Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, and I'm merely allowed to play around with them. No copyright infringement is intended.
Yay! Another 'full Regulus' chapter! I enjoy writing those as they give us a glimpse of what being a Death Eater is like… Anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoy, as always, please review! :)
Chapter 17
-o-O-o-
Regulus listened to Macnair blabber on for a few minutes before interrupting him: "So, where are we going?"
He grinned, flicking his wrist so his wand ended up in his hand. "We're going to have some fun." he said.
They walked down the dark alley for a few more minutes before Regulus asked: "What kind of fun?" He had a hunch on what it might be, but wanted to make sure.
"Oh, amazing fun." Macnair chuckled. "We'll start with Muggles, they're weaker and easier to manipulate. Oh, I almost forgot!" He stopped dead on his tracks, and the younger man did too. He looked at his partner questioningly. "Give me your wand."
Regulus took a step back, unsure. "Why?" he asked cautiously.
Macnair just held out his hand at him, waiting. "You are not to ask questions. I am the senior member of this party and therefore you must respect me. Understand?" Regulus nodded stiffly, not at all happy about the situation. "Good. Now pass me your wand."
Regulus did as he was told, glaring at the floor as if it was its entire fault. Macnair took it and muttered a few spells. The wand glowed with a strange greyish green colour before he handed it back. Regulus took it and asked: "What have you done with it?"
Macnair, obviously proud that he had mastered the spell, couldn't help but boast: "I made it Untraceable. No spell that you will ever cast will ever trace back to the ministry. It's as if your wand was unregistered."
Regulus nodded, stowed his wand back in his cloak pocket and the two men started walking again. Macnair began ranting about that witch whose hair he had burned and whose toes he had boiled while Regulus lost himself in his thoughts. Unregistered wands were illegal and very expensive on the black market. His wand was registered, technically, as he had bought it at Ollivander's.
He smiled at the memory. Macnair thought that it was his story that was making the rookie smile so much so he put in: "Don't worry, you'll be able to do it soon enough!"
Regulus muttered a "Yeah, yeah." as he replayed the scene inside his head.
"Maybe you're a Squib after all, Reg!" Sirius taunted his brother as his seventeenth attempt to find a wand failed.
"No I'm not!" Regulus yelled. "I am not a Squib!" He has tears of rage in his eyes as Ollivander came back from his storage place, carrying a box.
Regulus sniffled and wiped his eyes on his sleeve as Walburga scolded: "Sirius! Stop winding up your little brother like that! He will find a wand and will upload our family tradition, unlike you, you worthless piece of scum!"
The wandmaker ignored the endless ranting of the Black matron and passed the box on to her youngest son. "Here." he whispered soothingly. "This one is very special. It holds tremendous power. Twelve and a half inches, English oak, dragon heartstring. Reasonably supple." He pulled the wand out of its box and placed it in the small boy's hand.
He straightened as Regulus stared in awe at the piece of wood in his hand. It was truly beautiful. He turned it around to examine each aspect of the reddish-brown wand, finding it absolutely flawless. He waved it once, and immediately felt its reaction. Intense, but not unpleasant, warmth started at his heart, spreading through his arm and out through the tip of the wand, forming a shower of green sparks.
Sirius stared at his brother, mouth gaping open like that of a fish out of the water. Regulus grinned and Ollivander chuckled. "Well," he said. "It looks like that will be seventeen Galleons."
After his mother had paid for the wand, they left the shop, and not even Sirius had something to say. Regulus' hand clenched around it, relishing the somehow warm feeling he found there, as if the material was alive. The wand felt good in his hand, as if it had been made to fit there.
It was really and truly his.
And for the first, but not the last, time in his life, Regulus sneered in superiority.
And now, over five years later, Regulus sneered again, his nose up and his eyebrow arched delicately like only he could do it, as they rounded a corner. Macnair had stopped talking, he noticed, and was glad for it. They entered a Muggle house and climbed up the stairs.
Suddenly, Regulus felt slightly sick. He no longer wanted to be on this expedition. As they climbed some stairs, he whispered: "Are you sure the Dark Lord's alright with this?"
Macnair stopped and turned around to face him, a sloppy grin on his face. "He's the one that commanded me to bring you along." he reminded him. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?" Macnair chuckled at his partner fright, obviously amused.
Regulus glared at him. "No, of course not. Me? Back out? You've gotta be pulling my leg." Macnair snorted and they stared climbing the stairs some more. They ended up in a corridor, leading to four different doors. "Great." Regulus mumbled. "How do we know which one's the right one?"
Macnair shushed him, placing his index finger on his lips. They stayed like that for a few minutes until they heard a snore come from the door directly on their left. He grinned. "That's how you do it." he whispered, before pulling the door open.
A middle aged man was sleeping on his bed, curled around a woman, one who was probably his wife. She had long, dark auburn hair that spread across the man's chest as she breathed evenly, evidently deep in her slumber. The man's arm was slung around her waist, pressing her towards his rather large belly. His practically bald head rested peacefully on his pillow and he emitted a snore every now and then, sometimes making the bed quiver.
Macnair laughed. "Let's wake them up, shall we?" he told Regulus. Before the latter could answer, he continued. "The Cruciatus curse should do the job, don't you think? You take the man, I'll take the woman."
They placed each other on opposite sides of the bed, wands pointed at their victims. Macnair held up his hand. When he let it down, both men yelled: "Crucio!" The Muggles' eyes shot open and blood curling screams echoed around the house. Regulus, feeling sick, looked up at Macnair, only to find him giggling uncontrollably. They held the curse for a couple of minutes, before they signalled each other and broke it.
Macnair was still laughing as the Muggles inhaled. Both started sobbing. Regulus was doing whatever he could to stop himself from running from the house. When he had calmed down slightly, Macnair glared at the shaking couple. "You're going to pay." he told them, hatred in his voice.
The man shook and turned to the two Death Eaters. "For what?" he asked. "We haven't done anything? What sort of spell did you put us under?"
Macnair gave an evil smile, displaying his crooked teeth. "For bestowing your filthy presence upon the ground that rightfully belongs to us." he sneered.
The man sat up. "Listen here, son-" But he never got to finish his sentence.
Macnair swished his wand and the man gulped. He fell off the bed and onto the floor, his head detaching itself from the rest in the process. The woman screamed as her husband's body gave a sharp jerk without its brain's command and started to devoid itself of all its blood.
Regulus watched as the thick, dark red liquid poured from the corpse with loud glug sounds. Blood poured all over the floorboard, forming a uniform stain that expanded rapidly. The head's eyes were fixed in nothingness, the two light blue orbs dull in death.
The woman was still screaming her head off, trying to back away from Macnair, who was advancing slowly, a hungry look in his eye. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly towards him. He unbuckled his belt and threw it carelessly in the growing pool of blood, before pulling his, now tented, trousers down.
The woman's yells grew louder as Macnair waved his wand to tie her hands, leaving his to grab her hips forcefully. Regulus couldn't stand it anymore. "I'm going to find Snape!" he called out.
Macnair grunted, whether in approval or arousal Regulus didn't know, but he turned his back around and left the room. Somewhere around halfway down the stairs, the woman let out an even shriller scream and the house was now filled with her yells and Macnair's pig-like groans. Regulus accemerated his pace, screwing his eyes shut in horror.
As his feet hit the pavement, Regulus bent over and retched. His abdomen convulsed and he spit out all he had eaten in the last five hours. 'He killed him.' he thought. 'He killed him and he's raping her while I'm just puking here, useless.'
As the last few drops left his mouth, he felt his body being wracked with sobs. He was truly a sore sight; kneeling on the sidewalk, hands on either side of his thrown up supper, crying helplessly. Because, truly no one could help him. If he backed out now, he would be killed, and so would be his mother and father, and possibly all those he cared for.
His mind wondered to Hermione. 'Don't do anything stupid.' It was too late now, he though, laughing ironically at the situation. He was in it for life. And there was nothing either of them could do about it.
It took a few minutes for him to calm down, but he eventually did. He coughed a little bit before standing back up. After muttering a siphoning charm to his mouth and Vanishing the mess he'd made on the pavement, he set off to find Snape. It shouldn't take much time, if he used a location charm.
Pointing his wand to his wand, he whispered "Point me." The wand twirled in his hands for a few seconds, before showing him down the street on his right. He followed his wand's indications until they brought him to a strip club. He groaned and cursed Snape under his breath for choosing such a place before entering. It took a couple of Confundus charms on the body guards, but he managed in one piece.
The loudness of the music startled his for a couple of seconds as he looked around the place. Women in very flimsy underwear were dancing all around the place, whether on stages or inside huge cages, with man cheering all around. There was a bar in the bar of the club, with an all too recognisable black cloaked and greasy haired figure.
Regulus walked over to the bar and sat down in the empty chair next to Snape. "Good evening Severus." he greeted him. "Fancy seeing you here."
Snape had a nearly empty glass of whiskey in front of him, and his eyes looked glazed. "Regulus." he acknowledged his presence, his voice slightly slurred with alcohol that ran in his system. He turned and looked over at his younger colleague. "Where's Macnair?"
A young woman in a bunny suit came up to him and asked: "What would the handsome mister like for a drink?" she asked with a voice as sweet as honey.
She was wearing the sexiest look he'd ever seen on a girl's face, so he did his best to impress her. "Scotch on rocks, please." he asked with his famous smirk and a wink. She giggled, turning around and, just for the fun, and pinched her backside. Feeling marginally better than when he left the house, he turned back to Snape. "You were saying?" he asked.
Snape shook his head, disbelieving. "You're a sly dog." he commented, before downing the rest of his drink. The ice cubes clinked against the glass as it hit the wood of the table.
Regulus shook his head too, snorting lightly. "Macnair is one much more than me. I mean, all I did was touch her arse. He'd be shagging her senseless by now." Snape nodded in agreement. "The only reason why he's not," Regulus continued. "Is because he's already occupied with another."
Snape shook his head again. "I don't believe it. He was supposed to let you do it." he said angrily as the woman came back with a glass, full to the brim with scotch and ice. Regulus retained himself from telling him he wouldn't have done it anyway.
She smiled at him. "It's on the house." she declared breathily, winking at him like he had done earlier.
"Thanks babe." Regulus said, taking a large gulp of him drink. She gave a slight giggle and turned her back to some other table full of drunkards. When she had left, he turned back to Snape.
He was staring at him. "Did he let you do anything at all?"
Regulus shrugged and drank some more. "Not really." he admitted, holding his glass in both of his hands, turning it slightly. "He just let me wake the man up. Then the dude complain and Macnair got tired of him, so he killed him, then he had it his way with his wife. It's about it."
Snape banged his fist on the table. "The Dark Lord will hear about this!" he declared. "You were supposed to kill at least one! But no, Macnair's cock just comes before anyone else! I mean, why couldn't the Dark Lord choose me to initiate you to that? At least I can hold it in! He whips his out faster than a sheriff does his gun in the West!"
Regulus downed the remaining scotch in his glass and, shivering at the taste, turned to look at Snape. "If you want, I could lend you money and you can have your fun." he said. "You don't even have to repay me."
Snape shook his head. "As much as I'd like to accept your offer, I've got to be back at Hogwarts by tomorrow morning, just like you do. I need to bring you back anyway." He left some change on the table, and both Death Eaters stood up, walking towards the exit. "However," he added, grinning. "I wouldn't say no if your offer still holds this weekend. I've been short on money lately."
As they walked out the club, Regulus told him: "No problem. Since Sirius got disinherited, I've got a couple million, if not more, all to myself, and I can certainly spare a couple Sickles." Snape snorted, running a hand through his greasy hair.
The two men walked to find a proper alley to Disapparate, landing in front of the Three Broomsticks. Snape and Regulus both pulled broomsticks out of their cloak pockets and flew over to the great wooden front door of the school. They both got back to the Common Room in one piece and bid each other goodnight before heading into their separate dormitories.
Regulus changed and slipped into his bed. However, as soon as he closed his eyes, he could see the man's head fall hard and lifeless against the floorboard, smell the sickening and heavy stench of blood inside the room and hear the woman's shrill, panicked screams. Whenever he did fall asleep, he was woken up by an image of someone he cared about being tortured right before his eyes and jerked upright, covered in sweat and tears. Five times during the rest of the night he was awakened because of that.
And, mysteriously, four of those five times, Hermione was the one writhing on the floor in some unknown dungeon, bathing in a growing pool of blood as he was chained to the wall, only able to stare in disgust and horror.
-o-O-o-
Nobody found out Regulus was having a bad night's sleep, which is weird, because I thought it might have been pretty obvious… Anyway, I'm really sorry, but after I wrote this, my inspiration disappeared in a cloud of smoke and so I'm trying to find it… Basically, the next update might be slightly late… Sorry. On another note, this week is the last week of class before two weeks of holidays, and that, hopefully, means regular updates. :) Anyway, I hope you all had a nice weekend! Please review! Bye!
Fun fact: The wand I described as Regulus' is actually the one I have on Pottermore. :p True story.
Next Chapter: The next day, and what follows.