Chapter 2: Chapter 1: July 1977 - September 1977
Summary:
How Regulus enters his *reputation era*
Notes:
Hello!! Firstly just wanted to say thanks heaps for your response to the prologue, its so exciting and rewarding for me to see the comments, so feel free to keep them coming.
I hope you're not disappointed with this chapter, a lot of your comments were very "yay, dark Regulus, no morals Regulus" and now I'm just giving you sad boi poetry and trauma, but this chapter is basically how he goes from Regulus to THE REGULUS BLACK; I'm sure you'll enjoy the ending though :)))
Good news though, chapter 2 is being written and its already 4,500 words and I've still got more to go so the chapters should get longer from here on in. Also if you see the chapter count is tentatively posted, I've planned out how I want this fic to go and if I pull it off right it's going to be THE FIC OF THE CENTURY (I hope), so stay excited and I'll stay writing. The odd chapters (I specify it in the chapter name) are the pre-prologue chapters and the even chapters will be the post-prologue chapters.
The next chapter is the aftermath of Reggies return and continues where the prologue left off and THAT is the Regulus you've been waiting for.
Also I just want to note that this fic has dark themes. The concepts of death, suicidal thoughts and torture are explored heavily and will be explicitly described at points so if this could be triggering for any reason then this probably not the fic for you.
For those who do choose to read this though, I hope you enjoy, hoping to have the next update up by Friday xx
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
July 1977
Regulus takes the Dark Mark exactly one year after Sirius runs away in a crude mockery of a celebration.
He's just turned sixteen, the youngest ever Death Eater; most others have to wait until they've graduated. It should be an honour, but instead, he feels dirty, tainted and cursed.
He feels like a true Black.
His parents are finally proud of him. Regulus has gotten almost straight O's throughout his entire Hogwarts career, laughed at their jokes, learnt the languages they ordered and ignored the people they wouldn't want him to associate with, but it was never enough. He was always too meek unlike Sirius, too quiet unlike Sirius, too much of an introvert unlike Sirius, so even though he never gave up, he had mostly come to terms with the fact that he would never be enough for his parents.
Who would've guessed that all he had needed was an ugly tattoo.
He's not proud of himself, he wishes he could undo it all, but at the end of the day, it was always going to be him. His parents need an heir and have a choice out of the two of them, but Sirius would have preferred to die than take it.
Sirius is full of life; he has his life to live; However, Regulus has nothing to live for, so he takes the mark, pleases his parents, and simply survives.
"You should be so proud of yourself," everybody says.
Regulus just smiles politely and tries not to throw up.
He wanted to be a writer. He has journals upon journals of book ideas and poetry. He was seven years old when he wrote his first poem. It wasn't very good, awful really and he had rhymed chocolate with coffee pot, but he had recited it to Sirius who had applauded loudly, and Regulus had felt invincible.
The first poem he ever wrote was about his toy rabbit.
Ever since Sirius left, the themes have gotten progressively darker.
School is awful. Regulus has just finished fifth year where Slytherin is a breeding ground for Death Eaters. He has a free ticket into the Dark Lord's inner circle; he's heir to the most powerful house in wizarding Britain, if not the entire wizarding world. There's no reason why the Dark Lord wouldn't take him and no way that his parents would let him live if he declined the offer.
They wouldn't kill him; they're not merciful people. They'd just imperio him and make him their little puppet who follows all of their stupid rules and does everything they say.
Regulus ignores the voice in his head that says there wouldn't be much difference in how he acts now, and he ignores how the voice sounds a lot like Sirius.
Speaking of his brother or ex-brother really, they don't talk. Sirius had tried on the first day they saw each other again after he ran away, the first day of his sixth year, Regulus' fifth.
"Hey Reggie," he had said casually, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. Like he hadn't just abandoned him.
"I fucking hate you," Regulus had replied, and that was that.
From brothers to strangers in two simple sentences.
It's for the best , Regulus had told himself. He should live his life without you holding him back and dragging him back into the house he escaped from. It's for the best. This was easy to believe until he was in the privacy of his dorm, and he cried himself to sleep.
Regulus hates people and prefers to spend his time in the secluded corner of the library or in the dorm. Barty and Evan are generally there, given they're his dormmates, and Pandora comes and joins him in the library where they study in silence, but they're the only exceptions.
Everybody else is a fucking nuisance.
The Gryffindors spend the whole time hating the Slytherins and discussing the war. They're all going to join Dumbledore and defeat Voldemort like the morally righteous pricks they are. He knows his brother is joining them too because he'd given him a pointed look as he said it as if to say do you see what I'm doing? I'm nothing like our family. I'm nothing like you.
The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are generally quiet enough, but they exist, which annoys Regulus anyways.
And then there's the Slytherins. Oh my fucking god.
There are only three Slytherin boys in his year. He, Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Junior and they've been best friends since the first day of their first year. They've never had a problem that couldn't be resolved.
If Regulus yells at Evan, he yells straight back and curses him for good measure, and if he yells at Barty then they inevitably end up snogging away their frustrations. It's not love or anything; it's simply just hormones and convenience, and if the feelings were to go any further than that, then they both know to just push it down and deny it. They know it can't go anywhere, Regulus is the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and he's had his wife picked out for him since he was nine. It's barely legal to be gay in Wizarding Britain anyways.
Barty's father, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was part of the team who voted against it, and Regulus and Evan agree that that's the only reason Barty hasn't publicly come out yet. Barty doesn't really care about anything except ruining his father's reputation, and learning that his wayward son is homosexual would only increase the ratings of the bigots who support him, and Barty won't allow that.
It's ironic, really; his parents' approval is the one thing Regulus craves desperately, but opposites attract and all, he supposes.
That's the only good part about being in Slytherin; his dorm mates. The other Slytherins in Sirius' year and the year above him make Regulus consider murder, genuinely and truly.
Mulciber is the ringleader of the wannabe Death Eaters at Hogwarts; everybody knows his dad is one, but nobody is reckless enough to say it to his face. Avery is his second in command which mostly means he curses anybody that Mulciber orders him to, and then in their little gang are Nott, Travers, Crabbe and Snape.
If all they did was exist and leave him alone, Regulus wouldn't care. This is a common theme with a lot of things; if they leave him alone, they can do what they want.
But they're not leaving him alone.
They don't want to be his friends which is definitely a two-way sentiment; they just want him to recommend them to the Dark Lord. They're jealous of him, he knows this, and he enjoys rubbing it in their faces from time to time, but when they try and sit with him in the library, keep pestering him for information about what the Dark Lord is like and what might make him consider their recruitment and if he has any dark curses that he recommends they practice, it's a fucking nightmare.
They're sneaking out almost nightly, torturing muggles, burning down homes, defacing entire villages in an endeavour to win the Dark Lord's approval, and every time they ask Regulus to come; it's almost like a routine.
"Black, you coming with us tonight?"
"Fuck off, Mulciber."
Sometimes though, when everything gets too much and Regulus feels as though he's going to crack under the pressure of being a Death Eater, being the heir, being a Slytherin during a war, he takes his warded journal from the warded compartment in his warded trunk and writes in an effort to try and distance himself from his god-awful reality. It never works for long, but it's something to ground himself and try to come to terms with his decision to be a martyr.
My parents can have me , he thinks. My parents can have all of me if it means they leave Sirius alone.
His freedom in exchange for Sirius', it's a fair deal. (It's a shit deal, but his life is the only bargaining piece of value he has).
So take me , he thinks, have me.
I hope you kill me in the process.
Regulus' journal: 14th April 1977
I wish I was a star.
Nobody ever resents the stars; they can do no wrong.
A star is bright, pretty, noteworthy.
They guide us on our journey and tell the stories of others.
It cannot be captured nor controlled.
A star is free.
A star is an object.
They are taken for granted, never missed until they're gone but never celebrated when they return.
They are an expectation; the sky will have stars.
Stars exist for others, never for themselves.
Nobody listens to see if stars speak or laugh or cry.
A star does not have choices; it simply exists until it dies.
I am a star.
Regulus' current poem he's writing is about his first kill.
He's not an official Death Eater yet, you have to be of age to be initiated, but he's got the mark.
Privileges of being a Black, he supposes.
Some fucking privilege.
Now, he's out in some small town near Manchester where Bella is teaching him the unforgivables.
"The screams they make are so entertaining, just you wait and see," she tells him cheerfully, her smile slightly unhinged.
Regulus wonders if that's why his parents had kept it on him for so long after Sirius had left. Entertainment.
There's an entire muggle family; two parents and two children, but the children are already dead. Bella had tortured them until they'd stopped moving, and then she'd imperioed the mother to kill them while the father watched. It was supremely fucked up, but Bella had simply laughed, killing the mother with a quick avada kedavra and then looking at Regulus in her manic, deranged way.
"Your turn, little Reggie; you get to use all three on this piece of vermin over here. Get to it."
There's a muggle saying, like a deer in the headlights, which Regulus had always found funny. It's two worlds colliding, muggles and animals, almost literally colliding as the car keeps driving and either hits it or swerves and he's always wondered where the saying came from and what the deer would feel like.
He thinks he knows now.
He is the deer, and the headlights, ironically, represent the dark side of the war coming closer and closer and closer. And he's frozen, wide-eyed and afraid. It's not what he'd wanted, not what he'd planned for, but it's happening anyways.
He doesn't know who's driving the car. Maybe it's the Dark Lord, maybe it's his parents, maybe it's no one at all, but it's coming closer and closer and closer.
And Regulus is frozen.
He can't move, can't stop it, can't change it.
He's left it too late.
The headlights are coming closer.
And closer.
And closer.
All he can do is brace for the impact and hope he survives.
He doesn't look the man in the eye, even though he can feel him looking at him. Imperius first, he thinks desperately. That won't hurt him.
It's his first unforgivable, this is proper dark magic, but it's him or Sirius.
There's no going back.
So, avoiding all eye contact, Regulus takes a deep breath in and says, "imperio."
The man had been crying, straining against his bonds, begging, pleading for them to stop, have mercy, save his children and hurt him instead, but now he's quiet. His eyes are blank and glazed over, a puppet with his strings attached to Regulus' wand and Regulus sees his own family reflected in the one below him. Two parents, two children.
He wonders if his parents would have pleaded for his life and begged for mercy or if they would've let it happen and said thank you.
Sirius wouldn't have let it happen, his mind helpfully supplies. Sirius would have died before he let somebody hurt you.
Regulus represses this thought the best he can and deliberately ignores the past tense.
"Stand up," he says shakily. The man does. He does it slowly, not as quickly as he would have if Bella had cast it, but he does it. "Sit down." The man does, and then Regulus cancels the spell, breathing heavily.
He wouldn't say Bella's impressed, but she's not disappointed, so he counts it as a win, not that anything about this situation is close to winning at all.
"We'll have to work on that, Reggie, but at least he did what you said. Boring though, you should have made him rip his own arm off," and Regulus and the muggle both shoot incredulous and horrified looks at her, but she is unperturbed, simply grinning at the thought of it as she says, "you know what's next."
The cruciatus curse.
He knows what it feels like, he knows what to say and what the wand movement looks like, but he's never been at this end of it.
He doesn't want to do it.
He doesn't think he can do it.
He doesn't want to find out.
He's not refusing per se, just hesitating, stalling, waiting for an escape of literally any kind when Bella sighs. "Tut, tut, I suppose you need another demonstration," and then Regulus is left wondering why the man's screaming sounds so different from before until he realises it's his own.
Fucking Bella.
It doesn't last long, 10 seconds maximum, but it still hurts. Especially hers; it really fucking hurts. He spits the blood out of his mouth where he'd bitten his tongue and stands back up, shaking, looking at the muggle.
He doesn't want to do it.
He can't do it.
He has to do it.
He raises his wand.
"Crucio."
Nothing happens.
"Crucio. Crucio. Crucio."
It's still not working, but he can't not do the spell. The fifth time he tries and fails, Bella's wand is on him again.
"You have to mean it, little Reggie. We're not getting out of here until you've done it."
Regulus tries to focus. He thinks of his parents who he's trying to make proud, and he thinks of his future, how this is going to be his new normal. He thinks of Sirius, who had no problems betraying him and tries to focus on the anger instead of the hurt. He occludes everything away, every emotion, every last thought, until only his anger remains.
Then, looking at the man but still avoiding eye contact, he casts the spell.
It works this time, the man twitches violently, and Regulus remains unphased when he hears a bone crack. The moment he starts screaming though, he's transported back to the drawing room where Sirius got tortured, and his occlumency shields weaken as he jolts his hand back and cancels the spell.
He feels sick.
"You'll get used to it eventually," Bella says, patting his shoulder in mock consolation, and Regulus doesn't comment that this only makes him feel worse.
The nausea only increases as Bella voices the thought spinning through in his mind. "You know what's next little Reggie, it's time to end this filth. The only demonstration you'll get now is if I do it on you."
Do it, Regulus thinks. I'm begging you to do it.
He looks at the man who is looking back at him, but he doesn't look scared. He's calm, and he smiles as he looks Regulus in the eye and nods. It's okay, the nod means. You can do it, It's okay.
I'm sorry, Regulus hopes he communicates with his eyes. Then he looks away, focuses on the long fingernails digging into his shoulder and croaks out, "avada kedavra."
The green light hits his target, and the man slumps backwards into the wall.
Any remaining occlumency shields fall, and Regulus can't control himself as he throws up violently, but Bellatrix just laughs, patting his shoulder in faux sympathy and saying, "there we go little Reggie, we'll make a Death Eater out of you yet."
Regulus just dry heaves in response, his mind fixed on the muggle.
He had been kind. He had looked him in the eyes, knowing he was about to die, and he had smiled at him. Maybe he was waiting to join his family again, but it still doesn't make sense. Muggles weren't supposed to be kind; they were supposed to be out of control and dangerous and a threat to the safety of the wizarding world. It doesn't make sense, but he's not stupid enough to voice his concerns to Bella, instead he simply follows her down the hallway and through the front door where she sets the house on fire.
Before he exits the house, he sees an envelope on the side table.
Mr Steven Copperfield and family,
14 Ainsley Court
Prestwich
United Kingdom
As the war continues, even after his kill count tops 10, then 50, then 100 and all the dead eyes and corpses blur into one, Regulus never forgets that name.
Later, much later, he's lying on his bed, eyes red-rimmed with crying, and he's wondering how he can get out of this mess. As much as he may be tempted, Sirius has another three months until he's 17 and away from their parent's control, and their parents need an heir, so killing himself isn't an option. He's got to hold out until at least November 3rd when Sirius is 17, and there's no way that their parents can drag him back. Maybe it can be a Christmas present to himself instead.
They need an heir, they'll do anything to get an heir who will take the Dark Mark, but Sirius never would. He'd rather die. He would choose to die, but Regulus can survive this.
He doesn't want this, he doesn't want any of it, but he doesn't know how to get out of this hole that's already been dug.
It isn't until he returns to school for his sixth year at the welcoming feast that he realises his other choice. Dumbledore. He's the head of the side of the light, the most powerful wizard in Britain. He can help him.
He goes to his office the same evening, the gargoyles opening the staircase instantly like they were waiting for him. Dumbledore is sitting behind his desk, and if he's surprised to see a Slytherin come to his office for a casual visit rather than a disciplinary meeting, he doesn't show it.
"Good evening, Mr Black, have a seat." And then, "lemon drop?"
"No thank you, Professor", Regulus replies.
There's an awkward pause before Dumbledore speaks again. "What can I do for you, dear boy?"
Regulus takes a deep breath, swallows his pride and says, "I'm hoping you can help me, Professor."
Dumbledore instantly looks intrigued, even as he tries to hide it, but Regulus knows what he's thinking. What could the heir to the Black family, the darkest in all of Britain want from someone like him? All he answers with though, is "and what might that be with, Mr Black?"
"My parents want me to become a Death Eater, Sir," Regulus says carefully, avoiding the fact that he already has the mark. He's sure Dumbledore can read between the lines that what his parents want, his parents will get, so if he's not currently one, he will be before he graduates.
"I see," Dumbledore replies. "And you do not want this?"
Obviously not or I wouldn't be here, Regulus thinks derisively.
"No Professor, I don't, but I don't know what I can do. Sirius has left, and it won't be easy for me to do the same because my parents need an heir, and if I'm an heir, then I'm a Death Eater. I can't have one without the other."
"Do you want one without the other?"
How are you missing the point of the conversation so spectacularly? Regulus wonders incredulously.
"No, sir," he says out loud, "But I don't know what to do about it, and was hoping you could help me, even if I need to stay at Hogwarts during the summer break until I'm of age and they lose control over me."
There. Regulus has said his piece; he's gotten it out of the way. Now for the solution, which –
"I'm afraid, dear boy, that you've already identified the problem," Dumbledore says gravely. "Until you are of age, there is nothing I can do."
"What?" Regulus replies, shocked. He thought that the hardest part of this would be gathering the courage to ask; he never thought Dumbledore wouldn't be able to help him. "I mean, pardon me, Sir? How is there nothing that you can do? You're the headmaster and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot."
"I do indeed hold those roles; however, your parents are your family and your magical guardians. I'm sure they have your best interest at heart and only want what's best for you."
What the ever-loving fuck?
"And the best thing for me is to be a Death Eater?" Regulus asks in disbelief. "Is that what you're saying?"
"If this is a path your life takes you down, then there is little I can do to change it."
"I'm asking you for help, Professor," Regulus pleads desperately, all remnants of pride forgotten. "I'm asking you to change it. Is there nothing at all? No protection programme by the ministry? I'll make do on my own; I just need a way to stop them from bringing me back. Please Sir, please."
"What could you possibly need protection from, dear boy?" Dumbledore replies. "They're your parents. Like I said, until you're of age, there is nothing I can do."
That is the moment that Regulus realises that the side of the light is run by a fraud. Dumbledore could have helped him. Dumbledore should help him; is this not his job as the headmaster?
Regulus knows without a doubt that he would've been offered help if he was a Gryffindor, but he's evidently not worth saving as a Slytherin. The light side, the good guys, whatever they want to call themselves, they're just a bunch of hypocritcal bigots.
Well fuck them.
"Duly noted, Professor, I appreciate your time," Regulus says tonelessly, and then he walks out without being dismissed.
If all anybody will ever see him as is as a Black, as a Death Eater, as someone dark, cruel and dangerous, then that's exactly what he'll be.
Regulus never hesitates before an unforgivable again.
Notes:
My favourite line: From brothers to strangers in two simple sentences.
Also me writing the Bellatrix scene, "yeah this is good."
Me rereading the Bellatrix scene, "shit you've got issues..."
I know people want dark Regulus with no morals and straight chaos which you WILL GET SO DO NOT WORRY, but Regulus is a person and he will have emotions. He's not going to be sad and mopey the whole time, this is really only this chapter, he will be dark and vengeful and unhinged for most of it, but I'm not going to treat him as a robot. This is probably better left until the end of the next chapter to see what I mean, and then you'll understand more as the fic progresses but I am going to explore what he goes through in depth.
This seems very vague but oh well, can't wait to hear your thoughts, see you by Friday xx