Fic: "The Lesser Evil" for sionnain
Title: The Lesser Evil
Author: lazy_neutrino
Recipient's name: sionnain
Rating: PG-13
Character(s): Regulus
Author's Notes: thanks to snorkackcatcher and winding_path for the beta! The quote at the start is T.S. Eliot.
The Lesser Evil
"We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown."
play
There are places he'll remember all his life, but he doesn't think this is one of them. The tide is out, but the sea still slaps insistently against the rock. He isn't sure if he can really hear it, or if it's just in his head. At the very edge of his vision the lake seems to ripple, but the water is level when he turns to look.
He raises his wand and whispers the word he should not know, then takes his treasure like a hero from a story book.
pause
The ground floor is deserted when he returns but he can hear the sound of arguing upstairs. He shrugs. It's no business of his. Keeping one hand thrust deep into his robes, he drops his dirty travelling cloak on the floor and goes to his room.
He locks the bedroom door behind him, even though it won't keep Kreacher out, then sits on the bed and buries his head in his hands. It's a glorious summer evening outside; the high voices of children are carried up to him as they play in the streets. The clouds are steady on a pale blue sky.
He wonders if perhaps a thunderstorm would be more fitting, if there should be turbulence above to reflect the turbulence within. Would I be Gryffindor now, he thinks, if I were Sorted again?…Or did it need that tiny touch of Slytherin?
He wonders what Sirius would say.
rewind
Chandeliers throw light onto a hundred mirrors and the crystal decanters sparkle in the firelight. Narcissa is wearing blue, a deep sea-blue that brings out the grey of her eyes. Beside her Bellatrix is splendid in robes the colour of blood.
The wine is a deep rich red, warm and full. It's better than anything they have at home and he takes a second sip, savouring the tannic aftertaste as it coats the roof of his mouth.
'Regulus,' says a voice behind him and he turns to face Lucius Malfoy.
'Mr. Malfoy.' He extends a hand, but Lucius is looking behind him.
'You came alone?'
'Father sends his regards. You didn't really think my brother would come, did you?' Regulus laughs and Lucius laughs with him, but the grey eyes are frowning and scanning the room.
'Not really,' Lucius replies. 'But I was hoping he would have outgrown these foolish whims by now. His actions bring shame upon your family.'
Regulus nods. 'My mother has disinherited him,' he tells Lucius proudly. 'She blasted his name off the family tapestry.'
Lucius gives him an odd look. 'In that case, you must come to my study later.' He smiles. 'There's someone I want you to meet.'
pause
There are moments that define a life. Regulus knows instinctively that this is one of them. If it were given to us to recognise each moment like this, he thinks, there is nothing we could not be, and Mother - I won't let you down the way Sirius did.
'Regulus.' The voice is high and thin. Long fingers steeple on an ebony desk. 'Come here.'
Eyes are on him as he walks across the study floor. Without thinking, he drops to one knee and bows his head. There is a pleased laugh from across the desk. A mutter of approval behind him.
'Look at me.'
He raises his head and meets Lord Voldemort’s eyes.
It is like looking into the heart of the sun.
pause
His father is a bag of ancient bones, closeted in a darkening study. His brother is a burn mark on a tapestry. There is no-one else.
He will not let his mother down.
fast forward
He meets Sirius once in the Leaky Cauldron, when neither of them expects it. He watches as Sirius' face freezes over and he stands quite still, staring at Regulus.
He raises an eyebrow. 'Hello, Sirius,' he says, as pleasantly as he can. (The pale, brown-haired man walking up behind his brother with the drinks stops dead, then turns right round and walks away again.)
'Regulus.' His brother's hand is on his wand. (A wizard at a nearby table glances up, then nudges his companion. They pick up their glasses and leave.)
'Haven't seen you around lately.' It's a challenge. He sees his brother's eyes narrow. (In the distance the bartender is watching.)
Sirius breathes slowly, in and out through his nostrils. Regulus doesn't think he's breathing at all. He keeps his eyes fixed on Sirius.
Just when Regulus thinks his lungs are about to burst, Sirius speaks. 'I needed a change of air,' he says. He wrinkles his nose. 'I think I need one now. There's a foul smell in here.'
Regulus stiffens. He begins to raise his wand, but there's a hand on his sleeve, restraining him. 'Easy, boy. He's not worth it.' Through a red mist he recognises Evan Rosier.
He allows Rosier to turn him and starts to walk away. Sirius' voice, high and clear in the smoke-filled pub, stops him in his tracks.
'Regulus! Ask your friend Malfoy how our father died.'
play
He crosses to the bureau and twists the family crest to open the secret drawer. He shoves the locket inside and closes the drawer.
I wonder if anyone will ever find it? He turns his back on the bureau and walks to the windows, yanking back the green velvet curtains. Pulling out his wand, he places the tip against his forehead.
There are moments he will remember all his life, but this is not one of them.
'Obliviate,' he whispers as the sun streams in.
fast forward
He has dreamed of being a hero, but there are no more heroes. His rôle has turned out to be a walk-on part. In the last moments of his life he looks for something to say and finds that he has no lines.
'Bring him here.' Hands thrust him onto his knees before the Dark Lord.
'Regulus.' A long finger curves under his chin, forcing his head up. The red eyes examine him. 'Lucius tells me that you are… discontented.'
He doesn't need the hands that hold his head steady, forcing him to meet Voldemort's gaze. Regulus tilts his chin up and looks into the Dark Lord's eyes.
'I am disappointed, Regulus. Are you not happy with what I have given you?'
The red eyes stare into his and Regulus' head explodes. He lets Lord Voldemort have it all, opens every chamber of his mind. After an age, the thin hands release him and he tumbles forward onto the carpet.
'Hmm.' The voice is thoughtful. 'So you have not betrayed me yet.'
'My Lord -'
'If you cannot give me total loyalty, Regulus, I want nothing at all.'
There's a ripple of cloth beside his face and he knows that Voldemort has taken out his wand. On the other side of the room, Regulus hears Lucius Malfoy laugh. As Voldemort begins to speak, Regulus twists round to face Malfoy, staring into the implacable grey eyes that are so like his brother's.
stop
Author: lazy_neutrino
Recipient's name: sionnain
Rating: PG-13
Character(s): Regulus
Author's Notes: thanks to snorkackcatcher and winding_path for the beta! The quote at the start is T.S. Eliot.
The Lesser Evil
"We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown."
play
There are places he'll remember all his life, but he doesn't think this is one of them. The tide is out, but the sea still slaps insistently against the rock. He isn't sure if he can really hear it, or if it's just in his head. At the very edge of his vision the lake seems to ripple, but the water is level when he turns to look.
He raises his wand and whispers the word he should not know, then takes his treasure like a hero from a story book.
pause
The ground floor is deserted when he returns but he can hear the sound of arguing upstairs. He shrugs. It's no business of his. Keeping one hand thrust deep into his robes, he drops his dirty travelling cloak on the floor and goes to his room.
He locks the bedroom door behind him, even though it won't keep Kreacher out, then sits on the bed and buries his head in his hands. It's a glorious summer evening outside; the high voices of children are carried up to him as they play in the streets. The clouds are steady on a pale blue sky.
He wonders if perhaps a thunderstorm would be more fitting, if there should be turbulence above to reflect the turbulence within. Would I be Gryffindor now, he thinks, if I were Sorted again?…Or did it need that tiny touch of Slytherin?
He wonders what Sirius would say.
rewind
Chandeliers throw light onto a hundred mirrors and the crystal decanters sparkle in the firelight. Narcissa is wearing blue, a deep sea-blue that brings out the grey of her eyes. Beside her Bellatrix is splendid in robes the colour of blood.
The wine is a deep rich red, warm and full. It's better than anything they have at home and he takes a second sip, savouring the tannic aftertaste as it coats the roof of his mouth.
'Regulus,' says a voice behind him and he turns to face Lucius Malfoy.
'Mr. Malfoy.' He extends a hand, but Lucius is looking behind him.
'You came alone?'
'Father sends his regards. You didn't really think my brother would come, did you?' Regulus laughs and Lucius laughs with him, but the grey eyes are frowning and scanning the room.
'Not really,' Lucius replies. 'But I was hoping he would have outgrown these foolish whims by now. His actions bring shame upon your family.'
Regulus nods. 'My mother has disinherited him,' he tells Lucius proudly. 'She blasted his name off the family tapestry.'
Lucius gives him an odd look. 'In that case, you must come to my study later.' He smiles. 'There's someone I want you to meet.'
pause
There are moments that define a life. Regulus knows instinctively that this is one of them. If it were given to us to recognise each moment like this, he thinks, there is nothing we could not be, and Mother - I won't let you down the way Sirius did.
'Regulus.' The voice is high and thin. Long fingers steeple on an ebony desk. 'Come here.'
Eyes are on him as he walks across the study floor. Without thinking, he drops to one knee and bows his head. There is a pleased laugh from across the desk. A mutter of approval behind him.
'Look at me.'
He raises his head and meets Lord Voldemort’s eyes.
It is like looking into the heart of the sun.
pause
His father is a bag of ancient bones, closeted in a darkening study. His brother is a burn mark on a tapestry. There is no-one else.
He will not let his mother down.
fast forward
He meets Sirius once in the Leaky Cauldron, when neither of them expects it. He watches as Sirius' face freezes over and he stands quite still, staring at Regulus.
He raises an eyebrow. 'Hello, Sirius,' he says, as pleasantly as he can. (The pale, brown-haired man walking up behind his brother with the drinks stops dead, then turns right round and walks away again.)
'Regulus.' His brother's hand is on his wand. (A wizard at a nearby table glances up, then nudges his companion. They pick up their glasses and leave.)
'Haven't seen you around lately.' It's a challenge. He sees his brother's eyes narrow. (In the distance the bartender is watching.)
Sirius breathes slowly, in and out through his nostrils. Regulus doesn't think he's breathing at all. He keeps his eyes fixed on Sirius.
Just when Regulus thinks his lungs are about to burst, Sirius speaks. 'I needed a change of air,' he says. He wrinkles his nose. 'I think I need one now. There's a foul smell in here.'
Regulus stiffens. He begins to raise his wand, but there's a hand on his sleeve, restraining him. 'Easy, boy. He's not worth it.' Through a red mist he recognises Evan Rosier.
He allows Rosier to turn him and starts to walk away. Sirius' voice, high and clear in the smoke-filled pub, stops him in his tracks.
'Regulus! Ask your friend Malfoy how our father died.'
play
He crosses to the bureau and twists the family crest to open the secret drawer. He shoves the locket inside and closes the drawer.
I wonder if anyone will ever find it? He turns his back on the bureau and walks to the windows, yanking back the green velvet curtains. Pulling out his wand, he places the tip against his forehead.
There are moments he will remember all his life, but this is not one of them.
'Obliviate,' he whispers as the sun streams in.
fast forward
He has dreamed of being a hero, but there are no more heroes. His rôle has turned out to be a walk-on part. In the last moments of his life he looks for something to say and finds that he has no lines.
'Bring him here.' Hands thrust him onto his knees before the Dark Lord.
'Regulus.' A long finger curves under his chin, forcing his head up. The red eyes examine him. 'Lucius tells me that you are… discontented.'
He doesn't need the hands that hold his head steady, forcing him to meet Voldemort's gaze. Regulus tilts his chin up and looks into the Dark Lord's eyes.
'I am disappointed, Regulus. Are you not happy with what I have given you?'
The red eyes stare into his and Regulus' head explodes. He lets Lord Voldemort have it all, opens every chamber of his mind. After an age, the thin hands release him and he tumbles forward onto the carpet.
'Hmm.' The voice is thoughtful. 'So you have not betrayed me yet.'
'My Lord -'
'If you cannot give me total loyalty, Regulus, I want nothing at all.'
There's a ripple of cloth beside his face and he knows that Voldemort has taken out his wand. On the other side of the room, Regulus hears Lucius Malfoy laugh. As Voldemort begins to speak, Regulus twists round to face Malfoy, staring into the implacable grey eyes that are so like his brother's.
stop