A/N: My first published story :3 Please forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes. Hope you enjoy. Cookies for reviewers c:
The first time he saw her with his brother, he felt his heart sink; he didn't know why. He wasn't jealous, because even he could see that she and his brother were simply made for each other. It was something else, something he couldn't quite define – maybe it was the fact that, damn, she looked so genuinely beautiful; her long, blonde curls, looking just like melt gold in candlelight; her eyes, the deep and soft colour of forget-me-not; her ash rosy lips, soft and plump; her laughter, just like the sound of chimes.
'Marlene McKinnon?' said Rabastan Lestrange half-jokingly when he saw where he was looking. 'You've got a good eye, Black, but she's rather out of your league.'
He was so right.
They were so different, that the world itself stood between them.
He was ice; she was fire. He was a serpent; she was a lion. He had grown up in a dark and gloomy family; she had grown up surrounded by love and laughter. He fought for what he had been taught was good; she fought for what she knew was good. He would hardly ever talk; she would always chat with her friends and laugh and joke, and he would do nothing but look at her in amazement, because she was so different, and he loved things that were different from what he knew, from what he had been taught was good. She would do anything, whenever she pleased; he would do only the things that were good enough in order to live up to his name, as the heir of the Noble and most Ancient House of Black.
She was a McKinnon – famed for their freakiness.
He was a Black – famous for their pureblood supremacy ideas.
It was a million years' gap between the two of them; a gap as deep as the darkest abyss, and a mountain as high as the sky itself. Everything in the world stood against the two of them, and he would've been just a fool now to know that much.
Because he was Regulus Black.
And he was supposed to know everything.
/*/
The second time they became aware of each other was on top of the Astronomy Tower, around three o'clock in the morning, on her very last night on the grounds of Hogwarts. She was smoking, and she was surrounded by that obnoxious, sour and sweet cherry aroma, which maddened his senses and drove him mad. He was standing right next to her, leaned over the metal railing in the tower, looking at the starry sky and at the moon, which was just a silver cresting smiling provocatively, almost daring him.
'It's a war out there,' she said. She sighed shortly, exhaling the blue-grey smoke, which rose to the sky.
'Are you afraid?'
'No.'
'Then kiss me.'
The words had come out of his mouth before he could realize what he was saying. That didn't seem to bother her, though, as she threw her cigarette on the concrete floor, crushing it with her leg. She then drew closer to him, putting one of her beautiful and pale hands on his neck, and the other one, resting it on his chest. His breathing became interrupted, and he could feel his heart pounding harder than ever in his chest, as she pressed her breasts onto him. 'Do I turn you on, Black?' she asked.
He gulped audibly, and she smirked, coming closer to him. He closed his eyes, and waited.
'Next time we meet, we'll be enemies.'
Her whisper, so close to his ear, had come unexpectedly. In shock, he opened his eyes wide, only to see her turn her back on him, and go out of the room. He closed his eyes yet again, and let himself fall on the concrete floor, his back on the cold railing. Just as he was sighing, he heard her voice, coming from somewhere downstairs. 'I trust you know that much, Black.'
He felt a tear on his cheek.
He knew.
Because he was Regulus Black, and he knew that much.
/*/
The third time they fought each other, it was near a very small Muggle village, somewhere in the mountains. He knew she was there right away, for the air was filled with a sweet aroma of freesia, sage and lavender. It was only her and the Prewett brothers; they were so easily outnumbered... For a brief second, he felt sorry for what he did, and he did believe that it was genuinely wrong.
He shook the thought out of his head.
'Came to save the filth?' snapped Bellatrix, smirking. 'Too late, McKinnon!'
Bellatrix made a short gesture with her hand, and, from the tip of her wand, she shot a beam of red light towards the wooden house, which burst into flames immediately. From inside the house, they could all clearly hear the scared screams of some children. Regulus felt his heart sink; not because he heard the children crying, but because he saw her beautiful face covered in tears.
'She's mine!' exclaimed Bellatrix, as she attacked Marlene, leaving the Prewett twins to the rest of the Death Eaters.
Dark tears.
Hadn't he been in the midst of a life-and-death duel himself, Regulus would've watched Bellatrix duel Marlene; they were both so talented and fighting with such anger and pain that the earth was shaking. They had murderous looks in their eyes, whilst casting and deflecting each other's spells. Green jets of light lit the forest, illuminating their faces.
Dark tears running across her cheeks, blurring her beautiful, forget-me-not eyes.
As the Killing Curse missed her side by merely inches, and he saw her eyes widen in shock, he swore never to kill again.
Because he was Regulus Black.
And he knew that it was genuinely wrong.
/*/
The fourth time they met by accident, it was on top of the tower in a dark, old castle, not too far away from Hogwarts. It was a cold, spring night, near the dawn, and he had seen her stand there all night long, tears running across her rosy cheeks. For hours and hours he had stood there, looking at her, and thinking that, damn!, she had stolen his heart. He wondered for how long he had unconsciously loved her, watching her from afar, and see her smile and laugh and kiss his own brother; and he couldn't be jealous, not even now, even when he knew that he loved her with everything he had, because Sirius was so much worthier of her than he could ever be.
It was only near the dawn when he made courage and approached her, just as the sun rose, far in the east, over the top of the mountains. She shifted slightly to let him knew she was aware of his presence, but said nothing. He went and stood near her, watching the sun rise higher and higher in the sky.
'The city has fallen silent,' she mumbled, almost inaudibly.
He kept silent.
'He's proposed to me, y'know,' Marlene said. 'Sirius. Asked me to marry him, he did. He's a good man. Maybe you should try and talk to him. Deep down, I'm sure he's already forgiven you. He's good...' Her whisper was lost into thin air.
Regulus sighed but, before he could say anything, she went on. 'It's so cold... Like there's no warmth left in the sun.'
'It can't be forever,' he told her, causing her to turn her head and look at him with something resembling a smile on her lips, as if she hadn't been aware of his presence. 'The darkness,' he explained. 'It can't last forever.'
He moved closer to where she stood, and silently took her hand into his. She slowly relaxed her muscles, as if admitting she trusted herself to him. She held onto him for dear life, as if he was her last ray of hope, her saviour, the last thing to keep her anchored to reality.
Because he was Regulus Black.
And he had the power to make her understand he loved her.
/*/
The fifth time he came into her small flat in London, they made love.
It was not something unexpected, though she found it rather peculiar; for her, they were just best friends, who happened to be on opposite sides in a war. But it came only naturally to both of them; first, a kiss.
Then another one.
And another.
And then, next thing she could remember, she was unbuttoning his black shirt, whilst he was kissing her pulse point, at the base of her neck, working on the clasp of her lacy bra. His groans went deep into her, and her moans filled the air. The smell of sweat lingered around the room, as they fought for dominance over the other in her small bedroom.
Their limbs were entangled.
They moved in perfect synchronisation, whilst the moans and grunts of pleasure got louder and louder.
A moan, a grunt, a gasp, and then, his name coming from her perfect, plump, red lips, echoing around the room, standing still in the air before vanishing, moments later, as they both came. Her heavy breathing was the only thing to be heard for some long, long moments, as they remained entangled; his dark hair all sweaty, spread on her white pillow, and her blonde curls tickling him, as she kept her head on his naked torso, her breathing giving him the goosebumps.
'That probably shouldn't have happened,' he mumbled, finally.
She rolled so she was standing on top of him, looking him square in the eye, her blue eyes almost violently staring into his cold grey ones. 'How come?'
'It's just...'
'Don't you understand?!' she snapped, angrily. 'I love you!'
His eyes widened in shock. 'You shouldn't use words like that so easily.'
She didn't seem to hear him, though, as the next second, she lowered herself to kiss him. He was shocked for a split-second moment, but then he placed his hands on her slim waist, rolling her over, and, as he took dominance, she opened her mouth in shock, deepening the kiss. There were several long minutes before either of them would say something, but finally – finally! – he broke the kiss, and looked her in the eye. She looked vulnerable.
'D'you love me, Marlene?'
She bit her bottom lip. 'I do.'
He bent over her and kissed her, his hands roaming over her beautiful, fragile body, as she dug her long, polished nails into his back, probably leaving scars, but drawing him closer to herself. 'Up for another round?' she asked, her lips over his.
'You bet,' he smirked.
Because he was Regulus Black.
And he had the power to make even girls like Marlene McKinnon succumb to him entirely.
/*/
The sixth time he had seen her cry, it was a very dark and warm July night, no stars on the pitch black sky, and she was near the edge of a cliff. The salty smell of the sea was making everything fade away, but even so, he could feel that sweet aroma of hers, freesia and sage and lavender and apple tree. He stood next to her, his cold hand clutching her warm one, as she put her head on his shoulder, crying silently. He didn't dare to move.
'They're dead,' she murmured. 'How come they're dead and I'm alive?'
Regulus didn't answer; he knew all too well what she was talking about. Her family had been found dead earlier that evening. It had been a fight, everyone could make that out – half of their house was destroyed. Marlene herself managed to escape only barely, but everyone else was dead. Her parents. Her three older brothers. Her baby brother, who hadn't been even eleven. How come they were all dead and she was still alive, safe and sound?
'I'm scared, Regulus.'
It was the first time she had admitted she was afraid. It came a bit as a surprise to Regulus, who had always thought she was one of the strongest members of the Order, always in the midst of the fight, always a survivor, always strong. But now, it was the very first time he had seen her other side – a small, scared girl, too small to be fighting in this war. There was too much of a burden on her shoulders.
He gently patted her shoulder, but a second later, he realized it had been the wrong thing to do, as she burst into tears, crying as loud as she could. He didn't know what to do, seeing her break before his very eyes.
'Regulus?' she managed, finally. 'We need to talk.'
He gulped audibly, still clutching her hand.
He knew.
Because he was Regulus Black.
And he knew Marlene McKinnon wouldn't cry over nothing; something had gone as wrong as it was possible.
/*/
The seventh time he felt happy, in his entire life, was that very same dark and warm July night. As the pressure from the Apparition faded, he opened his eyes, and was a bit surprised to see he was in her small flat in London. She turned her back on him, leaving him in her cosy living room, whilst she went to the kitchen. When she returned, she was holding a glass of water in her hand.
She had told him to sit down.
He said he'd rather not, but nonetheless, he moved towards the sofa.
She couldn't wait until he sat; she couldn't have him look at her. Else, how could she have the power to do what had to be done? She told him.
He froze, collapsing on the sofa, not looking at her.
She stood there, tears running across her cheeks, as she cried silently.
The air was still.
Nothing happened for a couple of long, long minutes – and Merlin!, she told herself, how could time go so slow, slow, slow. Impossibly slow. Impossibly still. So void, so bare, so empty. Her body breaking into a million pieces, each piece breaking into a million pieces, a pain she'd never felt before. Painful, painful, painful.
Finally – finally! – he moved. He went straight to where she stood, and embraced her, holding her tight, and feeling her heart beating against his chest. 'It's all right,' he told her. 'It's going to be all right.'
But it wasn't.
They both knew.
But still, she clutched the back of his shirt, nuzzling her head into his shirt. He buried his nose into her blonde curls, and he was surrounded by that beautiful, sweet aroma of hers, but he couldn't lose himself into her, no matter how hard he tried. It wasn't what he'd imagined it'd be like; he didn't want to endanger her, of all the people.
She moved slightly, and he let her go, looking her in the eye. Her beautiful, forget-me-not eyes, which were now painted with silvery tears. He leaned in slightly, leaving her time to back, if she wanted to. She didn't move as he pressed his dry and chapped lips to her soft and plump ones.
And she smiled.
So he smiled, too.
It wasn't what he'd imagined it'd be like.
A warm sensation, coming from his chest, and slowly spreading everywhere in his body; and then, he clutched her, keeping her near his chest, near his beating heart. And he felt happy as she smiled, because it was the only thing that was real in the entire world.
Because he was Regulus Black.
And now, he was the father of Marlene McKinnon's unborn baby, hidden away in her belly, protected only by her frail, porcelain skin, looking as if it'd break at the smallest touch.
His baby.
/*/
The eighth time he falls, he can't be saved anymore.
He watches them from far away, because he knows it's not safe to go too near. He's gone bad, as bad as one could go. He feels his heart sink, he feels like he's dying when he sees her, dressed in a beautiful, white dress, her hands clutching her belly.
But she isn't smiling.
Because no matter what anyone tells him, nothing can change the fact that Marlene McKinnon is dead. As dead as she can be, but still, looking as beautiful as always.
He sees his brother cry as they lowered the casket into the ground.
He sees him cry, and only then, he realizes he's got tears running across his cheeks.
Because he loved her.
And he still loves her.
Her image comes to his mind; not as he's seen her in that casket, dressed in her white dress; but beautiful, as he knows she was, laughing with all her heart, dressed in a red dress, running across a green field, among the old trees, and clutching his hand. He remembers her crying, and him, comforting her. Her sweet aroma, of freesia and sage and lavender and apple tree invades him, and he knows there's no way back now.
As the cold and muddy water filled his lungs, he doesn't fight, because he is Regulus Black, and he knows that she is waiting for him as much as he is waiting for her. And how can he be afraid of dying, when he knows that on the other side, there's Marlene, his beautiful chimaera, and even his unborn child?
He just says one last prayer.
'Marlene McKinnon.'