Enthusia
When Regulus first saw her he didn't realise there was something strange about her.
A little girl in a busy street wasn't uncommon after all, even if there seemed to be no parents with her. And it was a very important day for Regulus – his father had taken him out for his birthday; he was finally of age.
As the heir of the Black family – since his own brother had so foolishly rejected that honour – he deserved only the best. His father had promised him something special for his birthday.
"Ah, Mr Black! And your son is with you today, my, he´s grown since he was here the last time! How may I serve you?"
Then Regulus spotted the little girl pressing her nose against the window of the shop. She breathed against the glass and drew a smiling face.
"You're of age already! Well, a fine young lad you are." Regulus turned back to the shopkeeper and noticed the small object in his hands.
"So, you just put it around your neck and no one can track the magic back to you. Very useful things, I sold a lot of them recently."
After a small nod from his father Regulus put the necklace around his head. At first nothing happened, then a soft tingling feeling spread through his body. The owner of the shop nodded approvingly. "That´s it. Now, as long as you wear it, your magic won't be detected."
He winked at Regulus. "Make good use of it, lad. I know for what you young ones use it, and all I can say is if the Ministry doesn't see it´s for the best of us all... I'll sleep better when those Muggles are taken care of, believe me."
# # #
Rodolphus told him about the Muggle hunt. They were sitting in one of the shadier pubs in Knockturn Alley, where you needn't be careful with your opinions. Rodolphus and his friends had caught some Muggles and let them escape again. Telling them they would let them live if they survived till dawn.
Two Muggles had scraped through, barely, and so they had kept their word and let them live. Without memories of course. And with a few hexes. The Muggle authorities hadn't known what to do with two lunatics, who hadn't a clue who they were. One of them belching slugs from time to time, while the other sprouted wriggling tentacles all over his body.
It sounded exciting and adventurous and fun.
Only when he left the pub to go home did Regulus notice the young girl, too young to be in a pub on her own, really. He wondered where he had seen her before, then shrugged and headed out into the rain.
# # #
Tonight would be the night. Regulus stood at the window of his bedroom and watched the people on the street outside. In truth, he didn't see much of them, but it was a nice pretence. Tonight he would go with Barty and some other friends on his first 'Muggle hunt'. Or something similar. At least he would be finally with them, part of the group.
How it would feel? Killing a Muggle? He had been hunting with his father a few times. Would it be the same? His first killed Muggle. At last he would be able to do something. To prove his worth. No longer ickle Regulus. He was fighting for his principles.
The young woman on the street smiled up to him. She was pretty, in a cheerful way. She waved. Regulus suddenly realised what was wrong. She should not be able to see this house, much less him inside it! He hastily stepped back from the window.
She wasn't there anymore after he had convinced himself that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Probably just nervousness. It was his first night out with them after all.
# # #
This was definitely crazy. Regulus did not dare stare at her. In the presence of the Dark Lord you paid attention to him, and only him. But he was sure he had seen a woman outside the circle of Death Eaters that surrounded him. A woman that seemed familiar. Which was absolutely crazy, since there were very few woman among the Death Eaters, and he knew them, and she wasn't one of them. And anyway, she would have to wear a mask like everyone else.
Pain ripped through Regulus' body, originating from his left arm. The Dark Lord had marked him. Finally he was one of them. And he had missed it! Missed the speech of the Dark Lord, and the ceremony, and the spell for the Dark Mark.
What would the Dark Lord think of him! Letting his mind wander like that on such an important moment. Regulus winced on the floor and swore he would serve his master better in future.
Soft fingers stroked over his face and through his hair, and Regulus did not dare to open his eyes. Nevertheless he knew she was smiling benignly down at him. He shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the coldness of the stone floor.
# # #
There she was again. Once he had mentioned her to Barty, had pointed out the woman in the shadows of the street. Barty had looked at him like he was mad. There was no woman in the shadows. They had searched the whole street before they entered the Muggle house. Fortunately the raid had begun shortly afterwards and Barty, eager to begin the fun, had forgotten about Regulus question.
He wished he could forget about her too. It wasn't possible. Not when she seemed to follow him everywhere since he got the Dark Mark. Everywhere. He had nearly cut his throat when she appeared in the mirror while he shaved.
She was beautiful. She always smiled.
Red sparks shot up – the signal. Time to enter the house of the Auror's family. It had to be done – and why didn't those idiots at the Ministry understand that they were doing the right thing? If the Aurors were that stubborn and opposed them it was their own fault, really.
He brushed past the woman on his way into the house and for the first time noticed the fine wrinkles around her eyes.
# # #
Regulus dragged himself into his family's house. Holding tightly to the walls he managed to reach the bathroom and sank to the floor near the toilet. The small box with healing potions stood on the shelf. It could as well have stood on the moon for he was in no state to get up again.
He wished the woman would take the box and give it to him, but he had never seen her touch anything, apart from the occasional stroke over his face that is. Like he had guessed, she didn't help him. She seemed tired that night, and her smile lacked the usual brilliance. It made him feel even worse than he already did.
He had disappointed his master. It didn't matter that the mission had been unaccomplishable in the first place. Nevertheless Regulus had tried, he had done everything he could - and some things he hadn't known he could – but it just wasn't enough. He had failed his master; he deserved any punishment the Dark Lord deemed necessary. But he hoped he would have some time to recover before he was called again.
# # #
The Muggle screamed. Bellatrix and her newly wed husband laughed. Regulus managed not to sigh. He simply could not bring himself to enjoy it anymore. It was always the same, always the same old ritual... There were many ways to torture someone –and his cousin Bellatrix knew them all, apparently –but really, what was the point? In the end they screamed, and then they died. He could not understand why he had been so excited once about going on a Muggle hunt.
Regulus tried to look around without attracting attention. It wasn't a good idea to appear disinterested in the evening's activities. Where could she be? There were times recently when she wasn't there. It disturbed him, more than he cared to admit. He had gotten used to her.
He nearly gasped as he discovered her. She was old –when had she gotten that old? She had been his mother's age the last time he remembered seeing her –and more translucent then ever. He could not take his eyes away from her.
A last, high scream drew his attention. Then the Muggle was finally dead. Regulus hid his disgust. When he turned back to the woman she was leaning on a walking stick.
# # #
He had decided on a direct approach. No use in beating around the bush.
"Who are you?"
She seemed surprised that he had talked to her. Come to think of it, it was surprising that it had taken him so long to ask her that question. He had always assumed she wouldn't answer him.
"Don´t you know that already?"
He should have known. Answer a question with another question. Well, two could play that game.
"How should I?"
She only shook her head, her old eyes wise and a bit watery. With an effort she stood straighter but was nevertheless much smaller than him, like many old people whose bodies seemed to shrink at the end of their lives.
But she wasn't that old.
"What is happening with you?"
"You already know that too."
It was the last thing she said to him.
# # #
Regulus stood paralysed. The little girl –it was so much like her. Like she had been the first time he had seen her. How little time had passed since, and how much had happened. How much had changed. How much he had changed.
He had to do it. He wouldn't survive the night if he didn't do it. And even if he sacrificed his own life it wouldn't help the little girl. Someone else would take his place and do his job and it would make no difference for her.
"Avada Kedavra"
Regulus felt something inside him break. She wasn't just a Muggle. Her hair had another colour than her hair had had – of course now it was all grey anyway – and her face was different too. But she had the same nose – he could imagine her pressing it against a window- and those shining eyes, and the same smile.
Only that she didn't smile anymore, and never again would. Nor press her nose against a window and draw in the condensation. And her eyes only reflected the light from the street lamps.
That night Regulus cried for the little girl. The old woman did not come to his side, or stroke his face. He did not see her again. With his first tear Enthusia had died.
So did soon later Regulus.
# # #