Regulus was not stupid. That should be said from the start since it was something that was commonly brought up considering he was related to Sirius. Sirius, someone who was actually istupid/i as far as he was concerned despite the marks he received in school. Regulus shook his head though. He was trying to not think of his no good excuse for a brother. It was, after all, Sirius's fault he was this far in. He took a deep breath and walked to where the liquor was kept in Grimmauld. There was a lot of thinking to be done with this new information that he had. This new information could change everything about the way that he faced this war. Mother and Father were out, thankfully. Some charity event or another, it was the time of year for them at least.

The owl he received about the news was sitting on his desk upstairs but he could still see exactly what it said as if it were floating in front of him.

iMessr. Regulus Black,

Our Lord requests your presence at the celebration of the death of a prominent Order member, Dorcas Meadowes. Her father was a loyal member of our ranks until he was killed by the Order and the ungrateful and traitorous wench herself. Your presence is mandatory unless you are otherwise assigned.

Bellatrix Lestrange/i

The letter caused him pain from a wound he thought had healed long ago. He nearly smiled as he thought of their youth together. Dorcas and himself had, in truth, not been friends. They were allies in a hostile environment that was forced upon them by their parents. They protected each other from the undesirable others that frequented the same charity balls that his parents were at now. The news was part of why he declined to go. He took a long sip from the whiskey he had poured for himself. The burning in his throat offered little comfort but did provide him with what he thought he deserved, pain. The closest person he had come to being truly friends with was dead and it was, in part, his fault.

He could still remember the last time they spoke before he had taken the mark. It was just before his sixth year and her seventh. He had saved her from one cretin or another and they spent the night bickering as they usually did. He nearly smiled at the memory. It was close as they had ever come to being friendly. He missed her fiercely and wished he had broken their rules and said something about what he was about to be forced to do. Perhaps she would've been able to help him somehow. That was their arrangement, after all. Helping each other out of situations that were beyond their control.

The look on her face when she had seen him just after the mark was something he'd never forget either. The hatred was evident to anyone who knew her. That was something that any idiot could see. He could see that she was hurt and disappointed as well. Those emotions were worse than anything else. He had betrayed his ally and was alone in the world once again.

That's exactly how he felt now. He was expected to attend this celebration but had no ally to hide with and secretly mock the entire importance of the event. In all actuality, he felt that this event was more important because it further emphasized that he was actually alone in the world . He finished the whiskey in his glass and stared at its emptiness for a long moment. He turned around quickly and threw the glass against the wall feeling some satisfaction in hearing the glass shatter. He sat where he stood, bending his knees so he could rest his elbows on them and by extension, his face in his hands.

He clenched his eyes close. He knew it wouldn't be long before Kreacher came running in to check on him. He took a deep breath and sighed. In some way, he felt that he had let her down by letting her die. He knew it wasn't his fault she was dead but he felt that if he hadn't joined the Death Eaters then maybe…Maybes wouldn't help him now.

"Master Regulus?"

"I'm fine, Kreacher." Regulus sighed.

"No, someone is here to see you." Kreacher said, voice shaking terribly.

Regulus's head shot up and he stood quickly. He wasn't expecting anyone so the odds that it was for something good were very small. It would not do to appear less than prepared for anything being thrown at him.

"Who is it, Kreacher," Regulus asked quietly.

A small shiver passed through the elf's body as he prepared himself to answer but he didn't get a chance. Voldemort crossed into the room. Regulus froze and tried his best to not look completely terrified at the appearance of his Lord.

"My apologies, my Lord," Regulus all but whispered, "I was not expecting company this evening and was just…"

Voldemort put up his hand to stop the boy's pathetic attempt at lying. He knew about the young Black boy's weak inclination to feel sympathy for the filthy blood traitor who was just murdered. "Please, spare me your ramblings," he hissed.

Regulus shrank in place. Voldemort could not possibly…

"I know everything so I am giving you a chance to prove yourself. I need to borrow your elf," Voldemort spat out not wanting to waste more time on this than was necessary. Regulus nodded his consent without even thinking about it. It may have been cowardly, but at the moment he did not wish to join Dorcas.

"Thank you," Voldemort murmured derogatively, "You may not be as spineless as your cousin suggests." With that, Kreacher and he disappeared. Regulus opened his mouth to say something but as the moment had passed he was left looking a bit like a carp. Closing his mouth slowly, he took his wand out of his pocket. Repairing the glass he broke, he picked it up off the floor and went back to get another drink.

There was a sinking feeling in his stomach about what had just occurred but he shrugged it off as simply more guilt and grief bothering him. He was also hoping, as he ascended the stairs to his room, that being without his house elf would be reason enough to skip the celebration. As it were, he was not inclined to just up and party about the death of someone who could have been.