44- Father and Son
"I want you to stop dancing at that bar." Severus insisted some days later, sounding quite possessive; he hadn't liked her job before but now the idea of his girlfriend presenting herself half-naked in front of an audience made him almost sick.
Raven frowned at him, wondering if it was jealousy she detected in his voice. Nevertheless, she countered, "Nah, I won't do that. To what point and purpose? We need all the information we can get-"
"We've got the Black boy now. He's well enough introduced into the Dark Lord's inner circle-"
"He's not! He's just one of his many followers and hasn't even proved himself worthy of that silly mark yet. You cannot possibly think the whelp could give a decent spy! It's much too dangerous for him."
"Ah, and what you're doing isn't dangerous?" He asked waspishly.
"In comparison- no. I'm just dancing and trying to keep my ears open in a relaxed atmosphere where people like to drink and to not watch their tongue." It was quite a safe thing to do. Nobody suspected a dancing, scantily clad witch to spy on them- to her audience, she was merely a body and her face was a mask. It didn't matter who she was or how she was called- even her blood status didn't matter. They came to see bare flesh and that's what they got.
Of course, Raven wasn't all too keen on wasting away her nights at Henri le Grand's Red Lantern- she was still dreaming of becoming an Auror one day- but she simply couldn't think of a better job to do at the moment. Spying on Death Eaters was her contribution in times of war, and it wasn't one that needed her to do any stupidly heroic things.
But that was not the point Severus was really trying to make. Could it be that he is, indeed, a little bit jealous? Her heart was beating faster with joyful excitement, but when she finally voiced her thoughts he called them absurd.
It hurt like hell. Although their... friendship?... seemed to have proceeded and taken a new turn to a new dimension that was now spiced with kisses and long nights of sexual activities, she still hadn't heard him say anything like I love you yet. Sometimes, when he was making love to her, she knew he did. Most of the time, however, she feared he could change his mind about their little arrangement and cancel it to spare himself for bloody Saint Lily with her everlasting halo, high up on the pedestal of glorification he'd built for her in his imagination. And then she got angry...
-o-
Arguing with Raven was always so very different than the arguments he'd had with Lily. Both witches seemed to share the same temper and were quite stubborn, but that was also where the similarities ended. When Raven was mad at him, she was like an erupting volcano, hot and impulsive. When Lily was mad at him, it was more like the coming of a new ice age and she wouldn't talk to him for days or weeks... the latest ice age was already lasting for three years, four months and a couple of days now- he'd lost count of it.
Raven was never mad at him for long. She'd say what she had to say, would even yell at him and call him an idiot, but then her anger would subside. Also, her arguments made more sense than Lily's because she didn't divide the world into black and white or into four houses; she didn't blame him for being a Slytherin. Sometimes, however, she'd roll her eyes and groan, 'Men!' , as if that was the worst insult she could think of (of course, she knew many more).
Tonight, their argument took a completely different turn. Severus couldn't recall what had transpired but it ended with a lascivious skirmish in bed, them groping at each other, tousling the sheets. He'd never thought he'd lose control like that...
"Look on the bright side, Sev," she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, after she'd recovered her breath, "they can gape 'till their eyeballs drop out of their heads, but you're the only one allowed to touch."
He wanted to reply it wasn't jealousy that had caused his concern, but then he thought better of it and remained silent. Still, he wasn't jealous. Alright, perhaps he was a tiny little bit possessive- after all, she had urged him to give them a try, and he... well, he had agreed. It was only natural that he didn't like what his girlfriend (how very strange that still sounded!) was doing for a living. On the other hand, she had come up with sensible arguments long before he'd lost control of himself, and he was always susceptible to good reasoning.
-o-
It was about a week later, on one lazy Saturday evening, when all of a sudden Regulus Black knocked the door and came rushing in, startling Severus and Raven.
"Merlin, I must be mad," he gasped as he let himself sink onto one of the kitchen chairs, wiping his forehead in a dramatical gesture.
"Perhaps you are mad." Severus suggested kindly. "It could be a family disease."
Regulus rolled his eyes, fumbling in the pockets of his robes. He was all dressed up to the nines today, wearing his finest robes, which was not his usual attire when he came to visit them.
Instead of saying anything at all, he merely slammed an untitled book on the table. Actually, it looked more like a journal.
"Is that what I guess it is?" Raven asked while Severus' eyes widened. There was no affirmation needed, both of them knew what it was that Regulus had brought them. The journal reeked of evil, of the Dark Arts...
"What are you waiting for, Snape? Do away with it. You still got the Basilisk venom and a silver dagger, don't you?"
"How did you come by it?" Severus inquired as he casually prepared his dagger, not showing his excitement. As it seemed, the whelp had just delivered the second Horcrux- the very book the Dark Lord had given Lucius Malfoy to keep. And because they hadn't arranged anything like that, he was somewhat suspicious now.
"It's a long story."
"Pray tell."
"I don't have much time. Lucius expects me to show up at the Red Lantern for further celebrations."
At that, Severus shot a sharp glance in Raven's direction before she could tell Regulus that her shift would be starting soon. He didn't want her to be involved into any sort of trouble Black might have ignited. "You don't have to go into details. A short summary will do."
"Alright," Regulus nodded, "if you insist- tonight, there was a celebration at Malfoy Manor. Cissy's pregnant, you know, and tonight she officially announced the happy event."
"I'm certain Lucius is very proud. After all, he is married since five years already."
"Ah, I guess dear Cissy just worried about her shape," Raven threw in.
"Exactly. She's still not thrilled about gaining weight but after her father died this spring, she reconsidered her priorities and came to the resolution that it was time for her to accept her responsibility-"
"You're digressing!" Severus reminded Regulus. "What has Narcissa Malfoy's pregnancy got to do with the fact that you showed up here with a Horcrux in your pocket?"
"Like I said, there was that festivity at Malfoy Manor and everyone was invited- the Blacks, the Malfoys... all of our elite pure-blood circle-
"You're certain you don't just want to destroy that bloody thing, Snape?"
"You still haven't explained how you came by it," Severus replied cautiously.
"Well, since I knew where Lucius kept it, I decided to switch it with a fake one while everyone was busy celebrating."
"That was a rather foolish thing to do! What if somebody took notice of your absence or was watching you?"
"Unlikely," Regulus grinned, and it was uncanny how much her resembled his elder brother when he put on that grin. But very soon he put on a more serious face. "Snape, I'm not a total fool. I know Malfoy Manor like the back of my hand, and I know what these festive events are like; I was well prepared. I had this copy- a perfect reproduction I made when I received the invitation, knowing there was a fat chance for me to replace the Horcrux.
"Also, I knew that father would love me to get married, so that I will soon produce an heir to the most Noble and Ancient House of Black... he's ailing, if you must know. Therefore he pestered me with introducing suitable witches to me, one more annoying than the other..." Regulus heaved a sigh, remembering all these stupid cows. He'd always been the good son, the one who'd followed his parents' bidding- until he had realized that it was his life. And he didn't want to get married any time soon. Breaking up with Mellisandre had been hard enough... even though- at that time- he still believed it the right thing to do. Because he believed he owed his parents to be proud of him, that at least they should be proud of one of their sons. But he'd been wrong...
"To cut a long story short, I had a perfect alibi," he continued after a short pause. "Do you still remember Angitia Bulstrode, Clementine's younger sister? No, probably not, for she's nothing special. She was one year below me and never stuck out for her intellect- unfortunately, not for her beauty either. Actually, she looks like a cow and is just as smart as one, but her blood is very pure and there had never been a blood traitor in her side of the family.
"Anyway, she's too dumb to realize me messing with her memories. I took her for a walk around the manor and I guess she still believes we were out on a romantic date when indeed I left her in the corridor outside Lucius' study to get that damnable Horcrux.
"Now, please, do away with it, Snape."
"Yeah, do it, Sev!" Raven encouraged Severus, who carefully prepared his dagger.
He dipped it into the vial of Basilisk venom... and hesitated for a moment, thoughts running wild in his mind. But then he unceremoniously stabbed the journal, ignoring its... call... before his determination could waver. Am I doing the right thing?, he wondered briefly, for the desire to join the Dark Lord and to become someone... special (just like he had always dreamed) seemed to flare up like a shooting star- and just as soon as that it vanished again, reminding him of the fact that it made no sense to wish upon a falling star since they were mostly space junk. And then he realized that that was quite a Muggle observation...
-o-
A couple of days after the festivities at Malfoy Manor, Regulus happened to find his father sitting lost in thoughts in the darkened library of Grimmauld Place, the Blacks' family home. He briefly wondered whether to ask him what was troubling him but quickly changed his mind. Mother always told him to not bother father when he was brooding, and besides, she kept on worrying about his ailing health.
"Regulus, is that you, my boy?"
He stopped, frowning at the almost too intimate, too familiar tone of his father's voice. Orion Black never grew soft. He was the patriarch of the family and as such he demanded respect rather than love.
"Yes, father." Regulus pondered whether to walk up the staircase to his room or to join his father in the library. He had already set one foot on the first stair since he desperately wanted to avoid another lecture about marriage and his duty to father an heir to the House of Black, but then he changed his mind. Something in his father's tone made him turn around. After all, Orion Black had been acting kind of strange lately.
It had started in spring, after Regulus' uncle Cygnus had died. Although he died a natural death, something about it must have triggered father to ward their home like a fortress, and he had come up with some rather peculiar spells these last days.
Is there anything he fears? Regulus wondered, but he couldn't come up with an answer and he doubted father would tell him. They never had a real conversation, let alone a discussion. For as long as he could remember, Sirius had always been the one in charge of arguments or quarrelling, just for the sake of it. Because of father's belief that the Dark Lord had the right idea, because he supported the purification of the wizarding race... so, according to that, things were going fine in the wizarding world. The Dark Lord was rising in power; Muggles, Muggleborns or blood traitors were dying every day- there was nothing to fear for Orion Black. Except, perhaps, for his own son's aims and actions...
Although Regulus doubted that father knew about that, a cold shiver was running down his spine when father invited him to join him for a glass of Firewhiskey.
Totally astounded, Regulus entered the library where Orion Black had meanwhile risen from his armchair and stepped to a small, wooden cabinet. With slightly shaking hands he filled two glasses of the golden liquid, offering one to his son. Regulus couldn't help but notice how weary his father looked- and that he had never been invited to share a glass of Ogden's Finest Single-Cask Firewhiskey with him.
"Are you alright, sir?" He inquired politely.
"Why, yes my boy, of course I am. Come, come sit down. Let's raise our glasses in a toast for the recently deceased."
Regulus did as he was being told but he kept on pondering about this strange event, especially when father asked, "Did you have a pleasant evening?"
He had been at the Red Lantern with Avery, Mulciber and two other guys, enjoying the show and waiting for a chance to have a little chat with Raven, in the dark alley behind the pub. Now that they had already destroyed two of the three Horcruxes they knew for sure the Dark Lord had made, she was quite keen to lay her hands on the third one. But that was a more tricky affair than nicking the object from Lucius Malfoy, for the third Horcrux was currently in the possession of Bellatrix Lestrange... and although she was Regulus' cousin, she was a much harder nut to crack than Lucius since she was really unpredictable. Well, some even called her mad.
Regulus still hesitated to underline that- he still recalled the pretty, dark haired girl from his youth who had turned into one of the most beautiful witches. He had adored her when he was young. She was the one who had taught him Occlumency even before his first meeting with the Dark Lord. But then, she had changed. And her change had come proportional to her rise in Voldemort's ranks...
But that was not what father wanted to hear now. Regulus nipped at his glass of Firewhiskey and mulled over his opportunities to escape the possible lecture to come. Arguments like, don't waste your time, think of the future, get married, remember your responsibilities- do I have to remind you that you are the only heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black?
However, these arguments never came. Instead, father told him about a raid that had happened three nights ago, in which the Prewett brothers got killed.
Regulus frowned. Of course, he had heard of Gideon and Fabian Prewett. The name Prewett was not unfamiliar to him either, since his aunt Lucretia had once married a Prewett- and Ignatius was probably the only decent wizard of that name, for the rest of them were known to be blood-traitors. Nevertheless, they were distantly related.
And he was- to put it mildly- absolutely flabbergasted about the direction this conversation was taking, given that father seemed to be aggrieved about their death. After all, they were not only blood-traitors but also members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix.
"I knew their father," Orion continued, and his voice sounded as if it came from a great distance, as if he was back in the past, "we attended Hogwarts at the same time. Of course, he was a Gryffindor like the rest of his family- but he was a fine wizard nonetheless. Head Boy of our year, great Quidditch player... ah, beating his team was always quite a challenge, although Slytherin won the House Cup in the end..." He heaved a sigh. "Horatio was determined and almost as ambitious as a Slytherin... what a shame he married that silly witch..."
Regulus was still wondering what this was all about, when father suddenly gave him a sharp glance and asked, "Did you participate in the murder of Gideon and Fabian Prewett?"
"No," he replied honestly. Fortunately, he hadn't yet been asked to participate in any of the Death Eater raids. His friends had already started mocking him because of that fact, but he almost prayed that it would never happen... and perhaps the Dark Lord needed someone with a clean record for... whatever.
Orion Black stared at his son for a long time before he finally said, "Good. Now, don't get me wrong, son- I still agree to the Dark Lord's aims. The wizarding race has to be purified of all things Muggle."
Regulus thought of his experiences with the Muggle world (at that point, the image of a blue-haired, and just as annoying as she was fascinating, Muggle girl popped up in front of his mind's eye) and he silently chose to disagree. Of course, he would NEVER admit that in the presence of his father... but it was tempting, so very tempting...
For a brief moment it actually felt as if his brother's rebellious streak had struck him, and he was mortified. Then he realized that he had probably long caught up with Sirius or even surpassed him in being rebellious, only that he was less... brash about it. Unlike his brother's pesky ways, Regulus did not feel the need to rub everybody's nose in his change of heart, in his recent disagreement with his family's political ideals. His rebellion was a silent one, but effective. Probably more effective than anything Sirius had ever done...
"I-" Father continued, sounding as unassertive as if he was really weighing the consequences of trusting his son. "I am just not so certain anymore that the Dark Lord's means will really justify the end."
Regulus' eyes widened at that statement. Could it truly be that father was getting cold feet, now that he had finally realized what the Dark Lord was capable of? And why does the death of some blood-traitors seem to trouble him so? After all, his reasoning that he knew their father sounded so very... lame...
Orion downed his glass of Firewhiskey and refilled it. Then he glanced at his son again. "I don't want you to go on any killing spree for the Dark Lord. Stay close to him, but don't get too involved with his agenda-"
At that point, Regulus interrupted him by snorting out loud. Although he tried to be respectful towards his father, he suddenly got very angry and realized that he couldn't rein in his anger any longer. "Merlin's beard, father, I reckon it's a tad too late for that! The Dark Lord is neither known for his lenience nor for his mercy- as soon as you have pledged your allegiance to him, you are his. He doesn't accept any half-hearted commitments.
"And why does the death of those Prewett blood-traitors make such a difference anyway? In this senseless war, people are dying every day."
Orion Black chose to ignore his son's question about the Prewett boys. Instead he said, "I'm sorry, son. I really thought he would be the right one to purify the wizarding race- I never agreed to all that blood-shed. And most of all, I didn't want you to get involved too much...
"I'm glad to hear you haven't killed yet. That's not an experience I want you to make. And the Dark Lord doesn't have the right to demand that of you. You're a Black. Don't forget that you stem from one of the oldest and purest families in wizarding Britain..."
As if that fact would keep the Dark Lord from torturing me to death, should he ever find out about the Horcruxes we already destroyed, Regulus thought with a hint of sarcasm that he could have borrowed from Severus.
"… and therefore, he needs you. He needs the support of the old and established pure-blood families," father carried on, sounding more and more absurd since Regulus knew the truth.
The Dark Lord didn't need any of them, they were all replaceable.
And yet, there was a grain of truth in his father's words... although each and every one of them was replaceable, the Dark Lord needed followers to carry out his evil deeds...
"The Dark Lord needs pure-bloods that are willing to reproduce themselves in order to make their contribution to a strong wizarding community-"
Oh no... Regulus had already known that their conversation would- sooner or later- touch that topic; he was just surprised it had taken quite a time to get to it. Now, all he could do was to steel himself for the lecture that was about to comes. A lecture about responsibility and the need to keep the House of Black pure...
He didn't want to hear any of that.
It was the same old lecture he had already imbibed from his infancy on, and he was sick and tired of hearing it again- on the other hand, Regulus loved his parents and didn't want to disappoint them, even though he already knew that he wouldn't be able to spare them the disappointment if he wanted to live his own life.
Sometimes, it was really hard to be the good son. Sometimes, you simply had to make a choice that wasn't favourable to your parents' wishes- probably that was one essential part in the process of growing up. Sometimes, you just had to speak your mind...
"Yes, father." He chose his words with care. "One day, I will marry. And perhaps that relationship will be graced with children, but-" Regulus had never openly opposed to his father's wishes but now seemed to be such a good opportunity to get started and he didn't want to waste it; the rebellious streak he had borrowed from Sirius flared up again. "I am not the stud horse for the House of Black. Nor will I marry to present the Dark Lord with suitable future followers- I don't want my children to become murderers either. I'm sorry, sir, but when I'm going to marry, I will marry the girl I love and not the one you consider appropriate for me."
He took a deep breath and waited for an angry response of his father, which strangely never came. Astounded, Regulus risked a glance at him.
Orion Black heaved a weary sigh and downed another glass of Ogden's Finest. Apparently, he was actually pondering his son's words instead of ordering him to step back in line and obey, which was a rare experience for Regulus.
He had claimed his independence- but what would it cost him? His parents weren't reserved when it came to... purifying the family tree; he still recalled the very day they had blasted Sirius off...
To his surprise, father made no such attempts now. Instead, Orion rose from his armchair and walked to the staircase, pausing only the fraction of a moment to say good night to his son. Then he went upstairs, leaving Regulus sitting all alone in the abandoned library of Grimmauld Place.
-o-
Father never mentioned their conversation, nor did he blast him off the Black family tree for speaking up his mind. Instead, he took on a nearly possessive effort in warding the Black family home, warding it against Muggles and wizards alike, thus turning it into a nearly impregnable fortress.
It was an effort that seemed to consume him.
Regulus was worried since he knew that his father was of ailing health, but he refused to have another serious conversation with his son. In the end, there was no closure when his father died, leaving him all miserable and yet the sole heir of the Black's fortune and fame.
Thanks to my dearest beta, hypnotic ink.
Reviews are always welcome.