A/N: Written for the QLFC
Season 5, round 13
Team: Holyhead Harpies
CHASER 2: Bishop: Write about a 'dark' character acting moral.
Optional prompts: 3 (word) freedom / 9 (dialogue) "If I had a Knut for every time I heard that—" / "—You'd still be poor." / 12 (word) desire
Repent
Regulus Black stood in front of his mirror and looked at his reflection. He scowled at what he saw.
"Spoiled brat," he muttered to himself. "What ever happened to 'Blacks lead, others follow?'"
He moved his right sleeve upwards, revealing part of the black tattoo the Dark Lord had branded him with—he had let the Dark Lord brand him with.
"No way back now, Reggie," he said, pushing the sleeve down again. Regulus sighed, he had made his choice and now he had to live with the consequences. He was late for a revelry.
x-x-x
"Cousin! Isn't this exciting?" Regulus' cousin Bellatrix yelled as the troupe of Death Eaters ran through the streets of a small English neighbourhood. Houses were burning on both sides of the street, lit by spell-fire from their group.
"Exciting, yes," Regulus half-heartedly offered. He tried not to think too closely about the sounds he was hearing, he was sure he could hear screams coming from a few of the burning buildings. "Why are we here again?" he asked.
Bellatrix stopped running and turned on the spot, looking at him with her head cocked. "Aww… is wittle Weggie having second thoughts?"
"Don't talk like that, it's creepy," Regulus said. "I'm not. I just don't see what the reason for us being here is." He waved around for emphasis. "We're supposed to teach a Mudblood a lesson, right? So why are we blowing up all these other houses?"
"Because it's fun, dear cousin!" Bellatrix yelled, followed by a cackling laugh. "Chaos! Fear! The Dark Lord has given us the freedom to do what we want, as long as we show the Mudbloods and blood traitors he cannot be stopped!"
"All hail the Dark Lord," Regulus said, sighing again. He cast a fireball at one of the already burning houses. To his horror, screams came out of the burning second story window.
"I knew you could do it, Weggie poo," Bellatrix cooed next to him.
"Stop calling me that, please," he said. He could feel the bile rising.
x-x-x
Back home, Regulus found himself in his bathroom kneeling over the toilet. He tried to throw up again, but the first two times had already cleared his stomach. Grimacing he stood back up and went to the sink to wash out his mouth. His reflection in the bathroom mirror looked miserable.
"Why didn't I listen to you, Sirius?" he asked the air. Sirius, his big blood traitor brother, would know what to say.
'Are you happy you are following your desire, Reggie? Being a mindless murderer for a madman?' he probably would ask—if he were to talk to his brother at all. Not that he would. Sirius had left home, quite happy to do so. He was now living with the Potters and probably fighting with Dumbledore's people against the Dark Lord. Meanwhile, Regulus had to be a 'mindless murderer'.
x-x-x
That evening Regulus was seated at the dinner table with his parents.
"I heard from my brother that your first outing went well, Regulus," Walburga Black said. They had just finished their meal and Regulus inwardly cursed for not immediately leaving the table. The last thing he wanted was to think about his activities some more.
"Yes, Mother. Cousin Bellatrix was there to keep an eye on me."
"Indeed. She was quite impressed, I hear. You have honoured the house of our fathers, Regulus."
Regulus inclined his head slightly to show he appreciated the praise. "Thank you, Mother. I have to admit, though, seeing her… unrestrained… was a bit unsettling."
Walburga cackled in almost exactly the same way as her niece had, earlier that day. "Bellatrix the Mad! If I had a Knut for every time I heard that—"
"You'd still be poor, dear," Regulus' father, Orion, quipped. Regulus drew in a breath. It may have been a harmless pun, but if his mother took it the wrong way…
"Yes, yes, Orion. I am well aware that my side of the family is the poor branch and that you feel you did me a favour by marrying me… but don't forget which of the two of us is the more powerful witch," Walburga said, finishing with a sneer.
"May I be excused?" Regulus asked, not even waiting for the answer as he scrambled out of his seat.
By the time he made his way to the front door he could hear his mother yelling loud enough to rattle the walls.
x-x-x
Regulus hadn't made any plans as he made his way outside, he just wanted to be elsewhere. He wandered aimlessly through the streets, his feet leading him further and further away from Grimmauld Place. Whenever his mother got in one of her moods it was not a good idea to be anywhere close, as she could and would cast random curses. Thinking back on what he saw of Bellatrix earlier that day, Regulus wondered if all Black women were mad. Unfortunately that thought also brought back the memory of burning houses and distant screams… Regulus felt his bile rising up again.
"Are you quite all right, young man?"
Regulus looked up and saw a friendly looking man standing close to him. He was wearing all black—not unlike Regulus himself—except for a rigid, white collar.
"A priest? Oh. Of course. Erm… how do you do?" Regulus asked.
"Quite well, son. Arthur Jenkins, at your service. If you don't mind me saying so, you look troubled."
"I'm Regu—Reggie, Father. Yes, I suppose I am."
"Do you want to talk about it? Here, follow me. I can offer you a cup of tea and listening ear," the priest said, indicating an open door close to them. Regulus nodded and they both went inside.
Soon after he was holding a warm cup of tea, looking down into the liquid.
"How do you know if you've been doing the wrong thing, Father?" Regulus asked after a while.
The priest sipped his own tea and put the cup back down. "That's a good question, Reggie. Usually, my conscience will tell me so. Other times, I will pray for guidance from our Lord. Still other times, I will speak with a fellow priest, or with my Archdeacon or Bishop."
Regulus let it sink in for a bit. "And… if you realize you did?"
"Well, it all depends on what the wrong thing was, Reggie. If I hurt someone, I will apologize and try to make amends."
"Too late for that," Regulus mumbled.
"It's never too late, son. Even if you can't apologize to the person you wronged, you can still ask for forgiveness from God."
"Repent ye sinners, eh?" Regulus said. He meant it sarcastically, but even as he said it, he realized he wanted to repent.
"You don't have to tell me what you did, but if you feel this guilty, Reggie, maybe you should," the priest prompted.
"I… I am not religious, Father. But thank you. You helped me realize I can't go on like this," Regulus said.
"My pleasure, Reggie. And the offer stands. If you ever want to talk, I will always listen."
x-x-x
Regulus left the priest's warm home and slowly started to walk back towards home. "I don't know how, but I'll stop you, 'Dark Lord'," he vowed to himself. "Nobody will die because of me again."
As he neared the cul-de-sac his home was located on, he smiled a little. Perhaps, his brother would be proud of him again in the future.
