A.N: Prompts at the bottom to avoid giving anything away.

Word Count: 3,480

Runs in the Family

Written for Sam (MissingMommy) :)

Regulus Black clutched the heavy silver locket in his fist. It was an ancient piece of jewelry that had been passed through his family for generations, and wasn't something that your average Vampire Hunter wore around his neck.

The usually cool silver throbbed warmly beneath his fingers, as Regulus took a step into the dark forest he was standing in front of. The locket had an innate ability to sense the presence of the undead, no matter what form of glamour or disguise they were using. It was deathly cold when there were no vampires around, and grew warmer and warmer as the wearer drew nearer.

Regulus drew his wand once he was past the threshold of the forest. This was the third area he'd been to after a string of attacks on the British west coast. Ten waitresses from small town cafes and diners had been murdered and drained of their blood, and Regulus was determined to find the vampire that was responsible.

The air grew colder as Regulus ventured deeper into the forest, and he repressed a shiver, keeping his fist clamped over the locket. It was hotter than ever, almost scalding the palm of his hand, but he clutched it all the same.

"Come out," he shouted into the thick of the trees, holding his wand out. He wasn't in the business of sneaking up on vampires; there was no point in trying to act stealthy amongst the sneakiest creatures in existence. The vampire—or vampires—will have known that a Hunter was among them before Regulus even set foot in the forest.

In answer, a crackle of dry leaves and twigs sounded somewhere to Regulus's left, and he snapped his attention in that direction. A man stood in front of a large oak tree, staring right at Regulus.

If Regulus didn't know any better, he wouldn't think there was anything amiss with the man—aside from the fact that he was standing around in the dark forest in the middle of the night, wearing nothing but ripped denim jeans and a stained grey t-shirt. He wouldn't think there was anything too unusual about his oddly pale skin, and the way his eyes glittered with a strange hunger as he gazed over at Regulus. He wouldn't think there was anything that odd about the sharp glint in his mouth as he grinned.

However, no matter how well trained Regulus was in the art of spotting these dark creatures from average, normal humans, it never failed to surprise him just how normal they looked. The vampire in front of him just looked like an average young man, aside from the slight differences, with dark sandy hair and chestnut coloured eyes. He was attractive. 'At least, he would have been attractive back when he was a human,' Regulus corrected his thoughts hastily, as he steeled his gaze at the vampire.

"You have violated the laws between wizards and sentient humanoid creatures," Regulus spoke, reeling off the statement he was required to read out to anyone or anything that had broken the measures that the Ministry had laid out. "As such you must either submit to a trial in front of the Wizengamot, or should you resist, you will be executed."

The vampire arched an eyebrow. "And what exactly are the charges?" he asked smoothly, a smirk playing on his face.

"Killing and draining ten Muggle women of their blood all along the coastline. You've risked exposing yourself and the magical world; don't you realise the implications? Rumours of vampirism have already sparked amongst Muggles!"

"Muggles?" the vampire scoffed. "I haven't murdered any Muggles. Least of all any female Muggles." He looked almost offended at the accusation. "I prefer my dinner a little more…" his eyes flickered up and down Regulus's frame. "Masculine."

Regulus felt his cheeks heat up, but he regained his composure. "Due to the nature of the crimes—"

The vampire held up his hand. "Shouldn't you introduce yourself before you start accusing innocent bystanders?" He stretched out the hand in greeting. "My name is Barty," he continued. "And clearly you are a member of the Ministry of Magic's vampire defense league?"

Regulus narrowed his eyes and didn't take Barty's hand. "No, there is no such league."

"You're a Hunter, aren't you?" Barty asked, and he stepped closer to Regulus. "In fact…" he loomed ever closer, his dark eyes scanning Regulus's face. "I would even wager that you're one of those Hunters. An Original."

"If you're asking if I'm from the Black family, then yes," Regulus confirmed. "I'm part of the new generation of Black Vampire Hunters."

"A proud title indeed," sneered Barty. "I should have known when I first saw you. You have the look of an Original Hunter, and you carry yourself like one...but you're different."

"Different?"

Barty began to circle around Regulus slowly. "You're not like them. You don't have the same...lust for vampire blood."

"We do not have a lust for vampire blood," scoffed Regulus.

"Your family have desired nothing more than to hunt vampires ever since they came into existence." Barty reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small silver case, from which he pulled a cigarette, placing it between his teeth. "Do you mind?" he nodded towards Regulus's wand. Regulus furrowed his brow, but ignited the tip of the cigarette with his wand nonetheless.

"I've never met a vampire who smoked cigarettes before."

"How many vampires have you actually stood and spoke to before?" Barty grinned. "It's not really necessary. But it helps curb the other addictions. You see, I don't usually make a habit of wandering into Muggle suburbs for a snack. I've been trying to keep a low profile for the last few centuries. I've been hiding from my father since I escaped from him and his cruelty."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Regulus replied flatly. "But we don't need to be chatting idly right now. I have a duty—"

"—to who?" interrupted Barty, his eyes sparkling. "Who is your duty to?"

The question caught him off guard. The truth was, he didn't really have a duty to anyone, except his family. He was a Hunter, like his parents and their parents before him, but he wasn't required by the Ministry to be one. Regulus had just always had an expectation to fulfil; to continue with the family tradition.

"I don't know," Regulus murmured, lowering his wand slowly. "To humankind? To the Muggles?"

"To your parents," finished Barty, turning his gaze upwards to the starry night sky. "Listen, whether you believe me or not—I'm not your murderous culprit. I haven't killed a human for at least a hundred years. I drink to survive, but I always leave my prey breathing. I've been hiding for a long time, and I'd like it to stay that way."

"I'm sorry," and to his surprise, Regulus really did feel sorry. While Barty was menacing and had no doubt been a notorious vampire at some point in his long life, he didn't think he was lying. "But you're the first vampire I've found since these murders began. You're going to need to be taken in for questioning." Before Barty could react, Regulus had flicked his wand silently, and a series of magically enforced ropes spun through the air and secured Barty's wrists, arms and feet. He fell forward inelegantly, though he twisted his head to face Regulus.

His sultry, seductive expression was gone. Now, Regulus definitely wouldn't have any problem mistaking him for a vampire. His lips were curled into a cruel snarl, his fangs displayed angrily, and the whites of his eyes had flooded a deep, blood red. "You'll pay for this," he seethed, those suddenly grotesque eyes burning up at Regulus. "If they find me, you will pay.

"I'm sorry," Regulus repeated, before knocking the vampire unconscious with a spell. And oddly enough, he truly was.

oOo

The first thing Regulus did was take the vampire home. He was a Vampire Hunter, but unlike his parents, he wasn't a registered Hunter, so it was up to Walburga or Orion Black to take the vampire in for questioning.

He hadn't expected his mother's eyes to light up so much when he brought the weakened, unconscious vampire into his home at Grimmauld Place.

"Well done, my child," she crooned as she had the vampire taken into the basement. "You've done well this time. You should be proud of yourself."

Regulus swelled with pride. He couldn't help but feel a glow at the compliment from his mother. He hated to admit it, but he worked hard to prove himself to Walburga, and it always fuelled his confidence when she noticed him for his achievements.

But even the appreciation she paid him didn't distract him from how differently she approached treating this vampire, as she would any other one. "Mother," he started, taking care to think ahead of his words. "Why are you not having Barty transferred to the Ministry? Why is he in our basement?"

"Barty?" sneered Walburga, and any complimentary expression on her face was instantly gone. "You learned the creature's name? What on earth were you doing with it before you came home?"

Heat spread across Regulus's cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mother."

"This vampire is different. We've been looking for someone from it's bloodline for years. Back when it was acceptable for it to have a name and lineage, it was a Crouch. And the Crouches have been vampires for millenia, even taking some of our ancestors with them."

"Why is the bloodline different from any other vampire?"

Walburga's face contorted. "My dear boy, aren't you paying attention? The Crouch vampires have taken members of the Black family as their thralls for generations, turning the very nature of our ancestry into bloodsucking beasts," she spat. "We have never before been able to capture a Crouch. The line needs exterminating, and now that we finally have one in our grasp, the rest of them will come crawling."

Regulus didn't reply. He knew just how important honour was to his family—especially his mother—and just knowing that some ancestors in their family history had succumbed to vampiric tendencies would enrage her. However, he couldn't help but worry about Barty's safety under the wrath of his mother. He wasn't entirely sure why he was concerned, as he could still be executed by the Ministry if he was found guilty. But at least he would have the chance of a fair trial.

oOo

By nighttime, the screams and howls and yells were unbearable to listen to.

Regulus had been cooped up in his bedroom since he had brought Barty home to his parents, and he had regretted doing so ever since. He dreaded to think what Walburga was doing to him down there, but it wouldn't be good, and she wanted everyone to know about it. After all, it would be only too easy for her to cast a muffliato spell on the basement to ensure no one was disturbed by the noise.

He waited until he heard the door to the basement open, and soft footsteps sounded across the hallway and up the stairs as his mother headed to the bathroom. Once the lock clicked, Regulus shot out of his bedroom and down to the cellar, heading down the spiral staircase into the darkness.

Barty Crouch looked nothing like he did mere hours ago. To Regulus's horror, he was secured to the concrete wall at the back of the basement in a dreadfully inhumane fashion. Instead of using chains or ropes, Walburga had hammered iron nails into the palms of his hands and fixed him to the wall in a crucifix fashion, and then twisted the nails into hooks so that he wouldn't be able to pull himself free. He was bare-chested and had dozens of incision sites across his chest, abdomen, neck and upper arms. Plastic tubes had been fixed inside the wounds, causing dark red blood to flow through them and into a large metal tank that was placed by Barty's feet.

He looked terribly weak. The whites of his eyes were still crimson and his fangs were still displayed, but he didn't instil the same fear in Regulus as he had done when he had been captured. The blood in his eyes was dull; the gleam in his teeth was gone. His skin was paler than before, if that was possible, and had an almost yellow tinge to it.

'What have I done?' Regulus asked himself, horrified at the scene before him. It didn't matter if this was a human or the undead; no-one should be subject to this kind of torture.

Without thinking, he lunged forward for the tubes that were attached to Barty, pulling them out of his wounds in handfuls. He through the bloody tubes to the ground and reached for the rusted nails that held Barty to the wall. Using all his strength, Regulus twisted back the bent nails and yanked them out of his palms. The vampire hissed as the iron was ripped out of his skin, which had probably begun to heal around the nails. He sank to the ground ungracefully, and Regulus dropped to his knees beside him.

"I'm so sorry," he gasped, and Barty turned his head weakly towards him.

"I told you," Barty croaked. "Your family lust for vampire blood." He nodded towards the container that was partially filled with his blood.

"You're not healing," Regulus held up Barty's hand to his face. The holes in his palm were still fresh, and showing no sign of repairing quickly like a vampire usually did. "Why aren't you healing?"

"I don't have enough blood. I'll die if I don't get blood soon." Barty didn't look cocky as he had done earlier—in fact, he looked somewhat afraid.

"Are you afraid of death?" Regulus asked quietly.

"Death is scary," Barty murmured. "I've been avoiding it for thousands of years."

Regulus could have walked away and let Barty die. He could have backed out of the basement and called for his mother, apologise for what he'd done and allow her to return to her work. He could have even made a trip to the Ministry with Barty himself, and let them deal with him.

But Regulus didn't do any of those things. He felt nothing but guilt at what he'd done; how he had acted with his pompous desire to make his parents proud of him. He'd delivered the lamb straight to the slaughter.

"You didn't kill those women, did you?"

"I told you. I never laid a hand on any waitress."

Regulus peeled back his sleeve and held a pale arm towards Barty. "You need to drink from me."

Barty's eyes bored into Regulus's. "You're offering yourself to a starved vampire," he purred. "You don't know me. You don't know whether I have the self control not to drain you dry."

"I owe you this much." Regulus moved his arm closer to Barty's mouth. Barty maintained eye contact with Regulus as he drew his lips back and sank his teeth into Regulus's flesh.

As Barty latched on and began to suck the blood straight out of his veins, Regulus winced. He dreaded to think what his mother would say if she found out he had 'succumbed to vampiric tendencies', but he realised he no longer cared. He cared for his mother, had desired her love and affection for as long as he could remember. But thinking about her stringing up any being, human or otherwise, up onto the wall of their basement and leeching blood from him like a slaughterhouse pig, made him feel physically sick.

Regulus felt his heart throbbing in his ears as Barty regained strength, and his grip on Regulus's arm grew stronger. "Hey," he murmured, trying to pull his arm away. "Don't you think you've had enough?" The wounds across his chest were beginning to heal; the skin stitching together and the blood congealing.

Barty pulled his mouth away, looking blissed. Regulus began to shuffle back so that he could stand up, but Barty yanked at his arm, pulling him closer. He gripped at Regulus's shoulders tightly, and attached his mouth to Regulus's neck.

"Stop!" Regulus hissed, seething with pain as he felt Barty drawing blood straight from an artery in his neck. "You're going to kill me!" he reached into his pocket for his wand with a shaking hand, but Barty swatted it away, sending it flying across the room.

"You almost killed me," Barty's voice was thick as he spoke through mouthfuls of blood. "But I'm not going to kill you." He shoved Regulus away quickly, and wiped his mouth. Regulus clutched the wound in his neck with his uninjured arm. "All that blood looks good on you," murmured Barty, his eyes scanning the fresh blood that ran down his neck and arm. "It brings out your eyes." He paused for a moment, before biting into his own wrist and offering it to Regulus. "Here. It'll help heal your injuries."

Regulus looked appalled. "I'm not drinking your blood," he hissed, reeling.

Barty smirked. "Get over yourself. You've been drinking vampire blood all your life." He gestured towards the container that had been collecting Barty's blood until recently, and then looked back at Regulus.

The realisation hit Regulus all at once.

What was it that Barty kept saying about the Black Vampire Hunters? The lust for blood? Vampire blood had unique effects on humans; it heightened their senses, made them stronger, faster, able to heal faster than normal. All the Hunters in Regulus's family maintained those traits—even Regulus.

His stomach churned. Had Walburga been secretly giving him vampire blood all of his life? Did she feed it to him as an infant, and implant it into his food as he grew older? As Regulus was an adult now, she wouldn't have had as many chances to give it to him. He wondered why she hadn't made him aware of this—didn't she trust him? Or was there some kind of rule in place that stopped him from learning before a certain age? His thoughts flickered towards his older brother, who he hadn't seen or heard from in some time. He had been growing as a Vampire Hunter, until he turned twenty-one, and then suddenly he announced that he was leaving, and Walburga had him swiftly abjured from his family.

Sirius was nothing like their parents or ancestors, even less so than Regulus. He didn't like hunting vampires at the best of times, especially if he was expected to execute them without reason. Regulus knew that being forced to torture and drain a vampire of it's blood would have been the final straw for Sirius.

Regulus shuddered, but he allowed Barty to press his wrist to his lips. Cringing, he sucked in a mouthful of blood and gulped it down. Barty's eyes burned into him, and Regulus noticed the way he bit down firmly on his bottom lip until Regulus was finished.

"Your mother will have you thrown out of your family for this betrayal, you know that, don't you?" Barty announced. "Perhaps you should run away with me."

Regulus arched an eyebrow, still clutching his bleeding neck. "You're joking, aren't you? My mother is possibly the greatest Hunter of this century. She will find us, and kill us."

"I don't know. She will find me hard to catch, and even harder to kill."

"I managed to find you."

Barty's lips curled. "I wanted you to find me."

A warmth spread through Regulus's middle. It probably wasn't the greatest choice to run away with a dangerous vampire that had just almost drained him of his life, but Walburga was a force to be reckoned with. The bite marks on his forearm and neck would heal to scars, and no amount of glamour or disguise would prevent her from discovering that not only had Regulus released her most prized prisoner, but he had allowed a vampire to feed from him. It would dishonour her more than ever, worse than whatever it was that Sirius did to wind up being burned off the family tapestry. Walburga would want to burn Regulus off the planet altogether.

"Okay," Regulus breathed. "But you have to come to the Ministry with me. Not to be taken in for questioning over the murders," he added quickly, seeing Barty's face contort. "But to be a witness when I tell them what she has been doing to vampires, and what she did to you. Torturing and killing any sentient creature without a lawful execution writ is a crime."

Barty nodded. "Fine. But when it's all done, we get away from your family—and mine."

"Maybe you can tell me about them while we run."

Barty smiled, for the first time it was a real, genuine smile. "Maybe."

-End-

Written For:

- (Very late) 2017 GGE for Sam (MissingMommy)!

- Assignment #7/Wandlore - Sleeping Beauty: Write about someone going into hiding

- Writing Club/Creature Feature: Blood Sucking Bugbear - Vampire!AU, Troll - (word) grotesque

- Writing Club/Book Club: Mama-ji - (colour) blood red, (word) ancient, (dialogue) "They will find me hard to catch, and even harder to kill.", (object) jewelry

- Writing Club/Showtime: Secrets - (object) locket

- Writing Club/Ami's Audio Admirations: Censorship - (plot point) Rated M

- Writing Club/Sophie's Shelf: Everybody Smokes - Write about someone who smokes heavily.

- Easter Bingo: Restriction - No using the word 'said'

- Easter Guess the Name - Licorice: (job) Vampire Hunter

- Gobstones: Gold Stone - Escape, Accuracy - (word) Starry, Power - (word) Spiral, Technique - (word) Shiver

- Scavenger Hunt: Write a fic about a non-canon Marauder era pairing or triad.

- TV Addicts: True Blood - (dialogue) "Death is scary. I've been avoiding it for thousands of years.", (occupation) Waitress, (word) Blood

- Couple Appreciation: (trope) First Meet

- Hogwarts Auction: (pairing) Barty/Regulus

- April Event: Pinata Challenge/Easy - Marauder Era

- April Event: National Astrology Day - Regulus Black II

- April Event: Unicorn Day - N, (word) Notorious

- 365 Prompts: (dialogue) "All that blood looks good on you. It brings out your eyes."