Chapter Ten
Anima

1978

"Locomotor Mortis!" Sirius yelled and Regulus's legs snapped together. As if that wasn't bad enough, Sirius laughed as he called out, "Colloshoo!" and Regulus's shoes stuck to the ground. The sudden displacement of his centre of gravity had the young Black heir tipping forward and crashing face first into the ground with a thud.

"Fucking blood-traitor!" Regulus screamed, words slightly muffled by the cold stone floor.

"That'll be ten points from Slytherin for swearing," Potter said with a laugh and Pettigrew giggled maniacally behind the pair as Regulus struggled to get up.

It had been over a year since Sirius had been blasted off the family tree and Regulus played his part as the hateful blood purist. Forced to provoke his own brother into duels every now and again to prove that he loathed Sirius — just to make sure no one else took the pleasure for themselves — often left Regulus bruised and bleeding. While the younger wizard was better at Transfiguration, Charms, and — forcibly — talented at using Unforgivables, Sirius was always the better dueler.

"Maybe we should turn his hair red and gold," Sirius was grinning at the thought. "Send him back to the dungeons sporting our colours."

Potter chuckled. "Do it."

Regulus sighed and tried to look like he was putting up a fight while internally wishing that he had been sorted into Gryffindor. Despite being the victim of their pranks, he couldn't fault the other wizards for enjoying their youth. While they played — generally harmless — jokes on their fellow students because it was funny, Regulus and Severus had already been sent out on three separate revels.

While Sirius was throwing Shrinking Spells at the skirts of the Ravenclaw witches, Regulus was forced to torture Muggles under the watchful eye of the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters who stood above him. Mentors, they were called, but everyone knew they were guards to make sure you did the job you were assigned. While Potter was jinxing the grass beneath the Pitch to always appear red and gold during games, Severus was forced to murder blood-traitors and Muggle-borns.

He wondered what the brave Gryffindors would say if they knew what their school rivals got up to during the hols.

"Back off, Black!" Severus said as he came around the corner, wand flicking toward Regulus, releasing his shoes from the ground allowing him to twist his body so he was finally looking up.

"Snivellus!" Sirius and Potter grinned at his appearance. "Long time no hex."

Regulus growled at his intruding friend. "I'm fine!"

"Quiet, Reggie," Sirius said with a smirk. "The grown wizards are talking. Care for an official duel Snivellus?" he asked, grinning wildly. "Wizard's honour that we'll play by the rules."

Severus sneered at the boys. "As though any of you have honour."

Potter clutched at his chest. "Ouch."

"Well, that was rude." Sirius pouted. "I don't think we're ready to be best friends yet, Snivelly."

Severus's body tensed up and Regulus could see the rage building up in his best friend. While Regulus always had Marlene to lean on after being forced to don his Death Eater mask, letting her wand heal his wounds and her love heal his soul, Severus was alone. That meant that he bottled up everything he felt inside himself only to unleash it upon unsuspecting victims, usually the ones he was ordered to kill which. But it had been far too long since his last release and too much was bottled up; Regulus could see that the other Slytherin was ready to burst.

Severus's wand was raised and he began to say, "Sectum —"

Oh, fuck that, Regulus thought and flicked his wand at his friend. "Langlock!"

Cut off mid-curse, Severus turned and glared at Regulus with bitter, hateful eyes.

"What on earth is going on here?!" came the shrieking voice of Evans, wearing her Head Girl badge with the same air of authority that McGonagall wore her robes. She stormed down the hallway and glared at Sirius and Potter. Regulus noted Lupin standing nearby, shaking his head in disappointment at his friends. "James! You're Head Boy! You're supposed to be better than this!"

"I told you that badge would go to his head," Marlene said as she appeared walking up from behind Lupin, ignoring Regulus completely as she glared at her Housemates.

Sirius grinned at her. "Hey, McKinnon. I've found you a pet snake," he said, gesturing to Regulus. "I seem to remember you used to like playing with them."

Regulus growled but Marlene laughed and rolled her eyes. "You wish, Sirius," she said and then looked down at Regulus. "And he really wishes."

Sirius frowned. "Aww, poor Reg. Never gets the girl."

Regulus smirked up at his big brother. "What makes you think I've never had her?" he asked, gesturing to Marlene who blushed red, her mouth falling open in feigned anger. "For all you know, I've had her repeatedly and she loved it." He sneered, watching as all humour left Sirius and Potter's eyes. Evans was practically glowing with rage. "In fact, I think I have had her plenty and she was delicious . . . weren't you McKinnon?"

Marlene scowled at him, lightly tugging on the string of pearls around her neck. "You're disgusting."

"And you're just upset that I got tired of fucking blood-traitors."

Two hours later Marlene sat on the edge of Regulus's bed in the dungeons, a stolen magical map sitting open on the mattress to make sure no one knew she was there. How Sirius and his friends ever found such a treasure, Regulus would never know, but they didn't exactly keep the thing locked up tight. He was tempted to keep it for himself, but Marlene refused. "Hold still," she said as she dabbed his split bottom lip with a towel. "Was it really necessary to go that far?"

Regulus hissed at the stinging pain from the cut. "Did I actually offend you?" he mumbled.

Marlene rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Yes, my poor damaged ego, how ever will I cope?" she said sarcastically. "You were trying to get Sirius to hit you, weren't you?" she asked curiously, raising a brow at him in that dangerous way that said he'd better not lie to her or else. He'd yet to find out exactly what "or else" entailed.

"A fifth year caught you slipping out of the dungeons last week," he told her. "I had to make it look like I was using you. It helps that Sirius has a hot temper when it comes to defending poor maidens like yourself and I know exactly how to push his buttons to make him snap," he said and laughed when she slapped his arm. "I'll look like a hero to my House and the other Death Eaters, my loyalties aren't called into question regarding you or my fist-wielding brother. The rest of the school thinks Sirius is honourable wizard defending women from the lecherous likes of Slytherins, you're just a pretty witch caught up in a mess of Black family drama. Everyone else will think I'm just an arsehole."

She stopped cleaning the cut on his lip and leaned forward to gently kiss him. "Don't you get tired of playing the bad guy?" she whispered.

Regulus frowned. "I'm not the bad guy," he said softly. "I'm doing what I can to keep the real bad guy from you."

She pressed her forehead against his and sighed. "After Hogwarts, can we run away?" she asked.

He smiled. "I would love nothing better than to run away with you." Regulus leaned forward and pressed his lips against her mouth, parting her lips with his tongue and tasting her. She whimpered and then moaned when his hand tickled its way up the inside of her thigh beneath her skirt.

She broke their kiss, giggling as he buried his face in her hair, nibbling on her earlobe as his fingers trailed along the edge of her knickers. "I thought you've grown tired of fucking blood-traitors?" she teased.

Regulus pushed her back against the mattress and situated himself between her thighs, bending forward to nip at her throat. "I'll never tire of you," he said, watching with great interest as her back arched and she gasped for breath. He'd never tire of that look on her face as he touched her with his hands. That expression only paled in comparison to the one she wore when he was inside of her.

Their first time, of course, had been an absolute disaster.

She'd been ridiculously shy when she had undressed, insisting that he not look at her while she did it. Regulus sneaked a peek every now and then but had been so paranoid about getting caught that he was glad he didn't need to fumble with the buttons of her blouse or the godsforsaken bra hooks, since his hands were shaking from nervous anticipation.

Instead of heated banter that they shared now — whispers of dirty words in the dark of the dungeons — they were comically inept in their first attempts at poetic sweet nothings, spoken in the heat of the moment.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"What? How the hell should I know? I've never done this before!"

"Well, neither have I! And don't yell at me!"

"I'm not yelling just . . . fuck . . . just lay still."

"Did you remember the Contraceptive Charm?"

"What?! You're not on the potion?!"

"Of course I'm not on the potion! Why would I need to be on the potion?!"

"Because we're having sex!"

"Not yet and with that attitude . . . "

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't leave. I know the charm, I swear."

"Is it supposed to tingle like that?"

"I think so. That means it's working . . . maybe."

"Maybe?"

" . . . "

" . . . "

"What's wrong, Marley?"

"It's just . . . you're naked."

"Well, I'm not an expert but that's generally how this works. I've read about it in books. They had diagrams."

"Prat. I just mean . . . oh, that feels good . . . you look . . . you look nice."

"You look sexy as hell."

"Poet. Is . . . is it in yet?"

" . . . "

"Reggie?"

"What do you mean is it in yet?! No, it's not in yet! You'll bloody know when it's in, I guarantee that!"

"Apologies to your poor ego."

"You don't have to be sarcastic about . . . oh fuck, oh that feels . . . Marley, are you okay?"

"I'm . . . I'm fine . . . Reggie, you can move. I'm okay. I love you."

"I love you."

Regulus pulled her knickers down her legs and threw them to the side of his bed where they landed in a small basket alongside a Quidditch magazine and some sweet wrappers. "I better get those back," Marlene whispered, threading her fingers through his hair as he brought his lips between her breasts, kissing the soft skin there. "You better not be collecting them like Sirius does."

Regulus chuckled and licked at her right nipple to distract her while he reached for the buckle of his trousers. "If I was keeping a collection, mine would be much less disgusting. I only have the one witch," he said, a smirk toying at the corner of his mouth.

"Prat," she giggled and then moaned when she could feel him. He leaned forward to kiss the breath out of her, grinning when she gasped against his lips like she did every single time. He committed the sound to memory; something to hold tight to when he would be summoned again by the Dark Lord.

Severus Snape Apparated into the backyard of the McKinnon summer home on a strangely cold night at the beginning of August. Marlene was insistent that she stay there to study ahead for her N.E.W.T.s even though her parents and older brother were eager for a trip to Greece. In reality, being alone with Regulus had been something she didn't want to pass up.

But this was not what she expected.

"Snape?" she called out into the darkness when she recognised a familiar head of black hair. "Snape where's . . . oh, Godric . . ." She rushed out the door and fell to the ground beside Regulus who was being held upward only by the fistful of robes that were clamped in Severus's hands. "What happened?!"

"He was punished," Severus said, releasing Regulus's robes which caused the boy to hit the ground none too gently. "There was a revel tonight. Only instead of Muggles, the Dark Lord had us going after . . . members of a certain society." Marlene looked away from him and Severus sneered at her. "Which you clearly already knew about. I assume you plan on joining the Order as well, once you've graduated?"

"I want to help," she whispered, running her wand over Regulus's body, casting Diagnostic Spells.

Severus snarled at her. "If you want to help, you'll stay hidden so he doesn't end up dead trying to save you! The Dark Lord wants the Order gone! Dumbledore's creating an army to fight him, and he's a fool to even try! They'll all be dead within a few years at this rate."

Marlene glared at him. "Are you going to kill Lily yourself?"

Severus looked like he was about to be sick. "She . . . Potter will take care of her now," he said, though the words were filled with doubt. "Something he'll be well prepared for now . . . now that he knows . . ."

"Knows what?" she asked.

Regulus coughed and struggled to sit up, tearing at his robes. "Get these . . . get 'em off!" he screamed. "I don't want them!"

"Oh, Merlin, he's burning up," Marlene said and stood, flicking her wand at Regulus to Bind him so he'd stop struggling, levitating him into the house and up the stairs to the bathroom. With Severus behind her, she began stripping Regulus's clothes, lowering him into the bathtub which she filled with cold water. "What happened to him?" she asked again.

"Potter's parents are dead," Severus said quietly. "We . . . we didn't know who . . . but Regulus, being the idiot that he is, openly refused to participate. You don't say no to the Dark Lord without being made an example. The others were set on him like a pack of wolves. Mostly Cruciatus, but . . . there were some Slicing Hexes as well."

She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes to remove the tears and she released the Body Bind on Regulus, allowing his body to relax against the water, hopefully removing the fever that had swept through him. "Reggie? Baby?"

Regulus slowly opened his eyes, blinking away his blurry vision. He glanced down, noticing his undressed state and he turned, his head lolling to the side as he stared up at the beautiful witch. "I know you like me out of my clothes, darling, but I really don't think I'm up for a shag just yet . . . give me ten minutes, maybe fifteen."

Marlene laughed and kissed his forehead, pulling him against her chest. Severus rolled his eyes. "Fix him up," he said. "But don't heal the scars. The Dark Lord will want proof that he was punished."

"Where are you going?" Marlene turned as Severus stepped out of the room.

"To receive my own punishment. I was only allowed to leave because he was bleeding everywhere. Carpets really are quite difficult to clean," he said bitterly, clearly repeating the words of another. "Hopefully they'll know the limits this time," he said and then left her sight.

"I'll be fine, love," Regulus insisted, shivering slightly as the cold water started feeling less and less comforting the lower his temperature became. Marlene kissed his forehead, cast another Diagnostic Spell, and then drained the water from the tub. "Marley . . ." he said and reached out for her hand. She pulled it away instantly, choking on a sob that tried to escape her throat. "Marley . . ."

"Don't!" she turned and yelled at him. "Reg . . . you were tortured tonight! People died at the hands of . . . of Death Eaters —"

"Like me."

She shook her head. "No. Real Death Eaters who think that you're one of them and —"

"I am one of them. Just because I don't agree doesn't mean I don't partici —"

"They tortured you and killed other people!" she sobbed. "Good people. James could be a prat sometimes, but his parents . . . gods . . . this is . . . this is —"

"War."

"We're kids! We're too young and I don't want you to die! I don't want you to go to war," she said, her voice breaking.

He sat up and wrapped shaking arms around her, small twitches remaining from the Cruciatus Curse. Regulus barely got a jostle from Bellatrix's wand and he dreaded to think of the recovery needed should the witch eventually snap and let her full power filter through the curse. "Love," he whispered. "I'm not going to die, and war was inevitable. You're my Helen, remember? The woman men gladly went to war for. Wasn't there some doting prince that whisked her away?"

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Paris, and he died in the war," she said sadly.

Regulus sighed loudly. "Pity. She devoted her life afterward to him though? Ever faithful and pure to the end?" he asked teasingly. He knew the stories, of course. Being named after the stars that held origins in ancient Greek and Roman mythology meant that long before he learned how to levitate feathers at Hogwarts, he knew the position of every star in the sky, their origin, and the variations of each and every story.

"No, she returned to Sparta with her husband, King Menelaus," Marlene whispered the words as Regulus stroked his fingers through her blond curls, twirling one around his finger.

Regulus smirked. "Ah, a king," he said. "That's much better than a prince, wouldn't you say?"

She scowled at her wizard. "When he took Helen back to Sparta, he threatened to kill her for leaving him but she was too beautiful so he lowered the sword," she said, a tone of indignation and righteousness that generally had a way of either annoying or endearing her to him.

"You won't leave me though," Regulus said, brushing a lock of hair from her face and kissing her gently. "Will you? You'll stay my queen forever."

Marlene snorted. "You're hardly a king . . . or a prince," she added before he had a chance to argue. "But yes," she said quietly. "I'll be with you until we're torn apart, which, as this is a war, is a very likely scenario."

Regulus ignored the theatrical way she liked to exaggerate and kissed her again. "There is nothing in the world I love as much as you." When she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest he sighed. "And . . . should we be torn apart, as you so delicately put it, we'll meet one another on some Fortunate Isle in the afterlife. Deal?"

August 20th, 1978

In the morning, I awoke in the arms of my Helen. The McKinnon summer home is beautiful and wonderful and filled with light. It's everything that Grimmauld Place isn't, and I'd like to throw up a Fidelius Charm, make the Secret-Keeper an elusive and immortal stray cat, trap Marlene inside of the home and never leave it again. Her bed — our bed until we return to Hogwarts — sits beneath a large circular window that faces the sunrise. When I wake in the morning, I watch the sun crest over the horizon, its rays reflecting against her skin. Her hair is the colour of honey and makes me think to write ridiculously sappy poetry that, would she happen upon it, she would tease me mercilessly for.

Has any man ever loved a woman more?

I hate myself for tainting her soul by looking at her, speaking to her, touching her. She's absolute perfection and purity when I watch the sunlight kiss across her sleeping face. Then she wakes, opens those beautiful blue eyes and curses my very existence for not greeting her with coffee. She sits up and turns her head to check the time so quickly that those honey-coloured curls fling into my face. It's an absolute safety hazard. I despise being woken in the middle of the night with a mouthful of that hair.

But when the day or night has been bad—and it can be so very bad—there's nothing in the world more peaceful than burying my face and fingers in those locks.

Today was a bad day. Hell, this year was a bad year. But today was a particularly new brand of fucking awful. Unknown to Severus and I, Sirius and his band of mourning misfits were at the Leaky. Stray charms and jinxes that used to happen at Hogwarts turned to Slicing Hexes and particularly cruel — but not Unforgivable — curses when we walked into the establishment looking for lunch and found Potter grieving the deaths of his parents. Deaths we were still suffering for because we chose not to participate. We didn't stop them either, and sometimes I think I'm damned for the lives I ignored more so than the ones I've been forced to take.

I stupidly approached them, glad that Lupin was in his right mind and received me with a pleasant welcome, insisting that we were adults now, all of age and everyone but myself out of Hogwarts. For a split second, I thought that perhaps I could just be done with the fake personality I've been forced into these past few years. Maybe I could reach out to my brother, the Order, ask for help. Gods, it would destroy my pride entirely, but I don't think I can watch Marlene heal my wounds if I ever have the nerve to take another stand. What if next time I'm not punished for my own transgressions. What if he punishes someone else and makes me watch?

I offered condolences to Potter and, though he didn't say a word, even Severus nodded in the man's general direction, likely trying to ignore the questions as to whether or not he had cried himself to sleep in Evans's arms when his parents were reported deceased. It took encouragement from Lupin, but Sirius shook my hand and . . . fuck, if I didn't almost cry. He'd be a liar if he said he wasn't tempted to as well. I saw his eyes go a bit glassy. He misses me too. Missed me. Past tense. As a show of camaraderie I took Potter and Lupin's hands — not in friendship; truce? — and everything seemed like it could go well for once. Then . . . that fucking idiot Pettigrew stood up, wiped his greasy hands on his jumper, and smiled at me like old mates, extended his hand and slipped, gripping the sleeve of my robe in the process, tearing it open and revealing my Dark Mark.

Fuck.

There's nothing to be done about it now. I have no brother. I had one once but I'm fairly positive I've broken his heart. I'm now the beast, the villain, the monster that stole his brother away from him and he's likely to take vengeance upon me if given the chance. Can't blame him. He's reacting to a piece of the puzzle without knowing everything. I wonder if we — Death Eaters — are doing the same. Lucius very likely is. Kept in his gilded cage and raised in the image of his father. Bellatrix just enjoys the chaos. She'd likely fight for whichever side allowed her to do the most damage. It doesn't matter though. Death Eaters, Order members, we're all killers and manipulators and going to die in the end of all of this. There's no hope here. All this and I still have to go back to Hogwarts, sit in classes and pretend like I'm not a soldier on the wrong side of a war.

So I'll bury my sins and my secrets in these diaries, bury my nose and my fingers in Marlene's hair, and pray that one day I never come out of it. Which is likely, because I'm fairly certain that unruly mane will one day choke me in my sleep.

What a way to go.