Regulus Black

The most pitiful person ever to call you a Mudblood is Regulus Black. You've always felt sorry for him. You don't think Sirius gives him enough credit, and you know what it's like to have an older sibling hate you for something you don't have a lot of control over.

It's a couple of weeks after graduation, and you and James are getting a drink at the Three Broomsticks for old times' sake. This is where the two of you went for your first date in seventh year, after you decided to give him a proper chance. You figured, why not? His devotion impresses you with its longevity, and he is quite handsome.

Ever since that first date, things have gone well. You've discovered there's more to him than jinxing Slytherins, and he makes an excellent sparring partner. Also, kissing James is surprisingly fun. He can make you forget your fears and uncertainty. He says he loves you. You're not ready to go that far yet, but you do like him. His good spirits are undefeatable and contagious—when you're with him, you think maybe you and the Order of the Pheonix can win the war, maybe Dumbledore can make this work. Maybe the future isn't so bleak after all.

He orders two Butterbeers, and finds you a table. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap. You giggle and dig your nails into the skin of his arm in retaliation, twisting so you're half facing him.

"Lily, my sweet torment," he groans, pulling you closer and laughing too. Your noses touch, and you smile shyly.

Someone clears his throat behind you. It manages to sound apologetic, disgusted, and jealous, all at once.

Both you and James turn to face the newcomer, James tightening his grip on your arm and your waist.

"We need to talk," says Regulus Black.

There is silence.

Rosmerta clinks two Butterbeers to get your attention, and gratefully, you swing yourself out of James's arms and toward the bar. You don't look back.

You get the Butterbeers, and sip yours before going back to the table. You have a bad feeling about this.

You slip into the chair next to James, noting that Regulus is now sitting across from him, expression grave. "I'm telling you, James, this is the opportunity of a lifetime," he is saying. "My friends and I have already seen things you couldn't possibly imagine. These are changing times, and you can be a part of that. Both of you," he adds, looking at you, and you raise your eyebrows.

"Let's be clear," says James. "You're asking us to...what, exactly?"

"Join him," says Regulus, looking earnest and much too innocent for what he's suggesting. He lowers his voice, glancing around the bar. You look, too, and you can see a handful of his friends—people you know from school, most of them. Barty Crouch Jr., Rob Wilkes, Thorfinn Something…"Join the Dark Lord," Regulus whispers.

You stare at him in numb shock. Your first thought is that he must be crazy, or maybe he only meant the invitation for James, although if the two of you are really going to get married (he proposed the day after graduation), then that could get very awkward…

"What?" James asks, also surprised.

"You can do stuff," says Regulus, voice low and fast. "There's a lot to learn, spells I never would've—"

"How?" James interrupts, loudly. "You're not even out of school."

Regulus frowns. "That's irrelevant. To serve the Dark Lord—"

You hold up one hand, tired of this. You think you know why Regulus is asking. He knows, everyone knows, that where James goes Sirius follows. But he can't really mean to include you, can he? "Why?" you ask sharply. "Why us?" You want to know if Regulus is acting on his own here, or—

"The Dark Lord believes you can be useful. It is an honor to serve him, and the rewards are great," Regulus says. He goes on, but you aren't listening. Opportunity of a lifetime…yeah, right. Still, for one brief, crazy moment you find yourself tempted. It would make things so much easier—you wouldn't be hunted for your birth anymore, you could keep your family safe, you could see Sev again…

"No," says James quietly.

"I beg your pardon?" asks Regulus, oddly formal.

"No. You can tell Voldemort we said no," James says firmly, covering your hand on the table with his.

You don't say anything. You feel as though you can't move for a moment, and then sanity comes rushing back. If you joined Voldemort, there would be no guarantee you wouldn't be hunted for your blood, and you would certainly be justifiably wanted by the Ministry for your actions. It certainly wouldn't make your family safer—where would Voldemort's motivation to spare them be? He'd probably enjoy torturing them in front of you. They are in danger no matter what you do, and you already know your best hope in that regard is blood magic. If your world comes knocking on their doorstep, you'll do whatever it takes to see it doesn't make it over the threshold.

Regulus's face is white. "Fine," he says quietly, voice cold and remote. "But if you and your Mudblood girlfriend don't stay out of this, Potter—well, don't say I didn't warn you."

It's odd how threatening a boy two years younger than you are can be.

James gets to his feet angrily. "If you dare insult my girlfriend—" he says dangerously, reaching for his wand.

You sit in silence, unmoving. You just don't feel up for this right now. Regulus is a nice boy with evil brainwashing parents, and he has at least four friends with him whereas you and James are on your own…if it comes to a fight, it won't end well, and if James hurts Regulus Sirius will suffer, and if Regulus and his Death Eater friends kill you and James, Sirius will go completely insane and homicidal…In short, the odds are not in your favor.

"Hey," Regulus says softly, "don't start anything, Potter. You're not the only one with friends in high places." With that, he heads back to his group of Slytherins.

James sits down again and stares moodily into his Butterbeer. "Let's get out of here," he says at length.

You're careful to scrutinize the shadows as you leave. In some ways, that conversation makes more sense as the prelude to an ambush, but the shadows don't move and curses don't rend the night. You're not sure whether to be glad or sorry.

It's only a few days later you and James are officially inducted into the Order of the Phoenix. There's firewhiskey, and laughter, but the whole thing seems surreal to you. Sirius laughs the loudest of all, and you wonder if he knows his little brother's a Death Eater.

You watch James toast you, Dumbledore smiling benignly, and you think that this is no victory. It's the beginning of something that may demand your very lives, and which will certainly change them.

You're a witch, but you're not sure you're ready for this.