The names I've used here aren't Avery and Mulciber's canonical first names because as far as I'm aware we don't know them - please tell me if I'm wrong. I felt a bit weird calling them by their surnames while I called others by their first names and when their fathers got involved it got even more confusing. For future reference, I'm going by a general rule in this that if I use a character's first name (real or imagined) then they went to school with Severus and Regulus, if I use their last name then they're the parental units, authority figures, etc. There may be a few exceptions though. I'm going with "Annie" as Andromeda's nickname rather than "Dromeda" because the latter sounds like a camel and she's too classy for that. Maybe she abandoned that nickname when she escaped the family clutches.
idealism: noun - the practice of forming or pursuing ideals, esp. unrealistically
The sunset was staining the wall across from the window in the Rosier family's drawing room a deep blood-red. Evan Rosier, Demetrius Avery and Dantalion Mulciber were standing next to their fathers, looking incredibly bored. The older men in the room discussed business in quiet, measured tones. It gave Regulus the feeling of a particularly strange family reunion, especially as his cousin Bella was somewhere in the room. Regulus suddenly thought of his parents and Kreacher all waiting at home for him and felt a pang of something close to guilt and loneliness.
An angular figure that could only be Severus Snape stood alone in the shadows at the other side of the room and Regulus was bizarrely thankful for his presence. He didn't exactly like him - he made it impossible for people to like him on purpose, Regulus was sure of it - but he had a certain respect for him, the way he seemed to take people's hate in his stride and make himself stronger with it, and the way he'd risen up from unmentioned inauspicious beginnings. They had to be inauspicious; Regulus had checked every relevant book of history and genealogy in his parents' library and not found a single Snape since the 18th Century. Severus had been the one who declared that taking the Mark while still at school was either very brave or very stupid and that which one it turned out to be was entirely up to the bearer, preaching a doctrine of self-determination. One blazed on his sallow skin now, matching Regulus's in every way. His own Mark still stung but the pain was no longer unbearable, unless they were called.
He walked over and Severus looked at him impassively before re-arranging his features into a smirk. "Hello, Black Minor."
Regulus grimaced. "Don't call me that. Ugh. I've told everyone a thousand times... that makes them more inclined to do it, doesn't it?"
"Obviously." Severus leaned on the sideboard.
Demetrius and Dantalion detached themselves from the watchful gaze of their fathers and joined them. Bellatrix was talking directly to the Dark Lord in a hushed and reverent voice, although Regulus couldn't make out the words, and he cringed when he saw her reach out and touch that chalky white hand with its stretched-over-bone skin. "Anyone else would be killed on the spot, or at least get a dose of the Cruciatus Curse," whispered Evan, obviously in awe. But then the Dark Lord pushed her off with a dismissive wave and she pouted before walking back over to Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa's husband of three years now. It couldn't be anyone else; those strands of white-blond hair peeking out from under his hood were highly distinctive. Bellatrix was looking at him in an odd way and Regulus couldn't stop his mind from racing off somewhere unpleasant. He suspected something was going on between her and Rabastan, and her infatuation with the Dark Lord himself had been obvious to him since he'd taken the Mark six months ago, but he couldn't help thinking of how Cissy would feel if Lucius was having some kind of affair and she found out. She had always been his favourite cousin, playing house with him, setting up tea-parties for his toys, hugging him when Annie or Bella or Sirius pushed him or pinched him or tried to shove him in a pond.
Demetrius seemed to pick up on the horrified look on Regulus's face. "I've heard that she's sleeping with both her brothers-in-law," he said casually. Regulus was almost more unsettled about how relaxed he seemed than the slur against his family - he'd never pegged any Avery for the sort who'd gossip like a fishwife at the very first chance he got. But slur it was. Regulus felt a little more angry at Bellatrix than anyone else; he liked Rodolphus more than any of his other in-laws because he could hold a sensible conversation, just so long as he stopped twitching and stuttering for a moment or two.
"I wonder if she likes younger men," said Dantalion with a leer. "And I wager she's not exactly averse to a little experimentation." He flourished his wand. "Although Imperius isn't half as fun if they're willing."
Regulus scowled at them, fists clenched and temper fraying dangerously. "Shut up about Bella. She's my cousin, and - "
"Evan Rosier's her cousin too, and he's not denying that she is... less than wholesome," interrupted Severus Snape, cruelly pushing the issue with the smirk on his face he wore when he knew he'd found a button he could press that would make the person he was baiting feel even worse than he did. Regulus briefly wondered how he could kill all of them and make it look like an accident. "It's always just after the Dark Lord publicly rejects her, isn't it?"
"If you're quite finished," said Regulus in the quietest and calmest tone he could muster, "I've got better things to do than listen to your idle rumour-mongering." He turned around, head held high, and he could feel Severus's glare burning into the back of his neck.
"Don't ignore me when I'm speaking to you!"
"Oh?" Regulus turned back and raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware this was a conversation. To me, it just seemed like you were a little... you know... hormonal. Bitching away like that."
Severus looked more as if he was going to laugh derisively than as if he were insulted. "You, implying that I'm effeminate? That's rich."
The other two had been watching them as if they were interesting specimens in a jar, perhaps silly little insects, and their fathers and the Rosiers didn't even seem to have noticed that they were having a quiet but vicious spat in the middle of the drawing room. The Dark Lord didn't seem to care either, far too busy discussing something with Karkaroff and Nott - the arguments of little children were below him, Regulus supposed. But he suddenly felt scared, exposed, and almost insanely angry, a white-hot rage burning him up from somewhere far too secret to fathom. He took deep breaths, steadying himself, then finally gathered enough resolve to talk without shouting.
"Be quiet, Snape, you're spoiling it."
"Oh, is this your special day, hanging around with the high and mighty?" hissed Severus sarcastically. "Sorry for not sharing your utter joy at what's apparently the only bright spot in your oh-so-torturous week."
Regulus stared at him in disbelief, then he suddenly realised - Severus really didn't care. Regulus was no stranger to the psychological masks people wore on an everyday basis and was guilty of putting on the disguise of apathy himself, mostly to cover up his fire before he burned out altogether. This was a whole new animal. Severus didn't just play at being apathetic about the cause, he really was - going through the motions, saying the words in chorus with everyone else, while not actually caring about the outcome. This new knowledge made Regulus a little nervous, and he scowled.
"Take it outside you two," laughed Evan. With barely contained rage and fear they sneaked across the back of the room and into a dingy corridor.
Regulus matched his opponent glare for glare. They would be glorious, that was what Lucius and Rabastan had said to him, glorious and all-powerful. He didn't like either of them but it was an offer that was hard to refuse. He could even smash Sirius into the ground someday soon if he liked, and he didn't doubt that such a thing had been a good incentive for Severus too. But that was supposed to be an added bonus, not the be-all-and-end-all... wasn't it? He couldn't remember a time when thoughts of pureblood pride and joining the Death Eaters hadn't been accompanied by that feeling of hate twisting and searing all through his body.
He shivered, pushed the thoughts from his mind, and glared at his black-clad companion. "You're a fraud. You don't care about the cause at all, you're just here because you want to destroy everything you can. We're supposed to be creating a new era, not - "
"Look around you," snapped Severus, pushing his hair out of the way of his eyes and looking slightly agitated. He sounded a lot less polished and superior now, and Regulus decided that this slight lapse in control could be rather interesting. "Look back into that room full of polished nitwits. You've been a Death Eater for long enough, do you still think we're all here because of dreams and romanticised principles? You're just a stupid little boy."
"I'm only a year younger than you - "
" - and you haven't lived through half of what I have, so shut up before I hex your lips together." An accent Regulus couldn't place had slipped out in the anger and he mentally noted it. Wonderful ammunition.
"I hate to break up the pity-party, boys," said a familiar, derisive voice, "but this isn't a social event. You are not at the Slug Club Christmas party and you are not old witches at a knitting circle meeting, so be quiet, both of you." Lucius Malfoy had clearly sensed an opportunity to play at being important and followed them out. He sounded unbearably unctuous under that white, expressionless mask. Regulus was increasingly of the opinion that the masks were decorative rather than practical - he could recognise absolutely everyone at the meeting. But now he couldn't help thinking about what Demetrius had said. He felt a vein in his neck pulse a little too hard.
"I hate him," muttered Regulus quietly once Lucius had gone away again.
"Good. Maybe there's the slightest chance you're not as big an idiot as I thought."
They stood in complete silence for a few minutes then walked back into the drawing room, where the Dark Lord had finally stopped discussing whatever plans he had for his more senior followers and finally gave them his full attention.