Chapter Twenty-Two: Fireworks
Making love with you
Has left me peaceful, warm, and tired
What more could I ask
There's nothing left to be desired
Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak
- The Air That I Breathe, The Hollies
Flora awoke late the following morning. Half dizzy and thirsty, wondering vaguely why she had slept in her underwear, she had forgotten Regulus was there next to her until she felt his leg brush against hers. In fact, as she stirred, he did also; he rolled onto his side and into Flora's back, wrapping an arm around her waist. It took Flora a moment to realise his erection was pressed up against her leg, and with that a recollection of last night flooded her mind.
It wasn't quite guilt or regret, but a feeling of disbelief and embarrassment that curdled her stomach. Everything she knew about boys and sex was muddled in her her mind. Her brother's protective warnings came back to her—boys only want one thing. She then remembered a girl at her school—Jackie Turnbull—who was rumoured to have given boys blow-jobs and hand-jobs behind the school bins in exchange for various things. Flora never knew how much truth there was to it, but she had once overheard a conversation between Jackie and some other girls— 'you have to go deep and swallow if you can. Boys like it if you swallow.' Flora had felt both intrigued and disgusted, but realised now that Jackie's words had stuck somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind. But Regulus had liked it, so clearly Jackie had been right.
But then she also wondered if Remus was right, and that was surely not good. The fact Regulus had fallen asleep immediately after only unsettled her more; she felt discarded, used, and yet she knew she would do it again simply because she didn't want him to lose interest in her.
Flora turned to face Regulus, slowly waking him as she curled up closer to his bare chest—she wondered at what point he had taken his shirt off, because she remembered him wearing it when they came into her room. He was just in his underwear, like her. Regulus tightened his hold on her and nuzzled his chin on top of her head, yawning. Flora wasn't entirely sure why, but she had expected him to move away, to jolt back like he'd woken up with something that was now hideous in the sobriety of the morning light. But he didn't; he held her tenderly close. Flora pretended to still be asleep, but she could tell from his breathing that Regulus was fully awake and probably going over his own thoughts from last night.
He kissed the top of her head. Flora's heart fluttered, endeared because Regulus thought she was sleeping and had kissed her anyway. Maybe he did like her, then. It made the feelings of embarrassment and uncertainty melt away at once. She stayed still, listening to his heartbeat, a soft cough as he cleared his throat, swallowing, the sound of his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. She took in a breath through her nose, breathing in the smell of his skin—musk, sweat, cologne, and a faint scent of fire whiskey. Likewise, Regulus breathed her in, feeling a peculiar sense of peace as he held her in his arms.
Finally, Flora pretended to be just waking up and lifted her face to look at him through half lidded eyes, sleepily searching for his lips. Regulus quickly met them. They both knew they didn't sell particularly fresh, but neither cared.
"Good morning," Regulus murmured in a gravelly voice.
"Morning," she replied softly, wrapping her leg around his and pulling herself closer. She didn't think she could ever get close enough to Regulus. His penis, shameless and proud, was still pressed against her thigh. She wanted suddenly to touch it again. But Regulus was already touching her, trailing his fingers down her back, over the top of her thighs, her hips.
"I didn't mean to fall asleep last night," he said in a low voice. "I am so sorry."
He sounded almost mortified, as though he had forgotten his dinner manners and done something terribly rude. Flora's previous doubts melted away entirely, replaced instead with relief and a willingness to forgive.
"I must have really done something good," she joked lightly. "To knock you out like that."
She felt his lips twitch upwards in a smile as he kissed her. "Mhm," he agreed, "I don't know what you did, but it was incredible."
He moved his hands back up and cradled the sides of her head between them as he continued to press kisses to her mouth. Flora sighed softly, her hands wandering over the planes of his chest; she tried to avoid touching the scars on his shoulders and torso, but he didn't seem to mind whenever her fingers drifted over them. Her hand slid down lower and slipped into his underwear, making him groan as she began to rub his stiff cock in her small hand. In doing this, she felt her own arousal building, and Regulus very quickly reciprocated the favour she was doing him by slipping his hand between her thighs.
He at first only touched her over her knickers, breaking their kiss for a moment to look at her and ask again, "Is this okay?"
Flora nodded. She felt that every time he asked this, he was really asking both her and himself if what they were doing was okay. Flora was perfectly okay with being touched; she craved it, desired it above anything else, but Regulus' touch was always with trepidation, a question of consent, doubts, always with the utterance, is this okay? Is it okay that I touch you? Each time he asked for permission, Flora felt there was a deeper question hidden behind it, as if he were questioning himself more than her. Propriety was one thing, and Flora appreciated the fact he asked, but she could see in his eyes that he was holding something back.
She parted her legs more for him, giving him wordless encouragement. She was still rubbing him with her hand, but he caught hold of her wrist and stilled it.
"It's my turn, remember?" He murmured. "I fell asleep on you."
Flora blinked. "Don't you want me to—"
He peppered her neck with open-mouthed kisses, shook his head lazily. "As much as I enjoy it, no. I want to make you feel good."
His hand slipped back down between her legs, rubbing her in a gentle circular motion with his finger. "You're so wet," he mumbled against her neck. His lips drew lower, down to her chest.
A soft gasp escaped Flora's lips as he said this, aroused equally by his words as she was by his touch. She grasped his hair in handfuls, watching as his mouth moved to kiss her nipples over the fabric of her bra.
"Take this off," he muttered. His free hand was touching the white bow in the centre between her breasts, which then drifted to the straps and then sides as he tried to work it out himself.
Flora sat up a little, reaching behind her to unclasp it. "It unfastens at the back," she mumbled a little pointlessly.
As soon as she'd slipped it off and tossed it aside, both his hands and his mouth were on her naked breasts. He kissed and sucked on her nipples, eliciting a low, drawn out breath from Flora. She was half-sitting up, propped up against her pillow, and Regulus was on his side. He moved his mouth away and lifted his eyes to meet hers. She looked down, first at his eyes and then at her flushed nipples where he'd been kissing her.
"Lay back," he instructed, sitting up on his knees.
Flora slid down so she was on her back, watching him intently as he settled between her legs, his arms on either side of her. She brought her hands up to feel the small, defined muscles of his forearms, then wrapped her arms around his neck as he dipped down to kiss her on the mouth. His tongue slipped into her mouth, moving with hers slowly.
This was no fantasy. It was real, and the reality of it was jarring to both of them when they thought about what they were doing. Regulus knew he was lost; he had fallen for this girl and it gave him immense pleasure to see the curious delight on her beautiful, flushed face as he moved down, kissing her navel, her thighs, until he was down between her legs. Without asking, he hooked his fingers under the sides of her knickers and pulled them down; Flora sat up on her elbows, speaking suddenly, her voice low and urgent.
"Take off your underwear too," she said. They must be equals in this space, even if Regulus did decide to abandon her later.
Regulus gave her a lopsided little smirk and sat back on his heels to rather awkwardly tug his boxers off. His cock stood up amongst a shadow of dark hair. When they were both naked, he got back down between her open thighs. She was wet, spread, yielding to him. For a moment, Regulus simply admired her, teasing her clit with his fingers. Flora gasped out; her whole body felt pleasantly warm, as if it were glowing with her desire.
"You look lovely like this, darling," he murmured.
"Regulus—"
He'd called her darling once before simply to rile her up, but she'd had clothes on that time and she'd been angry with him. Her response though, just like before, was to flush to her ears, and this time she had no desire to deflect his attention.
He resumed his gentle caressing kisses along her inner thigh, his hands stroking her skin teasingly. And then he brought his tongue to her cunt, licking in one long, slow motion before bringing his attention to the little bundle of nerves waiting in anticipation of his tongue. Flora's hand flew back to his hair, which she grasped tightly by the fist as she melted against his mouth. She had never felt anything like this.
"Regulus," she gasped out his name again. "Oh my god."
He softly pressed his fingers into her thighs, holding her in place, and kept going as the pleasure unfurled and blossomed in Flora's belly. It felt like a coil slowly getting tighter and tighter. She opened her eyes for a moment to watch him, and saw that he was also pleasuring himself as he ravished her with his tongue. His hand was moving up and down, his wrist twisting slightly.
She was riding her pleasure to the top now, knowing any moment she was going to go over the edge. She kept grasping, pulling at his hair, whimpering his name. Regulus lifted his eyes to look at her, admiring her flushed face, her fluttering eyelids.
"Use your fingers," she breathed out, opening her eyes.
Regulus looked slightly surprised for a moment, then began to gently circle her entrance with the fingers of his free hand.
"No," Flora moaned, "Put them in."
"In?"
She nodded. Regulus obeyed, sliding one finger in as he continued to lick and suck her clit. She so was warm, so wet. He pushed only half his finger in, hesitant to push deeper for fear of hurting her. But Flora pushed herself down onto his finger, wanting more. Her sudden movement momentarily pushed Regulus back, but he quickly resumed, then added a second finger and moved them in and out, curling them slightly every time he pushed back in. He was so focused on the mouth and finger gymnastics he was doing that he stopped pleasuring himself for the moment, intent only on bringing Flora to orgasm. She was fast approaching the release she needed.
"Regulus," she reached down and touched his jawline, his cheek, making him lift his face. Her expression implored him to move back up to kiss her; without removing his fingers from inside her, he came back up and kissed her deeply. Flora could taste herself on his mouth. As he kissed her mouth and fingered her, she brought her hand back down to his cock and fucked him into her fist.
"Oh, fuck—" Regulus moaned softly, cupping her face with his hand. "Come for me, darling… I want to see your face when you come."
Flora shut her eyes, resting her cheek in the palm of his hand. Regulus had long slim fingers, fingers which he could use to both hold her tenderly and pleasure her until she was weak. She could feel herself getting close. The walls of her cunt were twitching, and then suddenly she knew she couldn't hold on a moment longer. Intense, perfect pleasure possessed her body, washing over her like a warm wave. The coil in her lower belly unsprung, and she cried out, feeling nothing but pure, all-consuming bliss.
Her hand had stopped caressing Regulus as she orgasmed, but he spilled out over her hand at the same time anyway. Flora never saw it happen. She only noticed the evidence of it afterwards when she glanced down at her stomach; it dripped into her belly button and down over her navel. The rest was all over his hand and glistening over his stomach.
Neither spoke for a long moment. They simply held one another, gathering their senses and breath, and then Regulus planted a small kiss on Flora's forehead. He felt utterly undone, both in mind and body; his thoughts moved slowly, like molasses, when he was gripped with a sudden, wild urge to tell Flora that he loved her. It was a jarring thought, one which he abruptly stamped out and vehemently pushed far away. It unnerved him, though he remained still and silent, his heart twisting as he held her. It was all just hormones, he told himself. Love hormones, pheromones. The problem was, however, he'd never felt like this before with anyone.
They fell asleep, entangled in each other's legs and arms, and slept until after lunch. In retrospect, it was a risky, foolish thing to do when Sirius and Remus had a habit of entering the house unannounced—and Remus in particular had a bad habit of barging into Flora's room. They were undisturbed though.
When they awoke again, it was with a feeling of hunger. For some minutes, they were both too lethargic and too hungry to move, waiting in vain for the other to get up first. It was Flora who finally, stretching and sitting up, made the first welcome suggestion—
"Cup of tea?" She rubbed her face and yawned into her arm.
"Mmm," he grunted softly. Regulus was lying on his stomach with his arm lazily draped over her waist.
Flora climbed out of bed, feeling a little self-conscious as she was naked, and quickly sought out her nightie. Regulus opened his eyes as she did this, intrigued to see her whole body without the shroud of intimacy. He was seeing her as she was, just as Flora—the bruise on her knee, the brown mole under her left breast, the soft, pale hairs on her thighs and the dark hair between her legs. She had a pink birthmark at the top of her leg, just below her hip, and a faint scar behind her ear.
In Regulus' experience, witches used simple charms to rid themselves of blemishes, whether that be unwanted freckles, moles, scars, or birthmarks. It had become the done thing since the time muggles had burned and hanged witches. Accused muggles had stood no chance. Flora's visible imperfections reminded him at once of the untamed nature of muggles, a contrast to the pristine elegance of his world. She was blemished, imperfect. A muggle—but beautiful. The previous feeling he had pushed aside while holding her suddenly resurfaced, and he had to look away, utterly confused.
Flora knelt back down on the bed and kissed him. "Will you come downstairs too?"
He nodded, slowly sitting up. "Give me five minutes."
Flora gave him plenty of time as she went into the bathroom, leaving Regulus with his thoughts. When he joined her downstairs, now in his pyjamas, she had made them a cup of tea and bacon sandwich each. It was half past one and already the sky was growing darker; Flora had switched the light on.
"I don't think Remus and Sirius are coming back tonight, do you?" She said, trying to be conversational.
Regulus shrugged, at once starting to eat. He was ravenous. Flora sat down beside him and also began to eat, glancing at him sidelong every so often. She supposed his silence was due to hunger, but she grew uneasy when he wouldn't look at her.
"It's Bonfire Night tomorrow," she spoke again when they had both finished eating.
This drew his attention. He frowned a little, inclining his head to look at her. "Is that the night muggles set off explosions in the sky?"
"Fireworks," she corrected.
"Yes, I've never understood why," he grumbled, sipping his tea.
"It's to celebrate the failure of the Gunpowder Plot. Guy Fawkes and that."
Regulus was clearly none the wiser, but he also didn't look particularly interested, so Flora didn't bother to explain further. She looked back down at her tea, but a moment later lifted her eyes again and fixed them on him.
"What's the matter?" She demanded.
Regulus blinked, taken aback by her abruptness. "What? Nothing. Why?"
"You won't look at me, and you sound upset about something."
"I'm not upset."
"Why won't you look at me then?"
"I am looking at you," he fixed his gaze on her face and turned his body towards her. He reached for her hand loosely curled around her cup, pressing his fingers into her palm. He smiled softly, but his gaze shifted to her cup.
Flora stiffened. She felt sick; a wave of shame washed over her and she quickly snatched her hand out of his grasp as she stood up to clear their plates away. Bitter tears—it was always the stupid, childish tears—stung her eyes. She fought them back, busying herself with collecting and stacking plates from the party. The reminder of this failure only made her hurt more. She had her back to Regulus whatever she did and didn't hear him follow her, so she didn't expect it when she felt his arms encircle her waist from behind.
"Flora," he murmured, kissing her hair.
Flora furiously wiped at her eyes. She knew her nose had probably gone red, but there was no hiding it. She stood still, gripping the plates in both hands.
"Flora, what's wrong?" He asked.
"Nothing."
It irritated her that he had turned the situation around, to ask her what was wrong when it was him who had soured the mood with his stiff silences and glacial glances.
"Flora, put the plates down," he said after a moment.
Her hands were trembling, but she dumped the plates back down on the coffee table and allowed Regulus to turn her around to face him. She sniffled, blinking and looking across his shoulder, up into the far corner of the room. If you looked up and blinked, it stopped the tears from falling.
Regulus rested his hands on the small of her back. "What's the matter?"
Flora's eyes flickered back to his and the tears poured out. "You won't look at me," she said in a small, choked voice.
"I'm looking at you now, aren't I?"
"You wouldn't look at me while we were eating, you wouldn't speak to me."
"I'm tired," he countered weakly. "You must be too, surely?"
"Well, yes, but I'm not treating you like—like I'm ashamed or something."
She regretted saying it the moment the words left her mouth. She didn't want to argue with him. Luckily, it seemed neither did Regulus, though his brow furrowed and he bit his lip as he considered his response.
"I'm not ashamed, Flora," he said quietly. "I'm just…"
"Just what?" She prompted when he paused a beat too long.
Regulus took a deep breath thorough his nose and exhaled steadily. "I'm just confused. I'm confused. Everything I've ever believed in has been turned upside down."
Flora's eyes darkened. "You didn't seem confused when you had your cock in my mouth, or when you were—"
"Yes, alright," he cut her off. He brought his hand to her hair and pushed it behind her ears. "I'm sorry. Let's not argue. I—I care a lot about you, I care a great deal. And if we go by what I've been taught all my life, I shouldn't care. That's why I'm confused."
"But why does it matter so much to you? I have two legs and two arms like every other girl, like every other witch."
"Yes," he agreed. "Yes, I know. And I am trying to believe it doesn't matter whether you have the right amount of arms or six arms."
Flora laughed softly in spite of herself. Regulus smiled, rubbing his thumb over the corner of her lips.
"Please, Flora," he pulled her closer, speaking in a low voice. "I'm sorry. I'm trying."
Flora relented with a sigh and rested her head against his warm chest.
Sirius and Remus didn't come back that day, nor the next. It made Flora nervous, worrying something had happened. She was restless, irritable, waiting with the expectation of dread. The full moon was also only a few days away and she was not looking forward to a potential repeat of the last one.
"Do you want to go for a walk with me?" She asked on Bonfire evening. Regulus was in the living room, lounging in front of the fireplace, half-asleep and full from the warm meal Flora had cooked, but eating the sweets leftover from Sirius' party. Flora already had her hat, scarf, and coat on, ready to go and fully expecting him to say yes.
"What, now?" He frowned. It was raining and dark.
"No, a week next Saturday," Flora replied. "I'll wait outside until you're ready."
Regulus rolled his eyes and sat up. "Alright. Give me a minute."
"We might be able to see the fireworks without leaving the boundaries," Flora said as he pulled his jumper on. "I've got sparklers anyway."
He'd slept in Flora's bed the previous night. They both knew it was a risk, but staying apart was an impossibility. They just slept that night, Flora curled up in his arms and Regulus clinging to her even as he lay awake long after she fell asleep. It felt to Regulus that every day a new layer of himself was being pulled back, and it was not a comfortable experience.
When he set off walking with Flora, they held hands and Flora leaned in close to his arm. Though Regulus' legs were considerably longer than Flora's, they matched in stride; Regulus slowed down slightly to keep to her pace, letting her lead the way. The air was sharp, crisp, and smelled distinctly smoky. The rain was light and it sprayed their faces gently as they walked the small confines they were limited to, Flora seeking the best vantage point to see the fireworks below.
"What do you think is going on with Sirius and Remus?" Flora asked as they trudged down a stony path. "They said they'd come back."
"I don't know," he said truthfully. "Something important must've happened."
Flora was quiet for a moment before she asked with trepidation, "Do you think they're okay?"
"Someone would come here and tell us if anything bad had happened."
"But only they know the location, don't they? And Clementine. Remus said it's dangerous for too many people to know."
"Yes, but Dumbledore knows," Regulus replied. "I doubt anyone will capture him anytime soon. Don't worry."
He squeezed her hand reassuringly. Below them were farms, cottages like pinpricks of light, and in the distance was the black shape of hills. Flora stopped when they reached a large wooden gate—a boundary marker for them. The gate, which was connected to a stone wall that circled a field, was the wide type they could climb up and sit on. It looked over the hills, and further below was the village, and further on from there was the coastline. Presently, the sea looked as black as the hills.
Flora let go of Regulus' hand to climb onto the gate; Regulus followed suit, sitting beside her closely as she settled on top of it.
"Are you warm enough?" He asked, wrapping an arm around her anyway.
"Mm," she hummed, nestling closer to him.
The night was still and Flora was already beginning to wonder if they would be able to see anything from where they were sitting. She could hear fireworks coming from one of the neighbouring villages, but couldn't see them.
"I wish we could actually go down to the village," Flora said. "They always do a big bonfire in the square, and there's lots on the beach. I used to go to them with my friends, and Remus when we were little."
Everything Flora used to do felt like decades in the past to her, like a separate life somebody else had lived, or that she had dreamed.
"Maybe we can go next year," Regulus offered half-heartedly.
"If that stupid ugly wizard fucks off, yes," Flora grumbled.
Regulus smirked and kissed the side of her head. "Let's hope so."
Flora lifted her head and looked at him. "You think you'll still be with me then?"
Regulus blinked. "Why? Have you not much hope on me surviving a year?"
Flora smiled gently and the silly butterflies stirred in her heart again. "I meant," she began, but a loud firework exploded in the sky in full view of them. It was gold and red, and then suddenly a dozen all went off at the same time. Flora straightened up, her face brightening.
"I knew we'd be able to see them!" she said, pleased with herself for thinking of it.
Regulus had been so startled by the sudden noise he nearly fell off the gate. He watched, mesmerised by the shimmer of colours; when he looked at Flora, he could see the lights reflected in her irises.
"I could make better fireworks with magic," he said rather haughtily after the first round had ended.
Flora smacked his arm lightly, playfully. "Oh, don't start. Here," she dug into her coat pocket and pulled out a packet of sparklers, "Light these then."
"I'd show you," he shrugged, pulling out his wand. "But I don't want to draw unwanted attention to our location."
"Would the charm not conceal fireworks?"
"They'd fly up too high," he shook his head. "Way out of the boundary."
With his wand, he lit one of the sparklers. It started with a loud hiss, a small flash of white-golden light, and handed it to Flora, then lit one for himself.
"But I thought it was like a dome," Flora puzzled. "That's how I've imagined it. Like an invisible dome around us."
"Yes," he agreed, "But just as you're able to pass through it, so can magic. If I sent up fireworks, we'd be advertising our location to every werewolf and death eater in the vicinity."
"But then why can't the reverse be done?" Flora replied.
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Can't they fire spells in our direction and potentially hit us?" Flora waved her sparkler around like it was a wand, visibly demonstrating her point. It left a trail of light that quickly disappeared.
"No, because they don't know where we are."
"But say they had a rough idea."
"There's defensive charms around us too," he answered patiently. "Protego maxima, protego totalum, repello inimicum, as well as the intruder charm, security spell, everything. You brother was very thorough."
"But then why can fireworks break through?" Flora frowned in confusion.
"Because the fireworks aren't hostile," he replied with a small smile. "They aren't going to hurt us. They're just…there. The spells around us are meant to keep hexes and curses out. Fireworks are harmless, so they would pass through. Think of the boundary like a sieve," he went on, making a concave shape in the air with his hands as he explained. The sparkler followed the shape. "The sieve is meant to filter out harmful spells, but it doesn't filter out random objects or things that aren't targeted at us, like birds or leaves. Fireworks are just like that, and they would pass through the sieve without any problem."
Flora tutted and rolled her eyes gently. "Seems like an oversight to me. If a firework was targeted at us—"
"Yes," he cut in, "Targeted. The defensive charms stop targeted magic, and in any case a death eater isn't likely to set off fireworks at their enemy. It's clumsy, and they've been known to quite literally backfire unless they're shot directly up into the sky."
"Oh, alright then. I get it," she huffed.
"You asked," he smirked. He began to draw shapes in the air with his sparkler; swirls, circles, loops.
"You should be a Hogwarts professor. Both you and Remus. He likes explaining things too." Flora too began to draw shapes in the air, overlapping his. She tried to write her name before the light disappeared.
More fireworks went off in the distance. They watched on and lit what sparklers they had left (which wasn't many, as they were what was leftover from last year), watching them glow and dance in their hands. Flora knew there would be hundreds of people gathered in the village watching the fireworks display she was watching with Regulus, but right now she was glad to be sitting where she was, alone with Regulus. Flora settled back against his arm when they had used all the sparklers, looping her arm under his and resting her head on his shoulder. He held her against him, keeping her warm with his body heat. Still, after some fifteen or twenty minutes had passed, Flora began to shiver.
"Do you want to go back yet?" Regulus looked at her.
She nodded. "I think so, yes. It's cold."
Flora lifted her head from his shoulder as she spoke, and Regulus kissed her briefly on the lips as they lingered near his, almost reflexively. He helped her down from the fence. They walked hand-in-hand back to the cottage.
They had only been away a short while, but Flora had held the expectation (and hope) that either Sirius or Remus would be there waiting when they returned. They usually seemed to pop up whenever she wasn't there waiting. Nobody had been though. Flora put her pyjamas on, made hot chocolate for her and Regulus, and then they both settled down to read their books together in front of the fire—Regulus was now openly reading Pride and Prejudice in front of Flora, and had nearly finished it. Flora was reading an Agatha Christie book.
Sirius came the day before the full moon—two days after Bonfire Night. By this time, Flora was wracked with anxiety and had consequently baked three cakes, an apple pie, and two loaves of bread to keep herself busy. Regulus wasn't complaining, though he was constantly trying to calm her fears and soothe her tears at night when she cried, or else distract her with more sensual occupations.
She had just been about to start making chocolate chip cookies when Sirius arrived. She dropped everything and threw the door open before he was even on the doorstep. He had food shopping with him, floating in bags behind him, and he flashed her his usual charming smile like nothing was amiss, though there were purple shadows under his eyes and his hair, usually so tidy and perfect, looked like it needed washing.
Flora addressed him with conflicting relief and anger. "Where have you been?" she demanded at once. Regulus appeared behind her in the doorway, almost pressed against her. He narrowed his eyes on his brother.
"Sorry, Flo, I know," Sirius replied apologetically. "There was an emergency."
"What kind of emergency?" Both Flora and Regulus asked this same question at the same time. They both stepped aside to let Sirius and the shopping bags in.
"Nothing bad," he said quickly. "Nobody's hurt."
"Where's Remus?" Flora asked next.
Sirius used his wand to guide the shopping bags onto the kitchen counter before he looked at her and replied, "He's resting. Was quite irritable this morning."
Flora was not particularly pleased with the nonchalance of his attitude, not when she'd been worried out of her mind for days. She folded her arms and stood next to Regulus. "Why couldn't you have sent us a message to tell us everything was okay? Used the mirror? I tried calling through that stupid mirror almost every hour. You told me you'd always answer it, no matter what."
Regulus looked equally irritated with his brother, but Sirius looked at him before Regulus could start on a tirade of his own.
"I know, I'm sorry. There was a lot going on, and Remus and I got busy with it all. I do, uh, I need to borrow Reg actually though," Sirius said.
"Why?" Flora and Regulus again both spoke in unison, like they were one and the same.
Sirius seemed now to notice the way they were standing together, mirroring each other. He paused a moment, then replied lightly, "You can have him back after. If you want him back, I mean."
"What do you need me for?" Regulus frowned.
Sirius quickly drew himself up importantly. He moved closer to his younger brother and pulled him aside to the front door, effectively blocking Flora out of the conversation as he spoke in a low voice.
"We need you to speak to somebody," he said tersely. "I was told to bring you now."
"Who? Why?"
Flora, as opposed to being quiet and trying to eavesdrop, made a point of making as much noise as possible by putting pans and trays away. They clattered loudly.
"Flora, can you please—-" Sirius looked over distractedly.
"What?" She glared. Her look was so cutting that it startled Sirius and at once made him back off.
"I'm going to take Reg for a few hours," he replied.
"Can I come?" Flora folded her arms.
Sirius smiled, almost like he was about to laugh. "No, Flo. Don't be silly."
Flora wasn't surprised by this answer. She turned around to continue tidying up noisily, opening cupboards, aggressively stacking the plates and then letting the cupboard door slam back loudly. She knew it wasn't very mature, but she also knew her silent inner rage unnerved Sirius. It never worked on Remus, but Sirius would always try to reconcile with her and give away information he hadn't meant to.
"I need Reg to speak to someone there. Someone he knows quite well," Sirius, as she'd predicted he would, revealed.
Regulus frowned deeply, growing impatient. "Would you stop being so fucking cryptic. What difference does it make to Flora? Just tell me."
"Your old friend," Sirius replied, fixing his grey eyes on Regulus gravely. "Barty junior. Pleasant bloke. He broke James' finger when we tried talking to him. Mad-Eye thinks he might talk to you though."
Regulus stared at his brother, his expression suddenly oddly strained. "No," he shook his head.
Sirius appeared genuinely surprised by this. "No?"
"No," he repeated sharply, his jaw set and tense. His eyes briefly drifted over to Flora, who was observing the exchange with quiet interest.
"Why not?" Sirius frowned. "Having you there—he might talk to you. He might come to see things our way."
Regulus scoffed derisively at his brother's optimism. "Am I part of that our way mentality now? Last time I attended one of your meetings, I was treated like some foul disease."
"I didn't treat you that way," Sirius objected quickly.
"No, but that's how everyone else treats me. I'm surprised you're asking me to talk to him, frankly. Is the Order not worried I'll break him out? Run off with him?"
"Reg, we're just asking you to do us a favour," Sirius ran his hand through his unkempt hair, frustrated. "Honestly, I thought you might want to speak to him."
"Why?" He frowned.
"As I recall, he was your best friend, was he not?"
Regulus folded his arms. "He thinks I'm dead."
"Well then, won't it be a lovely surprise for him to see you are not, in fact, dead."
AN: hello! I'm cross-posting this story on ao3, and as of now I have finally caught up with the existing number of chapters. So, to anyone who has been reading this and keeps getting multiple posting notifications, it will cease to one per week from now on.
The ao3 version can be found under the user name les_fleurrs_du_mal. I post every Saturday, sometimes earlier, as it has a larger following on there.
The ao3 version also includes little mood board pictures!