Title: Fated
Author: lingering_nomad
Pairing: Severus/Regulus
Disclaimer: The characters used herein are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros, various publication houses etc. I stake no claim on them by using them in this story. This is written purely for recreational purposes. No money is being made and no harm is intended.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 704
Warnings: Implied slash.
Summary: Severus makes a difficult decision.
A/N: This is the prelude to Haunted: Ghosts.
~FATED~
"He's mad, Severus!" the younger boy insisted, glaring up at him with enough conviction to all but nullify the four inches that separated them. "I know how to defeat him, Sev! I swear by Hecate. But..."
There Regulus faltered, a crack of uncertainty splintering the almost Gryffindorian determination in his sleet-grey gaze – too much like his brother's.
Severus swallowed the bile that always rose at thoughts of the elder Black and forced himself to focus on the direness of his current quandary. It was ironic really. For all Sirius' efforts he had never been able to stir the degree of despair in Severus' chest that his little brother was managing with nothing more than an imploring look.
"Reg..." He swallowed again, feeling as though a ball of barbed wire was making its way down his oesophagus. "It's suicide!" he hissed through his teeth when at last he found the voice to speak, his fingers clawing 'round the sinewy arms of his... his comrade?
Friend?
Lover?
... Willing the smaller boy to rethink the course of action that could lead nowhere other than an early grave.
"Not if you aide me," Regulus replied in a whisper, his soul in his eyes and Severus felt something sharp twist in his chest. What in Merlin's name had he ever done to deserve such faith? It was true that the sixteen months between them often seemed like a greater divide, but the fact of it was that whatever insights he may hold over his peers were nowhere near sufficient to overthrow a wizard of the Dark Lord's calibre.
He knew Regulus spoke the truth when he called their Master "mad," and Severus was equally convinced that the man – if that term could even be said to apply – was not as invincible as he claimed, but surely there were others better suited to the task than a pair of children playing at theaffairs of men. He himself had no kin of prominence, no name of note, and Reg's parents were too blinded by their own megalomania to be of any use. And his brother—
Severus suppressed a tremor at the thought.
Sirius had ties to Dumbledore. That much he knew, but the bastard was more likely to see them both submit to the Kiss than give them so much as the time of day. "I—Reg, I..." Unable to voice the words, he shook his head in denial, feeling his own eyes burn as the first tears of what could only be described as betrayal cut glittery furrows down Regulus' features, pale as porcelain in the moonlight.
Dear God, he was beautiful.
Severus fully expected violence to ensue; a hex at the very least, but what he received instead scarred more deeply than any physical wound. Reg's hand came up to sift through his hair, cupping the back of his neck and drawing him down as the young pureblood arched up to meet him, bringing their lips together in a Judas Kiss, branding him more thoroughly than the black magic seared into his left arm ever could.
The kiss was chaste, a parting of ways, and salty with grief. It was bitter and harsh in its gentility yet Severus couldn't bear for it to end.
At last it was Regulus who pulled away, his eyes resigned as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind Severus' ear. He nodded once then. In acknowledgement of what, Severus didn't know and as he stood there, watching the slim form stride to the edge of the clearing where the port-key had been stowed, he saw the stars reflected in the glittering silver eyes that looked back him, a moment before Regulus was spirited away, and couldn't help but wonder at the allegiance of the Fates.
~FIN~
