And here we have the next instalment, sorry it focuses more on Reg than the battle but hopefully there is still enough action, it love Regulus so much, what about you guys?
Slythindors' deadly dance – Regulus watched with twisted fascination as Dumbledore and Sirius circled each other as if they were a couple executing the opening steps of a beautiful and deadly dance. They eyed each other up and down, sizing the other one up, searching for any weakness to target, and if not where the best place would be to create one. Their eyes never left the opponent, like Tom cats before a battle they bid their time, knowing that when they struck, they would strike true and it would be ferocious. Their footwork was precise and accurate, planned, this dance had been done before, if not with each other, then at least practised elsewhere, very well planned, it seemed that word was going to haunt him today, the Slythindor he was.
Then he cast his eyes around the room they were in, well, enclosure, Fudge was there but he doubted he would be doing any fighting, generals die in bed and all that. A couple of his death eater dogs flanked him, extra opponents should Dumbledore fail to take him down all by himself. They were going to fight him one by one at least, but it was still an ambush. He had handled an ambush before, and ambush he could handle, but he had managed to apparate away from that with Severus and Harry in tow. This was more than that, it was duel, a duel with the odds so heavily stacked against him but he had come, for him. They were going to wear him out until he was barely standing before restraining him or finishing him off.
They were being monsters, monsters! He had respected Dumbledore so much, loved him, Sirius at one point had thought of him as more of a kindly uncle than a teacher. True, Dumbledore had that act and played it on everyone; he had done the same thing when he first met Tom. Yet with Sirius it seemed more profound and seeming as before James' father Dumbledore was the only kind older man he knew, it made sense he would feel so betrayed, and as if he was doing betraying. But Dumbledore wronged them first by not helping him get a trial and then not siding with Reg a day or so ago and locking him up like now. There were too many people against him; there is no way he could win against such magnitude.
Fudge had used the crucatious curse on him, he and his death eater dogs, somehow he could not see that his most loyal followers were the ones who'd sooner strip him of his title and give it to their true lord than follow the simplest order. Of course the orders he was giving his men at the moment were orders they were only too glad to follow, he was a traitor to them, Regulus knew and he bore it because there was nothing else left to do. Fudge was useful to them at the moment because they wanted Sirius and his allies, which meant himself, dead as much as the ministry did. However, the members on that ship were slowing beginning to sail as uncertainties plagued the minds of contemporary Britain. It was probably the worst thing for a leader making far too many mistakes and losing battles was for his underlings to start to think.
He and Sirius making Britain think was dangerous blow to the ministry. Death eaters had been the minority within the ministry even before he and his brother had taken it upon themselves to decrease their number more. The people of Britain were not his allies but he did have power over them and to a certain extent they had power over him. Despite his shaky hold on things, he was the minister and people tended to forget that Fudge was but one man. Without the support of the country he became but one man with little left to live for. He had no life skills and no alternate routes or career paths to turn to, not even any family or close friends. For what was a general without an army or a king, without a kingdom to rule? It was with this thought; Regulus appraised the man with nothing but pity in his eyes.
Fudge was as much of a puppet as he had once been, it was not his fault he was an idiot, it was the fault of the nation for putting him in office and he was now bumbling around, so unsure of himself. It was as clear as day to him that he was terrified, he had been since the second Sirius broke out of jail, after such a short time in there. The problem with being the minister was that the media and shortly after the people of Britain, loved a scandal. Every mistake was your fault, the minor and the major and rained down on you like a tonne of bricks. Sirius had once said he'd like nothing more than jump out from behind him and shout 'boo'. Then, Regulus had not been quite sure what his older brother had been alluding to, it was after all, such a strange desire.
He now knew, he felt the stirrings of pity from Cornelius Fudge, even when he cursed him with the pain of a thousand knives, even when he caused him to scream, because he looked just as in pain as he was. He was fool, a poor, weak, terrified fool, trying to cling on to what remained of his kingdom. As he watched it slip through his fingers like sand he was starting to realise it had never been his and that scared him all the more. Realising his life had been in servitude with the title of being on top, bowing to the demands of the headmaster of Hogwarts School, bowing to his subordinates with their silver tongues and their pockets full of money, no, he didn't quite know all of that, yet, but he knew he had a reason to be upset and frightened and that it went far beyond Sirius Black.
If the minister knew no other way to try and alleviate these crushing feelings than torturing him, for it had been he and his brother to unearth them even if truly, deep down, they were not the cause, Regulus would bear it. He wanted to be a protector of the innocent like his brother, and Fudge was far from innocent, but he was a damned fool and nobody could truly hate a fool. He had been a fool himself once, he had followed orders blindly and those orders had been ghastly, he had killed before with no real incentive or risk of punishment if he defied. Young, lost and alone and desperate for recognition he ran from his brother and the Potter family and allowed his parents to lead him down the dark, dark road that was Voldemort and his ever growing empire.
He killed when he was told to simply because he was not sure where he was when he was not following orders. True, soon he had seen the error in his ways and somewhat made up for his mistakes, but that was not the reason Sirius forgave his wrongdoings. He said he forgave him because they were blood brothers and no further explanation or reason was needed, yet Regulus could tell and sense what his brother may yet still be figuring out. When he was with Voldemort, he had been nothing but a poor fool and who can hate someone like that? He recognised the look in the minister's eyes and even as he hurt him, all he could do was let him do what he needed to in order to release these feelings and let out his ever building fears. Regulus reckoned he was something like a child throwing a tantrum.
Regulus could only view him as a child to pity because the toys had been given were fun to play with but were ultimately too big for him. It had been fun to play as minister with so much power and such big toys and his playmates were more powerful than him, but he could not deal with it. Looking at him now he had to say that not one of his movements were planned. Of course this was the idea, the ministry and headmaster had planned this too, perhaps they were all Slythindors inside. When Fudge hurt him, he felt pity, when he looked at Dumbledore, perhaps not for help or pity of for him to suddenly understand and become the man he once was, he felt hate and anger. Dumbledore was anything but a fool, he manipulated them, and he controlled fools like Severus and Remus.
At one time he had had power over Sirius Black himself. Dumbledore was always the mastermind, the wolf in sheep's clothing. He pretended to be a doddery old man or a kindly uncle and then he struck, because people forgot he defeated Grindlewald, people forgot he was a powerful wizard, because he was just so nice. When Regulus looked at him he supposed that must be an act too, because he saw the same face as always. The same curious look in his twinkling blue eyes, appraising him beneath half moon spectacles, the same somewhat dangerous serenity and the same faint smile ever present on his aged face. When Regulus looked at him, he prayed for the man he once was and surely still had to be deep inside to resurface. He was cursed and screamed to the high heavens and Dumbledore looked on and did nothing.
Sirius was to tear him apart, but that would be dependent on... whether he could. Then Regulus is struck by a realization, he has never seen Sirius Black lose a fight before, he has always been 100% accurate, 100% successful, but that was based on his own careful blue prints and training. He made it look so easy because he was so powerful, so confident, and had charisma very little could dispute, but a lot of it was an act. Sirius had planned, every possibly scenario had run over in his mind 100 times before, and every consequent scenario for these moves like a dangerous game of chess with impossibly high stakes. But it was not the case this time; he had not planned of Regulus running off into danger to prove himself when he did not need to anyway and then having to fight a battle he was not ready for.
Regulus felt such guilt at forcing him into this situation, this was the one time they could fail and it was the one time that could not be afforded because there was no way to make a retreat. There was a reason why Sirius had waiting to go to Hogwarts, he knew he was not ready to take down Dumbledore, and he knew that was what he may have to do, one of those scenarios he had to allow for just in case. There were so many people who were enemies, he was the only ally and true friend Sirius had, that was why he was at least trying to be rescued, and he was locked up here and could do no good. He was meant to be down here helping him, well actually neither of them should be here at all, but he should be by his brother's side in all battles.
He was essentially in a magically reinforced glass box overhanging the battlefield, so Sirius could see what he wanted but fail to reach and Reg could watch his brother try but ultimately fall, the vindictiveness of these people never ceased to astound him. He thought the ministry of magic and Dumbledore were meant to be the good guys. Oh he knew that Sirius and then he by association were not as evil as the world thought them to be, but he was ruthless, they could both be when they needed to be. But Dumbledore was meant to be kindly, even if trapping Sirius like this was a good idea, and he hated to admit it, but it was, having him watch like this was torture, nothing less than the imagination of a malicious mind that could only be thought up by a genius.
Regulus banged on the glass, he felt so helpless ad defenceless now he did not have his wand on him, he did not even manage to make much sound. 'I'm sorry', he mouthed down to him, no point screaming as his little box was almost soundproof. If Sirius saw him in his peripheral vision he gave no indication he did so, his eyes were locked on his opponent, and so they should be. But he wished for his message to reach him, if it gave him any solace at all, he had never meant two little words so much in his life. He threw himself against the glass separating them furiously, outraged at this treatment. They had locked him up here, defenceless, wandless and useless as a lure for Sirius, and Sirius came, of course he did.
Dumbledore raised his wand above him in the duelling position, threatening, inviting, waiting, and Sirius copied him with his hands almost automatically. He had done this before, just never with someone whose power rivalled his so closely. The duel was going to begin any moment, both parties cast a shield over themselves, that was the first thing one should do in a serious battle. Sirius' face was one of hard determination, he did not know if he was going to win, gone was his cocky assuredness and his half smile, it was scary. He could not lose though, not this battle, that was just not an option, not with so much at stake. They had done so much to allow any of it to fall apart; they had come so far from the bottom of society, a prisoner and a dead man.
They had sought out, fought, defeated, captured and got arrested a load of death eaters, all by themselves, well Sirius had. They had instilled fear in many others so much so some were thinking of turning themselves in so they did not have to face his wrath. They had none other but Rita Skeeter as a fangirl of sorts, fawning over Sirius' bad boy looks and behaviour and publishing their every success with vigour. They had Harry. That was probably the best thing they had done, raised Harry with the love he needed and deserved. Sirius had rescued him from where he had been abused and locked up some very dangerous muggles whilst doing it. They were hunting horcruxes and crumbling the dark empire so Voldemort could be killed like a normal wizard once his body was restored, and he was sure it would be one day.
And what of him? He had come back from the land of the dead and been reunited with his big brother, and joined him on the Lestrange mission. He had a heart he had previously locked away and become a loving uncle, and done all of this while remaining elusive. They were happy. But they could not stop yet; there was still stuff to do. They had not captured the rat yet, and no one seemed to care about him even if they did know, Dumbledore and Fudge had proved that. They were the only ones who could bring jusctice and the only one's ruthless enough to go after who were the obvious death eaters and bring them their just desserts, so they simply could not fail now. Everything they had worked for to this point would fall to ruin, their plans for the future, diminished, Harry, on the run with Kreacher and hopefully Remus.
They were innocent, he and Sirius, he had screamed it at the top of his voice when he was first captured by Dumbledore, Sirius had screamed it in jail. They had done nothing but the job or aurors, and since returning to the land of life, Reg had been strictly a good guy. All of this could be landed on Fudge he knew, if he had just admitted his mistake in the first place and done what he should have, this would not be necessary. But he didn't. He didn't admit it, he did not revoke his criminal status, he did not offer him compensation, so here they were. They had started a deadly game of trying to catch him before he completed this revolution of his and turned yet more of his beloved ministry officials against him.
Why could they not just leave them alone? That was all they wanted, a normal life, just them and Harry and their friends, why was that too much to ask? Why did Dumbledore and Fudge have to turn out to be so twisted and dark in the end? Why did he have to be such an idiot to go to the room of requirement, on his own, before he was ready anyway? Why didn't Sirius leave him, it would be no less than what he deserved. Yes, he was Sirius' brother, only ally and friend, it seemed so anyway, besides Kreacher, but it would have made so much more sense just to leave him. He did not deserve to be rescued, to have any affection shown towards him at all, because he fucked up, and now they might not win. And all he could say was that he was so, so sorry.
All these thoughts built up inside him until he was close to weeping because of it all. The guilt was like a crushing weight squeezing his heart; this could have been avoided if it were not for him. Sirius would tell him it was not his fault and comfort him and that he was not to blame himself. Oh he would kick and scream and yell and spit and tell him he was being irresponsible and dangerous and foolish and stupid and how he was never going to be trusted with anything again and certainly never accompany him on a mission to do with this revolution. Truthfully he accepted that and knew it, but Sirius would never blame him. Sirius would say it's Fudge's fault for being so corrupt, Dumbledore for being so corrupted, Voldemort's and Peter's fault for obvious reasons, he would even blame Salazar Slytherin and himself, but never him.
It was the same when they were both kids. He would blame himself and everyone else for everything that happened to him. He had climbed up a tree that was too tall for him to get the apples at the top, too young to use magic and of course had fallen and been hurt. It was his fault and no one else's, but Sirius had not seen it that way. He had blamed himself for not keeping a careful enough eye on his younger brother and protecting him well enough. He had blamed Kreacher and their parents for not doing the same thing. He blamed God for the tree's existence and the apples being at the very top where he could not reach them, but he never blamed Regulus. He had promptly climbed the tree and picked every apple in sight for his baby brother, Sirius had always been very good to him.
He banged his fists against the glass separating them and roared in anger and anguish; his muggle attacks did nothing against such reinforced material. Then suddenly Sirius' head shot up and he locked his grey-blue eyes with him – and smiled. It was the confident smirk he usually wore which always filled Regulus with a mirroring feeling. He was not overly confident here because he was not assured, and that was not a good change. Yet the smile was disarming, it took away all of his worries and cares and suddenly nothing mattered, there was nothing to be frightened about. That jumbles mess of thoughts that had been his mind and he was left with a calm quiet, just the sound of his pulse in his head. It was a smile of forgiveness, and understanding and promise and truth and Regulus felt himself calm as if it made no sense not to be.
'I'll save you,' the smile told him, 'don't you worry, I will save you, I forgive you, I'm going to get you out of this, I promise." Reg hoped so; he really, really hoped so. Then a beam of red light was absorbed into Sirius' shield and he had to look away. From then on it was just a load of spells for disarming and throwing things at him to break his shield. Sirius kept modifying his shield from absorbing magic, to deflecting it, to a general one, a familiar smirk playing around his lips. Dumbledore was obviously frustrated at this and that brought a smile to Regulus' face and at that point he realised Sirius was not fighting back. He did not need or want to hold back to protect the old man, so it brought him to question his motives.
At first he wondered whether he was waiting for Dumbledore to tire himself out first, but that was going to take a while. It was unlikely to work as well, Dumbledore would catch onto what he was doing eventually and it would turn into a waiting game. Besides, he was just so extraordinarily powerful anyway, it would just take too long, it was impractical but it was a plan. What Sirius was doing required upmost concentration but he was spending no magical energy at the moment. Then he noticed was Sirius was noticing, Dumbledore was fighting like a novice and in his confusion he'd stopped to watch, see if this was actually some sort of greater plan. He was firing spell after powerful spell with very little strategy, they were just mostly dodged or absorbed.
Sirius was acting as if butter wouldn't melt proving his agility as he dodged, jumped, twirled and rolled out the way of his spells. Sure it was most likely mainly an act but that small smirk of enjoyment despite the circumstances seemed subtle enough to be genuine. Every time he rolled away he would get to his feet, dust himself off, raise one eyebrow and say, "is that all you got?" He hated to admit it, but with his power, he could afford to be a bragger, happy with his magical supply. Regulus could not wait until Sirius retaliated; when they sparred it was incredible enough, and he was not even a spectator. Seeing him against a real opponent where he did not have to hold back but actually try...
Eventually Sirius decided it was his turn to shoot back. He raised his hands higher and smirked down at a red faced, panting Dumbledore, "getting tired old man?" he was not sweating himself, but then the only magic he had used was forming is shield. "Was that your best attempt?" He asked darkly, clearly telling him that it was not good enough. No words were spoken, with a small grunt and a pushing motion with his hands, Dumbledore was thrown backwards despite his shield. From then on it was chaos; a myriad of different colour flew back and forth, some meeting their target, others, continuing on until it met a wall. With Dumbledore saying spells and Sirius not needing them, they continued that deadly dance. The stakes were so high, and the amount of sheer magical energy in that arena kept Regulus hooked.
His words seemed to strike a chord within the old man and his smirked a very Sirius-like smirk and he seemed years younger. Then suddenly they were all reminded of why Dumbledore was respected and feared so much. He started to fight back in earnest doing flips and twirls, showing them exactly why he had so many titles and how he had earned them. For defeating Grindlewald he had the first honour of Merlin or the 2nd honour of Merlin, or all the honours of Merlin or something like that. It was stupid really because the only one who should have and give out honours of Merlin should be Sirius as he was Grandfather Merlin's heir and well on his way to becoming him. Reg watched in worry and horror and Sirius was forced to move from the offensive position where he was in his element to that of defence.
He bit his lip as the battle became so fierce, it wasn't meant to be like this, Sirius could not be losing, but it was inevitable. There were so many people. He closed his eyes momentarily, but it did not block them out and eventually he just continued to watch the captivating dance before him. Sirius' brows were creased in concentration as he tried to remain on top of his game but it was very hard. His shots became more powerful as he tried to force Dumbledore back into defence but the old man was fighting harder too. It was so easy to forget he was a warrior, it was so easy to forget he could be fierce, it was so easy to underestimate him and how would one know otherwise? They had not seen him truly fight before, all they had were stories with, it would appear, exaggeration that was second to none.
Then suddenly a crack appeared in Sirius' shield that widened to a small hole, but he did not reinforce it straight away, it was only a small hole. Dumbledore noticed it immediately and aim was applied to his next spell. His brother did move out of the way quickly enough, the curse glanced his cheek and drew blood. The world seemed to slow to a standstill. This was when duels and spars stopped, when the first blood was drawn. This was when they would shake hands and walk away, but this was not a spar. They were out for more than just blood, this was a cock fight, in more ways than one, it was a battle to unconsciousness or even death. Almost in a daze Sirius raised one hand to his cheek and wiped the blood away and fingered it experimentally with his first two fingers and thumb as if he did not know what it was.
He did not seem to be in pain, which was expected as it was only a scratch, it would take more than that to hurt a wizard, he just looked down at his hand in shock, eyes wide. Reg suddenly realised he had never seen him bleed before, not since he'd been reunited with him. He watched with the same sick fascination that the fight drew him into as the red blood oozed out of the scratch on his cheek, trickled down his face and then dripped onto the floor with an audible drop. There was something significant about the first blood, after this it would not matter, but right now Sirius looked like a child that had been slapped, not that it was a new thing for him, but it was from the kindly Dumbledore. So the first blood of the battle had been spilt.
Sirius waved his fingers over it but it refused to close, something to do with the curse, at least he managed to stop it from bleeding profusely, it would have to heal the muggle way. "That's probably going to scar," he said quietly in a voice one might use to describe the pattern on the silverware. He stroked his cheek one last time before raising his hands to commence battle, issue waved aside. So it started again: the flashing lights, the many different colours, the shouts of spells from one side and the grunts of exertion and deadly silence from the other. The vivid hand movements, the agility of both parties involved, the raw energy so close to him in a more or less confined space, it was intoxicating and dangerous and deadly beautiful, there was no way he could take his eyes off them, despite the blood of his brother's face.
They seemed to be evenly matched; Regulus could see this battle lasting quite a while. It was a troubling thought, if they were evenly matched, what about all of the other opponents he had to get through? The blade of guilt stabbed through his chest once more, Sirius was doing all of this to save him, to clear up his mess. After a while it became clear that Sirius had the beating of their old headmaster, they were both tired out, breathing heavily and sweating and it only got harder from here on out. Dumbledore could rest; Sirius still had eight more fully rested, fed, ready and eager wizards to go through and they had all watched the battle, they knew his techniques and how powerful he was.
Beating them was just not going to happen, even Sirius was not that powerful, and so what was he meant to do? The only consolation was that Sirius was smart enough to make sure Harry was safe, probably with Kreacher, hiding out somewhere. Just then Sirius got a good shot in, Dumbledore flew across the room, smashed into a wall, fell to the floor limp, and didn't move, that was it, he was knocked out cold. The silence the room fell into as t host powerful warlock fell was broken by Sirius letting out long, loud surprised peals of laughter. He span around in circles, arm out wide, bellowing, "I BEAT HIM!" In triumph. "I BEAT DUMBLEDORE!" His eyes were wide, weary and bloodshot, he looked and sounded mad and he couldn't care less. "Who's next?" He challenged the waiting opponents, "come on, I'll take you all on!"
Some member of the ministry Reg did not know stepped forward to pick up the proverbial gauntlet. "You're almost dead on your feet," the unknown wizard smirked at him, though not sounding as cocky as he looked, this man had just beaten Dumbledore, "I'll finish you off myself."
"We'll see about that," Sirius grinned right back, and Reg didn't want to admit it, but the unknown wizard was right. Sirius was dead on his feet, and it was frightening, he was swaying backwards and forth on his heels, his eyelids were fluttering. His magical shots were getting wild and wide and horrible unmeasured, he had long ago lost his cool. With his sheer power he soon beat the next opponent, he had been small fry, but because Sirius had lost his cool he was expended unnecessary energy. Another wizard was stepping forward to take his comrades place before the previous adversary had even fallen and there were 6 left and then there were five. Sirius beat that one too but now he was panicking, he knew he was about to drop, they all did.
Sirius needed help, if he could get through this blasted glass they could make a run for it, and all good fighters could do that, that was the only reason he was not gone already after all, to save him. He thumped on the barrier as hard as he could with his fists, it did not even tremble damn it. Sirius could not spare a shot to the little cage he was in, his skills and attention was monopolised quite firmly, it was up to him. He had done magic without a wand before, it had been accidental and as a child, hardly conscious, but it could be done. Accidental magic usually stops once one has turned eleven and learns control, but if the power is inside you, and it is your core that performs the magic, not the wand and he had done it once, then he could do it again.
Sirius said his magic spoke to him, he needed to keep calm, find his core and then force it outwards to destroy, it could not be too hard surely. It was not like he was trying to unlock his core in such a short amount of time, he knew full well that would take weeks, and he had tried it and it hadn't worked anyway, he just wanted to perform a couple of spells to get out of here. Sirius made it look so easy, and he had trained him so that he knew he was ready to take on the Lestrange Brothers. He had performed accidental magic then too, that had been the idea, it had been out of desperation then, again, minimal conscious attention, but only if he could remember what it had felt like. He let his eyes grow half lidded and tried to block out the fight before him in order to remember.