Chapter 69: You Don't Know The Half Of The Abuse
For several moments, Regulus simply hugged his cousin close while gazing over her shoulder at Rodolphus and Rabastan. The two gazed back, Rodolphus giving him a small grin as he nodded in greeting.
"I assume you were behind the Ministry hiring us to work Shadow Ops? Thanks, Man."
Regulus nodded, grinning back. "Really, it's the least I could do even if it is all I could do," he said honestly. As he spoke, he noted how painfully thin Bellatrix felt against him. Still, she was alive and safe and that knowledge felt wonderful. "Bella...It's so good to see you...to see all of you," he said, then gave her a final squeeze and stepped back. "Can we sit down and catch up?"
"Of course," Corvus said, giving him a warm smile. "Thank you for keeping them out of Azkaban, Regulus. I don't know how you did it, but I'm impressed and eternally grateful."
Regulus smiled at the elder Lestrange. "I'm glad to explain while we catch up."
"Good, because I'm eager to know," Corvus said. "Let us have a celebratory drink in the library, shall we?" He led the way and everyone else followed.
"A drink sounds amazing, Dad," Rabastan enthused. "We dared not risk having a drink at the Malfoy's with old Snake Face pissily looking over our shoulders at every moment, searching for some wee infraction." Regulus blinked, exchanging a quick look with Kreacher. Rabastan didn't speak of Voldemort nearly as reverently as one might expect, all things considered.
"You no longer wished to serve Voldemort," he asked and Rabastan shrugged.
"Now that's a bit of a complicated question and I really need that drink."
"Coming right up," Corvus said as they entered the library. Bellatrix and Rodolphus settled themselves on one end of a long sofa. Kreacher and Regulus took the other end. Rabastan flopped down into an arm chair across from the sofa while Corvus moved to the liquor cabinet in the far right corner of the room. Like any good library the place smelled delightfully of old books and Regulus breathed in in pleasure as he settled back into the cushions of the sofa.
"Regi, where the fuck have you been," Bellatrix burst out. "You little git, we thought you were dead!" Though she glared daggers at him, her voice cracked on the last few words, indicating that she was as upset as she was angry. "What the hell were we going to say to your mum? It was insane after you were gone! Sorry about her passing by the way. We only found out once we escaped Azkaban two years back."
Regulus remained silent, listening to Bellatrix speak, allowing her to vent. He hadn't considered how it was with them to interact with his mum after his and Orion's disappearance. When she spoke of Walburga, her expression showed honest sincere sorrow, which he appreciated.
"I had to flee for my own safety," he began. "I attempted to write Kreacher with news. I wrote multiple times and he never received any of the letters. I have no idea why." He reached up a hand to touch the black phoenix who, as usual, sat quietly on his shoulder. "Mortis was even kind enough to attempt to deliver the letter and he could not find my family's manor." The bird nodded his elegant regal head, giving a clear musical trill of confirmation.
"Is that a Death Phoenix," Corvus Lestrange asked, tone full of awe as his pouring hand paused with the bottle of fire whisky poised over a glass.
Regulus nodded. "Indeed it is, Sir."
"Impressive," Corvus murmured, continuing to pour once again. "How did you manage to land yourself one of those?"
Rabastan snickered. "Sounds as if you're speaking of a wife rather than a bird, Dad!"
Corvus chuckled. "In some ways, the Death Phoenix is a better catch," he told Rabastan.
Regulus grinned. "Certainly less bother," he said, regarding Corvus thoughtfully.
The elder Lestrange had aged well, features still toned and proudly aristocratic rather than drawn or sagging. He wasn't as thin as Rabastan or as bulky as Rodolphus. He held himself with an easy assurance as he headed toward the seated group with full glasses of fire whisky floating in front of him. "Everyone grab one. They're all the same," he invited, then took a sip from the glass he held as he settled himself into a chair beside Rabastan.
Regulus took the glass that was obviously intended for him and passed it to Kreacher. The elf blinked once in confusion, then looked around for somewhere to sit the glass down. "You might as well have a drink. The conversation may not be an easy one and you might wish for some fortification," Regulus told him quietly. Kreacher gave a slight cringe as if not looking forward to said conversation, and who could blame him. Nodding slightly he took a deep gulp from the glass then coughed at the strength of the drink.
Corvus gave the two a slight perplexed frown of confusion. "Do you not drink these days, Regulus?"
Regulus hesitated long enough to feel all the Lestranges turning curious glances on him. "Well...not in the same way...You see, to escape death at The Dark...at Voldemort's hands, I had to...um..." This was harder than he'd expected. Telling friends who probably didn't give two sods for his bloodlines wasn't at all the same as sharing with his family who most certainly did.
Bellatrix scowled impatiently. "What is it, Regi?"
Regulus sighed, knowing that this wasn't the time to insist, for the millionth time that she bloody stop calling him Regi. "I...I became a vampire when I left in nineteen-seventy-nine," he concluded, forcing the words out. He felt Kreacher inching closer to him on the sofa in support, and without looking, he heard the elf taking another swallow from the glass in his hand.
"Kreacher plans to do the same eventually in order to be with Master Regulus forever," the elf proclaimed, obviously making this announcement now of all times as an act of solidarity for whatever reaction may follow.
"This supposed to be some kind of joke," Rodolphus asked, grinning slightly in preparation for said joke to be revealed.
Regulus shook his head. "I am afraid not. But being a vampire has its perks, and I haven't lost anything but the ability to bask in the sunlight, a thing I rarely miss as it turns out."
"Yeah, you were never really a morning person," Bellatrix drawled. As she spoke, she regarded Regulus thoughtfully, as if truly seeing him for the first time. "You never did explain how you still look so bloody young but I understand now. A pity it's not some sort of anti aging cream that the rest of us can get our hands on," she complained with a frown.
Regulus chuckled in spite of himself. "Sorry to disappoint."
"So what's it like," Rabastan asked, mild horror warring with curiosity on his thin face as he leaned forward slightly toward Regulus in his chair.
"Well," Regulus began thoughtfully. "I am faster and stronger than mortals and I can read and control minds without the direct use of magic."
"How? Wait are you controlling our minds right now," Rabastan asked suspiciously.
"Of course not. What would I have you do that you aren't already doing?"
Rabastan frowned. "Well are you planning to control our minds," he persisted.
"If I were, why would I tell you," Regulus laughed at the same time as Bellatrix told her brother-in-law not to be stupid. "I would never tamper with the minds of friends or family...Or anyone really if I don't need to," Regulus said with a slight sigh. "If I couldn't do so in general, though, you would be reacquainting yourselves with Azkaban right now."
"Ah! So that's how you did that," Rodolphus said, openly intrigued.
Regulus nodded.
"It won't wear off will it," Bellatrix asked. "The head Auror won't suddenly change his mind and put us back in that hell trap, will he?" The panic in Bellatrix's suddenly haunted eyes was more than understandable even if it tore at Regulus's heart to see. He hated the fact the Lestranges had suffered in that place for so long for any reason, and knowing that he was at least partially responsible for the reason made it even worse. He shook his head. "No. It doesn't work like that," he gently reassured.
"So we're home free for sure, then," Rabastan asked pensively. The edgy, nervous look in the younger Lestrange's eyes was new, but considering all he'd gone through, it was warranted, Regulus supposed.
He nodded. "Just don't do anything to expose yourselves to the general public, follow the Ministry's rules for Shadow Ops, generally behave with reasonable caution as if you are hiding in plain sight...because you are."
"Well, of course," Bellatrix agreed. "We aren't planning to look up old friends in Knockturn Alley and throw a literally coming out of Azkaban party or anything."
"Mostly because we have no friends, but still," Rodolphus quipped with a grin, throwing an arm around his wife's shoulders.
"How was it with you during these past two years," Regulus asked. "Your comments about The Dark Lord...Voldemort," he corrected himself, "did not seem as fond as one might expect. Not that I'm judging, of course."
The three Lestranges exchanged a tense, uncomfortable glance.
"He was just increasingly unkind to a perplexing degree," Bellatrix said at last.
Regulus knew precisely why Voldemort had been unkind to the Lestranges, but it was clear that they still did not remember trying to kill him.
"Well...He wasn't who we all believed him to be," he said carefully.
"What do you mean," Rodolphus asked, leaning forward in interest, his arm still around Bellatrix's shoulders.
"It turns out he was using some rather dark magic...Dark arts that make us all look like innocent babes," Regulus said.
"What the hell could be that dark," Rabastan asked skeptically.
Regulus's lips twisted into a dry ironic smile as Kreacher took another fortifying drink from his glass. "Try seven horcruxes for a start."
Corvus set his own glass down on the small round table at his side with a hard thump.
"Something tells me that you aren't joking, so I shan't bother to ask," he said dryly and Regulus nodded. He then shared Kreacher's experience with Voldemort and watched in dismay as every single Lestrange looked shocked as if hearing the entire story anew. It seemed they did not recall anything at all about their experience with The Dark Lord. They appeared to have forgotten it all and not just that final night. Whatever he had done to their minds went disturbingly deep, Regulus thought with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Exchanging a look with Kreacher, he saw open unease in the elf's expressive eyes to match his own.