Written for round four of the Ultimate OTP competition (main entry, Muggle!AU) and the Off the Block Competition (Backstroke, Extra Hard, write an AU with the genre angst)
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You see him outside of school, staring up at the iron gates with a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips. You know who he is, his reputation. Everyone in the city has heard whispers that the Black family is in league with the infamous Death Eater gang, even if your father and all the other policemen in town can't obtain solid evidence.
You know you should keep going. Be a good boy, Barty. Steer clear of that boy who is nothing but trouble. But your feet have other plans, and they guide you directly in front of him.
"Too cool for school?" you ask, your voice awkward and barely a whisper. You wince. It had sounded so much better in your head.
Regulus smirks. "Something like that," he laughs, blowing smoking in your face. "Not thinking about skiving off, are you, Crouch?"
"N-no. Of course not."
His smirk only broadens. "Didn't think so," he says, dropping the cigarette to the pavement.
"You shouldn't litter."
"You shouldn't worry about what I do. Run along, little Crouch. Wouldn't want to be late, would you?"
.
"Mrs. Hooch said she saw you talking to Regulus Black," Father says over dinner.
"I was merely telling him he should get to class," you mutter, scraping your fork over your plate absently.
"Best not to bother. That boy is bad news, Barty. Not worth your time."
"Yes, Father."
.
His eyes meet yours as you pass him on your way to school. You're certain you seem him smile, and even more certain that you feel his eyes on your back as you walk past.
.
"Are you really in a gang?" you ask before you can stop yourself.
Regulus narrows his eyes, his handsome face becoming dark. "Your daddy tell you to ask me that?"
"He told me to stay away from you, actually."
With a laugh, he tucks a cigarette between his lips. God, why do you envy that filter so?
"I'll answer your question on one condition."
"What's that?"
"Join me."
Your heart skips a beat. It's practically a confession. More, though, it's an invitation, an invitation you ought to refuse. "Why would you want that?"
"I'm curious. Do you always do what your daddy tells you, little Crouch? Am I imagining that darkness in your eyes? Hmm?"
"I'll think about it."
"Meet me by the docks at midnight. If you don't show, well, you'll never know."
.
You place a hand over your chest as though that can somehow muffle the sound of your rapidly pounding heart. You should go home. You should forget about Regulus and this ridiculous gang nonsense. That's for your father to deal with. Not you.
"I didn't think you'd come," Regulus says, emerging from the shadows, his face half hidden by a hood.
"Neither did I," you admit.
He chuckles. "Well?"
"Okay."
.
Getting in isn't easy. You're beaten mercilessly until you're afraid you might pass out from the pain. You taste blood in your mouth from biting the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming.
And then it's over.
"Didn't even cry," a boy with long blond hair says, letting out an impressed whistle. "Reg nearly pissed himself when he was let in."
"Shut up, Lucius," Regulus grumbles, grabbing your arm and jerking you to your feet. "Welcome to the Death Eaters. Remember, the only way out now is in a grave."
You shudder but nod.
Regulus' face softens, and his hand relaxes on your arm. "You did well."
.
"Where are you going?" your father asks.
"I have a report due tomorrow. Pulling an all-nighter with some friends."
He studies you for a moment, but he doesn't question it. You are a good boy, after all. Why on earth would he need to worry about what you're up to?
.
"What are we doing, then? Robbing little old ladies? Selling drugs to small children?"
Regulus rolls his eyes. "This isn't an initiation," he says. "I called you here, not Lord."
You don't know whether you're more relieved or confused. "You? Why?"
"Because it's easier to do this in private," he answers before kissing you.
He tastes like menthol and tobacco. It should disgust, but somehow it tastes like heaven.
"That was-"
"Shut up," he mutters, pulling you in for another kiss.
.
Your knuckles are bruised and bloody from a fight with a rival Phoenix gang member. You'll probably have a black eye in the morning, and you'll have to explain it to your father somehow.
But Regulus lets out a triumphant whoop and passes you a bottle of vodka, and nothing else seems to matter.
.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" your father demands. "You've been fighting. You missed school yesterday. I want answers."
"Barty," your mother sighs.
"Not now, Judith. I'm waiting, Barty."
"It won't happen again, sir."
"See that it doesn't."
.
Regulus holds your hand as the needle tattoos black ink into your back. You grit your teeth, trying to focus on him and not the pain.
"You're the real deal now," he says when Lord sets the tattoo gun to the side. "Bona fide Death Eater."
His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a grin playing at his lips. You smile back because you've never felt so alive.
.
"Murder?" Regulus asks uncomfortably.
His cousin nods, slamming her palms against the table. "The Phoenix bastard, Mad-Eye, has taken Rosier from us," she hisses. "Fair is fair."
"I dunno, Bella. That's a bit much for me."
You shrink back on Regulus' behalf. Bellatrix Black is insane at best, and you wonder if Regulus might be a bit unstable himself to question her.
"You think we're just going to sit back, drink tea, and braid our hair? Is this a game to you, Regulus?"
"Of course not, but-"
"And you, Crouch? Ready to prove yourself?"
"Yes."
Regulus meets your gaze, a flicker of shock in his grey eyes. But he remains silent as he shifts his attention to his clasped hands.
.
"Are you insane? This is a person's life we're talking about here!" Regulus hisses.
"Cold feet?"
He glares, and you almost regret your jab. "Who are you?"
"You know who I am."
"I'm beginning to wonder."
Anger heats your body, and you shove him. "What's that supposed to mean? You're the one who brought me into this, remember?" you snap, hands balling into fists.
He doesn't rise to the challenge. Instead, he places his palms on either side of your face, kissing you gently. "I wish I hadn't. I wish you'd brought me out of it."
"Only way out is in a grave, remember."
He laughs bitterly. "Yeah. I remember."
.
"Where's Regulus?" Bella asks.
"I thought he'dbe with you," you say with a frown.
Had he backed out? You know that he hadn't wanted to be involved, but you'd assumed he'd get over it.
"Doesn't matter," she growls, shaking her head. "We have work to do."
.
It takes almost an hour to wash Frank and Alice's blood from your body. Even when you emerge from the shower, you're still certain that you feel the sticky crimson liquid on your skin, though there's nothing there.
"You did good," Bellatrix says, tossing you a clean shirt. "I'm impressed."
.
"This was left for you," your father says, handing you an envelope with just your name.
There's no return address, but you recognize Regulus' elegant handwriting immediately.
.
Dearest Barty,
I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I'm doing. I'm sorry for what I've done to you.
You don't deserve this life. I was selfish and dragged you down with me because I wanted to get close to you, even if it meant forcing my world on you. That was a lonely boy's mistake.
I hope you know that I do love you. Even if I don't love what you've become, what I've made you. I pray that the old you is still left inside.
Don't think too poorly of me for my choice. The only way out is in a grave, and I'll be damned if I let them have that pleasure.
Yours always,
Regulus
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"The body of Regulus Black, eighteen, was found washed up on the shore last night," the reporter says with forced emotion. "Foul play has not been ruled out, though sources say they believe that Black may have jumped to his death."
"Good riddance," Father mumbles. "One less scum bag to chase down."
You start to answer, but you're spared by a knock at the door. "I'll get it," you say, climbing to your feet and hurrying across the room.
Two policemen wait for you. "Barty Crouch Jr., you are under arrest for the murders of Frank Longbottom and Alice Fortescue."
You can't help but to laugh.