CHAPTER ELEVEN: LUST

Clementine arrived the following day. It was early morning and Regulus had just drifted off to sleep when the two of them were awoken by urgent tapping on the front door. Flora had shifted in her sleep and was laying with her head nearly in Regulus' lap, a cover now wrapped over her and a cushion under her head. She blinked in sleepy confusion as she woke, at first not moving from her position until she realised it was Regulus' legs her arms were latched around and that Regulus' hand was resting on her head. She sat up abruptly, fixing her eyes on him with a confounded look. Regulus was barely awake himself; he rubbed at his face, breathed heavily like he was stifling a yawn, and then focused his sleepy, blurred gaze on Flora. The tapping at the door continued with impatience.

"Flora!"

Flora jumped up at once, taking the blanket with her. "It's Clem," she muttered under her breath as she hurried out of the room.

Regulus remained on the sofa, gathering his bearings. He found a strand of Flora's hair on his knee, which he picked up between his slender fingers and held up to the light for a moment, observing how it glimmered in the early morning sun. The birds were singing outside, the sky clear and blue for another uncommonly nice day. He wasn't listening to the conversation taking place in the other room as Flora let Clementine into the cottage; he was both too sleepy and too bewildered to care what was happening. He was thinking more about what had already happened, missing the warmth of Flora's body beside his. He was forced out of his reverie, however, when Clementine and Flora came into the front room. He straightened up, fixed his clothes, and looked at the two of them with the expectation of hearing something important.

Clementine gave him an odd look at first, eyeing him with what Regulus recognised as distrust and suspicion.

"Remus and Sirius will be here later," Clementine said without taking her eyes off Regulus but speaking only to Flora. "I just came to check you were alright."

"We stayed down here all night," Flora said. "Regulus said we were safe because of the wards. Is that right?"

Clementine nodded, looking now at Flora instead of Regulus. "The wards are fine. I checked them. The pack was close by but it's impossible for them to find the house."

Flora nodded wordlessly, looking slightly comforted now she'd been reassured by somebody other than Regulus. Clementine's eyes drifted back to Regulus, then to Flora. She seemed to want to say something but didn't know how or where to begin.

Regulus, irritated with the scrutiny he was under, stood up and skulked out of the room to go upstairs to the bathroom. The moment Regulus was out of earshot, Clementine turned her full attention to Flora and asked pointedly, "You slept down here with him?"

A blush crept across Flora's cheeks. "Well, um, yeah… we were awake most of the night and just fell asleep."

"How's he been lately?"

Flora shrugged. "He's been better actually. He helps sometimes, dries the dishes, hangs his washing up to dry…"

A genuine look of surprise crossed Clementines's face. "Has he?"

"He's not as rude as he used to be too."

"He's never… never tried to get… familiar with you, has he?" Clementine asked in a lower voice.

Flora's colour deepened. "Clem! No! No, of course not. He keeps a distance most of the time."

Clementine relaxed slightly, nodding. "Because you know, that was my main concern when Sirius told me he was bringing Reg here. I was worried he might… you know, try to take advantage."

Flora vehemently shook her head. "Of me? I'm a muggle. He despises me."

"He can't hate you that much if he slept on the sofa with you."

That wonderful feeling in her stomach resurfaced and sunk again. She had slept next to him all night. Flora looked away, hoping her face did not betray her true feelings.

"Are you telling me I should be wary?" She demanded.

"Well, no," Clementine reconsidered. "But you get why I'm concerned, don't you? A young man locked in a house with a pretty girl…"

"Oh, Clem, stop it," Flora huffed.

"Don't be naïve, Flora."

"I'm not being naïve. He has no interest in me that way."

"Personal interest doesn't always matter for a man," Clementine replied.

"Honestly, Clem. He hasn't done anything but annoy me. He has not, nor will he ever, try anything like that."

"I just don't feel comfortable, for your sake, with him prowling around the house," Clementine reiterated, pushing her long red hair back over one shoulder. The action exposed the creamy cushion of her chest, and Flora suddenly felt quite plain and insignificant beside her, which truly drove home the idea that Regulus could not possibly cultivate any romantic or sexual interest in her. She felt like a little girl next to Clementine.

"He's not prowling around," Flora said, folding her arms. "He's just a guest and he keeps to himself most of the time. And anyway, he was warned from the start that if he tried to harm me in any way, shape or form, he'd have Sirius and Remus to answer to."

"Yeah, well, not just them," Clementine grumbled, now mirroring Flora and also folding her arms. "I could do far worse."

They heard Regulus' steps creaking back down the stairs and swiftly abandoned the conversation, though Clementine still looked unhappy. Flora offered tea and so they moved into the kitchen where Regulus was helping himself to a bowl of cornflakes — possibly the closest thing to a meal he could prepare himself.

"Tea, Regulus?" Flora asked, a little stiffly as she filled the kettle with water at the sink.

"Mm," he grunted in response with a short nod.

Flora glanced at him from the corner of her eye, whereas Clementine was practically staring the boy down with her disapproving gaze.

"I've heard you speak more politely to house elves, Regulus," Clementine said sharply. "Say yes, please."

Flora shut her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply, knowing this would set him off at once. And indeed, Regulus' whole expression morphed from something that was once neutral, if not still half-asleep, to a contemptuous look that caused his brow to darken significantly.

"I wasn't speaking to you," he spat back.

"It's not the way to speak to anyone," Clementine retorted.

"Don't tell me how to speak. You're not my mother," Regulus said petulantly.

"Right, stop it," Flora interjected, spinning around. She was holding a tea spoon and pointed it threateningly at Regulus. "We've gone all week without an argument and—"

"I'm not even arguing with you!" Regulus interrupted, scowling.

"I don't want arguments with anyone," Flora clarified. "Not me, not Clem, nobody."

"I'll have some tea, and thank you for asking," Regulus said, his tone dripping with sarcastic politeness. He shot a nasty look at Clementine.

Clementine rolled her eyes back at him, returning the dark look. Flora made the tea as fast as possible and set it down on the kitchen table. She had just sat down when looked up at the window to sees Remus and Sirius coming up the path; she sighed heavily and pushed her chair out to put the kettle on again.

"Let me," Clementine said quickly, flicking her wand at the kettle. The cupboard also opened by itself and two mugs floated down to the counter, along with two tea bags and two teaspoons.

Flora watched it for a moment, but turned away when Remus tapped on the door and let himself in, flanked by Sirius. Remus looked pale, tired; Flora noticed his shirt was on inside-out when he took his coat off. She got up again and hurried to his side, throwing her arms around his neck loosely.

"Are you alright?" She asked hurriedly.

"Fine," Remus smiled weakly, regarding his little sister with sad fondness. "Are you?"

Flora nodded. There was a lot she wanted to say, and she'd certainly had a lot to say last night. But the fear she felt last night had dissipated in the daytime. She simply answered, "Fine."

Regulus watched Remus and his brother with barely restrained anger on his face. His eyes lingered on the scars across Remus' face before he spoke sharply, addressing the two of them with no preliminaries, "Why was there a pack of werewolves outside the cottage last night?"

"Remus, come sit here," Flora said before any answer could be given. She guided Remus to the chair she had been sitting in before and then sat down in the chair next to Regulus.

Remus pushed his hands through his thick sandy hair and looked at Regulus, whose demanding eyes hadn't moved as he waited for an answer. But Remus didn't have an answer, and nor did Sirius, who leaned against the kitchen counter looking as tired and worried as everyone else.

"I don't know," Remus said.

"You don't know?" Regulus' frown deepened. "Were you not with them?"

"No," Remus fixed his eyes on Regulus more directly, his gaze never wavering. He paused for a long moment, then added, "Not with that particular group. They split off, you see. The pack is large. I didn't know they were there."

There was another long silence. Regulus pressed on though.

"Are they looking for her?" He asked, nodding to Flora.

Flora looked down uncomfortably at the table. Remus opened his mouth to reply quickly, like he was about to deny and put his sister's mind at ease, but then he thought better of it and closed his mouth. He took a long breath, procured a cigarette from his shirt pocket and tapped it on the table. He didn't normally smoke around Flora, and he never smoked in the house as a rule. But he was visibly stressed. Flora lifted her eyes and gave him a short nod, a silent okay. He lit it with a regular lighter, inhaled, sat back in the creaky wooden chair, exhaled. Flora pushed a tea saucer towards him to use as an ash tray.

"I think yes, they are," Remus finally answered after considering his words. There was no gentle way to put it, no way to make it less disturbing. "To tell you the truth, they don't trust me. You're a bargaining chip."

"Oh, thanks very much," Flora muttered dryly.

Remus took another deep breath, flicking the ash off his cigarette onto the floral saucer. "Listen, Flora… I wish I didn't have to drag you into this, but the pack is dangerous. They want leverage against me, to use against the Order. I never wanted to put you in harm's way, but they see you as a way to control me. They think they can use you to manipulate me," he paused a moment, looking at her with a mix of guilt and sympathy. "You have to understand, they're vicious and unpredictable, and they won't hesitate to hurt you if it serves their purpose."

"But how did they know to look over here?" Flora asked with a little more urgency in her voice. "You must have some idea."

Remus gave her a measured, deliberate look as he considered his next words, words he knew that would alarm her.

"Flora, here's the thing," he said, "As a werewolf, despite the magical wards protecting this area, I think I may have unintentionally left a subtle, werewolf-specific scent trail that only another werewolf can pick up on."

Flora stared at him. Clementine looked down at her tea and Sirius watched on wordlessly. Regulus, however, suddenly pushed his chair back with a loud scrape against the floor tiles and fixed his attention on Remus angrily. Sirius seemed to come back to life at this moment, straightening up and taking a small step towards his brother.

"So why the hell are you here? You're just putting her in more danger. And if they find her, they'll find me."

"Regulus—" Sirius started with an undertone of warning to his voice.

"No," Regulus shot a dangerous look at him. "He's putting us in more danger the longer he's here!"

Remus looked at Regulus, his eyes meeting the younger wizard's with a cold glare. He placed his cigarette down in the ashtray, his expression serious.

"I didn't come here to put you and Flora in danger, Regulus," Remus snapped back, his tone laced with frustration. "I came to warn you both, to tell you both the truth. But the wards are powerful. The scent drops if they come near the boundaries."

"They shouldn't even be anywhere near the boundaries!"

"Well, Regulus," Remus shot back, "In case you've forgotten, werewolves do possess an acute sense of smell. They have a natural ability to track scents, and sometimes, even the most well-placed wards can't prevent them from picking up on something as potent as a werewolf's scent."

"I want my wand back," he suddenly demanded. "If those werewolves had found and attacked us last night, there's nothing I could've done."

A collective silence fell over the room again. Clementine looked like she wanted to speak, but she said nothing; Flora simply stared at the table. Sirius looked between Remus and his brother, then moved towards him, close at his side.

"He's right," Sirius said in a calm voice. "If the worst happened… he has nothing to defend himself or Flora with."

"What's to say he won't turn it on Flora?" Remus objected.

"I would never harm her," Regulus said firmly, his voice low and sincere. But Remus was unconvinced. His trust in Regulus was fragile.

"How can I trust that, Regulus? You were a Death Eater once. That mark on your arm says enough."

Regulus' anger flared at this, his voice raising suddenly. "And what of the marks on my back? I defied the Dark Lord and nearly died for it. Is that not enough?"

"Reg…" Sirius touched his younger brother's elbow, but Regulus drew away sharply. He looked at Flora now as he spoke. Her eyes met his.

"I swear on my life, I wouldn't ever hurt her."

He meant it. In truth, Regulus had been more concerned for Flora's safety than his own when Remus revealed the danger they were in.

"I think he should have his wand too," Flora said after a moment, turning to look at Remus. "I trust him."

Remus' gaze switched to Flora, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. Clementine, sitting opposite, took a breath. "I'm with you, Remus. I'm sorry, but I don't trust him."

Regulus was about to argue, but Flora spoke first. And she spoke heatedly. "What difference does it make? If Regulus was dangerous, he wouldn't need magic to harm me. Any man could harm me, magic or not. Yes, he's a bit of a dick and unpleasant to be around most of the time, but he's never deliberately hurt me."

Remus looked from Flora to Regulus, then briefly at Clementine who looked conflicted. They all knew Flora was right and there was no refuting it. To really drive her point home, Flora rose from the table and went into the living room to retrieve the newspaper. She threw it down under Remus' nose.

"The Yorkshire Ripper. He's not a wizard, is he? All he does is hit women on the back of the head with a hammer. A magic wand is not a prerequisite for physical harm. If Regulus wanted to hurt me, even with your vague threats, he would've certainly found a way to do it already."

Remus glanced at the newspaper with discomfort. The muggle serial killer was a major topic of conversation even among parts of the wizarding world. He knew Flora had a valid point and his resolve was weakening as her logic unwound it. He looked at Regulus and was struck by the vulnerability and gratitude in his face, gratitude that was clearly directed at Flora.

Remus sat back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. "Fine," he conceded in a low voice. "But we have to go through the Order to get it back. It could take a while."

"How long?" Regulus asked.

"Weeks," Clementine answered icily.

"I'll see to it," Sirius put in quickly.

When everyone left later that afternoon, Flora went outside to tend to the garden. It was chilly but still bright and sunny. She set to work cutting back an overgrown shrub in her herb patch, which was now mostly dead, while also planning to later rake up the leaves that had fallen. She became absorbed in her work, listening to the birds in the trees above, when she became aware of Regulus standing behind her. She blinked, wondering whether she was imagining things or if he really was holding two cups of tea in his hands.

"What are you…" she trailed off as he came closer and offered the steaming mug to her.

"I made tea," he said, looking rather pleased with himself.

Flora took the mug and looked down in surprise at a rather perfect-looking cup of tea. She lifted her gaze back to Regulus, unable to hide the confusion on her face.

"I, uh, I asked Sirius how to make tea before he left," Regulus admitted rather sheepishly.

"Thank you," she said finally, bringing it to her lips. She blew off the steam and took a small sip. It was sweeter than she liked, but it was good enough compared to his first try at making tea.

Regulus watched her closely. "Is it okay?" He asked with unveiled hope in his voice.

Flora nodded. She smiled a little. "Yes, thank you… but why—"

"I," he began, cutting her off in his anticipation of her question, "I just… wanted to do something nice for you, for once…"

Flora stared at him. "Have you poisoned this? Did I speak too soon?"

Regulus smiled a rare smile that showed his dimples, and looked down at the leaves. "There is no poison, I can assure you."

Flora lifted the cup to her lips and took another sip, holding back any response. The corners of her mouth twitched as if resisting a smile. There was a playful air about him presently, something which dissipated the previous tension that underpinned most of their interactions. He seemed relaxed. His eyes flickered up and down her briefly.

Flora met his gaze, lowering her mug. A strange sense of warmth filled her chest, an unexpected feeling of comfort and affection. She hadn't expected this side of Regulus, his vulnerability and thoughtfulness.

"Well," she said finally, her voice tender, "I must say, I'm quite impressed. It's much better than that fish water you made last time."

A mix of embarrassed pleasure and surprise flitted across his face at her praise. "It's the least I could do…" he murmured.

A small laugh escaped Flora's lips, her smile widening. "Perhaps there's hope for you yet," she teased. "And… thank you for staying with me last night. I know we were safe but… and I can't believe I'm saying this, it was a comfort to sit with you."

"I'd stay up with you any night," he said without thinking. His cheeks went pink and he quickly looked away, a feeling of mortification creeping up his neck.

Flora's eyes widened at Regulus' unexpected response. Her heartbeat quickened, her face flushing with warmth. The sincerity in his voice coupled with the vulnerability in his eyes stirred those butterflies in her stomach again. She hesitated a moment, unsure of how to respond.

"Oh... well, I appreciate that, Regulus," she managed to find her voice to speak, her voice laced with a hint of uncertainty. "But I…I'm sure that won't be necessary."

Regulus met her gaze again, his expression suddenly guarded. "Of course," he said quickly, trying to hide the disappointment that flashed across his face. "It won't."

He fidgeted awkwardly, feeling somewhat foolish for his impulsive confession, rubbing his thumb along the curve of the cup's handle. Flora watched his thumb for a moment before forcing her eyes away, looking at the tree shrub blankly. The silence between them was heavy, both painfully aware of the unspoken words floating between them, the unspoken feelings that had been ignited. Flora took another sip of her sweet tea, hoping it would somehow soothe her racing heart.

"I… I think I'll, um, go back inside," Regulus said finally. "It's cold."

"Yes."

"Are you… staying out here?"

"For a little while, yes," Flora replied. "I want to cut this tree back and tidy up the leaves."

Regulus nodded, looking at the small tree in question and all the wet leaves scattered across the grass. "When I have my wand back, I can help you with that sort of thing," he offered.

Flora smiled and looked at him again, nodding. "Thank you, Regulus."

He nodded back. He lingered a moment longer, then remembered he had said he was going back inside. "Okay, well… okay…" he shuffled off back to the cottage, leaving Flora bemused and mystified.

As Regulus disappeared through the front door, shutting it behind him, Flora turned her attention back to the tree in front of her. She released a long breath she didn't realise she'd been holding, the weight of their unspoken words still lingering in the air. She shook her head slightly, pushing the thoughts aside to instead focus on her task at hand.

Regulus retreated to the sanctuary of his bedroom, put his tea aside, and flopped down on his bed, frustration and confusion coursing through him. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind replaying the strange yet oddly significant moment between them. He shut his eyes and his thoughts wandered back to last night, to the memory of her swaying in the firelight to the music, her warmth next to him on the sofa, the sensuality of it all. Desire coiled in his stomach. His breath hitched. He exhaled, watching as a vision of her danced across his eyelids, inviting him closer with parted lips. His body responded as his desire heightened, and his imagination took over completely.