his face.
Regulus doesn't know him.
"Regulus Black," the boy whispers. A shiver goes down Regulus' spine to hear his name spoken that way. Spoken as something notorious, as something revered.
"Who are you?" Regulus asks, increasing the pressure of the charm, interweaving a binding spell.
"Neville," the boy answers. "Neville Longbottom."
Regulus knows the family. Proud, stuffy and morally righteous. This boy has the Longbottom look about him, but Regulus has never heard of a Neville. There is only a Frank, an Auror. Regulus increases the binding spell, the boy starts to cough.
"Who are you?" Regulus asks again.
"Neville Longbottom." The coughing turns into wheezing and Regulus doesn't slow the building pressure.
"I know," the boy tells him between short breaths. "I know about the Dark Lord."
Regulus pauses with the binding spell and stares.
"Tom Riddle," the boy utters before passing out.
-
Peter traces circles just above Regulus' hips before licking a wet stripe along the length of Regulus' cock. Regulus shudders, and pricks of desire spread throughout his body.
He doesn't know why he agreed to this, or why Peter keeps approaching him since that night. He suspects that it has something to do with Sirius and Black family connections and that it all seriously fucked up but Regulus doesn't care. He can't bring himself to care when his dick is half-way down Peter's throat.
It is not long before Regulus comes, and he's drawing Peter up and tasting himself on Peter's lips. There are hands everywhere and Peter's erection pushes against his stomach.
It is not long before Regulus is down on his knees, his head at Peter's groin with Peter's cock in his mouth.
-
The boy doesn't say anything when he wakes. He stares at Regulus with bored eyes.
Regulus looks at him. The boy is long limbed and he looks confident. Regulus slaps him. The boy looks shocked but then shrugs.
He should probably kill him, but Regulus doesn't want to. The boy knows about Tom Riddle. The boy knows who and what Tom Riddle is. The boy might be able to help him.
"What did he promise you?" the boy asks.
Regulus slaps him again. This time the boy spits blood and glares at him murderously.
-
"Stay away from him," Sirius growls. His face is inches from his and Regulus can only stare. "I know why you came here tonight, Regulus. Stay away from him. It's disgusting."
Regulus is shocked. How did Sirius know? Did Peter tell him? Does he know what Peter is?
"What disturbs you more, Sirius, what we do or that he's only using me as a replacement because he can't have you?" The question is calmer than Regulus feels and he didn't even know he was asking it. Sirius' expression changes and he pushes Regulus away.
"That you would let him," Sirius says and walks away.
-
Regulus kicks the boy, anger at his brother fuelling him. He kicks the boy and tries not remember the way Peter would touch him. Regulus kicks the boy and he wishes he was kicking Bellatrix instead. He wishes it was the Dark Lord, cowering a bruised and bloodied heap on the floor.
Regulus kicks the boy, and the boy groans. "Please, stop," the boy begs. "I can help you." Regulus kicks him again and the boy is crying now. Regulus can see the tears glimmer in the shadows. The boy is crying in the dark. Regulus stops.
"I--" Regulus shakes his head. "I-- I'm sorry." He stares at the boy and the boy's face changes. The features become less awkward and more refined. Sharp cheekbones and delicate skin. The boy becomes him and Regulus turns and runs.
-
Bellatrix looks at him strangely over breakfast. There are bloodstains on the hem of her skirt again, and she looks bright eyed with wonder.
"Is there a ghoul in the cellar?" she asks Regulus while pouring her tea.
Regulus blinks at her, tired and exhausted. Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Mother are watching him expectantly. "I've not seen it," he replies hoping his cheeks aren't colouring. "Why do you ask?"
"There was this dreadful banging coming from down there last night," Bellatrix answers. "Aunt Walburga and I had half a mind to go down there and find out."
Regulus shakes his head. "Well, there's nothing down there," he replies and Bellatrix puts down the teapot.
-
The boy flinches when Regulus leans over him with his wand out. "Shhh," Regulus murmurs, guilt washing over him. He holds his wand out and mutters the healing charms. The boy stares at him with wonder.
"You've got to go," Regulus tells him and releases the binding charm. The boy smells putrid and he reaches out with a hand to grab Regulus' wrist.
"No," the boy says.
"I'll kill you."
The boy laughs. "You haven't yet."
"You'll help?" Regulus asks.
The boy nods. "That's what they sent me here for."
-
Prequel: Players Upon a Stage
Author: quietliban
Rating: R (sex, violence and rock 'n roll dark themes)
Word Count: 2700 words or nearabouts
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe if property of JK Rowling and her associated publishers etc. No copyright infringement intended, no profit being made.
Summary: Regulus learns that some secrets once uncovered can lead to chaos.
Author's Note: Started out as a whim on crack, evolved in to a plot bunny that wouldn't go way and turned out to be mildly serious. And yeah, I wrote slash and implied incest but it's the sort that you blink and you miss. A sentence really. Great, now you'll all be looking for it. Also, parts of this were previous posted as a drabble series and have since been revoked. Oh, and I'm extremely nervous about this because I think I'm insane.
Feeback is a glorious, glorious thing.
Bellatrix walks into the house like she owns it. Regulus stands, straight and tall next to Mother. There are blood stains on the hem of Bellatrix's white dress. Regulus wonders if Mother notices. She doesn't say a word as Bellatrix embraces her and kisses either cheek.
Regulus stiffens as Bellatrix's lips brush over his cheek. "Cousin," she greets with a smile and a cold voice. Regulus smiles as expected in return.
Rodolphus carries their bags and drops them by the doorway. He stares vacantly through Regulus, before his eyes land on Bellatrix.
Regulus shivers.
-
The photographs are Muggle, and Regulus finds their stillness unsettling. The ocean water doesn't move. It is still and stagnant; not at all what the seaside should be. There are children in the photographs, boys and girls in patched ill-fitting clothing.
The writing on the back is elegant and spidery. Edith Smith, Joyce McCartney, Edward Willis, Tom Riddle, and Mavis Drury, 1936. Regulus stares at it. A good looking boy of about ten stares out from the photograph. The other boy and the girls are all smiling and there is warmth in their eyes, but none in the dark eyes of that boy. His expression is cool, and his mouth twisted and knowing.
Tom Riddle.
-
There's a satisfying thud and the Mudblood's body lands at the foot of the staircase. Regulus stares at it, vacant eyes stare back at him. Macnair laughs. "Stupid Mudblood, didn't even try to fight."
Regulus feels something turn in his stomach and there is a cry from behind him. "Daddy!"
The child runs to its dead father. Regulus doesn't hesitate, his wand is out and he speaks the words. Avada Kedavra.
The Cruciatus curse surprises him when he feels its agony through his body. "Idiot," Macnair growls from somewhere above him. Regulus sees stars and there is screaming. It is only after the curse stops that Regulus realises it came from him.
"We could've had some fun with the little chit," Macnair tells him and a chill goes through Regulus. He struggles to stand. The room spins and he grimaces.
Macnair stares at him. The silence stretches between them before Regulus remembers the Mark.
"Mosmorde." Regulus casts and the green skull looms above him and through the walls of the house.
It is then, that Macnair Apparates away, leaving Regulus to himself.
-
The book is heavy, and Regulus stares at it with apprehension. His basic Latin is rusty and this book is written in nothing else. He vaguely wonders if he could cast a translation charm but they've been known to back-fire. He sighs and stares at it.
Etherealis.
The title gleams in the light of his lantern. He opens the cover and the book creaks.
-
Bellatrix watches him. Her eyes follow him as walks across the living room and they monitor him as he settles into the arm chair with The Daily Prophet in his hands.
"I don't know why you bother reading that," she comments. Regulus looks up and stares at her. She smiles. White teeth against red lips.
"It's normal," Regulus replies opening the paper. He sees that the obituaries take up two pages now.
Bellatrix laughs. Her laughter is mocking, high pitched and cruel. "It's common," she says.
Regulus stares at her. He doesn't know why Mother lets her stay.
-
It is dark down in the cellar. Regulus' lantern glows and flickers, driving shadows back but the wrong feeling in Regulus' gut stays. It is dread, and something else; he feels like insects are crawling all over his skin. Regulus stops.
There's a noise.
The sound of a foot scuffed against floorboards. No. That can't be it. That can't be. Regulus holds still. He is not afraid; he cannot be afraid.
His fingers curl around the lantern handle and his nails dig into his palm. He breathes in.
It was nothing.
-
The Muggle woman looks up at him. Her blue eyes are wide and scared.
"My baby! Please, no! I'm pregnant, don't kill my baby."
Regulus stares back at her hidden behind his smooth white mask. The woman's husband is dead. His head bashed in against a wall. Blood trickles from his temples, and it stains the fawn carpet red. Regulus finds it hard to believe that the dead man was once a wizard.
"Please?" she whispers.
Murder is easy when it becomes habit, and Regulus watches as she chokes, clawing at her neck, trying to tear away invisible hands.
Snape doesn't laugh the way Macnair does. Snape looks at the woman before staring at Regulus. "Enough," he says. Regulus almost drops his wand.
"Avada kedavra." Snape casts and the green light fills the room. The woman falls dead, her blue eyes now blank. "I said: enough."
Regulus lowers his wand and wonders at Snape's mercy killing. It is the only term he can find that fits.
-
The family tapestry spreads across the wall and it reminds Regulus of creeping ivy, but instead of crawling upwards, it grows down.
He traces his fingers across the cloth. It is rough and heavy where Sirius' name used to be. Regulus tries to ignore the sadness that pools in his belly. Sirius was his brother, but he was nothing a Black was meant to be. He was foolhardy and reckless. Even as a child, Sirius would test their mother's patience and be on the receiving end of Father's belt more often than not.
He sighs and drags his fingers up, tracing over the golden thread. Phineas Nigellus Black. Regulus pauses. A lord, but in name only and not in act. He goes up further as far as he can reach but the family tree extends further.
He cannot see the evidence that he wants to find.
There is no Riddle in the most ancient and noble house of Black.
-
Peter Pettigrew stands before the Dark Lord. His face is bare. Regulus watches through his mask. He tries not to shudder as Peter screams when the Mark is laid into his skin. Bellatrix grabs his hand and holds it tight. Her eyes are bright and her nails dig into his skin. A hot wet trickle falls across the back of his hand. Blood.
The Dark Lord laughs. He pushes Peter away from him with his foot. "Welcome, Wormtail."
-
His notes have been moved. Sheets of paper shifted and photographs out of order.
Regulus stares at them. Dread and horror rolling together in his stomach. Someone has found out.
Someone knows.
The fire doesn't bother him as it flares in the spilled oil and the sound of shattered glass does not draw him out of his shock.
Someone knows.
The parchment on the floor by the desk starts to curl and burn, and it is only then the Regulus reacts.
Extinguisho. The flames go out.
-
"Regulus!"
He turns and sees Peter. His eyes nervous, and arms shaking. Regulus shakes his head and dismisses him.
"Wait," Peter shouts and Regulus shakes his head. No, he will not take pity on this rat.
A hand closes in on Regulus' arm and he shakes it off. "Leave me alone," Regulus growls, pushing the hand away.
"Please?" Peter asks. Pity stirs in Regulus and he tries to shake it off. He cannot afford this. Peter has no favourable connections and is a poor excuse for a Death Eater, or anything else for that matter.
"I--" he starts to deny him, but then Regulus meets Peter's eyes. "Fine," he says.
-
"It was my mother's mother's," Regulus explains, but Borgin looks bored and rolls his eyes.
"I can't help you," Borgin answers having already dismissed him. "Besides, what would a Black heirloom being doing in my shop, eh? Don't think I don't know who you are, boy."
Regulus draws himself up. "It's not an heirloom, just a trinket. A silver locket." His eyes roam across the cabinets in Borgin and Burke's but there is nothing that resembles what he is searching for.
Borgin huffs and turns away from him. Regulus stares after him, mumbling expletives under his breath.
-
The scent of blood is heavy in the air, the terror almost tangible. Peter looks exhilarated and Regulus feels bored. The Mudblood is dead. Another lifeless face to add to Regulus' memories.
He points his wand into the air ready to cast the Dark Mark into the sky, when a hand falls on his wrist, gentle and calm.
"Wait," Peter whispers. He is close to Regulus and his cheeks are rosy. Regulus looks down at him and allows Peter to lower his arm. Peter's fingers sneak under his sleeve, and trace up his arm. Regulus closes his eyes. Peter's touch is gentle and warm. It is not harsh and threatening like Bellatrix, or nervous like Greta Catchlove was in school. Regulus feels Peter's breath on his face and he knows what is going to come next. He knows that he should stop it, because it is perverted and wrong.
Peter kisses him. His lips are dry.
Regulus kisses back.
-
This is the second time and Regulus manages to hold on to the lantern. The papers on his desk are undisturbed but the books by his chair are not. They are open when he left them closed and pages have been torn out.
Regulus' mind flicks to Bellatrix, but subtly is not her way. She would have confronted him and brought him before their Lord.
Regulus shivers. He does not want to be found out. Could it be Rodolphus? The hollowed eyed man his cousin married is certainly a possibility, but Regulus doubts it. There is something off about Rodolphus and the way he does Bellatrix's bidding so easily.
He puts the lantern down and stares at the books. He closes one cover with his toe and the heavy tome snaps shut. The title gleams.
Etherealis.
-
Bellatrix drags him up against the wall by his wrist and Regulus winces.
"Why did you let him go?" she asks, her eyes are bright and her voice is forceful.
Regulus swallows. Was it the pleading look and the apology hidden in Sirius' eyes? Regulus doesn't know. It was an accident, his coming across them. Three friends in a pub, a quick word between brothers in an alley.
"He's my brother," Regulus replies.
Bellatrix's grip increases. "He's a blood traitor and a disgrace to this family." Her nails are digging into Regulus's wrist and they draw blood. Sticky, heavy and dark. She throws his arm away, and glares at him hotly. "The Dark Lord will hear of this, cousin. Count on it."
Regulus watches her as she stalks away. Her robes flowing behind her. He wonders what would happen if he told her what he suspects about the Dark Lord, and if she believed him.
He laughs to himself, telling himself to get a grip.
-
The silhouette is tall, thin and gangly. It is a boy, Regulus decides, standing at his hidden desk.
He casts an Impedimenta non-verbally and the boy squeaks. Regulus smiles.
"I've found you at last," he says. The boy is tall with brown hair and a body that doesn't quite fit together yet. There is something endearing about him, and the stunned look on his face.
Regulus doesn't know him.
"Regulus Black," the boy whispers. A shiver goes down Regulus' spine to hear his name spoken that way. Spoken as something notorious, as something revered.
"Who are you?" Regulus asks, increasing the pressure of the charm, interweaving a binding spell.
"Neville," the boy answers. "Neville Longbottom."
Regulus knows the family. Proud, stuffy and morally righteous. This boy has the Longbottom look about him, but Regulus has never heard of a Neville. There is only a Frank, an Auror. Regulus increases the binding spell, the boy starts to cough.
"Who are you?" Regulus asks again.
"Neville Longbottom." The coughing turns into wheezing and Regulus doesn't slow the building pressure.
"I know," the boy tells him between short breaths. "I know about the Dark Lord."
Regulus pauses with the binding spell and stares.
"Tom Riddle," the boy utters before passing out.
-
Peter traces circles just above Regulus' hips before licking a wet stripe along the length of Regulus' cock. Regulus shudders, and pricks of desire spread throughout his body.
He doesn't know why he agreed to this, or why Peter keeps approaching him since that night. He suspects that it has something to do with Sirius and Black family connections and that it all seriously fucked up but Regulus doesn't care. He can't bring himself to care when his dick is half-way down Peter's throat.
It is not long before Regulus comes, and he's drawing Peter up and tasting himself on Peter's lips. There are hands everywhere and Peter's erection pushes against his stomach.
It is not long before Regulus is down on his knees, his head at Peter's groin with Peter's cock in his mouth.
-
The boy doesn't say anything when he wakes. He stares at Regulus with bored eyes.
Regulus looks at him. The boy is long limbed and he looks confident. Regulus slaps him. The boy looks shocked but then shrugs.
He should probably kill him, but Regulus doesn't want to. The boy knows about Tom Riddle. The boy knows who and what Tom Riddle is. The boy might be able to help him.
"What did he promise you?" the boy asks.
Regulus slaps him again. This time the boy spits blood and glares at him murderously.
-
"Stay away from him," Sirius growls. His face is inches from his and Regulus can only stare. "I know why you came here tonight, Regulus. Stay away from him. It's disgusting."
Regulus is shocked. How did Sirius know? Did Peter tell him? Does he know what Peter is?
"What disturbs you more, Sirius, what we do or that he's only using me as a replacement because he can't have you?" The question is calmer than Regulus feels and he didn't even know he was asking it. Sirius' expression changes and he pushes Regulus away.
"That you would let him," Sirius says and walks away.
-
Regulus kicks the boy, anger at his brother fuelling him. He kicks the boy and tries not remember the way Peter would touch him. Regulus kicks the boy and he wishes he was kicking Bellatrix instead. He wishes it was the Dark Lord, cowering a bruised and bloodied heap on the floor.
Regulus kicks the boy, and the boy groans. "Please, stop," the boy begs. "I can help you." Regulus kicks him again and the boy is crying now. Regulus can see the tears glimmer in the shadows. The boy is crying in the dark. Regulus stops.
"I--" Regulus shakes his head. "I-- I'm sorry." He stares at the boy and the boy's face changes. The features become less awkward and more refined. Sharp cheekbones and delicate skin. The boy becomes him and Regulus turns and runs.
-
Bellatrix looks at him strangely over breakfast. There are bloodstains on the hem of her skirt again, and she looks bright eyed with wonder.
"Is there a ghoul in the cellar?" she asks Regulus while pouring her tea.
Regulus blinks at her, tired and exhausted. Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Mother are watching him expectantly. "I've not seen it," he replies hoping his cheeks aren't colouring. "Why do you ask?"
"There was this dreadful banging coming from down there last night," Bellatrix answers. "Aunt Walburga and I had half a mind to go down there and find out."
Regulus shakes his head. "Well, there's nothing down there," he replies and Bellatrix puts down the teapot.
-
The boy flinches when Regulus leans over him with his wand out. "Shhh," Regulus murmurs, guilt washing over him. He holds his wand out and mutters the healing charms. The boy stares at him with wonder.
"You've got to go," Regulus tells him and releases the binding charm. The boy smells putrid and he reaches out with a hand to grab Regulus' wrist.
"No," the boy says.
"I'll kill you."
The boy laughs. "You haven't yet."
"You'll help?" Regulus asks.
The boy nods. "That's what they sent me here for."
-
Prequel: Players Upon a Stage