Latest Posts by night-fall-moon - Page 2

No post this week because I had an AP exam yesterday, and

I have to make a presentation for English 😭

(I hate myself 😔)

Chapter 5: Let it Rain Blood—Refrain

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"This is the club where the Nutcracker has recently been spotted."

"It's kinda fun."

"The crowds making me sick”

"I think we- no- I think I'm outta place here."

"Nah, you look cute, Shirazu." Reina smacked his shoulder and winked.

Instead of taking the compliment to heart he just grumbled about how horrible he looked in feminine fashion. But she didn't blame him, he did look out of place—for the wrong reasons.

Shirazu had decided to wear a plain strapless bodycon dress, a cardigan thrown over top of it—with a zebra print scarf wrapped around his neck. His makeup looking all bright—clumps of mascara sticking to his eyelids. His hair brought up into a side drill ponytail.

Meanwhile the rest of them had worn calmer outfits, soft flowey dresses, soft makeup, modest clothing—nothing too out there. And yet here he was standing out like a sore thumb. Though he swore it was because of his height—it wasn't.

"The difference isn't your height. Now shut up, and focus on the mission at hand." Reina smacked his arm and left to talk with Haise.

"Hey."

"Hey.."

"I noticed you weren't paying attention during the briefing the first time around." She looked up at him worriedly, "what's on your mind?"

"It's.." he sighed.

"Promise you won't laugh at me?" He smiled down at her.

"You know I wouldn't, Haise." She grinned.

He chuckled and looked at the dance floor, his arms falling behind his back after tucking the white wig behind his ear.

"I took the rest of the squad to this amazing cafe, I mean it was filled with amazing decorations, books, it felt so... comforting.."

She looked at his face, his eyes reminiscing the warmth of the said café, his eyes sparkling under the vivid lights. His lips quirking up into a soft smile.

"We sat down and got served by this beautiful... stunning.. woman—"

"Hmm, someone's got a crush." She laughed at him.

"You promised you wouldn't laugh!" He whined embarrassedly.

"Too late for that, lover boy. Now what's she got to do with it?"

"She uhh.. she served us our coffee and when I took a sip of it—it—it... it felt so... familiar.. like I've always known this exact taste my whole life, but this was the first time I've ever visited... the place." His smile dropped into a frown, his eyebrows furrowed, hands balled up behind him.

"It felt like I was.. home for the first time since.."

"I know. It's been a long time since we both felt.. at home. Even with the so called 'home' we live in, it's just a prison we're bound to. Its nothing like—"

"Hey, Sassan!"

Both mentors turned to the boy calling out to his mentor.

"I think the Nutcracker's evaluating someone." He whispered, pointing at the corner she was seen talking to someone in.

Just then the girl stopped talking and pondered the idea.

"This isn't good.. that girl might go with the nut. If the nut gets to her, she may be taken to a different location."

...

"Sassan, Nana. About Saiko.. I think you're both too easy on her. Is.. there.. a reason?"

Looking up at the older man she waited for him to answer first. Haise looked down at the ground and thought back to old memories.

"Saiko's... mother left her father and took her and her brother with her. She opened up a bar with help from her boyfriend, but things didn't go well." He paused.

"..Saiko and her brother were sent to the CCG Junior Academy because tuition was cheap. She never wanted to become an investigator in the first place."

"When the time came to choose a career path, she still had no intention of becoming a ghoul investigator. Then the Junior cadets were given a Quinx aptitude test, of the six who passed, Saiko was by far the most suitable subject."

"When her mother found out there'd be compensation she immediately agreed to the procedure. The risk didn't seem matter to her mother—that's what I was told." He turned to look at the boy and acknowledged that he was her mentor for the squad, so that she could do her job, but he felt compelled to doing his job knowing that this wasn't what she wanted to do in life.

"I hesitate to lay more on her than I have to when she can't be motivated."

"Guess having parents doesn't mean being happy. She's the only one with either parent close by." He sighed.

"Both of Urie's are gone. Tooru's family was killed by ghouls. My dad's—my mom's around somewhere, but.. as long as we're in that house, I think we gotta do our jobs!! She's just bein' lazy!" He yelled frustrated that there was such a simple solution that was being overlooked.

"If she's hurting for money, she can work... she should cut ties with her mom."

"Maybe..."

"No, she should!!"

"I don't think it's that simple as you think it is, Shirazu." Reina whispered knowing he didn't hear anything over the loud music.

"H-hey, Sassan? If you regain your memory... are you.. going to quit the commission? You too, Nana... since you're both..."

"Since we're both what?"

"You know.." he brought his hands up and put his pointer fingers together, hinting that he thought they were dating.

"W-wait a second. Me and Haise aren't.. you think we're..!?" She screeched out horrified.

"Me and Reina aren't—"

"Wait really?! This whole time I thought the two of you were—"

"Oh, god, no! Not that there's anything wrong with Haise, but he's like a brother! Ew." She cringed as he just watched and laughed at her dramatics.

"To answer you question, Shirazu, I won't quit." Haise reassured the boy who looked at him with a wavering smile

Just then a loud laugh erupted from the other side of the club.

"I like your hair!! It's cute!" Mutsuki a voice rang out surprising the person he was talking to—which was none other than the Nutcracker.

"Is he drunk?" A pull at Haise's dress pulled him out of his thoughts as he looked down at Saiko.

"What is it, Saiko?"

"I think Mutsi had something to drink. He reeks of alcohol." She recalled the unpleasant smell on him.

"Looks like that'll be one hell of a hangover for him tomorrow." Reina laughed.

"He's coming over!"

Mutsuki ran over to the group and greeted them with a salute before announcing that he successfully earned a job from the Nutcracker. His words slurred as his eyes focused on Haises before blinking away from the older man's gaze, and turning to drag both Saiko and Shirazu with him to the dance floor leaving both mentors by the wall.

They watched as they shouted, complained, and enjoyed themselves without worrying about their jobs, and instead focusing on being the children they still were at the moment. Both Haise and Reina admired them from a far, their faces smiling sadly as they took in this innocent moment.

And now, there she was. Sitting in front of one of the members of the Washu clan. Matsuri Washu. She's always hated him ever since she first met him. To be honest, he gave her the creeps whenever they spoke. She couldn't explain it.

Joining her was Juuzou and Haise, running the meeting was the damned Washu man. So far she'd done nothing but pick at her nails and pretende to read over the so called documents he gave the trio. She didn't care for what he had to say, plus Haise was there. Surely he would fill her in.

She found it funny how one could be so proud of his lineage without knowing all the actual problematic things that happened under his very nose. He'd been so sheltered, that he was blind as to what was right in front of him.

“…have investigator Mutsuki attend the auction.” Matsuri said annoyed.

At that Reina perked up and looked at Haise who glanced at her quickly and asked if he heard him correctly.

“A-alone, sir?” He stuttered.

They both knew that even if Mutsuki did get the lead, he was in no way fit to go alone no matter the circumstance. If they could decide who to take to the auction, Reina would offer herself. She didn’t endure a year of torture for nothing.

“Of course. It’d be suspicious otherwise. It’s to avoid arousing suspicion, and so we can mount an attack from within.” His voice echoed throughout the room.

“He won’t be able to carry a quinque in with him if there’s a security check. And that is what the quinxes ability is for, no..?”

Haise panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind to protect the boy from any imminent danger, “But Investigator Mutsuki isn’t ready for such an important mission!!”

“What do you mean by ‘but,’ Investigator Sasaki?” Matsuri voice lowered by an octave, an almost animalistic—irritated growl came out from the man.

Haise cowered and just watched as Juuzou stepped in to save him from. Raising his hand, he asked for permission to speak before asking if he could join the auction too. His bubbly voice cutting through the tension between both guys.

“What if I pose as Investigator Mutsuki’s friend? Might be good to have one more on the inside if you want to mess things up from within.” He smiled innocently.

The discussion only lasted a few more minutes until the Washu man finally relented and allowed the boy with red stitches to attend and pose as an average citizen.

Just then there was a knock at the door, Investigators Hirako, Akira, and Shimoguchi entered the room. They stood tall as Matsuri addressed them a lot more formally than he did with Haise and Reina. She scoffed but covered it up as a cough and sat forward in her seat, her arms crossed across her chest, and leaned on the table. After that the meeting had officially commenced.

“Now let me explain the details of the operation auction sweep.”

As everyone left the room Juuzou caught up to mentors and chatted up a small conversation before Akira came over and spoke to the both of them as well.

“Reina, Haise. If Squad 2 is involved, it’s a big operation. That doesn’t happen often.” Her words struck them as she wasn’t holding back.

She wanted them to understand the severity of the operation and what it entailed.

“I know neither of you have any career ambitions here, but what you do here will go a long way. That of course applies to your squad too. But the bigger the reward…” she sighed looking away from them.

“The bigger the risk.” Reina muttered as Haise continued from where she left off.

“Thats what you were going to say, right..?”

“Yeah..”

Reina stayed silent as she stayed listening to the older woman. She knew that she hated her, and yet she still warned her—them— of the dangers that lurked in future operations whilst working at the CCG. A small fire erupted in the younger girls chest. Maybe it was because she thought they were finally getting along, that she was pushing their differences aside even. That feeling died down into nothing but wisps of smoke when she thought that it was all meant for Haise.

But why did she care? She was a human, nothing but food for her. She shook those thoughts away and hurried the feeling deep down. She’d deal with her feelings once they were ready to burst in the near future. As for now she’d just have to focus on her words.

“You need to be stronger, Haise. Be stronger and kill ghouls. Those with the least to lose… are the strongest.” And with that she left them. She didn’t even bother to spare the girl another glance either.

Once she was far enough away Reina turned to Haise and found a conflicted expression on his face. Grabbing his shoulder she rubbed it.

“Hey, if you really want to be stronger don’t listen to her words. Killing does nothing, it only feeds into the conflict you have between yourself. Instead, do what feels right to you, Haise. You’re your own person.” She smiled before grabbing his arm and dragging him to the car.

“Let’s go home now. We’ve got the rest of the squad to debrief.”

Once they both got home she left to her room and changed out of her clothes and into some shorts and an oversized shirt she’d stolen from one of the boys. Walking to the bathroom she shut herself in and started her nightly routine. Making sure to wash her face, and moisturize properly.

It had been getting a bit chillier as autumn was coming to fruition. The wind nipped at her skin everytime she left without a scarf, leaving her skin dry.

Leaving the bathroom she went back to her room and thought of the squad and their first mission. She wondered how they’d hold up. She remembered the first time she’d ever fought against an operation. The day the coffee shop became nothing but burnt bricks and ashes. Tragedy following moments later.

She sighed and sat on her bed. The blinds were open allowing her to see outside the big wall of windows that so generously came with the house. Her thoughts suddenly turned to a certain boy in the hospital.

“God, what the hell am I going to do with him. He doesn’t listen to either of us, now look at what happened. Turning himself into a little guinea pig.” She flopped her head on her pillows and tugged the sheets over her body shielding herself from the cool air circulating throughout the room.

She stretched her hand out above her head, reaching for the ceiling.

“What would Yoshimura do? What would dad do?”

Pulling her hand down she turned to reach over her nightstand and turned the lamp off before heading to bed. That would be a problem for the furture her. For now she’d rest for there were big days ahead of them leading up to the raid in November.

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a/n: hi! I’m back again but imma dip soon again due to my teachers giving excessive work. I hope you enjoy the next few chapters, I barley had time to proofread them so I apologize for any errors!!

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I’ll be posting on Friday!! I just need to format the chapters for tumblr and they’ll be on their way :) I apologize for the long wait, I’ll be going on hiatus again soon because of finals and AP exams :( but I’ll be back by late May/early June. Thank you so much for you patience

— Emmy <3

(Senior year kinda sucks 🥲)

Edit: I got caught up with work n shit, I’ll post at 12 or 1 tomorrow (for sure)!! (05.10.24)

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Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

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As the case came to a close one of the Suzuya squad members abruptly spoke up, "By the way, I thought the Q's squad had five members?"

"Oh, the other two are..." Reina rubbed the back of her neck anxiously, knowing that Shirazu most likely gave up trying to wake up the blue sloth.

The other two—Mutsuki and Urie—beside her murmured quietly. "I wonder if he couldn't wake up Saiko.."

"Can't be helped, but it doesn't reflect well on Q's squad."

Mutsuki looked at the vacant seat across from him, "their squad leader isn't here yet either." He noted to the boy next to him.

And just on time the short male sprinted through the door making quite the entrance.

"Sorry I'm late!" He marched on in as his squad rose to greet him, a rush of good mornings flooded the room.

Once introductions were set, Suzuya turned to the two instructors and greeted them with open arms—but instead of a hug, Suzuya instead began to pat the taller man down. Handful after handful of candy piling up in the palms of his hands—stuffing them into his own pockets for later. He then turned to the girl and stuck his hands out expecting her to pull out another handful of treats just for him.

"You know candy'll give you cavities Juuzou." She said as she handed the small handful to him.

"This is less than last time." He pouted as he counted each piece.

"Did you not hear what I just said? Haise gave you enough as it is." She quirked a brow at him.

He smiled at her and popped the lollipop she gave him into his mouth before turning to Abara.

"Sir, the meeting has concluded.." the taller man noted.

"Then gimme the short version. But before you do-"

"I'm sorry... we're late!!" A loud voice echoed throughout the room and small snores could be heard from behind the man.

"Shirazu?!"

"Im impressed. Maybe putting Shirazu in charge was a good idea, Haise." She smiled at the younger boy as he blushed at the compliment, behind him Saiko seemed to have been half awake, mumbling incoherent words.

"I met them in front of the elevator.. give me the rundown once they're seated, please." Juuzou finished his sentence as Abara nodded at his word.

"Sorry Sassan, Nana.. we're so late.." he frowned.

"I-it's alright. Thanks for bringing her here... you did great!!" Haise smiled awkwardly trying to calm the panting boy.

"Stop acting like you did something bad," Reina rolled her eyes at the dramatic boy, "just be proud about the fact that you were able to bring her here. Give her to me, just sit." She extended her arms out and reached out to grab the drooling girl on his back.

She carried her to an empty seat and tried to wake her up.

"C'mon Saiko, you're here already might as well try and be present for the meeting, yeah?" She cupped the girl's chubby cheeks. Instead the girl just kept nodding off, a string of drool dropping onto the older girls arm.

Instead of getting grossed out by the wet feeling she just brushed it off and continued shaking the sleepy girl awake. "Saiko... if you try your best throughout this mission I'll buy you that new DLC you've been wanting." She bribed.

How the girl caught her words, she'll never know, but they seemed to work as the weariness was slowly washing off of her and a sudden consciousness came to front for a bit.

"You promise?" Her raspy voice called out quietly.

"Have I ever broken a promise, Saiko?"

"Nuh-uh."

"So you promise?"

"Pinky promise?"

"Alright, pinky promise." Both girls intertwined their fingers together swearing not to break this vow, not wanting to disappoint the other as it'd give them something valuable in return.

A significant gift from the girl she looks up to, and a better relationship with the girl she wants to protect the world from.

A ghoul who consumed only genitals from the opposite sex wasn't uncommon to hear, but was pretty unsettling to hear the least. As her name suggested, she only ate testicles—and her traces were rather odd.

Cases of human trafficking in ghoul society wasn't uncommon at all. After all that's how the Gourmet's eat after all—and ghoul restaurants were still as popular as ever, but that may just be considered kidnapping and homicide.

"Well..?" Haise muttered into hi in-earpiece.

Seated at the designated restaurant, the Quinx squad was separated by tables. A group of three by the back of the restaurant and one closer to where The Nutcracker and her accomplice were seated, those being Mutsuki, Shirazu, and Saiko.

Haise, Reina and Urie situated farther away guiding the rest of the squad from afar. So far they were able to barely get anything in either of them.

"It's no good. My ears aren't up to par today." Shirazu scolded himself growing increasingly frustrated at his incompetence during an important point of their main mission.

Turning to the small blue haired girl, Shirazu nudged her and asked if she could hear anything, but all that came out was her describing the sound of the meat grilling in the kitchen. Unable to hold back his frustration he took it out in the girl and whacked her on the head while cursing her out.

Sighing, Reina looked up from her phone and turned to the other two boys beside her and noticed that they were equally as stressed, though Urie was hiding it a lot better than Haise. Speaking of the boy, he looked to be lost in thought until Shirazu spoke into the earpiece.

"What do we do? S-should we move closer?"

"No. Knowing that when ghouls are out they're already hyper aware of their surroundings. They'll just get more suspicious of us. Plus, you guys look so out of place." She scrolled on her phone and mumbled the last part more so to herself, but Urie happened to overhear her but decided not to comment.

"Shit, I can almost hear them too-" Shirazu's arm pushed his cup over the edge of the table. The fragile glass shattering as it came into contact with the floor. Shards of glass and juice spreading all over the floor.

Haise covered his face in dread, Saiko looked at the boy in an unimpressed manner. Mutsuki turned to nervously look at the boy who was probably shitting bricks and pissing himself right about now.

Trying to act nonchalantly Urie took a sip of his coffee, and Reina continued to scroll in her phone acting as if nothing ever happened.

The Nutcracker and her accomplice turned to look over her shoulder back at the blonde before she got up to pour herself a cup of iced coffee. Her gaze never leaving his.

"I'm sorry Investigator Suzuya... the Nut seems to be returning home earlier than we expected. She may have caught onto us. I'm sorry. It was my fault.. yes sir." Haise cut the call and turned to the sulking boy.

"Squad leader. It's alright. We'll make up for it next time."

"Shirazu. Look at me," the girl ordered. He hesitantly looked up at her, "Mistakes happen. You'll get used to things not going as planned. Cheer up."

Once the squad back home Shirazu locked himself in his room out of sheer frustration and embarrassment from his supposed failure. Leaving him be Reina went up to her room and grabbed a few toiletries before heading into the bathroom and taking a warm bath.

She stripped of her day clothes and stepped into the warm water, her mind running wild until she sat down letting the warm water relax her badly and mind. Slipping further and further into the tub she let herself get consumed by the water, numbing her senses letting the wave of calmness take over.

She recalled a memory. They were in the comfort of their own home, she was on her bed reading while her sister was by the windowsill painting her nails. She'd gotten to a chapter that described a new setting she was totally unfamiliar with.

The sandy, sunny beach. Where there was an infinite amount of sand and water—inches, feet, kilometers deep. Waves that crashed up against the rocks that bordered the shore line. The feeling of cold salt water splashing against their warm skin.

"Rize, what's a beach?"

"A beach? Well they're usually considered a tropical place, but not always. They're apparently great vacation trips for when you want to take a break from everything."

"How come we've never been to the beach?"

"That, silly girl, is because there's no big bodies of water here in the city. We need to be by the coast in order to be by the beach."

"I wanna go to the beach!"

"Do you know how to swim?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I? Kichimura taught me how to-"

A knock at the door brought her back to reality. She pushed herself up and out of the water, hands wiping the water out of her face before responding.

"Yeah?"

"I need to ask you something."

"I'll be out in a minute—hold on."

She pulled the drain plug and stepped out of the tub onto the floor. Droplets of water soaking the dry floor. She wrung her hair and wrapped it up in a towel. She grabbed her other towel and began drying herself as quickly as she could. Deciding she was dry enough she put her underwear on and messily put her outerwear on.

Leaving the bathroom a mess she opened the door, her face being met with a poker face.

"What is it?"

"I need you to sign this." He handed the sheet of papear over.

Reading it over it stated the following, surgical consent form... frame procedure... healthy... next step.

"If I don't sign this, what'll happen?"

...

"And what did Sasaki say?"

"He'll give it some thought."

"Let's go to my room. We can discuss this more privately in there." She grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around whilst guiding him to her room. Opening the door she pushed him inside and closed it behind her.

"Okay first thing first, why do you want to get it done?"

"I-"

"And be honest with me, I don't want a bullshit answer."

"As I was saying, I feel like I'm handling my kagune better than before and my rising RC levels have stabilized. Taking the next step in the experiment would be best for me."

"No. That's the answer you should give me, I want your personal belief. I know there's a stronger feeling that's making you feel strongly about the surgery."

...

Sighing she pinched her nose bridge knowing it would get her nowhere with him. Knowing Kuki Urie, there would be no coaxing his actual feelings out. He was a smart boy, knew exactly what his peers and everyone else wanted to hear. But when it came to Reina there was no use trying to suck up to her.

"Look, I know we're not as close as I am to the other members. But you keep pushing yourself away from emoting how you truly feel in the moment, and it's not just that. Remember how you asked for the reimbursement, and how you kept handing us receipts?"

He blinked.

"You never communicated with us. Had you told us your idea, your plan, anything at all! You wouldn't have put anyone in danger. You're holding yourself back and you don't even know it because that's been your whole li-"

"Don't act like you know me-"

"But I do know you. See how you're acting defensive? You know exactly what I'm talking about, Kuki Urie."

"Shut your mouth."

"You know, I wish you would just speak your mind no matter what. I can tell that you're hurti-"

"Will you sign the form? Or not?" He cut her off before she could say anything else.

"No." She crossed her arms, her voice dripping of disapproval.

He walked out of the room and slammed the door.

"Please take a look at the files in your hands... it's a copy of a list discovered at The Nutcracker's residence.

"A list?"

"Yes. It's a grocery list. It suggests there's a connection between the Nutcracker and the madames."

"So the Nut also kidnaps people, maybe she's collecting things for the auction."

"An auction..?" Mutsuki asked after hearing the word during the case.

"It's a bidding event that the madames hold—similarly to ghoul restaurants. They bid off the victims they kidnapped," Reina explained simply, "or in other words human trafficking."

"The ghoul known as the Big Madame—the chairperson of the restaurant and the show—is notorious throughout the CCG. We've had numerous chances to eradicate her, but they all ended in failure."

"So she's a vicious ghoul..?"

"If the Nutcracker is working for the Madame this could be an important case."

"If needs be, we may work, with Countermeasure II..."

Leaving the briefing was pretty eventful. With the newfound information of the case, everything had now changed. This was going to be the first case in a while where they would actively pursue a rate: ≥ A ghoul. It was like a scary thrill ride with how surreal the moment felt as it sank in.

The five of them walked out together and murmured a few words to each other about the case.

"Sounds likes it's bigger than I expected..."

"Yeah. A joint investigation with Countermeasure II rarely happens. Guess it's all up to the Nut... we need to be at our best." Haise stated, everyone else knowing that it was true. If they lacked competence in any way, shaper, or form they'd end up six feet under.

"Hey, Sassan, Nana."

Bothe mentors perked up at their names being called upon by the blonde boy beside them.

"Is Urie okay? Being sent to the hospital out of nowhere like that."

"Sorry, I don't know. I was just informed myself."

Reina sighed knowing exactly what happened. After the argument that ensued the night he presented her the consent form, she knew that he'd still get the surgery behind their backs. How he was able to go through with it? She didn't know, but she probably had a feeling he forged their signatures or something.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Shirazu. Urie's a tough nut, he'll get through whatever's going on in his immune system." She reassured the boy, not letting anything slip.

"I don't know. I can't reach Dr. Shiba either."

"I hope it's nothing serious."

"They said he'll be back in a few days. It'll just be us then."

"We have a meeting tonight. Shirazu, there's someplace I have to go to after I lecture Saiko. Can I have the car keys?" Haise reached his arm out as the boy pulled the keys out without hesitation and passed them to the man.

After Haise came back, he wasted no time to call everyone into the meeting room to announce their new plan. He sat everyone down and gave them the shorter version of what he was told,

"The Nut is scoping out potential victims in clubs and other places in the 13th ward. The list includes some unusual criteria for victims. Ocular prosthesis... vocalist, and some general ones like specific height and weight."

He stood up, " guys. We're going to become women."

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a/n: this’ll be the last chapter for the month, and I’ll be taking a break due to personal reasons. I’ll continue writing whilst I’m on hiatus, so it’ll be easier to post once I’m done and so I’m ahead of my schedule. I’ll be back by May! So I’ll see you guys then!

ps. I wasn’t going to post today at all, but I felt like I was depriving everyone and myself of giving y’all the next chapter, so here you are

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Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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The next few days were pretty uneventful. Most of the stuff that happened was meeting with Shimoguchi in the hospital. After his whole team was slaughtered mercilessly he resided in the stiff bed after help arrived and rescued him, treating all his minor injuries.

Although it was Akane's job to join both Haise and Akira during these moments she decided to leave it all to the both of them deeming the task, "boring." Instead she walked over to the familiar scent of ground coffee and sweet, sweet, sugar. Her beige coat engulfed her curvy figure as she entered the warm café. A little bell at the top of the door alerting the barista upfront.

Her dark purple swaying behind her as she greeted the new customer with a small smile. Her voice coming out smoothly, her upturned smile making itself present in her voice.

"Welcome to Re, what can I get you..?"

Her eyes widened in surprise as she trailed off. In front of her stood the short woman. Her lilac hair pulled up into a messy bun, her lips stained a bloody red making her pale complexion stand out even more. Her lips curled into a small smile, "Hi, Touka," she waved.

The woman felt conflicted, but a small warmth spread throughout her chest seeing a familiar face after all these years of living in solitude.

"I hope you don't mind brewing me a drink."

"I.. uh. Sure, plain brew?"

Nodding she sat by the counter up front and waited patiently. She looked around the place and noticed shelves and shelves of books on the walls of the café. They varied from informational novels, romance, historical fiction, thrillers, and other varying genres. The vibe of the café was calm, cozy—it felt like a safe haven, the dim lights making her feel at home.

In an instant Touka came back and settled the cup in front of her.

"Nice place you got here, Touka. Reminds me of Anteiku, you know? But the books are throwing me off." She said as she sipped the scalding liquid, her throat burning at the temperature, but she managed the pain.

"What are you doing here?" Touka inquired, feeling a bit off edge at her sudden appearance.

"You know you aren't being slick with the books. I bet if Kaneki visited he'd move in—in point five seconds." She chuckled as her fingers traced the rim of the coffee cup.

The dark haired woman blushed at the words and tried to deny every word that came out of the busty woman's mouth. Cheeks became increasingly red as she stuttered over her words. Akane just laughed at the younger woman and shook her head.

"You're so easy to read, grape."

"W-what are you doing here?" She crossed her arms.

"Can't I visit? Damn, first, Nishiki, now you? Guess I'm unwanted everywhere I go." She joked about blowing on her cup.

"That's not what I meant, and you know that."

"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes as she sipped on her cup once more,

"I wanted to escape from my job real quick." She shrugged as she looked into the brown liquid, her reflection gazing up at her.

"They're being a pain in the ass and I can't escape from them. I just wish I had my old life back, you know?" She chuckled whilst stroking the handle of the cup in a slow manner.

"Yeah. I know." Touka sighed

"What.. happened after we-"

"A lot. But it's best if we catch up at a later time, right now it's isn't safe to. Not here." She shook her head.

"You know, Anteiku was more like a family than my sister was, to me. I hope you know that I care for you and the others, Touka." She smiled as she picked her stuff up and pulled out a few bills leaving it on the counter as she left the café.

The purple haired girl watched her walk away leaving her glued to her spot as she looked down at the now vacant seat, her chest warming up for the first time in a while.

"You too, Reina."

The walk home was a bit slow and carefree. It's been a while since she decided to take up to enjoy the beautiful scenery surrounding her. It made her feel nostalgic of all the times her and her sister snuck out of their fathers place and wandered around without a care in the world. Soaking in the beauty nowadays was a luxury for most people.

Days consisting of work, barely any time to spend time at home relaxing, spending time with the family, with the kids, taking time for yourself was taboo. Forced to drink and make social relations with humans was growing tiring for Reina, she just wanted to rest and dream about the good old days.

Anteiku. The old coffee shop that used to stand in place of the newer shop, :Re. A family she found after her sister disowned her and left her to stay with her father. In an attempt to search for her sister she also fled to the 20th ward where she found home. She ended up transferring schools after she decided to live in the 20th ward, the safest ward up until a few years later.

She opened the door and sluggishly hung up her coat and kicked off her heels, as her hand reached up to unclasp the anchored claw clip in her hair. Her eyes felt tired and watery.

"Damn it." She cursed as the hand in her hair came down to wipe away the free flowing tears, her hair now unraveling itself down her back as it settled to frame her face

At the top of the staircase was a shadowed figure that made itself known after hearing noise coming from downstairs. She gazed up at the person and quickly settled her eyes elsewhere upon realizing who it was. She didn't say a word and instead just walked all the way up to her room and shut it. She laid on her bed all sprawled out and looked out the window. The bright sun peeking out from the thin curtains, rays of sun peeking through the gaps.

The whole room illuminated in a golden cast, the rays that hit her body warming her up more than before—but in a comforting way. All that was missing was a hand running through her hair murmuring a few words about an old story her sister heard a few times before they escaped that god ridden place.

She turned over and looked at the propped up frame on her nightstand. A picture of her older sister and father enjoying quality time together. Their faces calm and collected as he braided his daughters hair and she read with a book in her lap. The same rays of sun in her room showed in the picture, the warmth in the photo could be felt outside of it. She took the photo in secret after finding the discarded camera in an empty alleyway the day prior. The picture had been a fond memory of hers as she remembered what happened after they found her sneaking up on them.

The sound of a camera shutter could be heard from a few feet away which alerted the two. As her father tied up his little girls hair he stood up and walked up to the door of the room and pushed it open only to find his other little girl with a camera in her hand as she smiled up at him with innocent eyes.

"Where'd you get this from, Reina?" He asked as he picked up the device and inspected it closer. He certainly didn't remember gifting her a toy camera—let alone a real one.

"I found it! Remember when you sent me and Rize to go shopping? I saw something white in an alleyway and so I told Rize that I saw something and we checked it out! It was a camera! It might be a bit dirty and scratched up, but it works fine." She explained twirling a strand of her lilac hair between her thumb and pointer finger.

She looked up at her father and shied away from his gaze.

"So you didn't steal this?" He lowered himself to meet her face.

"No! No! Rize, tell him I didn't! You were there with me!" She pointed at her sister, hoping he'd believe her word.

The older girl just chuckled and shook her head in a playful manner.

"Hmm, I think I remember someone running after us saying 'you get back here you thieves!'" She joked.

"Hey! You know that's not true!" The younger girl furrowed her eyebrows as she crossed her arms.

The older girl just laughed and walked towards her younger sister and picked her up. "I'm just joking, queenie. I know you didn't steal it." She looked up at her father and explained that it was by a garbage can and they asked the owner if they could take it with them.

"Can't have my daughter thinking it's okay to steal. I've raised them to be respectful, kind ladies." He scooped them up and handed the camera back to his youngest.

"I know I may not be your biological father, but I hope you know that I care for you both and will try my best to be the best father to the both of you." He whispered as he kissed the crowns of their heads.

The boy had walked back to his place on the couch after the girl went up to her room. He noticed that her eyes were a bit puffy and red, her hair a bit disheveled. Hell, she hadn't even insulted him as she passed him. He found it weird but didn't think of it much. Pushing his thoughts aside he sat back down on the couch and scrolled through his phone for a while until he couldn't shake the thought anymore.

Curiously he made his way upstairs and walked to the wooden door. The scent of perfume lingered from her room, often nauseating the rest of the team with how strong they were. She'd taken their reaction into consideration and threw them out and swapped them for more faint scents. Often not she'd bring home samples and ask around the house whether they were good to wear or not.

His hand reached for the door handle and pulled it open as it revealed the girl curled up on her bed. Her hair splayed everywhere on her pillow, the sun hitting her curled figure, her arms cuddling something. A picture frame? As he was about to close the door the faintest mumbling could be heard, "Dad... wher..Riz.?" Her voice slurred. He assumed she was reliving a memory.

Her voice groaned before she spoke, "n.. left..? Wh.. she at.?" Her chest started heaving, breaths getting heavier and heavier as her face scrunched up, eyes wrinkling. Tears free flowing down the side of her face. She continued muttering under her breath, "not safe", "find her", and "no's" escaped her mouth until her tears stopped, her breathing evened out as her tense body finally relaxed once more.

"I'll.. find her... dad.." she whispered.

Hearing enough he shut the door and headed back downstairs, this time returning to his newspaper.

After a few hours there was a big bang that woke her up. Groggily getting up she rolled over and dropped the framed photo on the carpet with a thud which caught her attention, she looked down at the object and picked it up.

"When did I move you?" She mumbled as she examined it making sure nothing broke or got scratched. She put it back on her night stand and walked to her mirror.

She muttered a curse under her breath as she saw her reflection. She was a mess. Eyes bloodshot red, puffy, makeup all runny staining her face. Her hair stuck to her face from the tears—which acted like an adhesive. Sitting down by her vanity she pulled out a makeup remover wipe and began to scrub at her face. Throwing it into the trash can, she walked out and checked out what the murmuring in the hallway was about.

"What the hell did you do?" She loomed behind them.

Saiko’s room was a mess. Trash everywhere and the door was knocked off of it hinges. Mutsuki, Urie and Shirazu were all huddled around the small girl cornering her on her bed. The quartet paused their little argument and turned to the older girl.

"Saiko's finally going to work with us during missions!!" Shirazu and Mutsuki exclaimed.

"Okay, okay, calm down you guys. Clean this mess up while you're at it." she turned to Urie and winked at him,

"If you wanted to wear my perfume, you could've asked instead of sneaking in." She chuckled and left.

"That little... what happened to the Saiko from last night?!"

They were all outside the house waiting on the stubby girl to join them, but it seems that wasn't the case even after last night's convincing. Shirazu seemed to be the most irritated out of all them, his mood clearly worsening the longer they waited.

"Didn't you all convince her to finally start working?" The girl teased.

"We should get going, we'll be late." Haise jumped in trying to get the message across that Saiko wouldn't join them no matter what, but Shirazu was determined.

"What do you wanna do? Squad leader?" 

"Sasan. Go ahead, I'm going to wake her ass up!!" He insisted.

"But.. when Saiko sleeps in, nothing wakes her up.." Haise said helplessly.

"Everyone wakes up!!" His voice getting smaller the farther he ventured inside the house. 

There was no stopping him anymore. As they all headed into the car Mutsuki asked if they really believed if he could actually get her to wake up and get to the meeting.

“She didn’t wake up when I banged on pots..” Haise added with a troubled look remembering that day.

"It'd take a miracle if she even woke up let alone join us for the meeting." Reina commented as she buckled up in the backseat with Urie.

Stumbling to get to the meeting room in a rush, Haise opened the door and bowed, “I’m sorry we’re late..” as Reina followed suit.

“We’ve been expecting you, Investigators Sasaki, Nakou.” Rank 2: Hanbeh Abara stood by the door and greeted the squad.

“Where’s Juuzou?” He asked.

“He overslept.. we’ll start without him.” 

Situating themselves in their respective seats Hanbeh then began the meeting. He stayed standing up as he presented the case regarding the Nutcracker, the Madames, and the Gourmets. Interested Reina stayed paying attention after hearing that the Gourmets were involved.

She turned to look at Haise—who was all the way to her left—who surprisingly wasn’t paying attention to the meeting at all. Instead his face was screwed into confusion and worry. Knowing there was nothing she could do at the moment she turned back to pay attention to the case. There was no harm in asking after the briefing.

wc: 2.5k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: i actually wrote this in early feb but decided to make a posting schedule just to make my life easier and more organized (i still have yet to complete my hw… I’m very irresponsible :’)

ps. this chapter was completed during midwinter break

Tag list:

Chapter 2: Regent

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The sound of skin to skin contact echoed throughout the meeting room. Pale skin becomes red as blood flows to the surface of it. A mild stinging pain could be felt, the feeling of embarrassment flooded his senses, but he kept a cool front. His poker face never faltered no matter how humiliated he was.

A sense of lingering anger and authority dropped from the hand that slapped the boy. His face filled with worry as his voice spoke out,

"A squad leader can't put his squad members' lives at risk." His voice was serious.

He was dead serious, and it showed not just through his expressions, but through his violent actions. He'd never once laid a hand on them no matter the circumstance, but he felt the need to express it this time to show that he was the one in charge for once and wouldn't be put down.

"It's dangerous to show our back to the enemy. I took the possibility of Orochi pursuing and attacking us from the rear into consideration." He defended himself.

He stared at Haise the whole time and asked him, "does that warrant a slap in the face?"

"You think you're so smart. Why else do you think I called for Haise? You would've died had it not been for me telling him as soon as we left to pursue Torso." Reina yelled at the foolish boy.

His ego got too big that he almost killed himself and the rest of his team all because of his selfish desires. Haise stood still as everything unveiled itself.

"Ghoul investigators must run even if their arms and legs are torn off!!" He raised his voice, veins popped out the side of his neck. His face contorted into one of worry.

"We'll have our chance as long as we're alive. What can we do if we're dead?!"

Sighing, Reina got in between both boys and put a hand on each of their shoulders. She pushed Urie away a bit and turned to face him.

"Urie I'm relieving you from duty as Squad Leader of the Quinx Squad." She stated.

Again Urie started arguing, he made sure his voice was heard when he said, "I find this unacceptable," but both of them didn't budge, instead Haise put his foot down and in an authoritative voice jibed, "it's an order."

Gritting his teeth Urie breathed heavily leaving a heavy suspenseful silence in his wake until he sneered at both of them, "but you're both ghouls..."

His eyes widened meanwhile the rest of the squad squeaked in surprise at his bold claim. How could he disrespect their mentors?! Shirazu wasted no time in beating some sense into the boy.

"You're a piece of shit!!" He yelled as he kicked the purple haired boy.

He continued to lecture the boy about how responsible and considerate their mentors were. How they both risked their lives for theirs. He tussled him around like a rag doll, Urie having no reaction to the treatment he was getting at the moment. Instead he looked behind him where Mutsuki was standing.

There the shy boy stood watching Shirazu manhandle Urie. Noticing that he was looking back he decided to speak up.

"Urie.. I.. I'd like you to apologize to Instructors Sasaki and Nakou."

"Shirazu let him go." Reina raised her hand in a stop motion.

Following her order he did so slowly. Looking back at his mentors he noticed that Haise was about to speak up.

"No matter what he says, my decision is final. Besides, I'm appointing Rank 3: Investigator Shirazu as Squad Leader." He pointed at the blonde.

Shirazu screeched and tried to protest. He had no idea what Sasaki was thinking, but this wasn't right. Him? Squad leader?! Those two things should never be in the same sentence. Haise reassured him that he'd teach him what it means to be a leader.

Turning to face the boy that was walking away he playfully hit him a small smile gracing his lips that didn't quite reach his ears.

"Urie. You keep disobeying me and I'll eat you! I'm a ghoul, remember?" He chuckled softly.

Having nothing else to say, the denoted boy just walked out the room. Noting Haise's weird behavior she walked behind him and patted his shoulder making him look down at her figure. She smiled weakly at him and left to follow after Urie.

She looked around everywhere and found him sitting on the couch by himself in the living room. Deciding to sneak up on him she quietly approached him and hugged him tightly against her chest. Startled at first he tried to pull her arms off of him until he heard the familiar sound of her voice reach his ears.

"Got ya." She tilted his head so he could look up at her.

Huffing he let her have her way with him. She let go and climbed over the couch to sit on the glass coffee table. Her small figure leaning back, strands of lilac hair letting loose from her messy bun.

"I'm going to make it quick since we have to wake up early tomorrow." She put it simply as she crossed her legs.

He looked her dead in the eye and motioned for her to get on with what she initially came here for.

"You need to learn to respect others, you know. If you keep up this rude attitude it won't make others like you. Now since I started living with you I've learned a few things." She started.

"You don't like sweets, so I don't know why you have that with you. Two you don't care for relationships, whether it's romantic or platonic it doesn't matter. You push those who care for you away all because of your personal goals." She sat upright and stood up walking behind the couch.

"Let me tell you from personal experience... you'd rather have friends or people you can call acquaintances than enemies. Why? Because you don't know when the last time you'll need them by your side is. If you have no one to be there for you, you'll feel lost." She leaned over it and whispered in his ear,

"I know you don't care about these mundane matters, but it'll come and bite you back in the ass. Especially if you mess with the wrong people." She breathed out and turned around to leave.

"And who would those people be?" His voice echoed throughout the vacant room.

The girl stood glued in her place.

"Since I started living with you I've learned a few things." He mocked.

She turned around and smirked.

"Yeah? Like what?" She taunted.

"You've been acting up since you moved in. Not a single time have you actually acted yourself. This little vulgar act you're putting up isn't fooling anyone. Who are you? Is the real question, Reina Nakou." His voice dripped of venom.

She smiled at his words and walked up to pat his cheek.

"I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, darling."

wc: 1.1k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: short chapter cause of writers block but also because I wanted to stop meshing chapters together for a bit. Next chapter will be a bit longer but shorter than the previous ones.

ps. school is gonna kick me in the ass soon so… spontaneous updates will ensue

Tag list:

Chapter 1: Remit to see, limit to see—Remind

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"Mornin boys, I'll be your escort today." Reina saluted them as they walked out the front door.

She wore a white button up blouse, leaving the first few unbuttoned to show off a good chunk of her cleavage. A coffee colored skirt that hugged her thighs, and her signature 3'' heels. She decided to forego the white coat with something more fashionable—a long beige coat that covered most of her from head to toe. Her hair tied up in a high ponytail.

Shirazu greeted her with a big smile and started to chat with her, but Urie on the other hand wasn't amused. In fact he was annoyed, but at least she was better than their other useless mentor—Haise Sasaki.

He rolled his eyes and walked away from both of them.

"Sorry to interrupt, 'razu, but Urie's leaving without us." She motioned with her thumb that he was at least a good foot away from them.

Quickly apologizing, the blonde boy scurried to catch up to the other boy and whined about how heartless he was for leaving without them. The purple haired boy remained quiet and didn't say a word and instead just kept walking.

Walking behind them she admired the scene in front of her, reminding her of the good times she had with her older sister before they started drifting apart. A small smile was etched on her face.

As they arrived at the warehouse the trio was met with an investigator.

"Aki—I mean Investigator Mado! I came to escort the boys to get their back up quinques." She bowed.

"Investigator Nakou, good to see that you're cleaning up your act. Good to see you too, investigators Urie and Shirazu." She nodded their way.

"Hey, I don't like what you're implying, Mado!" The lilac haired woman argued but sighed in defeat knowing it was true.

During the past few days she's been stepping up and acting more like a mentor than before. But she had yet to drop the facade she'd put up since she entered the CCG as mentioned after Akira spoke to her directly—though she had reason as to why she wanted to sell herself as the dumb-good-for-nothing-bimbo.

"Any progress with the case?" Mado ignored the whining woman and proceeded to converse with the two boys.

Shirazu beamed at the acknowledgement meanwhile Urie just answered her question—annoyed by all the small talk getting in the way of what they were originally came here for.

"A plain Tsunagi." Akira motioned as they were handed their quinque.

"That's so boring." Reina nagged.

"They're backups, and they're still as good as your own quinque."

"You mean Widow? My baby glides through everything so smoothly, I doubt these can be as good as Widow. Can't wait till you both get your own!" She turned to the boys and patted them on their shoulders.

"You two, don't neglect your quinques just because you can use a kagune. The quinque is an anti-ghoul weapon developed by former general chairman Yoshiu Washu—the father of General Chairman Tsuneyoshi Washu, in partnership with the German Bureau Chief Adam Gehenna." Akira went on,

"The CCG engaged ghouls with firearms back then but were ineffective against a ghouls' kagune. Research into an alternative weapon gave birth to the idea of using their own kagune against them—manufactured weapons based on a kagune. Quinques.”

Reina shifted from side to side seemingly uninterested with the topic at hand. She ended up zoning out in between the woman's history lesson on how they came to be.

"A soldier with a built-in quinque, if you will. That is what you Quinxes are. But, even with that ability—you are not ghouls. There are limits to a Quinx's ability." Akira turned to face them all,

"You've never seen Sasaki fight at his best, have you?" She asked.

Both males shook their heads at the higher up, meanwhile Reina just smirked at her question.

"No. But he uses a quinque very skillfully. There's much I can learn from him." Urie reluctantly complimented his useless mentor.

"Well if you both want to know, he's an interesting fighter. He uses techniques he's learned from the CCG until-"

"I think that's enough of that." Akria gave her a pointed look, meaning she's crossing a line that shouldn't be crossed.

"I didn't say anything." Reina giggled and surrendered.

The boys just looked confused as to what was going on between both their mentors. Urie though understood that Reina held a lot more information than she led on. Just how much did she know about Haise Sasaki?

Turning back to the boys, Akira told them to always use their quinques and bid them goodbye.

"Let's get going. I know you both want to go find Torso—and I know you both have a lead on him." She crossed her arms across her chest.

Her face was uninterested as she told them. Immediately Shirazu tried to deny her claim, but quickly came to find out that he was a horrible liar. She could clearly see through him and it didn't help that Urie's usual poker face was falling apart. Veins littering his forehead indicating he was upset at being caught. How foolish could he be thinking that he could get away with such information.

"So you mind telling me your lead or should I tell Haise about this little scheme you have?"

"I think you might wanna speed up if we wanna catch up with them!" Reina yelled, gripping on to Urie's waist so as to not fall off Shirazu's motorcycle.

The three of them piled onto the vehicle, while both boys wore protective gear in case of an accident, Reina wore none at all seeing as she was not involved in the original plan to capture and eradicate Torso. Urie inevitably squished between the blonde boy and lilac haired girl.

"Karao Saeki!" Shirazu yelled.

Behind him Urie urged the same message realizing that they had no chance unless they did so. The blonde concerned about breaking the law hesitated to do so until both of them yelled at him to hurry up. The cab in front of them waved side to side in an attempt to avoid oncoming traffic.

Quickly Urie realized they could have an advantage if a certain person had the capability to do so.

"Take out the tires with your kagune!"

"Are you serious?!"

Looking behind him he saw that the purple haired boy was serious about his idea. Groaning at the plan he did so but warned him that if he missed they weren't to blame him

Swiftly pushing on the gas pedal the blonde released his ukaku. It branched out, spikes formed threatening to detach themselves from their place. Attempting his best at aiming at the cab he released three missiles continuously all imploding as they missed the cab.

Groaning at his incompetence, Urie jabbed at his horrible aim, but Shirazu just threatened to knock him off the bike.

"Could you both shut up and concentrate on the task at hand?!" The forgotten girl scolded the arguing duo.

At this point they were noticed by the cops and were told to pull over. Taking this as an opportunity to alert the cops of the upcoming danger Reina looked behind her and motioned her hand in an upward direction. As if getting the memo immediately the cop car sacrificed itself and pulled up by the cab attempting to tell them to pull over .

But in doing so—Torso—ripped their faces off with his kagune and flung them through the window to dispose of them. With no driver to maneuver the vehicle around it slammed into the wall of the tunnel they drove into. Just as Torso thought he had escaped law enforcement officials, the end of the tunnel was blocked off with a few barricades and cop cars surrounding them.

The cab came to a stop and the drivers door opened revealing a thin, half-naked man with his shirt wrapped around his face in an attempt to keep his identity anonymous. Hopping off the bike they all assumed a stance, not even a few seconds later Torso released his kagune and struck at the trio.

Unsurprised they dodged his attack and moved aside letting the expensive bike take the hit. Regaining his composure quickly, Shirazu released his ukaku and launched his projectiles towards the "masked" man. Shocked, the man was glued to the ground which left him to be the perfect target for the Quinxes onslaught.

They made quick work of him until a new obstacle made themself known to the trio. A masked person in a coat walked out of the shadows, their kagune ready to strike at anyone that gets in their way.

"I'm sorry but that scrawny half-naked guy is ours. You guys are Quinxes right? You use a kagune, right? You Doves make me downright sick. You're no different from Aogiri." The clearly distorted voice echoed throughout their ears.

A sense of familiarity struck the girl. That bikaku, that tone of voice—she swore she heard it from somewhere.

"And now that you've made me sick... I wanna have some." He snapped his head up eyes piercing through the mask,

"Nish-" Reina was interrupted with a strike thrown her way. She backed up and instinctively hid behind the abandoned cars.

Decidedly done with her he switched opponents, Torso long gone from the battlefield. Rate: S Orochi was now the main target. He dashed past the girl and swung his leg into Urie's gut—sending him flying into the wall of the ditch. The boy coughed up blood from the sheer force of the kick to his abdomen.

"Sorry, but I don't hold back against Doves. You'll get in my way one of these days. Better to nip you guys in the bud when I can." He sneered as he neared the bloodied up boy. Behind him Shirazu snuck up behind him and released a few missiles his way thinking they'd absolutely obliterate the masked man.

"What was that? A pea-shooter?" He mocked the blonde boy as he simply dodged them.

Both boys quickly got fed up with all his taunting. Wanting to get this over with, they came at him with all they've got. They swung their kagune and attempted to strike him, but all that came was more frustration. They jumped and leapt from place to place destroying more and more of their surroundings.

He kicked Urie down to the ground, his kokaku shattered and destroyed. He sat down on top of the destroyed cars and looked down at the furious boy, mocking him.

"That's it? For a kokaku? All it took was a kick? Guess it's an imitation after all." He chuckled.

The sound of footsteps could be heard growing louder and louder as they neared—Shirazu. He quickly took a stance and swiped at him releasing his missiles a dust cloud quickly forming not allowing them to see the extent of how much damage the blondes kagune actually did to the ghoul.

Once it cleared away he was left unscathed. Realizing they didn't have a chance to exterminate the Rate: S Ghoul Shirazu opted to retreat until backup came, not wanting to risk his life for something he knew they couldn't handle yet. Angry at his words Urie didn't relent, but instead tried to push forward. His method of keeping alive—self cannibalism.

He dug his teeth into the flesh of his forearm, the sound of squelching and the aroma of blood overwhelmed his senses. Reina looked his way, the smell of blood enticing her to take a bite of him. She shook her head and walked towards them.

"Hey four eyes! Seeing as they're useless, how about we have a match of our own?" She yelled out, a smirk creeping up her lips.

The ghoul turned around and looked at her,

"What's a bimbo like you doing in the CCG?"

"Still judging others based on their looks, Nishi? How about I remind you how strong me and my sister were when we kicked your ass."

She released her rinkaku, purple like tentacles reached out in front of her and in the blink of an eye they cleanly cut his hand off. She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Shit, I'm getting rusty. I meant to go for your whole arm. Luckily I got the other one though." She mumbled as she waved it around in her hand.

Her squad looked at her in awe and fear, the sheer speed and talent to distract someone was a talent to have at this point. They looked back at his figure and noticed that he was regenerating at a quick pace. His thick bikaku swayed back and forth before it readied to strike her until a quinque split it in half. She dissolved her kagune and watched the back up she called come to their aid.

"Sasan!!"

"Sir!"

"Who the hell are you? The king of the imitators?"

"Mutsuki, contact Investigator Mado.”

The man didn't respond to his taunting voice and instead went to attack the ghoul without a second thought. He uttered a word in between every attack and dedicated each attack with his heart—thinking about his squad with each swing of his sword. The Rate S ghoul eventually caught up to his attacks and gave him a taste of what he was like.

The ghoul muscled him in the gut like when he did so with Urie a few moments ago. Haise doubled over and screamed in pain, his quinque out of reach, probably somewhere behind him. He stayed there for a while until he rose to his feet, raising his right hand—he cracked his pointer finger, the same crack released his kagune.

In an instant Haise's demeanor changed. No longer was he the looked down upon investigator, but rather a strong, intimidating man. Just as the ghoul tried to attack Haise, he moved out the way like this wasn't the first time he engaged in a fight with a high rated ghoul. This was the first time the squad saw their mentor use his kagune at all.

He skillfully jumped and leapt away whilst keeping up with his attacks against the masked ghoul. Within a few seconds Haise had shattered the ghoul's kagune, and though it regenerated almost instantly, it was still a major feat for them.

"You're— tough." Haise gritted through his teeth just as Orochi approached him face to face,

"Well, thank you." He kicked Haise in the gut just like before, but this time Haise regained his composure in an instant and his kagune reached out to grab his quinque and it settled in the palm of his hands.

The squad noticed that he was depleting in stamina, his dodging time slowing down to the point where he was dodging the attacks just in the nick of time. When Orochi struck him again he fell to the floor, immediately coming to his aid the squad reached out for him but he put his arm out.

"Stay back-"

"We can still fight!"

"We're not just gonna stand here and watch-" they protested, but all Haise did was look back and grin at them.

"That's an order. Reina, help me would ya?" He motioned.

Grinning from ear to ear she slid her coat off her back and let it fall to the floor. She released her kagune, long, thick, deep purple tentacles following behind her as Haise stretched before going back to attack the Rate S ghoul.

"You definitely intrigue me more than those punks." The masked ghoul hummed.

Haise chuckled, "I'm not sure if I should be honored. But I don't think you want to get to know... me." He cracked his knuckle and attacked him without a warning.

Haise showed no mercy, his actions were a lot more fluid and natural, his instincts told him what was right and what was wrong. When Orochi leapt away from Haise's attack, Reina formed her kagune into thin, razor sharp arms and pinned him into place... like a spider with their prey. They pierced through his skin, his shoulders and hips; the areas bled profusely.

This gave Haise the perfect opportunity to pierce Orochi's abdomen like before. Haise didn't have any reaction, he just looked concentrated as his hand contorted as if it was the one controlling his every move. That was until his second tentacle pierced through another part of his torso. Haise began grinning from ear to ear as he continued his onslaught of torturing the ghoul. Painful groans along with squelching noises could be heard from the pinned body.

"Just returning the favor.." he smiled manically, clearly enjoying this little show of theirs.

Removing his kagune from the ghoul's abdomen Reina shoved and grated the masked ghoul into the wall of the tunnel. When she let go he dropped to the floor like a rag doll incapable of moving himself around.

Pushing themselves off their kagune they reached the now unmasked ghoul. The girl picked up the mask and hid it behind her, meanwhile the boy straddled him and looked like he was going to give him the easy way out.

"'I'm dying I'm dying...' is that how it goes?" He coughed out as he laid on the street

The duo paid no attention to his words.

"Oh buddy, guess you still haven't found salvation, huh... Kaneki." He revealed his face from underneath the hood he had on.

That familiar face... orange hair..

"...nishio..?" Haise slipped out.

Haise lost his mind. Memories distorted, blank faces haunting him, mouths moving but no sound coming from them. The only sound he could hear was his name ringing in his mind... Kaneki.

"Guess playtime's over Nishio, take care." She said as she tossed him his mask.

Walking over to Haise she hugged him, her kagune shattering his. She held him as he thrashed around her hold, her grip never letting loose. His nails dug into her skin drawing blood from the scratches, his screams and wails echoed throughout everyone's ears. The pain he inflicted onto her was nothing compared to his.

Memories of her hugging her restrained sister filled her head. She called out her fathers name, her name, she seeked comfort from those she trusted. Haise in return had no one to tell him to cry it out, to let him feel. No one but himself, and not having anyone to remember them by was a greater pain none of them would ever understand.

She took his hits, his scratches, until they ceased into small cries. The RC bullet put him to rest for a while. They both collapsed onto the floor as he muttered his name, Haise Sasaki, over and over again. Looking down at him, Reina brushed his hair aside in a comforting manner hoping he'd find comfort in it as it was the only thing she could do at the moment with all eyes on them.

Although he still clawed at her, the pain was much more manageable. She ran thimble fingers throughout his full head of hair and nodded at his words. "You're you," she caressed his face with her free hand, wiping his free flowing tears. She noticed her subordinates looking at them... fear... jealousy... and awe was clear on their faces. She felt his hand grasp her wrist, she looked down. He looked into her eyes and was about to speak up—almost expecting his words she reassured him,

"You didn't kill anyone, don't worry. We're all safe. Get some rest now, Haise."

And with those words of reassurance he closed his weary eyes. A deep slumber falling upon him. Sighing in relief Reina picked the man up with ease and carried him into one of the cars their back up came with. Closing the car door she went to pick up her discarded coat on the floor and threw it over herself.

"We're riding elsewhere, I'm driving."

"Will Sasan be okay?" They mumbled out.

"Of course he will. He always bounces back." She smiled back at them before she entered the escorted car.

wc: 3.3k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: god i hate myself for cross posting this on so many platforms because of formatting. Next chapter will be the last one for the month. March i will post the next three chapters!

ps. i don’t care if you’re a minor or not, I know y’all are still gonna read. I’m not your guardian, that’s up to them. I’m not responsible for anything.

Tag list:

Prologue: Reina Nakou

masterlist next chapter

Reina Nakou, was a mystery to almost everyone who worked with her at the CCG. Her lively—almost childish manners—seemed to drive everyone away from her. And it didn't help that the way she dressed wasn't in any way modest.

Her lilac hair swayed behind her, her eyes glued in front of her. She wore black button up leaving the first two open revealing a bit of her cleavage. A tight blazer that accentuated her big bust, and a tight fitting skirt that hugged her curves. Her 3'' high heels clicked against the concrete floors, manicured nails raking through her hair.

People around the building mumbled about how provocative she was. Her name rolled off their tongue with distaste, rumors of her seducing the higher ups led to her promotion to become a Rank 1 Investigator. They rumored her to be a dumb bimbo who had no skill on the field, but was kept because she was a good fuck once in a while.

"It's a shame, she's got the body—but that's all she's got." They'd pity her.

Not once did they ever seek her out either, not unless some horny co-worker of hers tried to seduce her into bed. She'd always reject every advance,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"So you only whore yourself out with men with money? Just say you're a prostitute. How much is a night with someone like you?" He tried to negotiate with her, not noting her body language.

She was irritated to say the least, her eyes screwed shut as she sighed,

"Look, I'm not a prostitute—and I already told you I'm not interested. So, please, leave me alone." She argued, fists balled up ready to strike the bastard.

She left him outside the street as she walked herself home that night. Occurrences like these were becoming the new normal for her. It also didn't help that she was in the Quinx Squad.

The Quinx Squad made up of five other people (not including herself) were treated like a joke with little to no respect for them. It even tore the reputation of Investigator Akira Mado, daughter of Kureo Mado—a renowned Ghoul Investigator in the 20th ward. 

She was a blonde girl with deep purple eyes, and always acted professional no matter the circumstance. It's what she was known and respected for in the CCG.

Walking back out the building she called the first person that came to mind.

"Hey, Haise. Where are you?"

"By the Main Office with Mutsuki, but we've got bigger issues to deal with-" He sounded out of breath, the sound of wind prevalent in the audio feedback.

"Oh I just passed by there— hey wait I see you. Hold on, I'll come to you." She hung up quickly and ran towards the duo.

"What's wrong—and why are you both so out of breath?" She asked confusedly as she watched them gasp for air.

"Urie and Shirazu are probably pursuing a ghoul without notice." Mutsuki huffed.

"You mean the Torso case? Everyone's been talking about it—specifically Shimoguchi Squad since it's their case-" she was interrupted by a yell,

"You knew and didn't report this-"

"How was I supposed to know they were gonna pursue this fucking guy?! Ugh let's go, you've already read the details, haven't you?"

They nodded at her question and made a run for it.

"Those fucking idiots." She mumbled under her breath as the now trio grew closer and closer to the scene in front of them.

The idiots let their guard down after seemingly "defeating" the ghoul they were attacking which left an opening for the old ghoul to attack those two boys behind their backs. But before his kagune cut through their flesh it was stopped by a quinque making it rebound back to the owner.

"You fucking idiots can't even kill a ghoul correctly and you wanna do missions together." She sighed in disappointment while Haise only looked back at them and lightly scolded them.

"Never let your guard down," he said.

"Investigator Sasaki..." the monotone boy lulled out.

The sharp toothed boy only blanched seeing both of his mentors there; one looking upset and distressed and the other disappointed.

"I'll finish him off." Urie claimed more than offered to do so.

"No. 'The infliction of unnecessary pain against ghouls is strictly prohibited.' It's in the Ghoul Countermeasures Handbook. He could provide us information."  Haise remarked.

"But more importantly I said not to act alone." He warned them.

"But I'm with Urie." Shirazu started.

"He's right." Urie agreed.

"Don't be cute with us now, boy. Don't you know how dangerous it is to act alone?! For fucks sake you're injured." She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, her patience wearing thin as she pointed a finger in his direction warning him about his behavior.

"But we got results, didn't we?" He mocked them as he took his headphones out blocking their comments.

"Even if we gotten wounded, we would've regenerated eventually."  The monotone boy defended their actions mumbling a little 'takes a bit longer for me but...' under his breath as he walked away.

"If we keep following article thirteen we'll never get rid of ghouls." 

Getting tired of his shitty attitude she walked up to him grabbing him by the shoulder and slapped him. Everyone stood surprised, including the boy. His cheek stood red, a small cut from her nails led to small dribbles of blood flowing down his face from the small cut.

They'd never seen the kind, patient, and childish mannered woman become so serious and fueled by anger before—up until now.

"Get your act together before you regret your actions, idiot." She warned him.

"Let's clean this mess up..."

"That's 902 for squad leader Urie and 850 for Yonebayashi. 920 for Shirazu and 655 for Mutsuki." The doctor spoke as he handed the results to both Haise and Reina.

"Urie and Shirazu have RC factors on the higher side, since they've been using their abilities." He mentioned.

"I think they're using their kagune outside our supervision, should we stop them?" Haise asked worriedly.

"Tell them I said not to have too much fun, after all the quinxes are still a research project in progress..."

"But on the other hand Mutsuki's levels are basically the same as a normal humans. It goes against the original Quinx plan of utilizing ghoul characteristics." He finished.

"Makes sense as to why his progress in training hasn't improved much. He's still weak and slow." She muttered under her breath.

"And he can't control is kakugan. It's activated all the time."

"...well it's better than having no control and high RC levels. Too many RC cells and like a ghoul—he might not be able to eat normally."

…

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's alright. Oh we should get going, we have a meeting in a few." Haise waved off awkwardly.

"Alright. Oh and... Investigator Yonebayashi is a bit on the heavy side... tell her to watch herself." He concluded.

Both mentors said their thanks and walked to the exit.

"Seems the ghoul that Investigator Urie from Mado Squad confronted the other day wasn't Torso. Torso's currently an A rated Ghoul, but because no one has actually encountered him in battle, his rank is unknown."

"Maybe it's better they didn't encounter him." Mado said.

"In any case, we're on the Torso case. The Mado Squad needs to their own case." Someone on the Shimoguchi Squad barked out.

"That reminds me... I understand that the Quinxes followed up a tip about a possible Ghouls sighting. Something about growls... what did they find?" A different member of the squad snickered out with a cocky raised eyebrow.

"Stray dogs?! That's what the Quinxes do? They find dogs?!" They bursted out cackling.

Both mentors sat awkwardly watching their fits of laughter and mocking words towards them. Haise could only attempt to laugh with them in hopes to appear less embarrassed about their findings while Reina played neutral and oblivious to their comments.

"Ha-ha... yeah... it was a bit of a let down, but we're glad it wasn't a ghoul." Haise smiled awkwardly.

"Wipe that grin off your face. It seems Investigator Sasaki is something of an idealist..." the squad leader of the torso case  sneered at the way Haise was treating this case so lightly.

"Why wasn't a ghoul of that rating taken care of right then and there? He had no useful information. He's rate B at best."

"Civilian safety is our highest priority. That's what it says in the Ghoul Countermeasures article thirteen. Ghouls need to be dealt with swiftly."

"But clause two says 'the infliction of unnecessary pain against ghouls is strictly prohibited.'" Haise said as a matter of factly only to be turned down.

"I think you're misinterpreting. Clause two doesn't prohibit us from killing ghouls, just causing them 'unnecessary pain.' In other words ghoul investigators are expected to kill them instantly."

His lips puckered up as he continued trying to rile Haise up. Though it wasn't working because the man was too good for everyone, and Reina stayed acting oblivious letting Haise take the fall.

"Or do you sympathize with them... Investigators Sasaki? It's certainly a possibility with you. After all, a ghoul did-" he was interrupted by investigator Mado.

"Investigator Shimoguchi. Training my team is my job. I'll talk to him later." She reassured him.

"Investigator Mado, maybe you're not doing your job well enough. He demanded we hand over our case files the other day. I was shocked—thinking he could just take over our case!"

"Maybe he just got tired of your investigation being conducted at a turtle's pace... and tried to help." 

"What?!"

"Sasaki and I could close that case in ten days. But unfortunately we're busy dealing with Aogiri Tree. Even Sasaki and the Quinxes could get a physical description of Torso in a month."

"You little-"

"Mado, Shumoguchi... that's enough." Take Hirako, leader of the Hilario Squad intervened before the discourse could get more physical.

"The Torso investigation will be handled by both the Shimoguchi Squad and Mado Squad. So please share case files."

The room was silent until Shimoguchi caved in and reluctantly handed over the information.

Mado Squad: 1

Shimoguchi Squad: 0

"Hirako Squad will continue our investigation of the rate ≥S Orochi. That concludes our meeting for today." Hirako ended.

Everyone started gathering their things, all of the Hirako Squad left leaving both the Mado Squad and Shimoguchi Squad alone. Taking this opportunity Shimoguchi spoke up.

"Investigator Mado. A physical description of Torso in a month? I'm looking forward to it." He taunted, obviously thinking they couldn't do it within that 'deadline'.

"Yeah, and when we do, I hope we can look forward to some willing cooperation from your squad in the future." She ended.

"...fine." He said as he left.

A few seconds passed before Haise looked in Mado's direction.

"I'm sorry you had to cover for me, Investigator Mado." He apologized.

"Sasaki." Was all she said before she pulled him by the shoulder and landed a signature punch onto this abdomen.

She looked down at him as he crumbled to the floor by the sheer force of her previous action.

"I don't dislike your gentle temperament, but ditch it when it comes to battles. Your comment on clause two embarrassed me even."

She looked at the other girl who was standing behind Haise.

"As it is that you're already discriminated against more than the Quinxes. Don't defend ghouls. If you want to avoid any more Mado Punches. That kindness... it'll kill you." She turned away.

"We got Investigator Hirako's authorization. Get me a physical description of Torso within a month. I wanna see Shimoguchi's lips quiver in shame. And you," she turned to the lilac haired woman.

"When are you going to apply yourself? You're smarter than you let on, and yet you bring more shame and embarrassment to the Quinx Squad... I expect better from you the next time we meet." She hung her head low as she walked away, heels clicking every step she took until the sound quieted.

...

"Let's get you up. Come on." Reina said as she hauled him up.

He leaned over her shoulder in pain.

"Thanks." He grinned shyly at her.

""Investigators Sa-sa-ki, Re-i-na! Quite a scene in there." Spoke Ito. Another investigator from the Hirako squad.

"Oh, Investigator Ito." Haise acknowledged the man.

"I'll go check up on the rest of the squad, I'll see you at home, Haise. Investigator Ito." She clasped her hands together pushing her breasts together and bowed—taking her leave.

"I'm home!" She yelled once she closed the front door.

"Instructor Nakou? Where's Instructor Sasaki?" Mutsuki asked, his face a bit disappointed to see only her walking up the stairs to the living room.

"He got caught up with Investigator Ito, he'll take a while. Where're the others?" She stretched herself out on the sofa.

"They left to blow off some steam.. I think." He strung off.

"Do you know where they left specifically?" She straightened herself up-right on the couch.

"They wouldn't budge when I asked them." He shook his head in defeat.

"You tried your best, that's what matters most. I'll be in my room if you need me, night, Mutsuki."

"Goodnight, Nakou."

"A physical description of Torso in a month?"

"Yeah."

"A case Shimoguchi Squad is already struggling with in a month?"

"I know I'm asking a lot, but I think it's possible if we all work together. If the quinxes can come together as a group..." Haise remarked.

Shirazu just chuckled out a bit at his words.

"You really are something, Sassan."

"Shirazu..." Reina warned.

"I'm goin' it alone."

"No you're not. Sit your ass back down, kid."

"What's your deal? Got a crush on Sasaki?" Urie countered.

She whipped her head to look at him.

"I don't." She crossed her arms in front of her.

"Sure seems like you do. Always kissing at his feet since you've joined, praising him in every way. Seems like you really like him." He taunted.

She inched closer to the brats' ear. She didn't care for his words, she found them hilarious.

"I don't, but what's it to you? Mad that he's got my attention unlike you? Mad that I'm praising him instead of you? How cute. Maybe it's you who's got a crush on me. You want me to get on my knees and worship you like a god? I can do that."

She peeled herself away from him, fixing her gaze on his face. He was disgusted by her words and upset at what she was trying to imply. She just grinned mischievously and patted his cheek.

"Cheer up, maybe if you put your ego aside and actually thought of someone else other than yourself—you'd earn my attention and respect rather than hearing me berate you like a little puppy."

He just clicked his tongue and brought the conversation back to what it was originally about.

"I'll collar Torso in a month." He started before he made his way out of the meeting room.

Haise tried calling out to him but to no avail, he didn't care. Turning around, Reina looked at Haise's figure and saw him beating himself up for not being able to keep his team together.

"It's not your fault, they're just stubborn." Reina tried to reassure him.

Tooru just looked at them with a worried expression. So far it's only been him and Reina who's been making an effort to actually work together as a team. Everyone else like Saiko, Urie, and Shirazu work alone, or sometimes don't even bother to get up. More than anything, Tooru was losing hope.

"So they insist on acting independently, huh?" Haise started with an ominous tone.

"Fine, I think it's time to show those boys what I'm capable of. The three of us are going to bring in Torso, Mutsuki, and Reina. Before those two do!"

Haise started spewing a lot of things, things she wasn't bothered to really listen to.

"If you're done shouting then maybe we can get started with the actual investigation, Haise." Reina sweatdropped.

"Right. First step: Cochlea."

"Investigator Sasaki. Investigator Mado told me you'd be stopping by." The warden said as he was met with three faces, two of them being more recognizable than the third.

"Why hello, Haisaki." Reina waved at him with a smirk.

"Welcome back, Nakou." He welcomed, his voice void of enthusiasm.

Both Haise and Mutsuki looked between the both of them trying to figure out how they knew each other.

"As I was saying, Cochlea was hit hard when we lost Warden Misaka at the hand of Aogiri Tree. I personally have high hope for the Quinx Squad." Haisaki admitted.

He mumbled a little praise and continued leading us to where we were headed. Mutsuki was a tad bit nervous mainly because they were visiting a prison full of ghouls.

Reina noticed his worrying and hoped that her reassurance would calm him down a bit.

"Hey, don't worry. The walls are made of Quinque steel, and they’re weakened with RC Suppressants.." she scratched her nape.

Sasaki on the other hand just watched the two with a dazed look. There were dark circles under his eyes and small eye-bags that could be seen if you studied his face close enough. She nudged him a bit to wake him up from his little daze and he perked up a bit, seemingly startled for a little until he looked at the girl. She just smiled and nudged her head towards the big door that held who they were scheduled to speak with.

"Well, well, if it isn't Haise and Reina. I was just getting bored." Donato Porpora grinned whilst rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm surprised to see you've sided with the CCG, princess. Hey, where's your commanding investigator, Haise?"

"Akira Mado is on a different case." He put it simply.

"How does it feel to be under the thumb of a female investigator?" The man behind the shatterproof glass asked.

"It doesn't feel so bad when it's the thumb of a brilliant woman. How about you, Father?"

"You brought a new face with you today. Very young and... appetizing." Donato growled out getting as close as he could to Mutsuki with the glass being the only thing separating the two from his bloodlust and insatiable appetite.

Mutsuki could only stare in horror and backed up slowly as he felt himself pale at the SS rated ghoul words. He ended up tripping over his own two feet and fell to the ground looking up at the terrifying Russian ghoul.

"I would like to rip that stomach open at my leisure, and stuff my mouth full of plump organs." Donato’s eyes went wide as he salivated and went on and on about how he'd kill him and eat him up.

"Oh, you! Take it easy on him." Reina scolded the old pastor.

"I apologize." The elder said with a small smile.

"Oh, you! Take it easy on him." Reina scolded the old pastor.

"So... what are you investigating?" Donato asked as if nothing happened moments prior to his question.

"A ghoul that goes by the name Torso." Haise said as he pulled up the information.

The glass separating the prisoner from the investigators then displayed a map of every single crime scene.

"We believe he's using a vehicle to get around since his feeding range is so broad. All victims have been females." Haise explained.

"In addition only their torsos have been taken." Reina added.

The old pastor looked at the girl expectantly to continue. He knew the girl for quite some time, well enough to know that she already knew who the ghoul really was. But she didn't relent.

"I see.. the head is a very important part for a ghoul. Understanding what one is eating enriches the experience. Enjoying the rest while appreciating the face—or perhaps going straight from the head... to each their own." He kept his gaze fixed on the lilac headed girl.

"The head truly is the centerpiece of a meal. It's a single flower as the only garnish to a meal that may seem insipid to humans."

"To show no interest in that flower and to leave it behind—he must either be an awfully picky eater or have a refined palette." Donato put it simply.

Haise was ruminating. He felt as if there was more than just hunger fueling Torso. There was definitely something more and he felt it.

"...or does he feel threatened." Haise began.

"The eyes express emotions—the mouth utters words. A face contains an enormous amount of information. What if he's trying to block all that information... entirely?"

"A ghoul aware of his own powers... afraid of humans.. because-"

"He's blending into human society." The old man finished.

"Concealing his identity as a ghoul... working for a normal business. Most likely some kind of an errand boy. Cleverly fooling everybody around him while being tormented by his boss, the clients... a position that requires familiarity with the streets. For instance a cab driver."

With that everything in Haise's mind went off and memories of Urie submitting hundreds of cab receipts. All along Urie was on the right track, but because of the lack of communication Urie was holding everyone, including himself, back.

"Thank you for the insight, Mr. Porpora." Haise thanked as he left the room leaving Mutsuki and Reina inside.

"Have you told all of them?" Donato asked the girl.

"No." She replied, gathering all the materials left inside.

"When will you?"

"Soon." She hummed.

"C'mon. Let's go, Mutsuki." She waved her hand to signal the boy about their departure.

"Nice seeing you again, Father."

"Instructor Sasaki... why does the CCG keep that man alive?" Mutsuki asked, still spooked and upset between their previous interaction with him.

"When I look into that ghoul's eyes... I'm terrified." He shuddered.

"It's because he's a valuable source of information for the CCG. That's why the Bureau uses him. At least until... and I don't like how this sounds like either, but.. until they get rid of him." He explained the duo trailing behind him.

Though Haise works for the Commission of Counter Ghoul, he doesn't find pleasure or satisfaction in killing them. He's a gentle soul who tried to find the good in almost everyone, even if they are cold blooded convicted killers. He sighed silently in his mind as he looked to his right, Reina walking with a high held head. Meanwhile Mutsuki trailed behind them both with a low strung head.

wc: 3.7k masterlist next chapter

a/n: so that’s the prologue… how we feeling? Honestly idk what I’m doing. I grew bored and this is like the 3rd rendition of this FF. I’m somewhat satisfied with this one enough to post it so bleh. Masterlist has been uploaded!

ps. updates will probably like three posts every month if I’m lucky if not then I’m sorry. Writers block will kick my ass hence why this is the 3rd rendition of the original.

Tag list:

Who Are You? (Series Masterlist)

Kuki Urie x OC

Rated Mature (18+)

Reina Nakou, was a mystery to almost everyone who worked with her at the CCG. Her lively-almost childish manners-seemed to drive everyone away from her. And it didn't help the way she dressed wasn't in anyway modest.

Though those who decided to get to know her know that she's actually quite an intelligent woman, she just puts up this facade. For what reason? They don't know exactly. But as they dig deeper into her past, something doesn't add up.

warnings: canon level violence, mentions of rape, depictions of sexual content, nudity, sexual innuendos, alcohol, sex, fluff, angst, slow burn, gore, torture, masterbation

Started: January 2024 Ended: Published: February 21, 2024 (Cross posted on Wattpad, and AO3)

Act I: Auction

Prologue: Reina Nakou

Chapter 1: Remit to see, limit to see—Remind

Chapter 2: Regent

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

Chapter 5: Let it Rain Blood—Refrain

Chapter 6 TBA

Chapter 7 TBA

Chapter 8 TBA

Act II: Rose Extermination

TBA

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Act III: Cochlea Raid

TBA

Act IV: Goat

TBA

Act VI: Dragon

TBA

Tag list:

in another life

💕💕

:) you already know 😅 could you do prompt 50 with Kaneki or Urie with fem reader? Thank you, love! Your writing is always magnificent and can’t wait to read this one!

# tags: scenario; current marriage relationship; hot romance; also fluff (kaneki deserve it!); kid!fic, family!au; smut; nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual activities, on the sofa, kaneki wants another baby (breeding), unprotected sex, lactation, sloppy kisses, body worship, bites, pet names

includes: female reader ft. ken kaneki {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hii! i wrote about urie for you, so i chose kaneki this time :) i hope you find the plot and tags interesting and you enjoy it. i am also sorry you waited so long :(

50. “S-Stop. Someone is looking at us.”

You breathed a sigh of relief when in the tiny bedroom with two cute beds you could only hear faint snoring and calm breathing. Your (almost) two-year-old daughter had her eyes closed in a white cradle with a pacifier in her mouth, and your five-year-old son was sleeping peacefully in a small bed, cuddled up to his beloved mascot in the shape of a yellow tiger. At the same moment, the very pleasant smell of freshly brewed coffee reached your nostrils, so you just kissed your children on their smol foreheads and then left the room, closing the wooden door behind you. After a while, you returned to the kitchen where your husband was waiting for you.

In his hands there was a black mug with the image of a white cat, and next to his person, on the counter, there was a white mug with the image of the same animal. With a smile, you thanked him for the life-giving caffeine, and a moment later you felt a light kiss on your left cheek. Leaning against the counter, you started a conversation with Ken about light-hearted topics, and somewhere between the first sip of the hot drink and drinking it to the last drop, you moved to the living room, wanting to turn on a movie from the plan to watch list on Netflix app. It was a simple horror movie with a predictable plot and comedy elements. However, the horror faded into the background the moment you started talking again; about your husband’s friend’s birthday party, about household chores, about wanting to go to the mountains, about Ken’s job... There were quite a lot of topics, and the quiet evening and the presence of a few lights hanging on the curtain rod added a pleasant atmosphere between the two of you.

You haven’t had an evening to yourself for a long time; you were busy raising your children and taking care of the house and your husband working hard and earning money for the four of you. Plus, there were many other, unforeseen situations that were often full of emotions, stress, happiness, or great physical and mental effort.

That’s why you needed each other more than usual on this particular night.

The light kiss you received from your partner was full of tenderness and longing. His cool hands touched your waist at one point, and you smiled because of caress, almost melting between the blond man’s fingers.

“... Aren’t you tired, butterfly?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow, wanting to respect your possible tiredness and desire to watch the movie to the very end. But you shook your head, giving him a quick smootch on the cheek. Ken took that as an answer and then moved slightly closer to you, while settling your body on the spread out sofa, full of soft pillows and beige blankets. His kisses changed their position in a short moment and now, instead of your lips, his teeth were lightly biting the skin of your neck. A few long seconds later, with his right hand, he pushed aside the nightgown you were wearing and also kissed your breasts, which were still very swollen from feeding the younger child with your own milk. “You’re very beautiful, you know, love?”

Your both cheeks immediately turned red and your eyes sparkled a bit as you felt your panties being slowly pulled down. The long blue fabric stayed in it’s place, as did your husband’s pajama top. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a rather large bulge in Ken’s boxers, but you didn’t comment on it in any way. Too busy touching his body under the material of his clothes, you almost forgot about the condom you kept in several strategic places around the house. So you wanted to reach into the small, mahogany hiding place in the armrest, but your beloved grabbed your hand between his long fingers.

“Maybe you want to have sex without it?” He asked a little uncertainly and a little with hope in his voice; he also couldn’t hide the smile that involuntarily appeared on his lips.

“... Why?”

“Hmm. Wouldn’t you like another child?” He asked, pressing his cock harder against your damp pussy, and you bit your lip, feeling your body heat up even more. “You look very pretty when you’re pregnant, baby.” He added in a light whisper, nibbling on your left ear.

“Oh. Really?” You laughed, and then after a moment of thought, you nodded, retracting your hand and intertwining your fingers with your husband’s.

In a short moment of a few more kisses and sincere compliments about your future pregnancy, you could finally start enjoying your husband’s cock, perfectly fitted to your body, which was entering your wet as fuck pussy with the greatest gentleness. Young man touched specific parts of your body and face every now and then. He adored your breasts, your hips, your neck decorated with several red marks, as well as your deep eyes and lips swollen from pecks.

“Maybe this time we can have twins, huh?” He asked quietly, rolling up your shirt and pinching one of your nipples, and when some of the white fluid came out, he almost ejaculated right inside your hole, thinking about how good you would look with a big tummy and then with another two newborns. “What do you think, Y/N?”

“Mhm… Maybe.” You hummed, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. His fingers wandered through your partner’s soft hair and back, and he held your hips tightly as he bounced against your body. The tip of his cock touching the back of your uterus. You imagined your family growing even bigger and you almost groaned out loud.

However, instead of making any sound between your lips, you heard a slight creaking of the panels in the living room and you opened your eyes at once, looking towards the noise almost inaudible to the human ear.

“S-Stop. Someone is looking at us.” You whispered, your voice hoarse, and then you raised yourself slightly on your elbows, smiling at the five-year-old who was rubbing his eyes with his fists. “W-What happened, Kenji?” You asked your little boy, almost throwing off your husband, who quickly hid under the fabric of the blanket, and you invited the child closer to you.

“...I had a nightmare, mommy.”

“Oh, a bad nightmare? Well then, why don’t you stay here with us and we can talk about something pleasant?” You asked quietly as your son sat down next to you. The boy nodded tiredly and then snuggled closer to you.

You were embarrassed, but with full professionalism, you told a child’s story about dinosaurs and treasure hunting, every now and then sending a glance to your husband who didn’t even know how to react to the situation.

You two will definitely finish what you started, but first you had to take care of your duckling, who – in a short while – will fall asleep.

Could you do a Diluc x reader (one sided on readers part) and she sees he falls out of love with her (inspired by La gata bajo la lluvia-Rocío Durcal) make it as angsty as you can!! 🥲🤲

𝓛𝓪 𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓳𝓸 𝓵𝓪 𝓵𝓵𝓾𝓿𝓲𝓪

(Diluc x g/n reader angst Songfic)

Note: finally finished this. it feels maybe a little repetitive at the end but I'm still satisfied with it overall. the lyrics might be a bit off because I had to get the translation for it and that might not be totally accurate! Anyways enjoy and criticism and reblogs are appreciated!!!! requests are open!

TW: nothing much just angst no comfort, not proofread :<

“My love don't worry I wont bother you, and I know there's a torrent running through your mind”

He was different, ever since he had come back. You could feel the distance between you two. The words left unsaid, the late nights at the tavern, the times you woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't in the bed, the way his smile strained when he looked at you. It had been quite some time since you guys went on any dates, or even just sat down to eat breakfast together. The distance between you two expanded every day and all you did is watch, watch as the love of your life drifted away from you.

“Don't fear there's no reason ,I don't blame you for the past.”

You watched him build his walls.. He quit the knights. He pushed Kaeya away too. When he had told you that he needed to go away from Monstadt to clear his mind, you had thought it would be fine, that he just needed space after his father's accident. And though you wanted to be there for him, if he wanted to mourn alone, you would respect that. “I'll be waiting for you when you come back, no matter how long it takes”, you had told him. It took months, and he returned but also not at the same time. It was as if he had aged decades in that time. He was no longer the Diluc you that had fallen for you. You had smiled and hugged him, tears falling from your eyes, and he had hugged you back too, but his embrace no longer felt warm. You had held hope, maybe things would get better, he just needed some time, things would return to normal. And now, as you sat in the empty room you and him shared, it finally hit you, things were never going to be the same. 

"Love, I know, honestly don't say anything. If you see any tears, I'm sorry I know that you didn't want to make an injured cat cry." 

You were going to end things with him. It wasn't because you didn't love him anymore. No, far from it, you loved him too much, and he, didn't love you enough. Not anymore. But you knew he didn't want the same hurt you. Even after everything you knew he was still that kind boy you had fallen for, the one who would rather stay with you even when he didn't have feelings for you anymore just so you won't get hurt. But you couldn't do that to him. To chain him down. Maybe this was your last gift to him, your last act of love. You were going to let him go, even if it would tear your soul apart to do so.

“Love, if one day , we see each other out there, invite me to a coffee and make me love”

You stood in front of your house, with your bags packed, the rain falling on you. It made your heart clench. The memories you had with him flooding your mind. You felt like a cat in the rain, left outside, with no purpose or home. Because that is what he was to you, home. You had left a letter on the table, breaking it off and telling him to not look for you. It had hurt so much to write those bitter words, but for him you'd do anything. You were going to leave Monstadt and go far away, so that you could not convince yourself to change your mind. Maybe one day you’d return, when both of you have grown and his wounds wouldn’t hurt so much anymore. Maybe he would finally let you nurse them. Let you in again. Maybe one day you would be home again.

Hi it’s me again 😅 can’t get enough, so I thought of Ayato and prompt 12 with fem reader!! Them being childhood sweethearts. Again congrats on 4000 followers, you deserve it :)

# tags: scenario; friendship; fluffy shit; flashbacks; childhood sweethearts; human!reader; sfw

includes: female reader ft. ayato kirishima {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hello once again! i hope it's the ayato from tokyo ghoul (not from genshin impact or diabolik lovers), based on your previous request :) thank you for this prompt!

12. “But we are not married.” “Then marry me.”

You and Ayato have known each other for over eighteen years. Now you are twenty-four and twenty-five, have enough knowledge about life and also many situations behind you.

Your friendship is a sequence of pleasant memories, it’s dozens of trips together outside of Tokyo, weeks without contact and months of living in silence, your long-hour quarrels, your live together for three years in small flat, your ‘on college’ chapter, his being a ghoul and all the bad things he’s done, your own first love and his broken heart after several relationships with women... It’s all your moments with a glass of wine or something stronger, it’s just watching horror movies together until dawn, running away from important meetings, also your first serious work and all the other things that have kept the two of you apart for almost twenty years, but also made your relatio stronger than ever before.

You understood each other without words, you understood each other through gestures, facial expressions and the way of breathing. You knew each other perfectly, you knew about all your failures and about every, even the smallest, situation that made you smile or happy. There was no taboo between you, no shyness.

And although Ayato in your eyes has become a really handsome and calm guy, still looking at him to this day you are able to remember his much younger – seven-year-old – version, who stole your favorite bucket from the sandbox and argued with you that he just found it and had to take care of it... At first your friendship was turbulent and full of contradictions; the boy took your toys, scared you and ran away from you, while you called him ‘nasty black cat’ and ‘big dummy’. His father and your mother looked at you with light amusement on their faces, wondering when you will finally come to an understanding.

To this day, you remember how – after almost a year of friendship and playing together in the sandbox – Ayato approached you with a paper bag filled with cookies in your favorite flavor. It was a kind gesture that put the most beautiful smile on your baby face at that time. The boy thought it was really cute. It’s cute to see you happy and looking at him as someone you really like.

“...You should give me a kiss as a ‘Thank you’. I made them with my sister.” He said then an you only giggled under your breath. The present Ayato looked at you with furrowed brows and you just shook your head. You were at the coffee shop.

“But we are not married.” You said seventeen years ago and he just stamped his foot.

“Then marry me.” His declaration was sincere and loud at the time, causing your mummy to giggle and his dad to laugh out loud; he almost dropped the newspaper from his hands.

The memory only made you smile more and more, the tip of your nose turning slightly red.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” The dark-haired man put down the mug with the steaming drink, and you sighed amused.

“I just remembered something...” You began mysteriously, causing another surprised look to be sent in your direction. “It’s a really nice memory.” You looked down at the surface of dark coffee and could have sworn that for a brief moment your reflection looked like a six-year-old version of yourself.

Congratulations on reaching 4000!! I read your TG Drabbles and absolutely fell in love with your writing so I was wondering if I could get prompt 24 + Urie 💕💕 fem! Ghoul reader x quinx member Urie!! Thank you :)

# tags: scenario; kinda enemies/lovers and current relationship; light romance; drama; angst; ghoul!reader & quinx!kuki; crying, vomit and blood mention; dead body; kinda ooc!kuki (but not much); suggestive

includes: female reader ft. kuki urie {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hi! thank you very much for this request! i really like kuki and i am really happy that i can write about him! love u

24. “I’m a monster! Can’t you see it?!”

Your blood-stained long T-shirt, tears on your cheeks flushed with heat, a few strands of hair on the dirty floor, and the fear in your eyes seemed to the young Inspector an image that was downright terrifying, even nightmarish; however, not because of your appearance and the look of the room you both were in, but because of how scared and sad you were at that time. How much your eyes shone with self-loathing and how damned deep down you wanted to disappear and never be born.

“I’m a monster! Can’t you see it?!”

Of course he knew you were a ghoul. The walking grotesque, his enemy, the walking death, humanity’s greatest failure. A abominable monster.

He knew and watched you for months, studying your whole body and your behavior – he believed that he would eventually find a magical solution that would restore your humanity. He has kept you as a secret for a long time from the rest of his co-workers, from his command and from his own family. Although he knew every day that you could attack him, he bravely endured your outbursts of aggression and murderous desire, insatiable anger.

He was there when you vomited trying to eat a tomato and cheese sandwich, he was there when you cried into his shoulder, begging him to kill you, and he was there when you felt too human, wishing he would love you and stay with you for ever. He was in your worst and nastiest moments, but he was also next to you when you smiled slightly as you laid the last wild draw four card on the table and shouted a loud, almost carefree ‘Uno!’. He was always there and will always be.

It was hard for him to bear the sight of your hands in the dark liquid, your torn clothes and the traces of murder that were right under his feet. You killed an innocent woman who got a promotion in the family business two days ago. You killed a person who probably had a family who loved her, children who had to be kissed before bed, or even a dog who was eagerly waiting for her to put some of his favorite food in his bowl. You ate half of her firm, sweet flesh with tears in your eyes, and when Kuki caught you in the act, you nearly ripped out your own windpipe to relieve your own suffering. If there’s one thing you hated, it was definitely being a ghoul.

The silence between you two was interrupted only by your painful crying and the sound of cars driving down the street a few floors below. You looked alternately at the dead headless woman and at the man you loved, once again begging him to finally kill you. Of course, he didn’t do it that night, nor when you begged him to do the same three days later, clutching his shirt in a tight grip; behind you lay the lower limb of some five years old child.

It was hard for both of you to live with the thought that you loved a human and he loved a being he should have killed the first time he discovered your true colors. But he couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t.

You were both weak and pathetic.

Emmy, you are the sweetest person ever!! Thank you for your love! I truly am always so honored to see you around :) <33 ! I hope you're having a great day/night, lovely!

No, thank you, love! It’s always been a pleasure reading your works. I can honestly say I’ve never interacted with anyone’s page as much as yours which is saying something. Your works always intrigue me. They’re so eloquent, full of drama, and the themes in it always help out the plot of the story. The way your add more characteristics to the already known characters adds to them. It’s as if we see them as a person and not just a character we like, it’s someone we can relate to in our own way. I love your work and will always continue to support you, I’m glad to be there for you. Have a great morning :)

Please do read! Cherry’s work is always amazing. The plot and story telling is just so magical it ends up sucking you into the story itself. Also please read their other work too! :)

The Avarice Files (Preview) | Regulus Black

Synopsis: Former Auror extraordinaire, Y/N, is the newly appointed assistant to Head Unspeakable Gawdry of the Time Division. Though, the prestige comes with a burdening task assigned by your straight-laced boss: the retrieval of three ancient files lost through time. Boundless uncertainty ensues as you’re tasked to complete your mission with no one other than acclaimed hero of the Great Wizarding War and someone who everyone thought long dead: Regulus Black.

First Chapter Coming Soon ... Comment to join the TAGLIST

Daily Prophet: Defected Death Eater Dies!

— September 8, 1979

Second son of Walburga and Orion Black and Heir to the Noble House of Black, Regulus Black, has unexpectedly died. Just two weeks since the fall of You-Know-Who, reports from Albus Dumbledore himself confirm the young Black’s prior involvement with aiding the Light side against Death Eater forces. The Hogwarts headmaster conveyed that the young Black’s help was integral to the armistice and defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named . . .

the black cousins

all the hidden meanings!

colors:

red is the color of sirius’ shirt, narcissa’s lips and regulus’ pocket handkerchief. red represents how they rebelled against their family (sirius ran away and was openly against their morals, narcissa lied to voldemort and basically helped defeating him w her words, regulus turned against voldemort at the last moment, dying for his cause)

narcissa and andromeda are the only ones not wearing black, and they’re the only survivors in this picture.

clothes and accessories:

andromeda is wearing a white dress that resembles a bride’s dress, because she ran away to marry ted. her and sirius’s clothes are also less restricting than regulus and narcissa’s, because unlike their younger siblings they got their freedom.

andromeda, like her cousins, is wearing silver jewelry, aside from a gold ring (her engagement ring), and with her hand she’s covering a family pendant (she chose love over her family). regulus is wearing a pin that looks like salazar’s locket.

poses and such:

andromeda isn’t looking at the camera because she was the first to “look away from her family”, and sirius is looking at her because he would soon follow in her footsteps (andy also has a hand on his shoulder to further represent her influence on him). similarly, bellatrix (who is the only one smiling) is keeping an hand on narcissa so she wouldn’t leave. narcissa has a hand clenched in a fist, covered by her left, (as a way to hide her defiance).

ok i think this is all but i’m not sure lmao xx

hope you like it ^^

Glad You’re Home (TASM! Peter Parker x fem!reader)

Summary: You’ve known Miles Morales for years. You knew high school would be an interesting time for him. What you didn’t know was that would involve him becoming Spider-Man’s protégé. Nor did you know it would involve him bringing an injured Spider-Man to your apartment one night for you to take care of.

Warnings: Fluff, descriptions of injuries, hint of angst, mild sexual innuendos and lots of flirting. Reader also has a nickname. Set after No Way Home. Reader and Peter are in their 20s (post college).

Notes: I haven’t written in literal years, but couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Shoutout to @lipstickbisous​ for inspiring me to write the fluff you want to see in the world. 5.5K words later and here we are. 

Part two is up! As is part three!

You were beginning to prep dinner when you got his text.

MM: Hey, you home?

Yeah. Why?

MM: Need your help. Be outside in 5.

Keep reading

Second Son (Epilogue) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The new era. The end of one chapter, and the beginning of another.

Part XIX / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Thank you all so much.

You peer out of the fenestrated walls, eyes glazing over the faint swinging of wooden signs and veranda covers. The ambience around you swirls like a sheer veil as you lean back into your seat, sighing out blissfully as your cooling charm beats with fervor, shielding you from the blistering heat of the summer day. 

Dragging your eyes away from the bright view, you run your finger along the thick cardstock in front of you. The blocky letters begin to fade into the background of snowy mountain caps and faded waterfalls as you continue to trace your eyes over it. 

‘Greetings from OREGON’ 

You flip the postcard over and swipe a finger across the swirly letters. 

‘Hope you’re well, kid. - A. Fiske’ 

A sudden thudding noise echoes across from you, and you slowly shift to sit straight as your eyes drag themselves away from the letters. You tilt your head with a coy smile as your companion leans back to get comfortable, evidently miffed by the unrelenting heat waves. 

“Good to see you, B.” You smile saccharinely, fingers dancing along the chilled cup in front of you. 

Blaise rolls his eyes and places his own drink down on the table—iced americano, simple, bitter, and everything that Blaise wasn’t. You would never understand his fascination with the drink. He huffs before smiling sarcastically at you, “Yes, how long has it been? Two days?” 

“Don’t whine, it’s unbecoming.” You mutter playfully, twirling your straw around the rim of your cup. 

“Merlin, you’re even starting to sound like her. Really, no wonder mother finds you so endearing.” He tuts as he throws his elbow back to rest on the back of his chair. 

You chuckle and shake your head, “Okay, let’s digress then.” You lean forward and cross your legs, “How is Draco doing? Theo is irritatingly uninformed on the topic.” 

“He’s alright, thanks to you and Potter anyway. His father might not be facing a long sentence, but many of the elected Wizengamot heads are shifty even with your statements. Lucius Malfoy has been a slippery eel for a few years too long.” He hums, face unflinching as he sips on his potent drink, “How the mighty have fallen so.”

Nodding, your voice drops lower as you survey the rest of the cafe, “Azkaban will still do a number on him even with a lighter sentence. Narcissa is worried.” 

“As she should be,” he replies curtly, “and speaking of Azkaban, how is Lord Black nowadays? He’s become quite the hermit. Is he faring well?” 

You sigh and rub your chin, “Yeah, he’s just been busy with remodeling. He’s still quite miffed that Reggie and I decided to move out.” 

“At least he has Potter with him.” Blaise supplies, eyes darkening in rumination at the mention of Regulus. He levels you with inquisitive eyes, “Before I forget, what should I send over?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you hum, “How do you mean?” 

“Your house warming gift, daft one.” He rolls his eyes lightly. 

“Just bring your lovely self.” You huff out. 

Blaise crosses an ankle over his knee, “A vase then.” 

“If it clashes with the aesthetic then I’m tossing it into the basement.” You warn jokingly, smiling widely at your friend. 

He shakes his head with a muffled chuckle, “No worries. Anyways, you still need to unpack, right? Need any help?” 

“Oh? Work not keeping you busy enough?” You rest back against your chair, head bleeding with thoughts about how taxing work has been in the past few months with the Ministry trying to dial the reconstruction process to an inconceivable pace. 

Blaise groans at the reminder, taking a long sip of his drink, “Merlin, they should rename the whole Department! Department of International Magical Cooperation? What a joke, all they do is sit in an oval and squabble.” 

You throw your head back to laugh, a feathery light bubble of relief expanding in your chest. It was mind-boggling to think that not even a year ago you were all fighting for your lives, and now the same backdrop of fear that followed everyone around for so many years had disintegrated. People strided through halls and streets with lifted shoulders and bright eyes, war-hardened, but jovial as their burdens gave way. 

Blaise had worked his way up the Department of International Magical Cooperation, often leaving meetings with a sharp migraine and dwindling hope in the frequency of common sense. Theodore was faring well, now a highly revered Unspeakable for the Time Branch, all made possible with his swift denouncement of his father. Draco was the more withdrawn one out of the three, but you held out hope for him, having corresponded with him over his budding fascination for Alchemy. 

You found that your new friends were on your mind often, and you were endlessly grateful to them as they took Regulus’ reintegration into society with stride, often giving you advice on how to politely tell inquisitive reporters to bugger off. Meetings with them were slowly becoming a rarity as all of you became engrossed in work, but your friendships remained resolute as you all quickly became each other’s closest confidants. 

Luna wrote to you often, and you sent her trinkets and snacks by the dozen, finding yourself constantly worried that others would mistreat the girl with the absence of your friend group. Luckily, the girl found a friend in Ginny, and you were looking forward to reuniting with her during her Summer Break. 

Harry and Ron were inducted into the Auror ranks by Shacklebolt only a few weeks after the war. You had your reservations about their decision to jump into such a high-risk job, the stench of carnage and battle throbbing like an open wound, but they insisted that they would never be able to focus enough to finish school. 

On the opposite side of that sentiment, there was Hermione. She had quickly delved back into Hogwarts’ curriculum amidst its reconstruction, and was now looking to you with hopeful words about beginning her own sabbatical. 

You had published your research under both yours and Regulus’ name, omitting information about Regulus’ discovery of sentient portraits as a precaution for the future. 

You both respected Anders’ wish to leave his name off the cover and the research, but he failed to warn you against leaving his name anywhere else, so simply on the first page of your book, you dedicated the findings to him and Asger with a simple ‘For A. & A. Fiske.’ 

The research was groundbreaking, to say the least. You wouldn’t be able to forget the swaths of letters and documents from the Ministry, and one very heated missive to you from Blaise about how he was even more swamped with work, many foreign countries reaching out to inquire about the findings. 

It all paid off though, the royalties you and Regulus got would sustain you both for the rest of your humble lives, and the boost on your portfolio made getting a job in the Department of Mysteries a cakewalk. 

Once the sun rolled across the cloudless sky, the singing blues morphing to hues of pinks and purples, you bid your friend goodbye, wishing him luck with work and promising to gather with the rest of your friends the following week. 

You were certain that apparition was the most useful skill you had in your toolbelt, and you couldn’t fathom how you managed to survive the majority of your life without such a feat. As your shoes pad against the pavement, the bristling of leaves skidding around you, you let out a content sigh as you approach your destination. 

It was the closest thing you had to home for so long, and it still felt like safety and comfort despite the sudden heaviness of your own house keys in your pocket. As you pop the door open, head peeking around the heavy wood, your face lights up as a figure comes into view. 

“You’re home!” You exclaim excitedly, stepping inside with a wide grin. 

Harry approaches you and gives you a fleeting hug, hand raising to adjust his glasses as he pulls back, “Yeah, Tonks let me off early. How was your meeting with Blaise?”

“Good,” you draw out suspiciously, eyes narrowing as you both pace through the dim walkway, “how’d you know about that?”

“Regulus.” He answers simply, eyebrows raising in tease as you huff. 

You both cross into the threshold of the kitchen, stopping in your tracks as you see countless manuals splayed across the wide berth of the table. Regulus and Sirius are both hunched over in their seats, flipping furiously through the catalogues. 

“Some light reading, Sirius?” Your voice rings out playfully, body already moving towards your squinting boyfriend. Both men shoot up from their positions and blink owlishly at you and Harry, the sea of papers long forgotten. 

“Furniture shopping, pup!” Sirius replies with a tired grin as he stretches his arms over his head. 

Regulus rises from his chair and meets you halfway, arms wrapping securely around your body as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck. A few more moments pass by before he cranes back and blinks slowly at you, “Birdie.” 

You run a hand through his curls and smile lightly, “Love.” 

Regulus keeps you secure to him as he moves to drop back down into his seat, leaning his head against your stomach as you remain standing. Your eyes drop down to look at the varying bleak images on the shining white pages. 

Raising your eyebrows, your eyes drift around an image of a steep bookshelf with two glass doors, “Is this for us or Sirius?” 

Sirius leans back in his seat and rubs the bridge of his nose, “Your place. Reggie helped me pick out a few pieces earlier.” 

Your eyes wander around the aged cabinets and drabby wallpaper, trying to envision the space in a remodeled visual, one that would be Sirius-esque rather than screaming of cobwebs and medieval torture. You smile minutely before reaching a hand out across the table, bringing your other hand to card through Regulus’ hair as you mutter quietly to the tired man across from you, “I’m happy for you, Sirius.” 

The man reciprocates your smile and clasps his hand in yours, “Thank you, pup. I’m happy for you too,” he huffs and glances at Regulus, who remained immobile against your stomach, “the both of you.” 

The tender moment continues for a few more beats before Harry slowly leans on the seat next to Sirius’, eyes scrutinizing a forgotten pile of booklets off to the older man’s left, “Sirius, where are we going to put a lion table?” 

You snort out a muffled laugh as the man swivels over to his godson with beaming eyes, knowing that Harry would be whining to you later about Sirius’ ineptitude at interior decorating. 

“You should start cleaning up, Remus will be here soon for dinner.” You murmur with a pointed look at the trio. 

As the final outlines of the sun slinks away in the horizon, you and Regulus bid farewell to the occupants of Grimmauld Place, intent on spending the rest of the night in your home. It was fortunate that Regulus had managed to set up the floo network to your home only a matter of days before, and the journey back left little room for complaints as the green flames dragged away from your vision. 

You step out into the darkness of your study room, ears perking imperceptibly when the network flares again as Regulus joins you. The twilight sky filters into your home, dimly illuminating the barren room. 

“We’re home.” You mutter with a content smile. 

Regulus slowly pads towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sways you both. Your eyes are drawn to the French casement windows behind the desk, getting lost in the sight of the dancing flower field. 

“Shall we head to the cliff, birdie?” Regulus muses, eyes following your gaze as he drifts into rumination. 

You nod and reluctantly step forward, pivoting on your heel and dropping a hand onto Regulus’ arm, “I’ll meet you at the front? I need to drop off a few things in the bedroom.” 

“Of course, baby.” He leans over to capture your lips in a soft kiss, hands dropping to your hips as he lightly grips onto you. 

Humming against his lips, you slowly pull back and rub a thumb across his cheek, “I’ll be quick, promise.” 

He pecks your lips again and gives you one last squeeze before he slowly backs away, shooting you a warm smile as he makes his way to the entryway. You retreat from the study room soon after, making a sharp right turn as you pace towards your shared bedroom. 

Regulus had been the one to bring up the idea of getting a beach house, assuring you that he was unsettled by still water and not turbulent waves. It was a quaint building, one that sprouted into the center of a lustrous flower garden, and you both knew it was the one when you toured it. Just a short walk away from the blooming fields, a precipitous cliffside broke away and loomed over a thick landing of sand, giving a small brief from the swaying waves 

As you enter the lusterless room, you shed away your bag and walk towards your bedside table, propping the Oregon postcard against your lamp. Atop the same white bedside table sat Regulus’ old golden frame, now whole and without trace of ever having been shattered. Under the frame, the folded piece of paper that Regulus had given you the night after you bought the property peeked out. 

You grasp both items in your hands, and smile lightly as an idea formulates in your head. 

“Kreacher!” You call lightly. 

The house-elf pops into the bedroom with a curious frown, teetering towards you as you extend the items out. You fish out your wand as Kreacher grabs the frame, muttering a faint engorgio at the rectangular object. The frame wobbles in the elf’s grasp before slowly stretching to nearly thrice its original size. 

“Could you possibly frame this note for me? Maybe above the headboard?” You request with a small smile. 

“Kreacher will do that.” The house elf nods and begins to fiddle with the frame. 

Your eyes run across the note one more time before you hand the slip to the elf, making your way out to Regulus with a fleeting farewell. The boy has a jacket slung over his arm as he waits for you by the door, carding his hair back as a flicker of joy flashes through his eyes when you appear in his line of sight. 

“All ready?” He murmurs once you reach him. 

“More than ready.” You reply with a hum, leaning to peck his cheek. 

The trek towards the cliffside passes by in the blink of an eye, and you’re left with butterflies in your stomach as Regulus picks several tulips for you along the way. By the time you’re close enough to the ocean to hear the crashing of waves, you are left to huddle close to Regulus for warmth. 

The sky begins to darken above you, but you give no protest when Regulus drags you to sit down on the ground. He peers up at the sky above him, eyes tracing across the faint twinkles of the approaching stars. 

You bring a hand to trace his chest as you do the same, cradling the flowers to your side as you begin to sift through the reel of memories in your head. 

“I love you, birdie.” Regulus whispers into the air, his arm moving to rest on your waist. 

You smile widely and press your face into the crook of his neck, “I love you.” 

And as you both laid under the stitches of glowing stars, sharing tiny whispers and shielding each other from the brutal winds, back in your home, Kreacher makes the last adjustments to the new wall decor. 

Kreacher mutely assesses the space as he backs out, the elf’s head full of future possibilities.

It was peaceful. After so many years, he felt at peace.

The door closes with a faint click just as the stars peek through the bedroom window, reflecting off the glowing frame. The swirls of inks encapsulated in the shining beams dance amongst the canvas of the wall. 

‘29 October, 1979

I wonder what being in love feels like. 

26 April, 1999

Love is like flying freely from the inhibitions of your burdens, where your person is your wings, your eyes, and your heart; you soar freely with the knowledge that they will carry you above the storms of doubt. I no longer wonder because now I know.’ 

Fin.

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Second Son (XIX) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The Battle of Hogwarts ensues.

Part XVIII / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Only the epilogue remains, my dear readers. Thank you. Final wc: 8.6k

Time seemed to be warping and blurring together frenziedly; day and night pushed out of conscious thought, the passage of days folding together in one reel of memories in your head. The starless sky peered at you like an endless void, indicating that it had somehow already dipped into the corners of the darkest hours again. 

Your heart gives a sharp twinge as you find your eyes locked to the tall figure standing at the head of the hall, face ashened, mournful cloak adorning his imposing figure like a blanket trimmed directly from the night sky. Harry lingered ways off from you as everyone stood with tense backs and squared shoulders. 

You blink away the detachment tugging at your awareness as your ears seem to become full of cotton, keenly aware of the way your wand poked at your ribs from your robe pocket. Your former Potions Professor flickers his gaze around the swarms of students around you, and your chest almost collapses in on itself when you lock eyes with the stone-faced man. Snape’s eyes widen ever so slightly, but he masks it with a sneer as he raises his eyes to look over your dismayed face. 

Your mind immediately spins into overdrive as you grapple with your thoughts. That couldn’t have been your imagination. He saw you, so why didn’t he say anything?

A frown dances on your lips as you revisit your old sentiments about the man. You had always had your reservations about Harry’s inimical attitude towards Snape (though he had them for good reason), and you were beginning to think that you were correct in your assumptions that the man’s interests weren’t exactly black and white. 

Harry drifts through the rows of students and makes himself known, immediately pouring out all of his pent up fury towards the man. Snape’s face does a funny thing as it shifts ever so slightly from suspicion to troubled. 

The doors from behind you are tossed open, causing everyone to step back towards the walls as all heads dart to survey the intrusion. At the helm of the group, Kingsley Shacklebolt strides in with more assurance and conviction than you’ve seen in any of Dumbledore’s followers since his death. 

Stepping out from the belt of students, you unconsciously begin to reach out towards Regulus. The boy’s eyes move through the crowd furiously until they lock onto your drifting figure, his shoulders immediately slacking as he extends his hand out to you. 

A smile crawls up your face as you hurry out of the crowd and towards him, unbothered by the burning of eyes on your back as you do so. Once you grasp the boy’s hand, he brings your hand up to his mouth to give it a faint kiss, shooting you a small wink as he tugs you closer to him. 

The Order members hold their unwavering stances, faces etched with determination as they gaze at a frowning Snape. The man’s eyes are still fixed on Harry, seemingly unperturbed by the arrival of the Order and the overt breach of security. 

Harry grits his teeth as he practically snarls at the man, “Tell them how you looked him in the eye, a man who trusted you, and killed him!” Your friend’s chest heaves with every word, as if the recollection of the events was causing him physical pain. 

You edge closer to Regulus as your eyes flicker between the two individuals. It was a stand-off that had been brewing for years, finally sizzling and tipping past the boiling point as your mind takes you back to your very first year at Hogwarts, painted with Snape’s glares and Harry’s innocent confusion. No longer was your friend inflicted by such adolescent hurt, now only rage and fatigue shrouding from his body. 

It happens in a flash, you nearly miss it as you blink—Snape draws back and points his wand at Harry, eliciting choked gasps as the crowd of students split  further apart in shock. Regulus steps in front of you instinctually, and if the situation were not escalating to such a degree, you would have found it funny that he jumped in front of you despite having no weapon or wand. 

As Professor McGonagall pushes Harry aside, firmly drawing her own wand up, you push Regulus behind you as you reluctantly bring your wand up to point at the man you had made so many mental excuses for. Snape falters at the sight of the woman’s stance, but regains his composure and levels his wand to her. 

Silence falls upon the hall, tension as thick as molasses as everyone draws in their breaths in anticipation. For a moment, you think nothing is going to happen, that perhaps Snape would magically curl into regret and surrender, but then a bolt of flames soars through the air. 

McGonagall is unforgiving in her onslaught of attacks, and Snape merely backpedals from his spot as he deflects the spells. The man’s face falls impossibly further into hurt, and you’re struck with a whirlwind of confusion. 

Why do you look like you’re the one who’s suffering, professor?

The one-sided battle recommences and you’re left rooted in your spot as Snape suddenly flees out of the window in a flurry of black swirls. As the glass shatters, a cloud of excitement seems to sprout into the air as shouts and whispers fill the perimeter. 

Regulus places his hands on your shoulders as you pocket your wand, your eyes still glued to the broken glass at the end of the hall. The cheering and clapping die almost as quickly as they erupted when Harry collapses, a sudden sharp stabbing in your head accompanying your friend’s stumble. You hiss as you reach for your temple, noting how the hall was now blanketed by a miasma of fear. 

Suddenly, a piercing scream slices through the air like cold steel, followed by another and another. Regulus huddles you to him as he peers at you with concerned eyes, his hands moving to trail your arms as the buds of chaos begin to prickle around the room. 

A sharp hiss rings from all around you, and you would have feared for your sanity if not for the petrified expressions on many of the other students’ faces. 

“Give me Harry Potter…Do this and none shall be harmed.”  The words seem to bounce around the room as you guide your eyes to settle onto Harry’s stiff figure. 

“Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched.” 

You divert your gaze to look at Regulus, and find that the boy is already glancing at you with conflicted eyes. 

“Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have one hour.” 

The tint of doom seems to lift almost immediately, and you exhale shakily as the foreign pressure around the atmosphere dissipates. 

“What’s that look for, Reg?” You whisper, unwilling to raise your voice as confusion stirs the air into silence. 

Regulus huffs through his nose and wraps his hand around your wrist, stepping to stand beside you as he looks towards Harry, “Just wondering if it’s too late to leave and go back to Norway.” 

You shake your head and go to retort, but you’re cut off by a resounding voice emitting somewhere among the swath of students, “Someone grab him!” 

Your eyebrows furrowed together at the outlandish suggestion and your eyes trail about to try and distinguish who it came from. Seeing many of the gazes aimed towards a cluster of Slytherins, you tilt your head as you see an unfamiliar boy pointing towards Harry. 

Ginny makes her way in front of Harry, spurring the rest of your friends to crowd around the speechless boy. As your eyes begin to wander, wanting to take note of those who were readily jumping to serve your friend on a silver platter, you make eye contact with an unimpressed Blaise. 

The boy’s eyes flicker to look at Regulus before they jump back to you, an eyebrow slanting up in a manner that reminds you all too much of the Contessa. Blaise slowly slinks towards the back of the crowd just as Filch hobbles into the hall, shouting incoherently about students being out of bed. 

“You have some explaining to do.” Blaise’s velvety voice sounds from behind you, causing you to jump out of your skin.

Turning around on your heels, you slam your palm against your chest to jumpstart your heart again. Did he apparate? How the hell did he just appear behind you?

Rolling your eyes, you give the boy a brief hug, “Nice to see you too, B. Sorry that I went AWOL, I wasn’t exactly in contact with anyone.” 

“Except my mother.” He points out with a sniff, arms crossing. 

Coughing lightly into your fist, you sheepishly smile in apology, “Nothing big, just aiding some vigilantes.” 

“You are a vigilante yourself, no? And you couldn’t have sent a little slip of paper telling me ‘hey, I’m alive!’, could you now?” He mutters with narrowed eyes. 

Shifting from foot to foot, you lightly frown, “Uh, sorry?” 

He waves you off before setting his eyes on Regulus, who looks infinitely amused by your friend’s antics. Blaise pauses for a split second before a shit-eating grin plasters itself on his face, “Oh, how prestante! You disappeared and found yourself a pure blood boyfriend, I see.” 

You blanch at his words and he snickers, “Merlin, don’t look so surprised. His facial structure just screams pure blood.” 

“Okay, that’s enough of you, B.” You hiss, “You absolute menace.” 

The boy doesn’t have time to respond as students begin to file out of the hall, someone bumping against your shoulder as McGonagall announces that students would be evacuated, underage students taking priority, while those of age were welcome to stay. 

Your eyes widen at the announcement, the reality of your situation crash landing on you all at once. “B, go. And look out for Draco, will you?.” You point your chin forward, eyes flying around the room before you settle them on Regulus, “Reg, go with Blaise.” 

Regulus swivels to look at you with wide, disbelieving eyes, “I hope you’re joking.” 

“And I hope you’re joking. I’m not letting you run into danger without a wand!” You shoot back emphatically with a sharp tone. 

“Dio mio,” Blaise clicks his tongue, gracefully shoving his wand towards Regulus, “Here. If you break it or lose it, my dear Y/N will no longer have a boyfriend.” 

You and Regulus pause. One beat of silence passes, then another. 

“Blaise, what the bloody hell? Absolutely not! Your mother is going to have my head if she finds out that I left you defenseless.” You sputter, hands flying up and nearly batting into a passing student. 

The boy shifts to the side to avoid a stumbling first-year as he keeps his eyes steady on yours, “Good thing she’ll never know then. Besides, I won’t be needing it. I plan to apparate to Zabini Manor with Theo and Draco once we get out of here.” He rolls his eyes impatiently once you and Regulus remain motionless, “Now take it before I change my mind.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” You mutter quietly, eyes trailing towards the dark wand, feeling torn despite your friend’s insistence. 

“Well, he’s going to follow you anyway, and I’d rather be temporarily without a wand than permanently without a friend because you jumped in front of a curse trying to protect him.” He muses dryly, eyes quickly shifting to appraise Regulus as the boy reaches for the wand. 

He was going about this way too casually, a wizard’s wand was practically their life! But there was no arguing with the obstinate git, especially when he had that determined look in his eyes. 

You nod and swallow harshly as your throat wells up with thick emotion, “Thank you, B. Stay safe, okay? And make sure Draco doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

“No worries, our dragon is all out of stupid after what happened last year.” The italian winks at you before elegantly spinning around, his robes billowing behind him as he strides towards the exit, weaving his way towards a familiar mop of platinum blond. 

Regulus twirls Blaise’s wand around in his hand as he gets used to the feeling. He looks over at you with a warm smile, eyes twinkling brightly as a fire lights in them, “Always a good judge of character, birdie. Indeed, you are proficient at picking friends.” 

“Clearly not proficient enough, Crowface. I managed to grow attached to a stubborn bastard like you.” You hum playfully, taking a hold of his wrist to drag him towards your circle of friends. 

Though, one meaningful glance from your savior friend was enough for you to understand: split up and haul ass. 

Hermione and Ron take off in search of the basilisk corpse in the Chamber of Secrets, while Luna gives you a small smile before darting off towards Harry with a frustrated frown. Professor McGonagall almost breaks her neck doing a double take at Regulus, clearly recognizing him, but says nothing of her revelation as she ushers you with her. 

Regulus trails after you both, flocked by Professor Flitwick and Molly Weasley, both giving the boy discreet side eyes. 

“L/N, we are going to need to give Potter as much time as possible. I’m sure you have an idea of how you can utilize your skills.” The woman gives you a small knowing smile, and you nod back quickly despite not knowing exactly what she was insinuating. 

It is not until she spins back around and braces her hands up that your brain begins to work again. 

“Piertotem locomotor!”

Your eyebrows furrow at the foreign spell, but your attention is immediately redirected when a deep thudding echoes from somewhere in front of your willowy professor. Peering around her, your eyes widen as numerous concrete knights begin to march out in streams from the entrance hall. 

Ah. We’re Harry’s first line of defense. 

Winking at a fascinated Regulus, you couldn’t resist the urge to demonstrate your own magical prowess, wanting to match up to the boy’s level of intellect. Drawing your wand out, you scurry down the series of stairs and drop to your knees, beginning to draw out the most complex shielding runes you knew, tangling the swirls of characters into compounds of symbols that begin to shimmer against the dull ground. 

The strings of characters glow brightly before darting off into the sky in a flurry of streaks, reinforcing the growing bubble being patched together by the Order members. You continue to relentlessly draw your symbols, the ache in your wrist being overshadowed by the warmth of pride that lit up in your chest at the sight of your runes chaining themselves to the colossal dome. 

Ways off from you, you see Regulus marveling at the sky, eyes dancing around the strings of your runes. Your brain screeches to a halt as you zone in to look at the boy, mouth floating into a faint smile at the way his lips imperceptibly part. 

It was paradoxical, how at the height of slaughter and war, you fell into a hum of peace at that very moment. Your drifting thoughts only surge forwards when a procession of wispy blue streams hail towards the near-translucent dome, raining down towards you in mottles of cerulean orbs. 

Just as you begin to rise from your position, knees wobbling unsteadily along the way, the feathery streaks crash into the shield and explode into veins of white combustion. The loud crashing of explosions deafen you, and you stumble in blinded shock towards Regulus. 

The boy is already making his way towards you, face grim as he strides across the plaza with purpose. You barely refrain from crashing into him as he reaches to hold onto your biceps. 

Blisters of blinding white wash over your figures as you grip onto his elbows. Chancing a glance at the sky, you laugh shakily, “Think you still know how to handle a wand?” 

Regulus smiles and cups your cheek, “Of course, I have to protect you somehow.” 

“Your sense of humor dazzles me, love,” you search his face, opening your mouth to continue your retort, only to be disrupted by a painfully loud explosion, followed by the sound of insistent sizzling. 

Above you, your beloved crown of protection withers away like disintegrating paper. 

Chaos erupts almost instantaneously with giants lumbering through the concrete knights on the bridge, as arrays of colorful light fracture the structures around you. You catch a glimpse of Professor Flitwick scurrying around the crumbling soldiers, hands gesturing frantically for the students to take cover inside. 

The rune weavings that you spelled float listlessly until they gravitate towards the castle, speedily wrapping around a couple of the towers and absorbing into its walls. Regulus grabs your hand and you both sprint for cover behind a pile of rubble, ducking as gusts of apparition soar above you. 

Screaming begins to bloom into the air, followed by hurried shouts of curses and spells. You spring up onto your heels, wand at the ready as your eyes dart around frantically, heart virtually beating in your neck. 

“Crucio!” 

Your neck snaps to the side at the guttural yell, barely muffling a yelp as a red bulb of light zips towards you. Dodging the spell, you feel a symphony of rage tug at your nerves at the sight of a familiar death eater—the man who had grabbed you during the attack at the Department of Mysteries, Augustus Rookwood. 

Practically swinging your wand, you hurl your spell, “Reducto!” 

The man goes flying across the courtyard, smashing through a cracked archway before landing roughly like a ragdoll. You feel someone press against your back, barely taking note that Regulus and you were fighting back-to-back before another death eater sets their sights on you. 

You don’t know how much time passes as you and Regulus weave through onslaughts of killing curses, blasting aside enemies and assisting other students in their duels. Your world of blurry fighting trickles into clarity once you catch sight of an enormous giant swinging down at a familiar trio, all of them sprinting further down the ruinous remains of one of the castle walkways. 

“Paxillos Inferni!” Your shout echoes all around you, and your vision tunnels in on the cast of neon orange that darts from the tip of your wand. A wave of satisfaction drenches you as you see the giant drop its weapon in surprise, body jolting in agony before dozens of small razor-like spikes sprout from its body, suddenly expanding in size with a sickening crunch. The giant drops to its knees, a lifeless husk, remaining upright, supported by the flurry of colossal spikes that impaled it from every direction.

A few death eaters in your vicinity stop in their tracks, eyes widening as they take in the sight of the shredded giant and your bright eyes. Regulus swings his arm forward, sending a death eater packing before taking notice of your victory. 

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” He mutters reverentially, eyes drifting from the carnage around you before settling on the palisade-giant fusion. 

You shrug before taking advantage of the wave of shock around you, incapacitating a few lingering death eaters, “In one of the books at Grimmauld Place.” 

“I see. Nice work, dear.” He hums, tying up a sprinting death eater before the crazed woman could attack a distracted Hufflepuff. 

A sudden chill ensnares the nerves in your spine and fingertips, and you have to suppress the violent shudder tugging at your muscles. Risking a glance away from the enemies in front of you, your mouth falls ajar at the sight of a curtain of black drifting towards you. 

“Dementors.” You murmured, unnerved by the sheer amount of the creatures making their way over. The golden trio tumble forward and become struck by the same sight. The dementors drop down towards the bridge, swinging and weaving around fallen bodies and chunks of concrete. 

A gust of blue threads tangle into a large sphere before expanding across the bridge, the exceptionally powerful patronus charm managing to ward away a majority of the dementor army. Your eyebrows fly towards the sky as you catch sight of Aberforth, the man’s wand extended out towards the retreating veils of grey. 

You had no idea the man was even capable of producing a patronus with how downtrodden he seemed just hours before. This would be the last time you’d judge a wizard by their supposed disposition. 

Catching sight of a few stray dementors, you instinctually raise your wand, expertly locating a few specific memories of yours to manifest the spell, “Expecto Patronum.”

The familiar sparrow bursts from your wand and darts towards the dementor, the creature immediately retreating into the sea of darkness as the small bird perseveres in its chase. 

“What?” Regulus’ breathless mutter has you directing your attention to him, eyebrows raising at the astonished look drawn on his face. 

Feeling bashfulness crawl up your chest, you clear your throat and jump back into battle, only sparing him a small biting remark, “Laugh about it later.” 

The boy follows your lead and sends a hex towards a cluster of death eaters, “Laugh about what?” His voice is tinged in disbelief, yet still marred by his previous amazement. 

“What do you mean, about what?–” you blast an unsuspecting death eater in the side, “--Obviously about my patronus.” 

“Why would I laugh?” He practically yells over the commotion of explosions raining from all around you. 

You want to groan, feeling that perhaps he was trying to torture you, “Because! It’s a bird. A little birdie.” The boy glances at you with a minute frown of perplexion before his eyes slowly shift in realization, head snapping back to take down a few more enemies. 

Once the mayhem around you quells in just the slightest, he turns back to you, “Merlin, what am I going to do with you?” He mutters with a faint grin. Before you have time to question him, he shifts around and lifts his wand up, “Expecto Patronum.” 

The light blue swirls jet out from the borrowed wand and you raise an unimpressed eyebrow as it surges towards a confused death eater, the man watching as the spell flies towards him. You really couldn’t blame him—you too, would be rendered speechless at the arbitrary display. 

Just when the spell goes to topple into the man, it morphs into a familiar shape that has you gasping. Regulus’ small patronus sharply shoots up into the sky before it can crash into the death eater, the small bird rounding in circles before dissipating into the night. 

You and Regulus don’t miss a beat despite the demonstration, both taking aim at the flabbergasted death eater and sending off your best hexes. Once the man goes tumbling away, Regulus turns towards you, “A finch.” 

“A finch…” you echo quietly. 

Finches and Sparrows. Complementary birds.

“You-” you can barely comprehend the look on Regulus’ face as he breaks out into a wide smile. Your mouth parts, taken aback by how blatant his fondness was. 

“My little birdie.” He whispers affectionately, leaning to rest his forehead against yours. 

Your heart stutters on the spot, and you have to close your eyes to try and grasp onto reality. Regulus’ hands dance around your waist as colorful blobs spiral across your eyelids, the stench and discord of war suddenly shoved out of the forefront of your mind. 

Opening your eyes, you take a brief moment to peer into the boy’s eyes, mouth pursing once you see the fire dancing in them. 

“Blast me into a wall if you hate this.” You whisper. Regulus merely grins, immediately understanding your thoughts, and looking anything but bewildered. 

Giving no time for lingering doubts to fester, you surge forward and crash your lips onto his. He reciprocates immediately, gently nudging you behind a mountain of rubble as his lips dance with yours. Your hands run around his sides, seeking something to ground yourself to as he leans in further, completely pressing himself to you. 

His hands press themselves into your back, pushing you impossibly closer to him as if he were afraid you’d fall through the ground and disappear. You both continue to clash together for a dizzying amount of time, only stopping once the burning for oxygen practically imprints itself into your lungs. 

Pulling back with a huff, your eyes widen in disbelief. Reality comes crashing into you like a bludger as your eyes jump around every little freckle on his face. Regulus’ chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, eyes refusing to stray from yours. 

“We-” you utter, voice practically a squeak. 

Regulus’ eyes flicker with mirth before he drops his head to sprinkle fleeting kisses on your jaw and neck. Your hands freeze against his chest, not knowing how to handle the hot flash of disbelief and giddiness that sinks into your frame. 

Your brain was glitching, perhaps even smoking out of your ears. 

Eventually, you gently push the boy off of you, eyes already flying around in search of approaching enemies. Flashing the boy a warm smile, you slowly begin to emerge from behind the mass of concrete, “Let’s continue this later, yeah?” Your voice comes out smaller than you’d hope, but you’re just happy it wasn’t shaky. 

“No protests from me, birdie.” Regulus whispers lightly, hand ghosting your back as he submerges himself back into battle. 

You aren’t sure how much time has passed, but you are vaguely aware of how the sky seems to shed away into a forlorn grey as opposed to its former void of pitch black. When you spin on your heel, you make eye contact with a panicked Harry which has all of your mental alarms ringing. 

“Reg!” You call over your shoulder, not glancing back again as you briskly march over to your friend, cognizant of the faint sound of footsteps behind you. 

As you near the boy, you reach over to grasp his forearm, “Harry?” 

Harry gulps, “Where’s Draco?”

“With Blaise, they evacuated.” Your voice is cautious, watching as Harry’s eyes flicker from you to the battle behind you. 

“Oh…Goyle’s dead.” 

“He’s what–what the hell? Harry?” 

He shakes his head, eyes darting to look at Regulus before he averts his gaze to peer off into the distance, “No time. Come on.” 

You share a look of resigned confusion with Regulus before you’re both bounding off after the speeding boy, mind whirring on overdrive as you all duck into the steep shadows and clamber down a vacant stairway. Harry crouches down as you near a building, and you can only silently squawk once you realize it was the Shrieking Shack. 

What the hell was the boy up to this time?

Harry leans against one of the walls and peers into a crack in the mosaic glass, eyes wide as he mutely scrutinizes the scene in front of him. You and Regulus huddle together to do the same, but not before you quietly cast a concealment charm to hide your presence. 

You’re able to make out Snape’s figure, the man’s face was undoubtedly sullen as he tracks the movements of his companion with a perpetual frown. You feel Regulus tense by your side as you both recognize the other occupant in the room. 

Clenching your jaw, you shoot Harry a sharp look that he ignores, the boy becoming entranced by the conversation Snape was having with bloody fucking Voldemort. Craning your head closer to the cloudy glass, you can faintly make out what the tense exchange was about. 

The Elder Wand?

Regulus drops his hand down to interlace with yours, eyes shifting back and forth over the lattice of the window as he tries to fathom the topic. A few moments of eerie silence stretch out before you’re flinching back as something tersely slams against the window in front of you. 

Your first instinct is to reach for your wand and prepare yourself for confrontation, but upon closer inspection of the glass, you realize that it was muddled by a dark heap. Tilting your head, you hover a finger over the middle of the black shadow, eyes widening once you see the figure move ever so slightly. 

Harry’s hands are clenched tightly by his side as he peers on with unblinking eyes. 

“Nagini kill.” 

The cold voice has you swallowing a gasp, ears prickling with cold needles of dread at the realization of what was happening. A reverberant hissing slices through the air and soon you’re watching helplessly as the figure in front of you slams and struggles against the pane of glass.

Tears stab at your eyes painfully as you remain rooted to your spot, shoulders completely slack as shame wrings your veins unrelentingly. Separated by a mere two inches of glass. You wanted more than anything to be endowed with a wave of courage—to spring into action and save your Professor, but you knew you couldn’t. 

Two inches of glass, and Snape didn’t even know such little distance separated him from help. Or maybe he did—yet, you didn’t know if that was worse. If he knew you were all there, and gave no inkling of knowledge to the vindictive Dark Lord. Was he protecting you all? 

The banging ceases, eventually. 

Your jaw trembles violently as splatters of blood decorate the panes in front of you, dripping bright red, the streaks mocking you. Regulus’ face is completely blank and devoid of any color, but you could see the deep-seated agony flashing in his eyes. 

Were they friends? You couldn’t help but want to ask, knowing that Regulus would have been Snape’s junior whilst at Hogwarts.

You hear Snape grapple with his pain, gasping forcibly into the silent air. For a few moments, you wait it out, not wanting to storm into the building just in case Voldemort was basking in his most recent attack. 

Harry shoots you a quick nod, and that’s all it takes for you to fly onto your feet, body pushing through the worn door with such force that it slams into the adjacent wall. Your eyes find your Professor immediately, heart flying away into the dusty shadows somewhere as you collapse by his side. Regulus kneels down by Snape’s feet, eyes searching the older man’s disorientated gaze. 

“Professor!” Your voice comes out as a thick tremble, hands shaking with adrenaline as you fish out your wand. You begin to try and cast the strongest healing charms you know, but deep in the back of your hazy brain, you knew it would be fruitless. Harry crouches down opposite of you, posture more reserved—guarded, as he swallows harshly.

Snape glances at you briefly, eyes already dimming, before he turns to look at Harry when the boy tries to put pressure on the man’s wound. You refuse to look behind the blood-soaked collar, knowing that his neck was likely a mangled, stringy mess of flesh and muscle. 

“Take them…Take them…” Snape utters with a pained groan, small glimmers of tears rolling down his cheeks. Harry, seeming to understand the man’s urgency, whips out a small glass vial from his pocket and collects the tiny droplets. 

Snape reaches out with a weak hand towards your frantic friend, fingers ghosting over his face as he smiles weakly, “You have your mother’s eyes.” 

Harry barely bats an eye at the man’s words, only peering at him with a mournful gaze. Regulus speaks up for the first time, eyes hard as he addresses your friend without taking his eyes off of Snape, “Harry, go.” 

The boy looks over to you in question, and you give him a brief nod. 

Harry hesitates before leaning back and nodding slowly, hand gradually retracting from the bloody mess of the man’s neck. Your friend bites the inside of his cheek before capping the glass vial, “Goodbye, sir.” 

Without looking back, Harry flees the room and leaves you alone with the dying man. Your hands wander about in the air helplessly, as you grit your teeth, “Professor, you can’t die.” 

Snape’s head lolls over to your side, and he gazes at you dully, chest rising and falling more erratically now. You shake your head and furrow your eyebrows, “Do you think you can just drop down and die like this! You still need to apologize to Harry. If you die, I’ll never forgive you. I don’t know what the hell you’ve been up to this whole time–this whole war–but Dumbledore trusted you. And Dumbledore was no bloody fool. So, live.” Your voice, once hard and full of fiery conviction, drops to a low whisper, “Live so I know that I haven’t defended you for no reason.” 

The man squints at you and his fingers weakly twitch, lightly tapping your hand once. Slowly, his eyes flicker to meet Regulus’ tense figure. 

“Regulus.” The man murmurs, syllables becoming slurred as his eyes droop lower. 

Regulus nods and shifts to sidle by you, hands reaching over to pat the man’s arm, “It’s me, Severus. It’ll be okay now, just rest.” Regulus’ soft words of comfort bring a small smirk to Snape’s face, and as you go to say more, your Professor’s breathing stutters to a stop. 

“Fuck.” You mumble out with a scrunched face, eyes burning as you press the image of Snape’s still body into your memory. Regulus’ shoulders sag, and he slowly reaches over to button up the collar of Snape’s robes with glassy eyes. 

“He might have actually been a spy for the Dark Lord this whole time, birdie.” Regulus whispers, hands drawing back slowly once he finishes his task. 

You sniffle and turn away from your dead professor, “I don’t know. I don’t want to believe that. I don’t even have a sound reason for my judgment—I can just sense it.” 

Regulus nods and reaches to cradle your face in his hands, “Your senses have yet to steer you wrong, little bird. I trust your judgment, always.” 

It was inscrutable. How could you truly mourn, pity, or empathize with a man who most thought to be Hogwarts’ most depraved? It was dichotomic how you wished to understand Snape’s motivations, but simultaneously wanted to spell away any memory you had of the man. 

A part of you hoped that he was everything you thought him to be—slightly misunderstood, heavily misguided, and desperately in need of atonement. Another part of you also prayed that it was the antithesis of your feelings—that he was truly an unredeemable, malevolent mastermind that fooled Dumbledore. At least that way, when the public inevitably denounced the man, he would deserve it. 

You refuse to shed tears over Snape’s death, but you wallow in the sea of hurt and conflict that threatens to drown you as you and Regulus make your way back to the castle. It takes a few moments before you snap back into reality, immediately tensing up as you scout the area for any signs of life. 

Regulus was faring better than you at the moment, eyes set forward, one hand grasping Blaise’s wand, the other, tightly clutching yours. 

“It will end soon.” He mutters, voice level and firm with certainty. 

You don’t respond, but you feel a pebble of determination fling itself into the empty cavity of your chest. As you both slip into a dark corridor of the castle, wands raised, you hear distant explosions and yelling around the corner. 

It was time to gear up for battle again. Throwing yourself into a slight duck, you swing out from the darkness with a hex at the tip of your tongue, a vicious spell rippling through the air and crashing devastatingly into a death eater moments after. 

Mayhem befalls the ruined hallway in a matter of seconds, and you catch a glimpse of two ginger mops. Slowly knocking down death eaters, you work further towards the two Weasleys. When you get within a few yards of the familiar individuals, you feel a small smile paint itself on your lips as you realize it happened to be Fred and Percy, fighting side-by-side. 

Seems as though Percy made up with the rest of them. 

Just as you send two death eaters down the stairs and into the path of a few stray hexes, you see Fred get knocked to the floor in your peripheral. The death eater standing over your friend waves his hand up menacingly, no doubt ready to obliterate him. 

Jumping into action, you aim your wand at the man’s back, “Mors Ruinam!”

A large void swallows the unsuspecting man before unceremoniously spitting him out from the ceiling just as Regulus shoots off a particularly nasty hex. 

You hoped that the Ministry wouldn’t be checking your wands after the battle. 

Fred is still splayed out against the wall when you approach him, face drained of color as he comes to terms with his near-death experience. You extend a hand to help him up, grunting when the boy nearly drags you down in his attempt to rise up. 

“What the hell was that?” He exclaims, eyes suddenly wide and bright. 

Leave it to the Weasley twins to bounce back at light speed. 

“Just a fun little dark spell.” You flash him a small relieved smile. 

He grins and claps your shoulder, “Wicked!” 

Percy makes his way over to the three of you with a nod, dark circles jumping out from his face as he slowly gestures for you all to make your way further up the castle. 

“Have either of you seen Sirius?” You ask, eyes trailing to focus on the wisps of fire that peeked through the cracks of the ceiling. 

“Reckon he’s with Remus and Tonks.” Fred supplies, glancing back to give Regulus a confused look. You nod and cough into your fist, eyes avoiding Fred’s as you deign him with an answer of your own, “Uh, this is my…boyfriend…Regulus.” 

Fred’s face splits into a grin and he nearly faceplants on the stairs as he shoots Regulus a knowing look, “Double wicked.” You roll your eyes, knowing that the next family and friends meeting would be awkward as you’d have to explain how and why you were dating Sirius’ dead brother. 

Regulus raises his eyebrows in amusement before tangling your fingers together. The journey up to one of the collapsing towers was uneventful from then on, but you were deeply relieved to see that Sirius was still up and running. 

“Pup!” He grins broadly, turning back around for a split second to blast an apparating death eater out of the window. The man makes his way over to you, giving you a brief hug before ruffling his brother’s hair, “Where’s Harry?” 

Just running amuck with your dead professor’s tears, no biggie. 

“Off and about. He was fine, last we saw him.” You answer with a hum, eyes catching Remus’ tired ones from across the tower ledge. 

“Where is Tonks at?” You wonder aloud.

Sirius hums and twirls to look at his fatigued friend, “Shacklebolt. They’re off somewhere inside the castle.” 

Percy steps forward and huffs quietly, “We should make our way down. There’s no telling how much longer this place will stand.” 

Before anyone could make a move to clamber down the stairs, a familiar steely voice hissed through your mind, “You have fought valiantly…but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter, I now directly speak to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the forbidden forest and confront your fate…”

A few beats of silence pass and you could hear a few faint pops of apparition echo throughout the perimeter. 

“That isn't going to bode well with Harry.” You murmur, and Sirius grimly nods at your words, quickly retreating down the stairs. 

The walk down to the bustling dining hall is pervaded by a sense of dread and anxiety, all of you still on guard as if expecting a death eater to leap around the corner at any moment.  Just as you reach the heavy doors, Harry comes striding towards your little group from the other side of the corridor. 

Your head perks up at the sight of your friend, but confusion washes over you when you see the hard look in his eyes. His eyebrows are harshly furrowed as he stares down Sirius and Remus, both men looking at each other in confusion before starting to walk over to your friend. 

“Hey uh, Fred, Percy, I think your family is inside.” You cough out, not looking back as you debate on whether or not you should approach your furious friend. Luckily, both Weasley brothers feel the tension in the air and heed your silent request, Fred throwing an arm over his disgruntled brother’s shoulders as they saunter away. 

“What do you think happened, love?” You mutter, peering over to study Regulus’ expression. 

He turns to you and hums, “Snape gave Harry his memories earlier, I’m guessing he saw something he didn’t like.” 

You raise an eyebrow at the boy and bump your hip against his, “You know something.” 

“I know a lot of things, birdie.” He muses, pressing a hand to your lower back as you both watch on. 

Harry runs a hand around his lips before he peers up at his godfather and pseudo-uncle, muttering something that has both men flinching back as if he tossed a flame at them. You cross your arms as Harry sighs, seeming to retreat in his tirade, stepping around both men and marching in your direction. 

You shift to give him a questioning look, but he shakes his head and grabs both you and Regulus by the arm, pushing in between you both as he continues on his war path, “Later.” 

You don’t think you will ever receive an answer from your friend. Your heart feels like it is being ripped from your body as you stand atop of the ruined stairs along with the remaining survivors, watching as a completely still Harry is being paraded over to you by a river of death eaters. 

Neville grips the worn sorting hat tightly in his hands, mouth wobbling as he takes in the sight of the approaching forces. Your mouth stretches into a painful line as your eyes zone in on a particularly enthusiastic death eater dancing around beside Voldemort’s strutting figure. 

“Neville.” 

The boy turns to you as you begin to make your way down to him. 

“I hope you won’t mind if I send her to Merlin,” you whisper as you perch beside him atop a hill of rubble. 

Neville narrows his eyes at the woman before nodding, “Get to her first. I won’t be able to hold myself back otherwise.” 

“Deal. I’ll help you with the Lestrange brothers then.” 

Your brief exchange comes to a halt as Voldemort and his forces stop just a few yards shy of you both. 

Voldemort shoots a feral grin at the crowd before spreading his arms out widely in triumph, “Harry Potter is dead!” 

Ginny shoots out from somewhere behind you with a distressed wail, “NO! No!” 

Her father barely manages to tug her back as Voldemort hisses, pointing a spindly finger at her, “Silence! Stupid girl.” 

You want to snarl at the man, hand slowly wrapping around your wand. Regulus moves out from somewhere in the crowd behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder as he stares down the laughing death eaters. 

Voldemort’s gloating continues for a few more moments before his eyes flit towards you and Regulus. It seems that world tips on its axis in that moment as the serpentine man stills on the spot before his face shifts to one of rage, the man’s change in demeanor spurring Bellatrix to follow his gaze. 

“Traitor!” She all but screeches, immediately lifting her wand to aim at Regulus. You react just as quickly, whipping your wand up to blast the woman into the next life, but you’re both distracted by the sound of a few gasps. Reeling over to look at the source of shock, your mouth curls up as you see Harry roll on the ground, standing and firing a spell towards Voldemort’s snake. 

Bellatrix whips her head to look at Voldemort before becoming further enraged as death eaters begin to flee by the dozen, clearly petrified by your friend’s ability to dodge death. 

“Reggie, cover me!” You yell, taking advantage of Bellatrix’s distracted state. The boy complies immediately, watching your surroundings as he begins to fire spells into the disarrayed crowd of death eaters. 

“Flipendo!” 

Your spell sweeps the demented woman off of her feet, her hair flying wildly as she bounces off of a broken slab of concrete. Explosions ring from all around you as Voldemort begins to take chase behind a fleeing Harry. 

Bellatrix recovers quickly, clambering around on the ground as she tries to find her wand. You almost want to drag out this one-sided duel to a torturous degree, but petty games had no place amidst war. 

Pointing your wand at a stone, you swing your arm through the air, “Depulso!” The rugged rock soars through the air before crashing into Bellatrix’s hunched figure, reducing her frantic movements into trembling pulses as she crumbles back down onto the ground. 

You pace towards her slack body, heart skipping as your mind races. Fuck, you didn’t kill her did you?

The woman’s eyes bulge in their sockets as she helplessly stares at your looming figure. 

“Filthy…traitor.” She mutters with a strained voice, mouth twisting into a repulsive sneer. 

You huff and shoot a glance towards Regulus, relaxing when you see him occupied with a duel, “Still have the energy to talk, do you?” 

The woman doesn’t answer, and only continues to gaze at you venomously. Her wand had clattered to the ground just a few feet away, and you faintly smile before kicking the curved stick into a nearby fire. 

“You brought this upon yourself. And really, it’s a shame for you that I’m not Neville,” you grin broadly at the woman, “he is far more merciful.” 

Before the woman can respond, you pace back a few steps before aiming at her, “Anima Redimat.”

The woman gasps shrilly, watching with frightful eyes as the purple spell sinks into her body, “You-” 

“You recognize it then? The Soul Ripping spell. I’ve heard you’re quite a fan of soul magic.” You hum as she gapes at you, “You’re not the only one who’s been around Grimmauld Place’s library.” 

The woman is unable to reply as the effect of the curse kicks off, a faint purple tinge enveloping her body. Bellatrix begins to twitch on the ground, limbs sliding around in a distressful dance before she completely stills, eyes wide and unseeing as her form freezes in a contorted manner. 

You spin on your heel and slide into the mayhem around the courtyard, firing off an endless flurry of hexes as a tidal wave of adrenaline pushes the world into clarity. Regulus joins you by your side soon after, eyes never once moving to greet his cousin’s lifeless form. 

As you turn to send off another spell, you still on the spot as you come face-to-face with Narcissa Malfoy. 

“Lady Malfoy.” You greet evenly, moving to blast away a death eater behind her. 

The woman hardly flinches at your ministrations and continues to stare at you before she finally whispers, “Draco?” 

“With Contessa Zabini and his friends, I sent Blaise off to take care of him earlier.” You reply, sending a binding spell flying from your wand as you see Rabastan Lestrange sprint across the rubble around you. 

The woman nods and peers at you with relieved eyes, “I see. Perhaps we should have tea one of these days.” Without waiting for a response, she strides away and grabs her husband, apparating out of the battlefield in the blink of an eye. 

Why did everyone insist on having tea with you? Your stress levels will be off the charts by the end of the day.

“Making your way up high society, birdie?” Regulus chuckles from beside you, a glint of satisfaction flashing across his eyes as he overpowers his opponent. 

“A penchant of mine.” You reply, tone glazed with amusement. 

Regulus shakes his head as he flings his fallen challenger away from him, “Trust me, the grandeur of it fades quickly.” 

The battle ensues for a few more beats before crescendoing as two figures suddenly drop down and roll into the middle of the square, driving everyone’s attention towards the disruption. 

It seems that time halts in place as Voldemort and Harry gather their bearings, wands raised up as beams of green clash into red, an overwhelming aura of power mounting up into the air. You faintly feel the magic, Voldemort’s smothering signature grappling with Harry’s light and airy one. 

The junction of power twirls into a vibrating ball of light as you see both men shake to push forward. Voldemort suddenly collapses onto his knees as the magic fades, a tense silence dispelling the air from your lungs as you step forward with bated breath. Harry quickly peers back in shock, and his contrast from Voldemort’s stricken demeanor tells you all you need to know: the tide of the battle has changed. 

Both men swing their wands forward again, but the power clash is less evident this time as the Dark Lord futilely struggles against Harry’s potent magic. The push-and-pull between the two disintegrates once Voldemort becomes enveloped by his own spell, the green wrapping around his figure like a deflating bubble. 

The man crumbles to his knees, body gradually going rigid on the spot as his skin begins to flake off into a wisps of ash. The swirl of flying particles reduces the man to nothingness, and you feel like you can breathe again. 

Voldemort was no more.

Harry steadies himself to his feet before smiling shakily, turning on the spot to greet the confounded faces around him. Sirius and Remus come flying from somewhere in the crowd, examining Harry’s condition as the boy stares off in content. 

This war was over.

So many years of suffering and struggle finally blooming into a new era, and your friend was at the center of it all. 

Regulus inhales shakily before turning to face you, seizing your stiff body into his arms when you glance back at him with disbelieving eyes. 

For the second time that day, he joins your lips together, and you can only claw at his enthusiastic figure helplessly as he crowds you against him. Cheering echoes from all around you as more people begin to pool into the courtyard, cries of victory lifting to the skies and blowing away the gloomy clouds. 

You cup Regulus’ face as you both slowly disconnect, lips swollen and eyes wide. 

“I love you, birdie.” He whispers with conviction, hands dropping to grip your waist. 

Your laugh bubbles into the air with a watery edge, and you try to ignore the tender fulfillment that permeates across your chest, “I love you too, Reg.” 

Today you would shed relieved tears and hold the untimely losses close to your heart, but with the battle won, tomorrow would be the beginning of a new chapter for Magical Britain. You would have to begin reconstruction, reelections, and rehabilitations—mere band-aids for the decades of emptiness that would scar every survivor of the Wizarding Wars, but it would suffice.

The incalculable change was a never-ending battle—even with Voldemort gone, but at least now you have Regulus by your side. Perhaps if change became too much, you could pay Reine a visit. 

A vacation or permanent getaway could be in order now, but that seemed like a worry for tomorrow.

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Second Son (XVII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Farewells and changes are on the horizon, as are unavoidable confrontations.

Part XVI / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy this...

You don’t think you’ve ever sprinted so fast. As you clamber through the bleached doorway of the home, nearly scaring Asger out of his skin, you suddenly jolt to a stop. Luna peers from over your shoulder, clavicle pressed against your back as she tries to distinguish the cause of your rigidness. 

Slowly stepping inside, you feel your knees tremble as doubt begins to seep into your veins. Asger shoots you a concerned look before filling a glass up with water and disappearing into Regulus’ room. 

Luna carefully guides you to the table and you take a moment to lean against the beat wood. 

“Are you going to stay here?” Her airy words were free of judgment, tone light and even as if she were simply asking you what tea you preferred. You wordlessly nod, barely reacting when the girl pats your shoulders and skips after Asger. 

You run your fingers down your coat as hesitation nips at your nerves, a bubble of anxiety rippling through your chest and up into your throat. Hobbling steps echo distantly in your head, and you’re faintly aware of Anders’ approaching magic. 

“You okay, kid?” His voice was gruff, but colored with understanding. 

You hum quietly, still lost in your head. An unnerving silence roots itself in the room, and you hear Anders shift from leg to leg as he seems to grapple with himself for the right words. 

“Alright.” He huffs. 

You spin around and face the man, eyes widening at him before gluing to the open window across the room, “Alright? You don’t think I’m a coward?” 

Anders rolls his eyes and limps towards you, placing a rugged hand on your shoulder, “Hell you thinking that for?” He moves to sit down next to you, “You’re a lot of things kid, a coward ain’t one of ‘em. Besides, I would do the same.” 

Tilting your head, you swallow harshly as a prickly sensation wraps around your neck, “What do you mean?” 

“If my Anne were to walk through that door right now, I don’t even know what’d I do,” He shakes his head with a wry smile, “Isn’t it funny that you can wish for something so desperately, but the prospect of it actually happening…” 

“It’s unbelievable.” You add, watching as the man nods solemnly. You almost feel selfish for allowing your emotions to taunt you, knowing that you were being handed an ineffable opportunity that the man would kill for. 

Before you can say much else, Asger cracks open the door with a resounding creak, slowly padding out with an unreadable expression, “He’s asking for you.” 

Your eyes widen considerably at his words, and you turn to look at Anders for guidance. The older man simply jerks his head towards the door, eyes closing as an imperceptible smile tugs at his lips. He looked like he was making peace with something–but what?  

Slowly making your way towards the commodious room, you feel your skin buzz and numb, mouth drying up as you gradually sink into a pool of uncertainty. As you cross the threshold, eyes set on the floor, you feel Luna slink around you with a little pat to your back, leaving you both alone.

As the door closes behind you, you slowly raise your gaze up. 

“Hello, birdie.” Regulus’ smile is strained, as if he were pained, but his eyes are practically glowing under the light. He’s sitting up on the makeshift bed, arms resting in his lap as he slowly fiddles with the frays of the blanket. 

A sob tears through your throat, muddling your words into an incomprehensible blubber as you practically fly towards the boy, throwing yourself into his chest. Your tears were no doubt pooling through the thin fabric of his shirt, but the onslaught of searing emotion only continues to flare as you feel him wrap his arms around you.

His arms. It felt so foreign, but so safe. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to him not being in a rectangular frame.

“It’s okay now, I’m here.” He whispers, hand running down your back as he soothes you. 

You shift in his arms and lift your head up, broad tear tracks clinging to your cheeks, “Reggie…you remember me?” If you weren’t so doped up on a tidal wave of emotions, you would have cringed at how thick your voice came out. 

The boy smiles at you softly before bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, “Wouldn’t be able to forget you even if I tried, love.” 

A burst of affection threatens to demolish all of your sense of propriety as you gaze up at the boy, eyes furiously darting around his face to memorialize the tender emotion that paints his eyes. 

You rest your head on his shoulder and tiredly huff, feeling him shiver under you as the cool air hits his neck. It’s only after the passing of a few beats of silence when you realize that you’re practically sprawled across his lap. 

Gaping momentarily at the mortification that shatters your euphoria, you slowly shuffle off of him, “Sorry, Reg.” 

The boy tilts his head in confusion before tightening his hold, gently guiding your head back onto his shoulder, “Nothing to apologize for, birdie.” 

You take a few moments to compose yourself, gently sniffling as your tears begin to cease in intensity, only occasional droplets cascading down. Nuzzling into Regulus’ shoulder unabashedly, your voice comes out a tad muffled, “So do you remember everything then?” 

The boy drops his cheek down atop your head, fingers drawing patterns on your hand as he hums, “It’s all a bit foggy, but I remember the vital things. Of course, the memories from when I was a portrait are more coherent than my childhood memories, but I’m mainly trying to remember how to articulate having a physical body.” 

“You’re not doing too bad.” You tease, a light smile playing on your lips. 

Regulus’ chest vibrates vaguely as he emits a small chuckle, “Oh?” The boy peers down at you before dropping his lips down to the top of your head. Your heart skips at the blatant show of affection, and you grow impossibly fonder of the boy. 

“Thank you for coming back to me.” You whisper softly. 

He slowly drops back into the capacious bed, drawing you down with him as he tucks you against his side, “Thank you for finding me…again.” 

You laugh airily and drop your hand on top of his, suppressing your fluster as he effortlessly weaves your fingers together. The both of you lay together in a comfortable silence, a sudden exhaustion weighing on your chest as you listened to the rhythmic beating of Regulus’ heart. 

You’re unsure of how much time has passed the next time you’re fully cognizant, eyes blinking rapidly to shake away the heaviness of your eyelids. It seems the lethargic state you were reduced to after your emotional reunion led you to a dreamless slumber. In your sleep, you practically glued yourself to Regulus, coming to a realization that the boy had somehow been shoved into the crook of your neck, now also in a peaceful drowse. 

Brushing his curls away from your cheek, you run your fingers along his spine lightly, nails dancing along the clothed plane of his back. At your movements, the boy stirs groggily, a throaty grumble interrupting the atmospheric silence of the room.

You tighten your hold on him and grin when he blearily opens his eyes, head shifting to chase after the warmth of your skin. 

“Morning, baby.” He whispers, nose nudging up against your jaw. His voice is scratchy and still marred by inklings of sleepiness, and you’re not entirely sure if he noticed the little pet name. 

You bite your lip to tame the blinding grin screaming to escape on your face, bringing your fingers to run against his scalp, “Actually, I think it’s nighttime.” 

Regulus huffs quietly against your neck, “Good, so let’s go back to sleep.” 

You hum and open your mouth to agree, but the rumbling of your stomach cuts through the air. Coughing lightly, you ignore the blazing embarrassment that pins itself in your chest, choosing to instead continue your movements.

Regulus nuzzles against you again before slowly detaching from you, raising himself on his elbows as he hovers over you. You could see the sleepiness fade away from his gaze, and you bring a hand up to tuck a curl behind his ear. 

“Let’s get you some food, birdie.” He mumbles, dropping down to peck your forehead. 

The boy sluggishly stretches as he practically rolls off the bed, arms raised above his head as he yawns. You smile and begin to flee the cozy confines of the blanket, readily moving away from the warmth to stick by Regulus. 

“Do you want some tea?” You ask, keeping a careful watch to make sure he wouldn’t promptly collapse into a weak heap of flesh and bones. Luckily, it seemed that the boy was gradually gaining strength. 

Slowly pulling the door open, you peer out into the bleak twilight illuminating the house and sigh when you see that the others aren’t around. As you make your way to the cupboards, hands deftly flying about to quickly make some tea for the both of you, you feel Regulus wrap his arms around you. 

“Look at us being bloody domestic.” He murmurs, knocking his head gently against yours. 

You feel the blood rushing through your ears as you direct all your energy towards making sure you don’t accidentally break anything, too overwhelmed by the affection. 

You clear your throat as you put the kettle on the stove, leaning back against the boy, “Not that I hate it, actually, quite the contrary, but I didn’t peg you as an affectionate person.” 

Regulus draws patterns on your arms as he muses, “Hm, ‘m usually not. Just for you, I suppose.” 

You were sure you were about to go into cardiac arrest, one hand flying up to make sure your heart wasn’t attempting to fly out of your chest. You turn around to face the boy, eyes wide with uncertainty, “Just me?” 

The boy looks back at you with an assured gaze, smiling dopily at you, “Yes, just you, birdie.” You mirror his smile and nod slowly, still unsure of what to say. 

Before either of you can escalate the situation further, the loud whistling of the kettle rings through the air, its shrill screeching causing you to flinch back. You muffle a laugh behind your hand and watch as Regulus blinks in disorientation for a moment, shooting a look of mock irritation at the steel instrument. 

“No, please continue,” a brassy voice rings out from behind you both. You peer around Regulus to see Asger giving you a stare laden with impassiveness. Smiling impishly at the unimpressed man, you simply avert your gaze to the kettle next to you before glancing back at him, “Tea?” 

As the breezy coat of nightfall loomed in the skies, you all decided to head out for a small trek to a pier nearby. Luna skips ahead of you and Regulus, leading your small group, as she scurries around to look for unique stones. Anders and Asger were trailing the three of you, both men walking in a comfortable silence. 

A crisp wave of wind soars through the air, dotting your nose with coolness. Regulus has his arm looped with yours, eyes drinking up the sight of the environment around you, shining in disbelief and awe. 

A flicker of sadness lingers in your heart as you ponder about how muddled everything must have seemed to him when he was a portrait, time gelling together into indistinguishability. You weren’t sure which fate was worse: becoming an inferi or being stuck as a portrait. 

The echoing of your footsteps on the wooden dock sound through the night with a woody hollowness, eyes trailing up the pier and towards the inky pool of water around you all. You feel Regulus tense beside you, and you stop in your tracks to study him. 

His eyes are glassy and unfocused as he stares into the darkness of the water, body rigid as an internal turmoil seems to paralyze him. You want to smack yourself over the head with a bludger — Regulus was uncomfortable with the murky surroundings because it was reminiscent of his demise. 

Tugging at his arm, you slowly guide him away from the dock, shaking your head when Anders glances at your retreating forms. Regulus slowly floats back down to you, eyes no longer as dim. 

“I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You mutter, hands reaching over to comfort him. The boy looks devastatingly vulnerable in his state, an anxious frown creeping up on his face. He had always been so strong for you, it was easy to forget that he wasn’t insusceptible.

He shakes his head and subconsciously leans towards you, arms slowly lifting up to wrap around your frame, “No, I didn’t even realize myself.” His voice is faint, seeming to be tucked away behind his brief panic. 

“Do you think you’re okay to travel, Reg?” You whisper, hands crawling up his shoulders to brush against his neck. The boy looks at you in confusion, but nods firmly. 

Sighing, your hands rest on either side of his face, thumbs swiping against his cheeks, “When I went back to the cave with Anders to retrieve you, we accidentally encountered Voldemort.” 

Regulus’ words nearly jumble together at the news and his mouth drops open, “You bumped into the Dark Lord?”

Grimacing at the wording, you shake your head, “Only briefly. He could only see me, but I’m apprehensive to stay here long. I don’t want to endanger the Fiskes.” 

“Where will we go?” He mumbles with furrowed eyebrows. 

You bite the inside of your cheek and divert your attention to the stars causing Regulus’ eyes to flicker around your face, “Birdie, what does that look mean?” 

Hesitating for a few moments, you consider all of your options before speaking. 

“Reg, maybe you’d be safer here,” you reluctantly voice, “I mean, where I’m thinking…it’s too hampered by uncertainties.” You frown, eyes meeting his gaze to try and implore him to see your reasoning. It was not an outlandish assumption in your eyes, as bringing him with you would mean answering inexorable questions and integrating him back into society amidst a full blown war. 

Regulus recoils as if you’ve slapped him, eyes wide with shock that rapidly bleeds into outrage, “You don’t actually think I’m letting you run off alone, right?” His voice is taut, bordering coldness, and you shakily exhale as your mind races. 

“You’re still recovering, Reg. Your magical core is still-” You begin to sputter, but Regulus shakes his head, and it has your words flushing away in a sweep of uncertainty. 

He shifts impossibly closer to you, eyes softening as he rubs your back, “I know that you’re concerned, birdie, but I want to be with you. I’m sorry that I got snippy with you right now, but this isn’t negotiable.” He frowns and leans over to nudge his nose against yours, “I’ll follow you to the ends of the world—wherever your heart desires, but I’m not leaving you to your lonesome when the Dark Lord is on your tail.” 

“If you come with me, it won’t be easy.” You breathe out. 

He smiles and tilts his head to the side, “All the more reason to follow you, then.” 

You assess him for a few moments before nodding, rolling your eyes playfully at the satisfied glint in his eyes, “Stubborn one, aren’t you?” 

Regulus hugs you to his body and muses, “Well, someone needs to keep your self-preservation in check.” 

As the stars slip away from the canvas of the sky to give room to the rising sun, you all gather inside the house, surrounding the dining table. You had to practically mandhandle Regulus into your usual seat as there weren’t enough chairs, but the boy only gave in once you compromised to share the seat with him. 

Luna periodically flashes the both of you grins, eyes shooting off through you as she tangles with visions of the future. Anders leans back in his chair to stare at Regulus, seeming to appraise his worthiness. Asger simply sips his tea and awaits for the conversation to ensue, humored eyes peering at you all over the rim of his cup. 

“Anders, I think that we should leave now,” you pause to clear your throat, “I don’t want to intrude and I hate the thought that I’m endangering you both, now that Voldemort is on my trail.” You word-vomit, hands fidgeting anxiously in your lap. 

Subtlety was not your forte. 

Regulus brings a steady hand to rest on your jittery ones as Anders grunts, “I understand, kid. You do know that we don’t mind though, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you when you don’t respond, “But I get it.” 

You breathe out in relief and straighten up in your seat, “Thank you, Anders, truly. This whole experience has been life changing to say the least, and I think I’m going to miss you both, honestly.” 

Both men meet your eyes steadily, and Asger breaks out into a small grin before placing his cup down, “I think we’ll miss you guys more, right Dad?” He turns to the older man, who merely grunts and looks away, but you would bet galleons that you saw a smile flash across his face. 

Anders slowly pushes himself up and walks off into his room, emerging moments later with a satisfied expression, “Here, kid.” You slowly rise up in confusion as Anders extends a stack of clipped papers towards you. 

“What?” 

The older man shakes his head and drops back down into his seat, “You didn’t think I’d actually publish someone else’s research, did you?” 

You hug the papers to your chest and gape at the man, “But, a lot of this is your research now. Besides, why would you…” You trail off, still boggled by a storm of perplexion. 

Anders waves you off and rubs his knee, “It's our research, kid. Anyway, I never intended to write it for myself in the first place, I’m much too old to get caught up in the academic world again.” He looks up at you with a proud sheen in his eyes, “Besides, you did most of the rune work and connection of theories. You better make something of yourself, yeah?” 

You are rendered speechless at the blatant display of care from him, and you find yourself wrapping the older man up in a hug before you can stop yourself. The man pats your back as you whisper hushed words of gratitude. 

You were practically holding your future in your hands. 

As the sun breaks over the veil of morning twilight, dispersing the ground of its mist and biting chill, you all stand at the edge of the village. It is bitterly nostalgic for you, mind flashing back to all those months ago when you stumbled upon Asger during the peak of night. 

Regulus stands back, now sporting one of Asger’s oversized corduroy jackets (a deep green, in slytherin fashion, and he looked offensively good in it). He watches as you and Luna say your final farewells to the father and son duo. Luna and Asger chat idly, with the older man patting the girl’s head fondly, smiling when she passes over a large blue stone to him. 

Turning away from the pair, you smile sadly at Anders, the older man already facing you with a calm expression, “Stay safe, kid. Tom won’t know what hit him.” 

You flash an assenting smile at him before stepping forward to give him one last hug. Closing your eyes, you are rendered inarticulate with poignance, “I’m gonna miss you, old man.” 

He pulls back and pats your shoulder reassuringly, “We’ll be alright, I think it’s time little old me did some soul searching.” 

Frowning in confusion, you lean back to ask, “How do you mean?” 

“Reine has treated us well all these years, but Asger and I were thinking of a change in scenery.” The man avows calmly. 

You step back and clutch the research papers tightly in your hands, “We’ll see each other again, right?” 

Asger swoops in and swings an arm over his father’s shoulders just as Luna bounces over to your side, hand clasping yours. The younger man grins at you brightly and inclines his head, “Who knows? We’ll be okay though,” he raises his head and his eyes grow serious, “but we want to thank you. You’ve given us a lot to think about, and I think it's time we celebrated my mother’s life instead of stewing in static.” 

You nod, mouth betraying just how sentimental you felt as it tugged into a frown, “Go well, both of you.” 

Anders cracks a small smile and they both wave you off. 

“Give him hell, kiddo.” 

“Take care of yourselves.” 

Wordlessly, you spin on your heel and walk towards Regulus with Luna in tow, the boy reaching towards you as you approach. In a blur, you’re interlacing your fingers with his and apparating away, the warping taking your mind away from any lingering sadness. 

As you touch down on smooth pavement, you feel Regulus shift closer to you, swaying ever so slightly on his feet. After steadying the boy, you turn to take in the sight in front of you — Zabini Manor. White pergolas embellished with thick grape vines curtaining the structure were erected serenely on the clipped lawn. Further back, winding balustrades, highlighted by Italian terracotta pots housing enormous clusters of begonias seemed to welcome you. 

The regal property towered over your figures, so much so that you all almost ignored the faint popping sound that echoed from next to you in favor of drinking up the sight. 

“Fiore be taking the Contessa’s guests to the parlor room.” 

You swivel around and face the house elf, nodding mutely as you’re all led inside. Regulus’ decorum is impeccable, years of etiquette lessons and pure blood preaching seeming to still be instilled in every joint of his body. Luna digs inside of her satchel all the way there and you hear vague clacking and shuffling from the bag. 

As the heavy wooden doors swing shut behind you, you feel your neck prickle with goosebumps as you release your magic, seeking out any familiar signatures. Your movements border robotic as you beeline to sit on one of the ottomans in the parlor, spacing out as you peer through the window and see rows of hydrangea bushes.  

It was time to face reality.

Regulus slowly traces shapes on the back of your hand as he glances around, no doubt comparing the furnishing to the dismal designs lining Grimmauld Place. 

“The brevity of peace is palpable these days, dear.” The euphonious voice breaches the threshold of the room before anything else, and you’re quick to school your face as the Contessa struts into the room, tobacco pipe clasped in one hand. 

You stand up and smile diminutively at the woman, “Contessa Zabini. Apologies for the intrusion.”

She sends you a sharp grin before taking her place on an ornate armchair, “No need for the pleasantries, my dear. I must say that you are rather better company than those friends of yours.” She takes a quick hit of her pipe, crossing one leg over the other. 

Masking your shock, you smile genuinely and shake your head, “I’m touched, Contessa. Which reminds me, I have failed to properly correspond with Blaise these past few months. I don’t suppose he’s tried to cajole those friends of mine for information?” 

The woman exhales a cloud of smoke and hums, “Ah yes, Blaise was quite disappointed from what I hear, but of course we both understood your precarious position.” 

“I’ll have to write to him soon, then. I assume that everything is well here?” You begin to fiddle with the corner of the papers in your lap, back aching minutely from your prim posture. 

The Contessa brings a hand to rest on her raised knee, eyes momentarily flickering towards Regulus as she smiles, “Quiet and uneventful, my dear. Now,” she tilts her head to gauge the sight in front of her, “I see that you’ve found a friend.” 

You could see the cogs whirring behind her eyes, mouth set into a thin line as something akin to familiarity seeps through the cracks of her expression. Nodding, you peer at the boy from the corner of your eye to observe his expression before replying, “Yes, he’s actually what I was referring to when I mentioned my personal interests.” 

The woman, to her credit, masks her brimming curiosity well, eyebrows raising as she mutely encourages you to continue. Regulus clears his throat quietly, “It’s a pleasure to make your company, Contessa Zabini.” 

The Contessa smiles pointedly at the boy and hums, “Well mannered…how interesting. The pleasure is all mine.” She places her pipe down on the round table next to her, eyes never straying from Regulus’ expressionless face, “Forgive me, but you look quite familiar, have we met before?” 

Regulus raises his eyebrows in show, “I do not believe so, I’ve been in recuperation for a number of years now.”

She doesn’t seem entirely convinced but turns back to you with a delighted smirk as she continues to address the boy next to you, “I see. I do hope to get your name then as it intrigues me that you have the ability to convert someone—who the public thought to be a staunch Dumbledore supporter, into a neutral ally.” 

Before either of you can respond, the doors practically burst off their hinges as they swing open. The thundering sound has you wincing from your spot, eyes immediately flying towards the source of the intrusion. Your mouth peels open at the sight of your friends and a very enthusiastic Sirius. 

Harry immediately beams as he catches sight of you, but his eyes grow as wide as saucers when he takes notice of the boy next to you. Hermione looks exhausted by the commotion around her, no doubt having mentally aged a significant amount in the time of her babysitting duties while you were away. Ron blinks owlishly at you, and waves hesitantly, posture shifty as he averts his gaze to assess the undisguised glower on the Contessa’s face. 

Luna jumps up from her seat and scurries over to greet the trio, her smile immediately drawing Harry’s attention away from you both. 

Sirius chuckles loudly as he stalks towards you, arms splayed wide open as he goes to hug you, “Pup, you’re finally here!” You quickly hug the older man back, bewildered by his ability to immediately get tunnel vision. 

As he draws back from you, your taciturn demeanor only heightens as you watch shock bloom across his face. The man springs back from you in a flash, eyes bulging out as he stammers for words at the sight of Regulus. The boy next to you gazes at his brother with regretful eyes, shoulders now sagging under the weight of the older man’s presence. 

The fraught silence is interrupted by a disbelieving whisper from Sirius, “Regulus?”  

“It’s good to see you, Siri.” 

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Second Son (XVI) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The soul-tracking ritual ensues, and Anders has a precarious idea.

Part XV / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter :). Sincerely hoping this chapter doesn't glitch again.

The excitement of performing the soul-tracking ritual wore off rather quickly when you realized that you had to draw out all of the runes since Anders was unable to crouch down. It was an extensive process and each character had to be extremely precise, causing your fingers to cramp up rather quickly. 

Your feet were feeling fuzzy as the circulation in your legs started to suffer from your position, your knees cracking noisily with every shuffle you took to continue mapping out the ritual circle. 

“I can’t feel my legs anymore.” You whined, upper body flopping down as you braced yourself with your palms. 

Anders grunts from in front of you, “You’re not even halfway there yet, and careful you almost smudged the Dagaz.” His drawl has you huffing, head instinctually snapping to the side to make sure you didn’t actually smear anything. 

“Easy for you to say, you’re sitting on a bloody stool while I’m hunched over, practically shining your boots!” Your exasperation was painted across your face, words spewing out in a mixture of annoyance and jest. 

The man rolls his eyes and rubs a hand over his knee, the joint no doubt aching, “Careful loyal vassal of mine, I am graciously offering you my help after all,” his tone of amusement melts away and he suddenly grows serious, “but it is imperative that we do this quickly.” 

You huff and adjust your position, swinging your head up to look at the man in curiosity, “Why’s that?” 

Anders’ face is darkened with a grim frown, and he peers down at the papers on his laps, “You said that those buddies of yours were going to kill Tom, right?” 

“Yes…” Your uncertain tone has you fidgeting with your wand habitually, eyes flickering between the window of the room and the man in front of you. 

“Well he’s puppeting the inferis with his magic, so they’ll undoubtedly be reduced to husks once he’s gone. So we need to hurry,” Anders elucidates, mouth set into a firm line as he delved deeper into his thoughts. 

Putting a hand up, you blink owlishly at the man, “This is too much information. So, not only are inferis still housing their original souls – but you’re saying that it's Voldemort’s magic that’s tying these souls down to the land of the living?” 

You didn’t know whether you wanted to curse the detestable man into oblivion or begrudgingly allow yourself to be grateful that his existence meant Regulus’ soul was still with you. 

Well, he was chaining down hundreds of souls for his own selfish desires – so you were leaning towards wanting to stick your hand through his head. 

“Only the inferis of his own creation, but yes, in theory.” The man looks mildly impressed at your quick thinking. 

“Would it be a bad idea to owl Harry and ask him to raincheck on his plans to eviscerate the Dark Lord?” You draw a hand to rub at your forehead, a newfound migraine blooming from the back of your neck and straining across your occiput. 

Anders gives you an unimpressed eyebrow raise before waving his hand towards the abandoned quarter-circle behind you, “A terrible idea. Now, let’s continue.” 

You finish drawing the ritual circle an hour after sunset. 

Your hand was shaking uncontrollably, jerking with every cramp that tugged at your muscles. You had begun sweating at one point, causing Anders to limp over and slide both of the windows open. The cool air bristled through the room and circled around all the loose papers, the sounds of rustling and quiet cruising from the older man flowing around the atmosphere. 

As you step back to survey your hard work, you can’t help the smile that plays at your lips: the intricacies of the circle was alluring, practically glowing under the yellow light fixtures above you. The wind began to whistle, and Anders took that as a cue to interrupt your little reprieve, “Looks decent enough.” 

“Decent? Have you gone senile since the last time we chatted? This bloody thing is the embodiment of perfection!” You cry out in incredulity, pondering all the ways you could attach the nifty piece of work to your academic portfolio.

Anders rolls his eyes and organizes his papers, “Yes, yes, you’re practically a Runes Master. Take a picture of it, why don’t ya?” 

Playfully narrowing your eyes at his back, you go to retort, but a knock at the door has you pausing just as you open your mouth. Sharing a look with Anders, you carefully move to investigate, only cracking the door open marginally in order to hide your work. 

It wouldn’t do you much good to have the neighbors thinking you were summoning something. 

“Luna?” Your squawk of surprise only causes the girl to smile, eyes darting over your head as her gaze seems to fade in and out of fixation. 

Bouncing on her heels, she reaches into her pocket, “So, you’re done?” 

“Yeah, I finished drawing up the circle. I think the old man wants to perform the actual ritual tonight though, so I won’t see you until tomorrow.” You exhale tiredly and murmur to yourself, “If I wake up, that is.” 

Luna nods quickly and pulls out a few items from her coat, “I see. Well, I’ve brought some things. I was told that you were in need of this as well by the Humdingers” In her outstretched hands, you see a couple of wrapped sandwiches and a small camera. 

“What?” You gape and slowly reach forwards, “Where did you get a camera from, little moon?” 

The girl smiles brightly and fiddles with her coat buttons, “I asked Asger.” You nod in appreciation and smile at the girl, waving with your full hands as she gracefully skips away towards the house. 

You retreat back into the room and brandish the camera at the expectant man with a victorious smirk, “I have great friends.” 

Anders grunts and reaches for one of the sandwiches, “That’s my camera, kid.” 

You examine the device with your oh so supple fingers, and ignore the urge to stick your tongue out at him, your sensibility winning out for once. As you both eat in silence, your eyes run over the respectable pile of papers in front of Anders, realizing that the man was absolutely serious about publishing your findings. 

“What have you got so far?” You nod towards his papers. 

His eyes quickly flicker beside him, “Magical essences and the imbuing work your boy did, and now I’m drafting up some pages about inferis and their souls.” 

You hum quietly and dust off your hands as you finish the last scraps of your food, feeling more vigilant as your aching stomach settles. The camera was smaller than the jarring flash bulb that Rita Skeeter always had around, and if anything, seemed way more practical. 

It was a bit blocky and had a round lens in the center with a small depression that you could only assume was for the flash. The bottom of the camera had a small rectangular slit — an output. 

“Polaroid 600. Film is as expensive as it gets, so don’t you go and waste it.” Anders’ quietly mumbles as he gets up from his spot, hands reaching for the camera. As he fiddles around with it for a few moments, the top suddenly seems to prop up and he hands it back to you with a satisfied nod, “Think you know how to operate a camera?” 

“I’m not a dunce, thank you very much.” Your riposte causes him to roll his eyes as he gestures for you to move towards the circle. Despite your initial indignance, it took you a few moments of consideration and blind thumbing until you were confident enough to snap the photo. As you (luckily) manage to get a good shot, you conceal your surprise as the photo immediately begins to peek out of the bottom slit, slowly being spat out. 

How convenient.

You nimbly pull the photo out once it seems to stop sputtering, and hand the camera over to Anders before peering at the developing square film. Slowly, you watch as the outlines of the ritual circle bloom into visibility. 

You take a couple more moments to run your eyes over the photo before placing it in Anders’ awaiting palm. The man hobbles over to his table and clips the photo to one of the pages, placing the camera on the stack of papers afterwards. 

“Okay, now put your boy’s photo in the center—next to the Uruz symbol.” 

You wordlessly comply with Anders’ words, and slowly tiptoe out of the circle, eyes never straying from Regulus’ face. The man moves to the opposite side of the circle, and pats at the air, gesturing for you to sit down. 

Watching from your position on the floor, Anders begins to chant evenly, eyes closed as you feel him begin to gather his magic to pool across the symbols. The faint steely nature of his magical signature washes over you, and you clasp your hands together in your lap as you feel an immense pressure begin to weigh on the room. Regulus’ photo gives a faint jolt, then another, and then another, until the whole paper begins to vibrate. 

You watch in awe as the photo slowly rises into the air, the Uruz symbol glowing brightly with a faint red hue. In the blink of an eye, the photo jerks sideways and falls onto the Hic symbol to your left just as Anders’ chanting ceases. 

“Hic? Here? What does it mean, here?” Your questions seem to spill out uncontrollably, and you see the older man give the photo a look of consideration. 

“I’m not quite sure. Usually, souls still in the realm of the living are classified as Vivus,” Anders mutters, hand coming up to rub at his chin, “Kid, is that ring of yours imbued with his magic?” 

You nod and reach for your ring, fingers running over the two snakes that you’ve grown accustomed to. Anders sighs before slapping his hand over his entire face, dragging it down as he seems to wage an internal war with himself. 

“You said your boy was in a cave?” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, and nod slowly, “Yes…and so are hundreds of other inferis, why?” 

The man meets you gaze with a determined look as you slowly stand up, hands fiddling with your ring. 

“Well, let’s go fetch your boy.” 

The journey back to the cave was bittersweet, and you almost lost your footing as you apparated to the very spot you had before, except this time with a rather grumpy presence by your side. Water batted against the rock you were rooted to, droplets of water flying into your face periodically. You could barely make out the view in front of you as the moon faintly illuminated the waves.

As you apparate with Anders to the shore, you feel a lump grow in your throat. Your heart was beating violently against your chest, and a cold sweat started to break through the surface of your skin. 

The muted crunching of sand and rocks under your shoes grounded you to reality as the void of the cave engulfed you, washing away the sea of stars that had been beaming at you from above.

“Lumos.” 

As you extended your wand in front of you, you had half the mind to be cautious of potential bloodthirsty death eaters or one psychotic dark lord, realizing that perhaps the certifiable man would be on the upkeep for his horcruxes. 

Soon, you both reached the rounded end of the cave, and Anders shoots you an unimpressed look. Holding a hand up at him, you extinguish your lumos and bring your wand to your palm, “Secare.”

Dragging the tip of your wand against your palm, the spell slowly cuts your skin enough to draw blood. Satisfied with your work, you swipe your bloodied cut against the damp rocks behind you. 

“Lumos.” 

The wall of charcoal stone crumbles away like you remembered, and you’re immediately met with a wave of faint heat. 

Remnants of your fire storm from last time?

“Bloody hell,” Anders croaks from behind you, eyes glimmering at the sight of the sumptuous crystal clusters. The milky geodes sent a shiver down your spine as you started to draw a resemblance between their geometric planes and the cloudy skin of the inferis. 

Making your way through the dark ventricle of minerals, you slowly emerge into the belly of the cave, the familiar void of water just meters away from you. 

“We’re here. They’re in there,” your voice falls into a whisper, “he’s in there.”

Anders steps out from behind you and pulls out his own wand, the worn ashen wood barely visible in the light of your lumos. Tilting his head towards you, he looks at you with a solemn gaze before asking, “His full name?” 

“Regulus Arcturus Black.” 

Nodding, the man turns towards the lake and moves his wand counterclockwise, “Prodire Regulus Arcturus Black.” 

Nothing happens for a few seconds, until abruptly — something breaks through the surface of the water and flies towards your awaiting figures, stilling to a stop in front of Anders as if colliding with an invisible wall. Your hand swings to cover your mouth as your eyes trail along the spindly creature: its body was slack in the air, arms stiff like milky needles, chest unnaturally thin with a protruding rib cage that threatened to burst through bruised skin, and a rawboned face veiled by the darkness. 

This thing was Regulus?

You felt your world begin to tip and spin, eyes burning then blurring rapidly. Shivers wracked through your chest as sobs seemed to well in your throat. Closing your eyes, you try to steady your breathing, but the flashing image of Regulus’ face and then the sight of the horrid creature infiltrate your head. 

It feels as though a millennia of your discombobulation passes by before you feel a firm grip on your shoulder, the gesture helping to keep you upright on your feet. 

“Come on, kid,” Anders’ face comes into view and you see his eyes soften uncharacteristically, his mouth set into a hard frown. Your eyes stray to the side and you see that the man had summoned a cloth to cover the inferi during your small episode, the lumpy bundle now floating in the air nearby. 

Nodding quickly, you swallow harshly before spinning around, “Right. Sorry.” Your whisper is met with a comforting silence, and you appreciated more than ever, Anders’ ability to know when words weren’t needed. 

As you both stiffly trek back through the cave, you begin to feel a weight of foreboding blanket your body. Picking up the pace, you step out of the mouth of the cave with sweaty hands, eyes darting around wildly. 

“Hurry,” your choked whisper confuses the older man, but he abides nonetheless. As you grab his forearm and hesitantly grab a part of the covered inferi, you hear a faint warping echo from off to the side. 

Gasping quietly into the chilly air, you barely catch a glimpse of the familiar figure before you’re tugged away by the distortion of apparition. You can barely breathe as your heart seems to stutter uncontrollably. 

You land back inside the research room with Anders and Regulus’ inferi, not even noticing how cramped the space now was as you tried to quell your panic. 

“Kid? What’s wrong?” Anders floats the clothed figure down into the center of the circle as you buckle to the ground, blood flushing cold. 

“Voldemort. He was there.” You gasp out. 

The man jolts to a paralyzed freeze as his eyes widen comically, his heart no doubt beginning to race as fast as yours. You shake your head jerkily and wave your hand aimlessly, “He didn’t see you. Or well, you were covered by the cloth, but he definitely noticed me.” 

The dryness of your mouth was beginning to prickle and itch, your skin suddenly feeling too tight on your body. You were sure he recognized you, after all, he was always in Harry’s head. 

“Then we just have to hurry a bit.” Anders' steady words have you snapping your attention over to him, confused as to why he was so calm now. Seeing your distraught gaze, he sighs, “He won’t come for you for now, I’m sure he is focused on your other friends. Besides, even if he were, he has no idea where to even look.” 

Nodding with an unconvinced frown, you feel your fear melt away into a stony resolve, eyes flickering over to look at the figure laying in the circle. 

“Thank you, Anders.” Your dry whisper has him cracking a small smile. 

“Thank me when your boy is back up and running.” 

You were robotically drawing more rune characters, eyes unfocused as you were too entranced by your thoughts. You weren’t sure what the older man was planning as he hadn’t explained to you what this additional ritual entailed, but you were determined to make it work. 

As you complete the last etching, head rising up to look at the concentrated man, he finally breaks the tense atmosphere, “I don’t know if it’ll work, but the combination of his soul and your ring might just do the trick.”

Tilting your head to the side, you try not to sound too hopeful, “So, he’ll be completely recovered if it works?” 

“Not completely, he’ll need time to rejuvenate his magical core. This would be unprecedented, kid. I don’t have all the answers, and I can’t promise that it will work, but I am going to do my best.” His eyes are unwavering, back straightened with coiled tension. 

You nod hastily, knowing that you were both pretty much running on wishes. As Anders double checks your rune work, you slowly slip your ring off your finger, cringing as the cold air brushes against your naked finger. 

You hadn’t ever taken it off before. 

Placing the cool band next to the covered figure, you step out of the circle and clench your hands. Anders nods in confirmation before stepping out as well, slowly hobbling over to stand on the opposite side of the circle. 

“Let your magic funnel out into the circle as well. You won’t need to chant.” Anders' brief words have you nodding, and you slowly shuffle from leg to leg, fatigue starting to seep into your veins. 

The chanting begins soon after, and you allow the metaphorical valves of your magical core to open, feeling the coolness of your magic sweeping to tangle with Anders’ metallic magic. Both of your magical signatures dance around the circle and collect in the center, flexing together above the figure. The entire rune circle seems to radiate in shades of reds and stormy greys before blazing into an endless black.  

Suddenly, you feel magic seep from the clothed figure — a deep, harrowing magic that roused with a small rumble before erupting into a suffocating cloud that could only be described as numbing. 

It was nothing like Regulus’ magic, which meant that this corrupted energy belonged to Voldemort. You grit your teeth as you flush out more of your magic to try and drive away Voldemort’s lingering signature, the psychopath’s magic seeming to screech violently at your attempt. 

The prolonged battle with the stifling magic finally ends as the dark cloud is ripped away from you, pulled in all directions towards the additional runes you drew, the characters radiating in almost a blinding way before ripping apart the corrupted magic. 

The once dark circle stews into a cool grey before disintegrating into a pale green, the light beating melodically. You watch in wonderment as the magic in the ring bubbles into your magic, intertwining with yours before slowly clutching at Anders’ as well. Your potent whirl of combined magic slowly descends towards the clothed figure, causing it to jerk wildly. 

The cloth shuffles with the movements and you see it begin to pull upwards as if the inferi was arching towards your magic. Suddenly, the strings of magic slam into the clothed figure, sending shockwaves throughout the room. 

As you hear a few books tumble to the ground at the energy, the figure twitches once more before falling still again. Anders continues to chant for a few more moments as the circle flares into a blinding white light before it, too, simmered into nothingness. 

You nearly topple over in exhaustion as the energy draws back into your body, the synergies of magic in the room evaporating almost instantaneously. Anders wipes his forehead with his sleeve, and shakily stumbles over to his table for stability. 

“Did it work?” Your voice is crackly as a sharp, sticky pain climbs up your neck. 

The man huffs and glances at you before slowly making his way towards the figure, grunting as he tries to crouch down. He tugs the cloth upward and peers inside, expression unreadable. 

“Well?” 

Anders looks up at you, eyebrows drawn, “I have a lot more to write about.” 

Leaping forward at his words, you rip away the cloth slightly to expose the figure’s head, and you nearly pass out on the spot. 

“It worked. It worked. It worked.” Your quiet chants spurs on a wave of tears as you slowly run your fingers over Regulus’ face. The boy looked picturesque in his sleeping state, face no longer emaciated and bruised, but now mirroring his appearance from when he was just a portrait in your pocket. 

You brush his curls aside and resist the urge to just keel over and fall asleep on him, your magical exhaustion echoing through your bones. 

“Do you have something else on you that’s imbued with his magic?” Anders’ quiet words have you snapping out of your euphoric state, eyes drawn up in confusion. Seeing your perplexity, he clarifies, “He might not remember you, this ritual simply revitalized him and unchained his soul. He might only remember the events before his death.” 

You pause at the revelation and sit up straighter, hands dropping to your sides. Gaping for a few moments, your mind whirs as you try and grasp for the right words, “Uh, wait, yes. I have these.” Your hands fish into your pockets and you pull out the tattered pieces of the golden portrait frame, outstretching them for the man to see. 

“His portrait frame?” Anders’ eyebrows shoot up in stupefaction. 

Nodding, you slowly drop the pieces into his rough palm, “It doesn’t matter.” The man frowns, puzzled, so you continue, “As long as he’s okay, it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t remember me.” 

Straightening up from his position, he stares at the pieces of wood in his hand, “He just might remember… if these are truly imbued with his magic.” Looking up, you see skepticism flicker in his eyes, “Are you too beat for another ritual?” 

“You should be asking yourself that, old man.”

You don’t remember much that happens afterwards. 

As you crack your eyes open, lingering fatigue weighing on your eyelids, you are keenly aware of a hand running across your shoulders. 

“Reg?” Your voice comes out as a strained whisper. 

A familiar face pops into your line of sight, “He’s okay, just resting upstairs.” Luna’s smile warms your chest, and you resist the urge to turn over and bury yourself into the warmth of her arms. 

Your body was incredibly sore from the activities of the previous day, and you were sure that your magical core was rolling about, emptily inside of you. The longer you laid, the more groggy you grew as the air started to warm against your skin. 

Gently pushing up from the mattress underneath you, you run a hand down your place as Luna shifts to stand up. The girl helps you shuffle upstairs and towards the bathroom, quietly insisting that you wash up as she prepares tea for you. 

Sluggishly washing up, you take a moment to peer into the cloudy mirror, raising an eyebrow at the sight of heavy bags under your eyes. Your shoulders sagged from exhaustion, and the sound of your grumbling stomach prompted you to make your way towards the kitchen. 

As you slowly trudged into the room, eyes squinting from the beams of sunlight that flitted through the window, you see Asger approach you with a plate in hand. 

“Good afternoon. Dad’s in his research shed right now.” The man extends the plate to you, and your mouth waters at the sight of the hearty lunch. You nod in thanks and drop down onto an awaiting chair, gaze straying towards one of the closed doors down the hall. 

Asger, seeing your restless ministrations, chuckles before answering your unvoiced question, “He’s in there. Hasn’t awakened yet, but Dad said it’s only a matter of time. He's recovering quite fast.” 

Right, your rituals worked. Both of them. It was starting to come back now, and you could feel the weight of the frame pieces and your ring in your pocket, both now depleted of Regulus’ magic. 

Scarfing down your meal, and ignoring Asger’s cringe, you start to mentally debate on whether you should visit Anders first, or Regulus. Luna places a mug in front of you, and plops down into the seat next to yours, fingers fiddling with a few strings of yarn. 

Regulus won out, of course. 

As you dismiss yourself with endless words of gratitude to your two friends, you slowly make your way into the room Regulus was resting in. You cross through the threshold, mug in hand, and immediately surrender yourself to the comforting wave of magic that envelops you. 

The warm magic — Regulus’ magic, brings tears to your eyes, and you have to take a few moments to compose yourself. The aching hollowness in your heart, the one you had grown accustomed to in the following months after the destruction of his portrait, seems to sing with inklings of joy. 

You were still in a state of disbelief, mind reeling from the fact that you not only discovered uncharted branches of magic, but also that you got Regulus back. No, not only you — Sirius was going to get Regulus back, too. 

The boy in question was laid on a makeshift bed, covered by a fleece blanket. Anders took up the great responsibility of clothing him after your flustered realization that he was nude, the man murmuring tidbits about how he did the same for Asger when the younger man fractured his hip years ago. 

You walk over and sit down by his side, brushing your hand over his hair. 

Things would change now. They would be better. 

You spend a long while just sitting by the boy’s side, mind still unconvinced that he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. 

After a long thread of thoughts that devolved into heart wrenching what if’s, you decide to pay a visit to Anders, immensely grateful for his help and wisdom. The sunny skies slowly dimmed as clouds drifted by, the air chilling to sooth the faint migraine that still sunk its claws into your head. 

As you make your way into the research room, you can’t mask the smile that stretches across your lips. Anders was hunched over his table, hand moving furiously across a sea of pages as he tried to document every droplet of theory and fact on the papers. Not wanting to interrupt the man’s train of thought, you linger by the doorway before slowly teetering towards a fallen stack of books. 

You organize the endless towers of tomes for a few minutes before Anders takes note of your presence as he goes to stretch his back. 

“Finally awake?” His voice is light, and you could see the remnants of engrossment creeping in his eyes. He truly did have a passion for this branch of research.  

You nod and grin brightly at the man, “Sure am. Now, are you going to accept my thank you?” 

Anders grunts and waves you off with an amused eye roll — the closest thing to a “you’re welcome” in his language, and turns back to his papers, “Anyway, another owl came for you this morning. The letter should be on your stool.” 

As the man resumes his writing, you peer around to try and find the envelope, clicking your tongue when you find the paper beaming at you from across the room. 

Dear Padfoot’s pup, 

We hope you are well. At first, we weren’t going to accept the offer, but some unexpected events happened that forced us away. We are safe now with the frightening widow. We’ve gotten two more, but now the Goblins hate us. 

Stay safe. We are going to remain here until we are forced to confront the darkness. Unfortunately, we fear that it will be soon. 

We miss you. Padfoot keeps whining, we think he misses you most. 

-Prongslet and co. 

You laugh lightly at the contents of the letter, and you fold the paper back up. Good to know that Harry and the others were safe with the Contessa at the very least. As you stuff the paper back in the envelope, you see another folded paper sidled against the wall of the envelope. 

Hello lost friend of mine, 

A certain dragon of ours is growing restless, we fear that his blood father is in trouble with a certain man. The Carrows are a nightmare, and it appears that many students are disappearing with every passing day. Theodore keeps shooting down my (entirely plausible) theory that those twin professors of ours are hiding their bodies in a dark closet somewhere. 

I’ve received a letter from my mother informing me of the rearrangements at home, and I must say, it was quite a surprise. I haven’t heard back from you since you’ve departed, and I almost thought you were dead for a while. Glad to hear that you aren’t. 

Theodore says hi, and he wants to know all the research you’ve done. Our dragon also says hi and that he hopes you received his last letter. 

I hope to hear from you soon. 

(Reply to me.)

-B

“Was it a tawny owl?” Your question rings out into the quiet atmosphere, drawing Anders out of his work. 

The man gives you a grunt of confirmation and you nod in satisfaction. It would appear that Harry is corresponding to you via Contessa Zabini, the woman no doubt telling Blaise to forward the letter to you along with his. 

Merlin, what a strange web of dynamics.

As you tuck away the papers into your pockets, a knock has you spinning on your heel in curiosity. Anders barely even looks up from his work as you make your way to the door, a wave of deja vu slamming into you. 

Opening the door, you see Luna smiling brightly at you, similar to her airy demeanor from the night before.

Before you can get a word out, the girl quickly supplies you with news that has air fleeing from your lungs, “He’s awake.” 

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Second Son (XII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Dumbledore, Harry, and Y/N explore the Crystal Cave. Draco's mission proves to have dire consequences.

Part XI / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Oh man. Yay for the end of sixth year ? ... haha

The rocky ventricle of the cliff side was far less exciting than the seaside, but there was something beguiling about the dim green shine and wet black rocks of the cave. Harry was careful to maintain steady footing as you all hiked through the damp cave, soon finding a rounded dead end. 

Before you can question Dumbledore, he whips out a small knife from his robes, spinning on his heel to face you both. A small pang of panic shoots through your body before you realize that your headmaster was cutting his hand and not attempting to maul you both with the ornamental paring knife. 

Tilting your head, you search the man’s calm expression for an answer, “Sir?” Your voice trails off as he swipes his bloodied hand against the rocks beside him. 

The man turns to you both with an undisturbed smile, “To gain passage, a payment must be made. Payment intended to weaken the intruder.” 

You mask your bewilderment and simply shoot a fleeting glance at Harry, who did not even attempt to suppress his bafflement. 

As the blood seeps into the crevices of the rocks, the stone wall begins to flake and crumble. Stepping back as the rocks fall towards your feet, you feel your mouth drop open at the newly revealed sight of opaque crystals. The new cave pocket was alight with a dull gleam, displaying a likeness to a troll-size geode. 

“Voldemort never did skimp with such extravagances.” You muse, ignoring the unimpressed eyebrow raise Harry shoots towards you. 

As you all clamber over the seemingly endless hills of jagged crystals, you decide to reach out to Regulus, no longer able to ignore the persistent blaring of the hundreds of magical signatures around you. 

‘Reg, there are countless different magical signatures in here.’ 

‘I think I might know what this place is.’ Regulus’ words are hushed, clearly deep in thought as he tries to untangle the foggy web of memories that Sirius unlocked.

Darting your eyes around the darkness, you nearly slip as your concentration splinters into a dozen different directions. 

‘You do? How?’ 

‘The ocean. My human-self was immersed in research on some place called the Crystal Cave. Something about the beach and a hidden horcrux. Since you’re all searching for his horcrux, I can only assume my research was right.’  

Before you can coax Regulus for more answers, you stop behind Harry as Dumbledore peers across the vast darkness of the water. It seemed as though there was nothing left to explore, the eerily calm body of water expanding far into the void. 

Closing your eyes, you zone out of the conversation between Dumbledore and Harry, focusing on the overwhelming amount of magical signatures around you that seemed to be screaming for your attention. 

There was something familiar about the magic, it was almost like the magic around Regulus’ portrait except more potent with a tinge of something you couldn’t quite comprehend. Before you have time to contemplate these findings, you open your eyes as you feel a tug on your sleeve. 

Meeting Harry’s concerned eyes, you realize that Dumbledore had somehow managed to summon a small canoe from the waters and now both men were patiently waiting for you to collect yourself. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, gesturing for Harry to get inside before you. Dumbledore simply assesses you with a thoughtful look before turning to face the dark waters as you shakily step into the canoe. 

The journey across the waters is surprisingly serene, and you had half the mind to be cautious of enemies hidden in the darkness around you. It was troubling that you all hadn’t stumbled across any serpentine puzzles or tremendous creatures. 

If this place truly contains a horcrux, it would be best to be on guard. Underestimating Voldemort would only lead you to a swift death. 

As the canoe reaches the edge of a crystal island, you all part from the delicate boat quietly. Most of the journey had been spent in tense silence and you were beginning to get a sinking feeling from the cave, as if there was a large chunk of mystery you wouldn’t be privy to for a while. 

The three of you clamber towards the top of the crystal mound, circling around a particular crystal that emerged to form a basin. The depression at its center contained a cloudy liquid, an inky black fog swirling in the center to conceal the contents at the bottom. Dumbledore swipes his hand over the liquid, clearly trying to vanish it with magic. 

You feel confusion wash over you as the liquid warps under the pressure before merely repelling his hand. 

Dumbledore raises his head to look at Harry before turning to your questioning eyes, “It has to be drunk.” 

Stepping back from the basin, you nearly topple over as Regulus’ voice loudly rings in your head, voice strained with panic, ‘Don’t drink it! I remember now. The Dark Lord – he brought Kreacher here and did something to him. Kreacher barely made it out alive, but he was frenzied and told human-me he had drunk something.’

Regulus’ words come out in a huge rush and your nerves prickle from his uncharacteristic loss of composure. 

“Sir. I don’t think you should drink it.” Your words have both men turning towards you, clearly seeing no other way to access the horcrux. Biting your lip in contemplation, you decide to elaborate, “Headmaster, I’m sure you are already aware of my companion. He told me that the concoction nearly killed his house elf.” 

Dumbledore seems to consider your words before he drops his gaze back down into the basin, “I see. However, there seems to be no other way.”

Harry seems to be alarmed by your words and steps forward, “But sir–” 

Dumbledore holds up a hand and closes his eyes in resignation, “Conditions. There are conditions for you both that I failed to impart to you before we ventured here.” He opens his eyes and narrows them, “If something is to happen, you both must save yourselves. Do not worry about me.”

You share a look with Harry, before you reluctantly nod in agreement. They were not the most difficult conditions you’ve ever been given, between your headmaster and Harry, you would pick your friend, always. 

As Dumbledore and Harry fall into a hushed conversation about the conditions and the liquid, you slowly drift into your thoughts again. It didn’t make sense what you were feeling, how were there so many magical signatures around even with no sign of actual magical beings? You wanted to ask Regulus for help, but you knew that the boy likely knew nothing past what he told you. 

Exhaling shakily, you watch as Dumbledore scoops up some of the liquid before drinking it. The reaction is almost instantaneous, your eyes widen as you see his eyes darken, choked noises escaping his dry lips as he lightly convulses. 

“Professor? Professor!” Harry’s concerned words grow louder as the man grunts loudly, shaking more violently on the spot before tumbling down onto the ground. You lunge forwards, reaching out futilely as Dumbledore continues to grunt and jerk. It seemed as though he was no longer even aware of his surroundings, too enraptured by what the liquid was doing to his body and mind. 

Swallowing harshly, you feel fear prickle through your body as Dumbledore thrashes around before stilling suddenly. Harry turns to you briefly and your heart clenches at the sight of his horrified expression. 

Seeming to ground himself, Dumbledore sits up and jerks a hand towards the basin. Harry seems to understand what the man is trying to say and he rushes back to bring more of the liquid. 

You stay next to Dumbledore, helplessly muttering assurances to the man as he seems to be dragged back into his haze, beginning to groan and plead for something. Harry is able to keep his composure for the most part and continues to feed Dumbledore the concoction, rushing back and forth to try and empty the basin quickly. 

“It’s my fault!” Dumbledore’s wails are sure to haunt your dreams for the next coming months, and you’re faintly aware of the tears blurring your vision. It was one thing to face blood-thirsty creatures and other wizards in battle, it was another thing to be completely helpless in the face of psychological torment. You were barely strong enough for the former, you had very little training to cope with the latter. 

In the flurry of your panic, you’re unaware that you’ve been flooding your mind link with anxiety until you feel a sudden wave of comfort being nudged toward you by Regulus. The warm feeling of his magic wrapping around yours grounds you and you make note to thank him later.  Shaking your head, you push aside your dread and focus on the task at hand.

Just as your mind clears, you see Dumbledore cease in his hysteria, feeling Harry lean down towards the man from next to you. You both release an exhale of relief as your headmaster seems to be fully aware again, his eyes no longer glassy and unseeing. 

“Water.” His croak comes out dry and you shoot up from your spot to clamber towards the basin, eyes widening in relief as you see a pendant laying at the bottom. 

It worked, you had the horcrux now. 

Wrapping your fingers around the object, you’re struck with confusion almost immediately. The locket had no magical trace or signature whatsoever. 

“Wait. Harry-” Your words get caught in your throat as you turn around and see Harry standing still, attention drawn to something in the water. Bringing the locket up to your face, you scrutinize it further, still feeling no residual dark magic. 

Gripping the chain tightly, you slowly pull it over your head and tuck it underneath your shirt, not perturbed by potential dangers as you realize it was practically just an ordinary necklace. 

You had seen cursed necklaces before, and you were fairly confident that it wouldn’t toss you into the air like Katie Bell or try and choke you to death. 

Great, you all suffered for nothing. 

“Lumos Maxima!” Harry’s shout distracts you from your thoughts and you begin to walk toward him, still not understanding what he was seeing. As you near the edge of the island, you gasp as you feel an onslaught of magic suddenly crash into you. 

Stumbling back, you watch as pale, gaunt figures begin to claw their way from the water’s surface and toward you both. The grisly creatures were all milky, but you could see some distinguishing differences between them all. 

What disturbed you most though was the fact that you could feel faint magic lingering around them. As you backed away, you realized that aside from the numerous unique signatures, there was a darker, suffocating magic that blanketed them all. 

Your mind started racing – They were puppets. Reanimated using magic. Not corpses, but not living. They were people. Perhaps a branch of necromancy.

It all clicked. “Inferi,” You gasp and grab Harry’s arm, dragging him towards a stunned Dumbledore.  

The inferi were far more harrowing in real life than in pictures from your textbooks. You could see the sunken skin that seemed to bloat around protruding bones, and wisps of hair that sprouted unevenly from their bulbous heads. 

Harry begins to fire off spells at the army of inferi and you reach around your jacket for your wand, eyes widening in panic as you realize they were surrounding you. 

“Fire! Harry, they fear fire!” Your shout is drowned out by Harry’s yelling and you groan in frustration. Grabbing your wand, you thrust it up and swing your arm over your head, “Pluvia Ignis!”

The heat of fire envelops you immediately and you blearily squint your eyes as a colossal ring of fire blazes up toward the cave’s ceiling, licking at the muggy air. Continuing to whirl your wand, you let out a sigh of relief as you see that you hadn’t burnt your companions to a crisp. The heat had the inferi receding back into the waters, but your celebration is cut short as you realize that the ring of fire was now consuming nearly every inch of the cave. 

Dumbledore stumbles towards you, one arm slung over Harry’s shoulders as the boy helps him find his footing. Ceasing your movements, you move to join the two as you watch the last few inferi dive into the water. 

Furrowing your brows, you feel a sudden pull toward the water. The pull was coming from your pocket and your hand, and you drew your hand back as you saw your finger gravitate toward the dark pool. Your ring was being attracted towards the water for some strange reason. 

Feeling the tug persist, you incline your head to look at your pocket. 

No, it wasn’t just your ring, but Regulus’ portrait as well.  

‘Reg?’ 

‘There’s something wrong. I feel…’ The boy’s words are shaky, but you can feel how his confusion mirrors yours as he trails off.

You have little time to ruminate further as you’re soon being dragged off by Harry as Dumbledore parts the flames. The inferno drags away into two tall walls, clearing a direct path back toward the other side of the cave. 

The journey back passes by in a blur as you’re busy with making sure Dumbledore wouldn’t keel over and die, while Harry moves the canoe along as quickly as he could. All along the way out, the tugging gradually faded and soon the conundrum was buried away in your thoughts. 

As soon as you all stumble out of the cave, Dumbledore grabs both of your elbows and apparates away from the shore. The warping of your body through the travel has you disoriented and mildly irritated, and you were mentally cursing your past-self for all the decisions that had amounted to the events of that day. 

The three of you touched down at the astronomy tower with a loud pop and muffled groans, your knees nearly buckling from exhaustion as soon as your heels slammed against the wooden boards. 

Harry helps guide Dumbledore to sit down, the man further weakened by the apparition. As you crouch down in front of the enervated headmaster, you both can barely make out what the man is mumbling. 

“Severus…Severus,” Dumbledore wheezes out. You share a look with Harry and usher him away with a wave of your hand, “I’ll stay and watch over him. You hurry and find Snape.”

Harry doesn’t look entirely convinced, but seeing no better alternative, complies with your words and quickly disappears behind a pillar and into the darkness. Before you can turn around to focus your attention on the pallor man next to you, you hear light footsteps slowly ascend the staircase. 

Turning your body to fully face the stairway, you reach for your wand and tense up in anticipation. To your surprise, you see Draco’s figure slowly round towards you both with his wand drawn. 

“Draco?” Your words are painted in disbelief, and you feel a pit lodge in your throat at the slytherin’s frantic eyes and white-knuckled grip. 

‘Reg, Draco is going to attack us.’ You clench your jaw and keep your hand on the hilt of your wand. 

‘Defend yourself, forget about Dumbledore.’ Regulus’ words are firm, with such strong conviction that you almost get whiplash thinking about how fraught he had just sounded in the cave. 

Shuffling away from the headmaster, you stand up shakily and draw your wand out to your side, not exactly rising up to the challenge, but ready to defend yourself. You were confident that you could hold up just fine against Draco. 

“L/N?” Draco sounds a tad surprised, as though he hadn’t seen you up until that moment, “What are you doing here?” His voice is now as panicked as his face, and you see his hostile demeanor falter slightly. 

Holding up one of your hands, you try to reason with the boy, “Draco, don’t do this. I know, okay. I know.”

Your words seem to only incense the boy as he practically snarls at you, “You don’t know! You don’t know what it’s like to be chosen!” With his last words, the boy is tearing the sleeve of his left arm upwards, thrusting his dark mark into your gobsmacked face. 

As your eyes drop down in resignation, you make eye contact with an alarmed Harry who was crouched on the floor below. Subtly shaking your head at the boy, you drag your eyes back up to look at Draco. 

The boy’s face was now twisted in something akin to pain, and you felt pity root you to your spot. Before you can open your mouth to speak, your attention is grabbed by the sound of a door opening in the distance. 

Frowning, you shuffle back to block Dumbledore, “You’re not alone?” 

“A passage. Vanishing cabinets that I repaired.” Draco’s words are embittered, but you knew it wasn’t towards you. . 

Noddin, you shrug one shoulder at him, commending him for his ingeniousness. Seeing that you were not going to reply, he lowers his wand slightly, “I don’t need you. Go. You need to leave. I only want him,” he jabs his chin in the direction of Dumbledore, who was still slumped on the floor. 

A large part of you did want to run, but you didn’t think you could ever look Harry in the eyes again if you did. 

‘Run, birdie. Listen to him. Protect yourself.’ Regulus’ pleads make your finger twitch and the urge to abandon your incapacitated headmaster grows stronger. 

“You know I can’t, Draco. Please don’t do this.” You step forward and reach out to him. 

The boy shakes his head fervently, “I have to. I have to kill him, or else he’s going to kill me.” His voice cracks with the last confession, and you feel your jaw clench at the cruelty of the situation. 

“I can help you. Blaise and I, we can protect you.” Your words are soft and you see Draco frown in conflict, eyes shining from unshed tears. He seems to almost believe your words — that you could possibly get him out of this predicament, but any semblance of resolve disappears as footsteps echo from the stairwell again. 

Looking down at the hole in the floor, you see that Harry is gone, possibly hiding or getting help. You shakily exhale before looking back at Draco. The slytherin looks at you like you’re about to be walked to your execution, and you can feel a stone of dread sink in your stomach. 

The first person to pop up from the staircase has your heart stuttering from fear, “Bellatrix.” Your voice is surprisingly firm, and you almost want to pat yourself on the back from how well you were standing your ground. 

The woman in question whips her head towards you and lets out a booming cackle, hands clutching at her stomach like she was just pronounced the heir to an enormous fortune. 

“Ickle, Y/N,” The crazed woman approaches Draco, peering over his shoulder, “and, oh! Dumbledore! Two sitting ducks!” She breaks out into more laughter and you avert your eyes from her hysterics to look at a distressed Draco. 

‘Y/N, leave. You can’t take on Bellatrix, she is utterly insane. Apparate somewhere, please.’ Regulus’ voice seems to fade out in your head as you go still from shock when you see Fenrir Greyback make his way towards you. Just as you regain enough sense to try and turn tail, the werewolf is hauling your figure towards him in a bruising grip, slamming you up against a nearby pillar. 

You gasp in shock and grit your teeth to stop from screaming as the werewolf moves a hand to grip your throat. Before you can try and hex the beast, a monotonous voice breaks through the tense atmosphere, “Enough.” 

Darting your eyes away, you almost want to cry in relief as you see a stone-faced Snape make his way out from the shadows. The grip on your neck slackens and you try to find your bearings by gripping the ridges of the pillar behind you. 

The rumors that Greyback was horrifying were not exaggerated by any means. 

Before you can breathe out in relief, figuring that your ex-Potions professor likely would spare your life, Greyback grips one of your arms tightly and stuffs his other hand in your jacket pocket, tearing himself away from you, Regulus’ portrait held victoriously above his head. 

“No!” Your scream is guttural, feral even, but the werewolf simply grins widely at your distress, pointed teeth menacingly peeking from his mouth. You try to lunge for the werewolf, wand drawn, but you feel someone slam into you before you can get far. 

Thrashing against the figure, you cry out as they twist your hand behind your back, making you drop your wand. Before you can plead with Morgana to send you the strength to hurl your assailant through the wall, you hear a voice harshly whisper in your ear, “Stop it. You’re going to get yourself killed.” 

You tense from shock and whip your head around to see a frustrated Draco glaring down at you in warning.  Pursing your lips together, you feel tears gather on your waterline as you turn back and see Greyback handing the portrait to a delighted Bellatrix. 

“Foolish child!” Her words stung, but your snarl only seems to amuse her, “And baby cousin, how disappointing.” Bellatrix’s smile is vindictive, like pure acid, as she appraises Regulus. 

‘Reg. I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry!’ Your frantic words pour out as tears begin to slide down your cheeks, eyes blurring violently from the endless onslaught of tears. 

‘It’s okay, birdie. It’s not your fault,’ Regulus' words are loud in your head, and you release a strangled sob, feeling Draco tighten his grip on you at the sound, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone as much as I’ve liked you.’ 

Blinking away the tears, you can barely process what was happening as Bellatrix suddenly draws her wand, “Bombarda!”

Regulus’ portrait explodes in a spray of gold, pieces of the frame clattering around the floor, and you see the canvas flutter to the floor between you and the madwoman. 

“Reggie!” You try to throw Draco off of you, but the boy overpowers you and keeps his iron grip on you. 

Regulus turns his gaze towards you and you see him flash a small smile at you, one full of longing and sorrow, ‘I’ll find you again, my love.’ 

“Incendio!” Bellatrix’s gleeful yell echoes throughout your head, deafening you, but you’re sure it was your screams that could be heard from the other side of the castle. You feel Draco flinch behind you, and you drop down onto the ground, taking the slytherin down with you. 

You hunch over, tipping your head onto the floor as you begin to sob, incoherently mumbling as the death eaters around you seem to direct their attention to Dumbledore. 

You knew you should have kicked Draco to next Yule and grabbed your wand to defend the weakened headmaster, but you could barely tie together a coherent thought, and when you did, it only revolved around Regulus. 

Regulus – who was gone, for good this time. Gone because of you. 

It would be a euphemism to describe the feeling as emptiness, because what you were feeling transcended any feeling you could precisely pinpoint. Bellatrix might as well have thrust her claws into your chest and wrung your heart to a bleeding pulp. 

You wanted to bang your head against the wood and beg for a redo of the entire day. 

It was all a terrible dream. 

Yes, it was nothing more than a figment of your imagination. That made sense, you would never be that weak, right? 

Yes. You were dreaming.

This had to be a nightmare. 

Opening your eyes, you feel your nails digging into your head just as black dots start to swim in your vision. You couldn’t find the strength to lift your head up. 

It all had to have been a dream. Otherwise, why would it be so silent around you? You could sense it, nobody was in the room with you anymore. 

The dark spots start to move more vigorously, blooming across the wood and overtaking your vision. As your sight waned and the rushing of blood in your ears settled, you heard a muffled voice reach you, “Shit! Y/N!” 

And then you knew no more than darkness. 

Yes, it had to be a dream. Just a bad dream. 

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Second Son (VI) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Y/N goes looking for Regulus. Umbridge's spectacular rise and fall are overshadowed by the group's mission to the Department of Mysteries.

Part V / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Not canon compliant. Regulus isn't in most of the chapter, but the events that occur are crucial to the story line.

You didn’t head to the dining hall for dinner that night. After sitting on your windowsill in a state of disarray until darkness blanketed over the castle grounds, you realized that Regulus didn’t intend on returning anytime soon. 

If ever. But you brushed that thought aside as soon as it surfaced; you didn’t want to mull over the possibility until you were absolutely certain, and you weren’t going to be unless Regulus told you to your face. 

Curfew would sweep into the night any moment now, so you made a decision. 

Startling up from your stupor, you quickly grab Regulus’ portrait frame and your wand, pacing out of your dorm and the common room. Many sent you furtive glances, intrigued by your determination, while others full-body turned as if tempted to warn you against toeing the line for curfew. 

However, it seemed that their words were caught in their throats after catching a glimpse of the blood-stained bandage around your hand. It was clear that you were aware of the consequences of breaking the rules, and you just hoped that you wouldn’t run into Umbridge on your walk. 

You wondered what would happen if she caught you. Surely, she wouldn’t use the quill on you again, but you couldn’t rule out the wandering thought that she might just test out a potion by pouring it down your throat. 

You truly couldn’t wait for her to run back to her post at the Ministry. 

Walking along the cold castle corridors, you cast a silent lumos and bring up the bulb of light to scan the collection of portraits around you. Many of the portraits hissed at the brightness, whispering furiously to usher you away. You didn’t pay any mind to their protests, eyes darting around frantically to try and find Regulus. 

You knew that portraits could wander into other portraits located in the same building, so that narrowed down his whereabouts. Unfortunately, Hogwarts happened to be a proprietor of hundreds of valuable portraits–so Regulus could be anywhere.

Growing restless as hot frustration pervades your chest, your shoulders sag as you stop in defeat. Standing in the middle of the corridor, your wand resting by your side, you turn your head up to the ceiling. It felt like a million thoughts were whirring in the back of your brain, yet every single one evaded your mental grasp. 

It was overwhelming. There were too many conflicting thoughts and emotions coursing through you. Unconsciously patting the vacant frame in your pocket, you begin to slowly walk forward into the darkness, no real destination or plan in mind. 

It was likely past curfew now, and you imagined that you’d already be halfway down to the shrieking shack if you had Harry’s invisibility cloak on you. You didn’t want to stay in your dorm, every inch of your side of the room was infused with the memory of Regulus. 

You wanted to be somewhere where you could forget. Somewhere that took your mind off of Voldemort’s antics. Somewhere where you could stop stewing over the absurdity of your feelings and attachment to Regulus–a portrait. 

Merlin, you weren’t even sure how much of him was human. What did he retain? Was he real? Yes. Maybe. You didn’t know. But it was giving you a headache. 

Maybe him leaving was good. You needed to sort out your feelings and confusion. 

Suddenly, you hear two pairs of footsteps echo around the walls. Loud clicking and uneven stomps. You had grown accustomed to hearing those two walks. Umbridge and Filch. Scrambling further down the hall, you quickly disperse your lumos as you reach a turn in the corridor. 

As you throw yourself against the stone wall, you peer from around the corner to see a faint light along with two figures. They stop just yards away from your position in the darkness, and you hear Umbridge begin to order Filch around, “These as well. They must go at once!” 

Of course, he was doing her bidding. You were pretty sure he had a school boy crush on her. 

Furrowing your brows, you watch attentively as Filch begins to lift the portraits off the walls, shaking them to the side to empty them. Shock paralyzes your body as he continues to move down the frames, savoring the loud protests echoing from the other paintings. 

Umbridge looks downright pleased by Filch’s compliance, simply making a noise of approval before spinning on her heel and strutting back from the direction they both came from. 

This was madness. First, performing Ministry evaluation on teachers, now dictating what kind of decor was appropriate? But it didn’t make sense, why would the Ministry want all of the castle paintings removed? Making Hogwarts a barren institution did very little for them. 

Quickly straightening up from your huddled position, you begin to walk down the dark corridor, eyes partially accustomed to the dimness now. There was no way you could cut past Filch now, so going back to the dorms was completely out of the question. Perhaps, you could just spend the night in the Room of Requirement. 

As you quietly navigate through the castle, a sudden epiphany strikes you. Stopping in your tracks, your mouth parts in dumbfoundedness as you realize that the Ministry does not care about the castle paintings. Umbridge taking them down was out of her own fear, and as a show of power–something she would have never done without explicit permission. 

Dumbledore would never allow the paintings to come down. Which means the Ministry did something to usurp Dumbledore. 

Merlin. Was he being punished for the D.A.? If so, Umbridge was now the reigning head of Hogwarts. 

And Harry didn’t know. 

Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, you pick up your pace towards the Room of Requirement as you process the revelation. As you quickly approach the wall in your distraught state, you let your mind slip to the first thought screaming at you in your head. 

I need to find Regulus. 

The large wooden doors appear with a muted crackling, the door handles protruding out just large enough for you to distinguish in the darkness. Quickly swinging open the door, you don’t process the sight in front of you until the door is shutting behind you with a click. 

You are rooted to the spot for what seems like hours, taking in the familiar sight in front of you. This seemed to be a cruel joke, but the magic doesn’t lie, your magic seemed to sing in harmony with the room just as it did over the summer. 

The disappearing room at Grimmauld Place was right in front of you. No. Just the disappearing room. It didn’t seem to be truly tied to Grimmauld Place if it appeared at Hogwarts. 

Inklings of warm magic flowed throughout the dusty room, entangling with your cooler magic. Earlier, you thought of a place where you could find Regulus. Did that mean that he somehow was in the disappearing room? 

Closing your eyes, you concentrate on reaching out to the magic in the room. You had spent enough time with Regulus’ portrait to grow familiar with the feeling of his magic. If he were in the room, you would be able to tell. 

The cool stretch of your magical core blanketed the room, but gradually receded as you realized you couldn’t feel Regulus’ warmth. Oddly enough though, you felt something akin to Regulus’ magic, almost like a faint wisp of magic tied to the room. 

What could it all mean?

Your escapade brought more than you could have bargained for. The information was overloading your brain, and you slowly willed your legs to move around the cluttered room. 

Yes, this was truly the disappearing room, not a fib version conjured up by the Room of Requirement’s magic. 

There was time to kill, meaning you could finish exploring the expanse of the room’s items. Over the summer, you were too engrossed with bonding with Regulus to try and sift through the items, and you weren’t sure you’d get a window of opportunity quite like this again. 

Running your eyes along the room, the familiar dresser you attempted to investigate the first time you accessed the room caught your attention. Slowly reaching over to pull out the bottommost drawer, you hesitate for a beat as if anticipating for Regulus to magically appear and ask you what you were doing like he did the first time. 

When nothing happens, you suppress a heavy sigh of disappointment. Pulling at the brass knob in defeat, your eyebrows stitch together as the drawer’s contents reveal themselves. 

The first to catch your eyes is an expanse of gloomy colors, painted delicately to capture the details of an ashen cliffside, strokes of navy and sapphire paint overlapping to create waves. In the right corner of the canvas, signed in the peaks of a wave, a simple R.A.B beams up at you. 

Regulus Arcturus Black. 

The painting was so finely detailed that you could have mistaken it for a photograph. 

Under the oceanside painting, you realize that dozens of canvases occupied the drawer, evidently all belonging to Regulus. 

It felt like you were intruding on his privacy, so slowly, you pushed the drawer shut and tried to erase the sight of his vivid paintings from your mind. Taking another once-over of the room, you huddle against one of its corners, resting your head on your knees. As your eyes grew heavier, and you slipped into the void of unconsciousness, one last silent thought burned at the surface of your brain.

Regulus stored those paintings in here while he was still alive. He’s been here at one point in time. 

You’re nudged awake by an aching in your lower back, body stiff from the position you fell asleep in. Unfortunately, there was no telling how much time had passed since you went to sleep, so it was better to leave sooner than later. 

Stretching your sore muscles and stiff joints, you quickly smooth down the wrinkles in your shirt, tightening your tie. Luckily, you didn’t go exploring in your sleep wear the night before. Reaching for the crystal door knob, you pause and take in the sight of the room one last time. 

Until next time. Your bittersweet farewell left a sour note in your chest as you were forced to return to reality. 

Quickly exiting the room, you swing your head furiously side to side in order to scan for people. Releasing a breath of relief, you realize the corridor was desolate. Facing one of the grand glass windows, you realize that it was around sunrise. Good, there was time for you to sneak back to your room before your dorm mates woke up. 

As you padded through the passageways, you realize that Filch managed to strip away every single portrait from the castle walls overnight. He was surely dedicated, but now you were incredibly anxious about Regulus’ whereabouts. 

In the spur of your tornado of thoughts, you suddenly are struck with a realization that has you loudly gasping and suddenly sprinting to your dorm room. 

Today was the first day of your O.W.L exams. Oh you were nominally, extraordinarily fucked. 

As you sit in Umbridge’s class, quill in hand, you briefly amuse yourself with your thoughts as you stare down at the paper in front of you. You had almost skipped breakfast in favor of last minute cramming, but your dorm mates practically hauled you to the dining hall, reprimanding you good-heartedly about your absence during dinner the night before. 

Question 7. What is the incantation for the tongue-tying curse?  

Sweet Merlin. Sifting through your mind, you curse yourself as you realize that there were a lot of holes in your memory. Your stress and anxiety over Regulus seemed to impede on your mental capacity. Think. Mutterwutter? No, that’s not it. Mibblewimbble!

Silently cheering at your victory, you go to write the answer, but a distant rumble pulls you from your concentration. Lifting your head up in confusion, you note that everyone was now distracted because of the noise. 

Tilting your head to the side, you briefly make eye contact with Umbridge as she hurriedly goes to investigate the source of the disruption. 

One moment there is a gaping silence as everyone waits with bated breath, the next, the twins are flying in on their brooms, scattering your test papers in the air. You’re unable to contain your laugh of wonder as they proceed to chuck sticks of fireworks over your heads, bursts of colorful sparks clouding the ceiling arches. 

Oh, Mrs.Weasley is going to be so pissed.

Soon, you’re joining Harry and Ron’s side as you watch a firework dragon chase Umbridge towards the doors of the classroom. As the dragon explodes around her stout figure, the sharp sound of shattering glass cuts through the noise of firework explosions. Umbridge freezes in shock as the frames of her educational decrees come crashing down from the walls. 

Splints of wood surround the furious woman and you’re snorting a laugh as you take in her ashen state. 

Oh, how the cookie crumbles. 

Grabbing Harry’s hand, you don’t look back as everyone in the class rushes outside to follow the Weasley twins, cheering at your professor’s karma. Amidst the thunderous noise of clapping and laughter, you’re snapped from your excitement as Harry makes a choked noise next to you, beginning to sway on his feet. 

“Harry?” Your voice comes out as a mere whisper. 

He seems unaware of your panic, slowly falling to the ground, eyes wide in fear and shock. You scramble to kneel in front of him, grabbing at his shoulders as he breathes heavily and seems to look through you. 

Another vision from Voldemort. Of course, the bastard had to spoil every happy memory Harry had. 

The few minutes seem to blur together, one moment Hermione and Ron were crouching next to you, the next, you were rushing up deserted stairs with the trio as Harry frantically explained his vision. Your stomach churns at the thought of Sirius being in danger, having been captured by Voldemort of all people. You weren’t exactly close with the man, but he was Harry’s family and Regulus’ brother, so you did care to a great degree for his safety. 

“What if Voldemort meant for you to see this? What if he’s only hurting Sirius to try and get to you?” Hermione’s words come out breathless, but firm, trying to ground Harry to reason. 

“What if he is? I’m just supposed to let him die? Hermione, he’s all the family I’ve got left.” You find yourself agreeing with Harry’s words, but you also know you could very well be marching to your death because of this vision. 

The conversation leads to the formulation of a shifty plan, something you were already used to dealing with, having been friends with the three for so long now. As you all break into Umbridge’s office to access the floo network, your heart nearly stutters to a stop as Umbridge’s sharp voice interrupts your mission and punctuates just how screwed you all were. 

Damn, you forgot to check to see if the room was warded. 

You gave little care to her prattling as she pushed Harry into a chair, members of the Inquisitorial Squad holding you and your friends by your collars like wet dogs. Though, your attention snaps to Umbridge once she slaps Harry, berating him for his dishonesty. Merlin, even Draco shifted away in shock. 

God, where was Rita Skeeter when you actually needed her?

Your mental cries for help only increased in severity once Professor Snape came barreling through the doors, sneering down on Umbridge as she requested the use of Veritaserum on Harry. 

Merlin, she’s lost the plot. 

It seemed that the trio’s influence rubbed off on not only you, but a couple of your other (usually reasonable) friends as well. It was merely half an hour after Umbridge tossed you out of her office when the four of you, Luna, Neville, and Ginny were convening on the bridge, conceiving another, probably awful, plan. 

If Voldemort and his death eaters didn’t get you first, the Ministry surely would toss you to the dementors for trespassing in the Department of Mysteries. Reaching in your pocket to toy with Regulus’ frame, you nervously try to run through a back up plan in case everything spiraled into disaster (which it most likely would). 

Harry’s scouts in action, once again. Though, you’d do it all over again for him, he didn’t deserve to shoulder the burden alone. 

But if you died, you’d never get to say goodbye to Regulus, and no one would know about his portrait. 

He’d be alone again. 

That left you all but one choice. You couldn’t die, even if that meant having to kick Voldemort where the sun doesn’t shine in order to escape. 

“Luna, I love you, but if I fall off and die, I’m going to be quite miffed.” Your words come out playful, but you were being completely serious as you try to suppress a wave of nausea once she suggests flying on thestrals in order to get to the Ministry.  

Couldn’t you all have a normal day for once in your life? 

Forget a career. You’d just write an autobiography about your adventures after you graduate. You could be the next Gilderoy Lockhart–except without all the lying and felonies.  

Surprisingly, you didn’t slip off or faint on the journey to the Ministry, even when you got lightheaded as your thestral suddenly dove down once you were nearing your destination. 

That’s a win in your books. 

You find yourself fiddling with your wand as you all clambered into one of the Ministry elevators, adrenaline suddenly weaning away as unease enveloped your body. Tilting your head to look up at the elevator ceiling, you have little time to panic as you feel a hand land on your shoulder. 

Turning your head to the side, you raise an eyebrow at Luna’s soft smile, “Don’t worry, he is always watching over you.”

Mouth falling open at the girl’s ominous words, you can only squeak out a small response, “Him? As in God?”

She shakes her head in amusement, leaning over to quietly whisper in your ear, “The one who is always with you, in your pocket. The nargles told me. They say he’s a strange one, special magic. I can see it too, all around your ring.” 

Shifting your shoulder to study her in shock, your hand instinctively slaps against your jacket pocket, the frame pressing against your palm. 

As the elevator dings, Luna loops her arm in yours, “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

Releasing a breath of exhaustion, you simply pat her hand and whisper a small, “Thanks.” You’d question her uncanny abilities at another hour, for now you just hoped you’d all survive to see the next sunset. 

As your group warily files into the hallway, you take a moment to appreciate the interior design, intrigued by the design choice to have floor-to-ceiling black tiles.  

Understandment dawned on you though, once your group entered through the hallway door, entering a vast room of high shelves, spanning hundreds of feet high, so far that it seemed to disappear into the darkness. As you peer over Neville’s shoulder, you realize that the shelves seemed to go on for hundreds of rows. 

It seemed that the Department of Mysteries was going for a grand theme of monotony. Fascinating stuff. 

Casting a small lumos, you trek next to Luna as your group walks further down the aisle, Harry soon breaking away to rush and see if Sirius was anywhere around (being tortured and whatnot). Luckily, Sirius was nowhere to be found. Unluckily, you had an eerie suspicion you were now all trapped like rats in a metal cage. 

Harry reaches to pick up a small orb of fog, a familiar voice beginning to croak a prophecy as he holds the sphere tightly. That voice. You knew that voice, and apparently so did Hermione as you see her cringe from the corner of your eye. 

Bloody hell, Professor Trelawney was responsible for Harry’s prophecy? You had no idea the woman was an actual seer, after all, Luna gave her a run for her money. 

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice is quiet but taut with panic, a sound concerning enough to have your group following her gaze towards the darkness. Slowly, a masked figure breaks through the wall of black.

A death eater. 

“Fuck. It’s a trap.” Your words come out breathless and you spin on your heel to check your surroundings. Not being able to identify any other threat, you turn back towards the approaching death eater just in time for them to pull out their wand and disperse their mask. 

Fuck, even worse. Not just any death eater, it was Lucius Malfoy of all people. Of course, Voldemort just had to send in the most insufferable, bigoted–wait. Was that?--

“Bellatrix Lestrange.” Neville’s words come out with more bite than you’ve ever heard from the boy, and for a moment you want to break from the tense moment to give him a proud smile. 

Not the time. 

As Lucius continues to try and coax Harry, your nerves prickle as you realize that you were gradually being surrounded. Shifting closer to Ginny and Luna, you draw your wand as you steel your nerves. 

“Now!” Harry’s command has all of you firing off your best stupefy as you begin to sprint through the endless rows, inevitably splitting up as death eaters begin to apparate around you. Realizing that you somehow managed to end up alone, you prepare yourself just as a black swirl appears in front of you. 

Ducking as a spell flies over your head, you whip your wand towards the cloaked figure, hissing a confringo that fires off more fiercely than you intended. Seemingly startled at your reflexes, the figure narrowly misses being reduced to meat scraps by apparating away, allowing you to blindly sprint forward. 

Merlin’s balls, you just casted a pretty impressive curse. 

Letting out a noise of surprise, you nearly crash into your friends as you all reunite in a circle. As a black wisp quickly flies towards you, Ginny steps forwards and casts a firm reducto, reducing the black wisp into a bright light. That didn’t kill anyone, did it? No matter. 

“Ginny, you are truly amazing.” Your words come out unevenly as you try to catch your breath, catching the small smile the redhead sends your way. Your amusement is cut short, though, as the impact of her spell has orbs falling from the shelves and raining down towards your group in heavy clusters. 

Trespassing? Check. Breaking and entering? Check. Destruction of private property? Check. Potential manslaughter? Check. Today was just a fun little getaway to see how much you could extend your criminal record.

Soon, you’re all blindly running towards a door that has you falling towards the ground at an alarming speed. Just before you’re reduced to a human pancake, you all are jolted to a stop just inches away from the ground. 

As you’re softly dropped onto the floor, you let out an ungraceful grunt as you clamber onto your legs, trying to make sense of the day’s events. You probably aged ten years from stress, so surely Harry would die young from heart problems at this rate. 

Looking around the room, you realize it was completely empty save for the giant stone structure erected in the middle. The translucent swirling that filled the door-shaped gap of the structure made you realize just exactly what it was. 

“The veil.” Your whisper comes out as a mixture of awe and excitement. 

“Indeed.”  

You barely have time to register the scratchy voice behind you before you’re being manhandled by an iron grip, holding you in place. Your friends have no time to notice your predicament before they’re being swarmed by streaks of black. 

Damn. A part of you had hoped that the death eater lieutenants had succumbed to the downpour of crystal balls earlier. 

In record time, the intruding death eaters have you all successfully apprehended, victorious sneers painting their faces. 

Sure. How impressive of them to successfully take down a group of students. 

Their victory doesn’t last very long as before they could do any real damage, light fills the room as Aurors apparate in, allowing you to sag in relief. The man holding you draws in a breath of panic before he’s tossing you to the side and firing off a killing curse at Moody. 

Awfully nice of him to spare your life, yet vaguely offensive that he didn’t perceive you to be a threat. 

Not wanting to interfere with the Aurors' concentration, you hurriedly shuffle away from the fighting and towards your friends. Sweeping your eyes over the chaos, you manage to see Sirius guiding Harry away from blasts and hexes, guarding him from flying rubble. No doubt, the man was still cracking jokes at such a time. 

The next time you look over at the pair, you almost tumble down in shock as you see a curse hit Sirius square in the chest. His body goes rigid before immediately falling limp, slowly sagging backwards. 

Your heart seemed to disappear in that moment, dread pouring over you like a bucket of freezing cold water. 

Harry’s scream is unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him, but it's enough to kickstart your brain. 

Acting on instinct, you pull out your wand and cast a swift trahens actio, snagging his body towards you midfall, pulling him from falling back into the jaws of the veil. There was still a chance.

The next few moments are a blur and you’re barely focused enough to stay upright. You’re vaguely aware of Harry sprinting after a cackling Bellatrix, and you lean back against the wall, finding purchase on its stability. Sirius’ motionless body lies a couple of feet ahead of you, and you want to sigh in relief as you see Remus sprinting towards him, dropping to his knees and immediately checking for a pulse. 

Murmuring incoherently to yourself, you blindly fish around in your pocket for Regulus’ portrait, needing to ground yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

As you blurrily peer down at the small item, you’re sure you must be dreaming as you lock eyes with the boy you’ve desperately been looking for, his own eyes swimming with concern and uncertainty. 

“Reggie?” 

And the world seems to stutter to a stop.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @surelysherly @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @urgurlfave @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel

[0.8k] tangled lights, glass ornaments and christmas memories in the making as you spend the holiday with the marauders.

.

“Sirius, put the tinsel down!” 

“But it looks good on me, love.” 

“Yeah, and I am sure it will look so pretty when I strangle you with it.” 

“Ouch, so testy for the festive season.”

A snort could be heard from somewhere behind you both.

The marauders were undoubtedly a handful to deal with, and you had known that for many, many years. From your first year when a wild curled James settled into the seat next to you, thrusting his hand out to you and slipping his name in between his rambles with Sirius and Remus quickly settling on the other side of you—to now, where the lot of you stood in the Potter Manor living room with boxes of decorations and one job given by Euphemia Potter to have the tree decorated before she returned. 

As it would turn out, decorating the tree with three overgrown children was much more difficult than you had convinced yourself it would be. 

Keep reading

Language of flowers.

Pairing: Young! Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: In a moment of darkness, Remus finds the light of his life.

Warnings: angst, grief, fluff, hurt/comfort, flower shop AU, lots of flowers

Masterlist

The flower shop was open, colors drifting through the breeze. But the sky was grey and Remus was feeling a weight crushing his heart and soul.

It was hard to say where it started and where it ended, the sky or the heaviness of his heart.

It had been a few months since 31st of October, spring slowly settling in. A few months since Remus had found himself alone, with his bestfriends dead or imprisoned.

A few months since Remus had been questioning everything he ever knew. He often wondered about it. If he was to be there with them, would things be different? And what about Padfoot?

He couldn't answer his own questions. They drove him insane.

A few birds, flying over him and chirping, brought him back to reality. Life was coming back to life, basking in the glory of now, but he was still stuck in the past.

A bell dinged when he opened the flower shop's door and all sorts of sweet smells hit him. There was some stark, but delicate, almost lacy, perfume drifting through the air, some daring ones too (like the lilies in the corner).

Lilies.

They broke his heart.

"Sorry, I'll be at the front in just a moment!" a soft voice called out.

Remus made no move whatsoever, afraid to wither the flowers with even just an intake of air. He was just standing there, in the middle of the isle, surrounded by bouquets and flowers, with his hands in his coat's pockets and shoes sticking to the floor. His hair was probably a mess too (when was it ever not?).

The soft pads of converse against the pristine tiles and the swishing of a dress drew his attention to the backroom. She was wearing a polka dotted, red dress and a warm smile. She reminded Remus of spring itself. "Hi! Sorry for that, just some organizational stuff! How may I help you?"

She was looking straight at him, not afraid to meet his eyes and he suddenly felt small, fidgeting on the spot. The flowery smells tickled his nostrils. "I, uh- I want to buy some flowers."

Her smile broadened, her white teeth glittering in the light. "Well, I sure would hope so! It is a flower shop, after all."

He felt his face burn up and he cleared his throat. "Just those lilies, please."

Her gaze turned to the flowers in the corner, their white so fragile and pure. "That's beautiful. Lilies symbolize purity, something heavenly. Did you know that?"

He shyly shook his head. His voice croaked out a no.

"Well, now you do." she softly smiled at him before going to take them out of their vase. She started counting them. "How many would you like?"

Remus remained silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. "An even number would be fine."

Her moves halted, hands wrapped around the flowers' stems. "Oh, I see."

Even numbers for the deceased, odd numbers for the living.

Without turning to him, the florist brought six lilies out of the vase, putting them tenderly on the counter, as if she was dealing with a porcelain doll. "I'm sorry for your loss." she quietly added, her voice just a mere sound in the air.

Bashful, Remus shrugged, his hands still stuck in his pockets.

"These are beautiful flowers. I'm sure they'd love them." she continued, her fingers delicately tying a blue ribbon around the lilies.

He slowly lifted his head. "She was a lily and he always loved lilies." he whispered, but he was sure she still heard it. Her eyes met his, in a compassionate gaze, a touch of sadness in them.

"I'm Y/N." she said in a meek voice.

"Remus."

She handed him the bouquet, fingertips brushing. A strand of hair was falling from the ponytail she hastily put up. "That'd be ten pounds."

"Make it twenty. For the company."

She laughed, eyes lighting up and cheeks blushing. "You're a charming one. But can't do. It wouldn't be fair. Just ten pounds."

Remus felt a daring something in his chest and he took a step closer to the counter. "Fifteen and we'll see each other again?"

She shook her head, a smile still etched on her lips. "Yeah, okay, can't say no to that."

His own smile turned into a grin, before he put the money on the counter. He straightened his back and saluted her.

Y/N waved, her voice carrying sounds of worry. "Take care, Remus. Flowers wither easily."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

He knew the path all too well, taking turns through the cemetery. Left, right, left and right again. He was still holding the lilies in his hands, maybe a bit too tightly, his knuckles turning white.

It was a bit odd coming back here. Nothing ever changed since the funeral. And he supposed nothing would ever change. Life would go on, time passing by, but the cemetery would still be stuck here in a time bubble, a testimony to the past.

He knew the path all too well. Right, left, left. Grave stones after grave stones. Left, right, left. Stillness. Quietness.

Loneliness.

He remembered the times when they would all joke around (Prongs had the most bonkers ideas), and Lilly would be the one who'd always get them out of trouble. He remembered how it felt to have someone besides you in the darkest moments.

And now he had no one.

Right, left. Stop.

The grave stone greeted him like always: cold and motionless, their names hitting him like bullets.

James and Lilly Potter.

He'd forever miss them.

Remus placed the bouquet on the grave, letting a moment of quiet pass, before he turned on his heels and left.

He knew the path all too well.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

He kept coming back to the flower shop every month. At first he only bought lilies in even numbers, but then she started suggesting him to try something else ("Maybe white hyacinth. It symbolizes loveliness, prayers for someone.") Other times, she'd have a bouquet ready for him to pick up.

Remus no longer felt lonely. There was a light in every thing she said or did. She was careful with her words, and even more careful with the flowers. More often than not, even surrounded by a multitude of colours and flowers, the only flower he ever saw was her.

It was a wonder, to begin with. He'd get lost in the way she handled the flowers, so carefully, delicately. Just a touch of the hand, caressing them, never squeezing them. Angelic. Velvety.

After a while, he started to stop by just to greet her. He'd usually find her in the back, planting seeds or wetting the flowers she was growing. (These are irises. They symbolize faith. Isn't that beautiful?")

Y/N was the whole spring in the form of flowing dresses and warm smiles.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The flower shop was closed that day. He frowned in a confused manner, sticking his hands in his pockets. For a moment, he rocked on his heels, looking around, a breeze ruffling his hair. And then he turned to leave, a destination already imprinted in his mind.

But a weep stopped him. He recognized her. Her voice was muffled and strained by cries, but it was still her voice.

He followed the sound, taking the corner of the shop. His knees were weak, trembling just at the thought of her crying.

He found her on her knees, near a grave behind the shop. There was a whole meadow behind the flower shop, flowers everywhere and Remus figured out that this is where she was growing most of her flowers.

He took a tentative step towards her before stopping abruptly. What was he supposed to say? Words failed him.

Y/N sniffled. "I know you're there. I can feel you, you know?"

Remus gulped, before taking a seat near her. He didn't dare to take a look at the grave, instead gazing at her, waiting for her to say something. Patiently.

"I'm sorry that I closed the shop today."

He shook his head desperately, reaching out with his hand to touch her arm but dropping it at the last second. He didn't know how to comfort her. "Hey, hey, it's fine. I understand."

A broken laugh made it through her lips. "You're my most faithful customer."

"Irises, right?"

Y/N laughed again, turning to meet his eyes, unshed tears shining in her own. "You remembered!"

He shyly shrugged (he seemed to be doing that often around her). "Of course I did. I remember everything you ever tell me."

Her grin turned soft and her gaze dropped. "You're sweet. I wish I could repay you for all the kindness you've ever shown me. The business thrives just because of you."

This time he didn't hesitate to grasp her hand. She was soft, just as he always imagined. She was warm too. Her touch was velvety, much like a petal would be. "Don't say that. It's always a pleasure to come by. And your flowers are some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. They're very alive. You put love in your work. Anyone would see that."

She raised her head, wonder in her eyes. "It used to be mom's business. But I took over once she-" She inhaled. "Once she passed away."

Remus was familiar to grief and loneliness. He slightly squeezed her hand.

"Her name was Iris." Y/N added.

He nodded his head. "I see." He pushed behind her ear a strand of hair. "My best friend's name was Lily."

Her eyes turned sad once again. "Purity."

"Faith." Remus replied, referring to her mother's name.

An unspoken, shared pain settled between them as she slowly let her head fall against his shoulder, a few birds singing in the distance.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The bell chimed when he enter the flower shop that evening. He was smiling, his face flushed.

"Sorry, just a sec!" her voice called out, much like it did the first time they met.

Her converse padded against the tiles much like they did the very first time. Her dress swished like it did the first time.

And Remus blushed much like he did the first time he saw her. Y/N's face lit up when she rounded the corner and met his gaze. No amount of greetings could reflect the excitement and warmth in her eyes. The sun would be jealous of the light in them.

She approached the counter, a skip in her steps. "What flowers this time? Magnolias?"

Remus shook his head. "Roses."

Her lips formed a perfect "O", eyebrows rising. "That's new. Even or odd?" she asked, already going around the counter towards the flowers.

"Odd, this time." replied Remus, carefully watching for a reaction, one that'd betray her thoughts (he was hoping for a blush to resurface, or a tint of jealousy).

Even numbers for the deceased, odd numbers for the living.

Her moved halted, fingertips barely brushing the roses' stems. "How many?" Her voice was even, but Remus could detect a sound of annoyance in it.

"Just one. A single red rose."

The flower shop went silent. Somewhere outside, leaves rustled and the wind of early April started picking up, ruffling the trees. Her hands froze in the air, once again, before she straightened her back, her face void of emotion. Her face betrayed her, though. ''Who's the lucky one?''

''You.''

It was as if time stopped. Y/N was speechless for the third time that day and Remus took a few steps closer to the counter, trying to meet her eyes. ''It's you, Y/N. The rose is for you.'' And with a tremor in his voice, he hastily added. ''That is if you accept it.''

He was now in front of her, hands on the counter itching to touch hers, to grasp her fingers in his, ''Please, do.'' he whispered.

She slowly lifted her head, her eyes shyly meeting his. ''Is it for me?''

Remus nodded his head, soft crinkles appearing in the corner of his eyes. ''Indeed.''

''Nobody has ever given me a flower before.''

''That's quite ironic. You have a flower shop.'' he said while a breathy small laugh escaped his lips. His fingers tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. He could see her bright eyes clearer now.

She shrugged. ''People buy flowers for others.''

Remus cupped her cheek gently. ''And now I bought one for you. Please, say yes. Let me take you out. I promise I'll be extra good. I'll hold doors open for you. I'll hold your hand. I'll pay. Just- just have me.''

Y/N turned her head slightly and kissed the back of his hand. ''Yes.''

A grin broke out onto Remus' face and he lightly let his forehead fall against her, the sun rays bathing both of them. The quietness filling the room. Tranquility.

''You'll still have to pay for the rose, though.''

''Right, yes. Of course.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I've always felt for Remus after the whole Voldemort fiasco. All his best friends died or got unfairly imprisoned. One of them even faked his death! So, this fic kinda blossomed (pun intended) from that. I threw in some language of flowers as well, lots of researching!

Another Remus Lupin fic is in the works. Hint: it's a Titanic AU.

If you'd like to be added to my tag list, just comment under this post or send me an ask! Lots of love xx

Tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

Hard day | Remus Lupin x gn!reader

SWF

Summary: Your boyfriend Remus, has had a long day. You need to tell him what he means to you.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, so lovey dovey, no mentions of pronouns, nicknames (love, dove), tw for mentions of self-injury and scars, a bit of angst, happy ending, kissing.

Word count: 700

Remus Lupin was not a loud man, definitely not, the exact opposite in fact -soft-spoken, patient, kind-hearted, lovely. Most importantly he was yours, all yours to share with no one…most of the time.

Remus Lupin was not a loud man, so when he slammed to your shared flat you splashed a little tea onto the tiled floor of the kitchen, letting out a yelp of surprise.

Keep reading

Title: Eyes On Me

Genre: Slytherin! Yoongi, Ravenclaw! reader, smart and kind! reader, bad boy! Yoongi, pureblood! Yoongi, muggle born! reader, tutor au, fluff, and angst

Summary: Professor Longbottom asked L/N Y/N to help Min Yoongi out with Herbology. She’s excited to help another person out but Yoongi on the other hand doesn’t want people knowing she’s hanging out with him. Instead he tells her to study within the room of requirement but Y/N assumes it’s because he wants peace and no distractions to study. As time passes, Yoongi sees her more as his tutor and starts to develop a crush on the strange girl but what happens when his Slytherin friends see him with her?

[ The distance I feel from you is too far, I can't let go of a little trace I got from you ]

[ Preview ]

His deep voice hit her ears making her face turn a light red shade. Professor Longbottom smiled at this and looked at Y/N with a soft look, “Is that okay for you, Ms. L/N? You can always decline it if you're busy with your studies.” 

She shook her head at him with a smile on her face. She glanced at Yoongi to see that he was already looking at her (with a blank expression), “I would love to help.” 

“Alright, thank you Ms. L/N. Mr. Min I expect your next test grade to be at least a 70.” 

They nodded their heads and left the classroom. She saw that he was walking faster than her and she grabbed his arm to stop him. He glanced at her and she noticed that he never had a smile on his face. She gave him a nervous smile and looked down at the ground, “I was wondering when you want to study. I usually study on the weekends to make things easier but if-”

“We can study on the weekends. I have charms to get to, can I go?” 

She let go of arm and looked down ashamed that she kept him from his class, “Yeah...I’m sorry about that. I guess I’ll see you around.” 

“Yeah.” 

She watched him go down the hall until he disappeared. She frowned to herself and looked down at her shoes, Yoongi, you're so weird. When Yoongi turned the corner, he leaned against the wall and clenched his chest as he felt his rapid heart beat on his hand. He felt his face turn red now that he's alone and he hoped no one saw it. He ran his hand through his hair as he let out a deep sigh, “Y/N...”

TILL FOREVER FALLS APART !

summary: when sirius said siblings are off limits, james never thought he would break that rule as his best friend was the only one to have siblings close to their age, but everything seems to change when the sister sirius swore to hate because of her cruelty has several detentions with him and she’s not as cruel as her brother described.

notes: james potter x black!reader. reader is a twin sister of regulus, kinda angsty at the end, hurt/comfort, sirius is kind of an ass. not proofread

you really thought that the detention with james potter would go easy. not a word would be shared, him not even looking at you as he probably know your relationship with his best friend, and then you two would have a week free from each other, but james potter seemed to be interested in you – or more likely, how did you end up in a detention.

he saw you as a perfect black, that’s how sirius would describe you, or your twin brother whenever someone brought up your name. and no matter how positive it sounds, he was always negative, never mentioning your childhood, and how attached you were to him.

the perfect black daughter, more ideal than narcissa or bellatrix, the one who would never obey her elders unlike sirius or andromeda, the one who would do whatever they say to please them.

well, it was partially true, you could give that to him. but you nor regulus weren’t like any other family members. you weren’t brave enough to stand up to your parents and survive the punishment with a smile on your lips like your brother did, you two were two afraid to do anything that could make orion or walburga mad.

but both of you were proud slytherins, with regulus being one of the best quidditch players of your house, and you impressively good at whatever you touched. you were plotting against your parents, the death-eathers and everyone that could get in the way of your plan. an escape plan, to runaway somewhere far like france or canada, while everyone thinks you died. nonetheless, sirius couldn’t know that – he barely spoke to any of you, which just worsened when you were invited to the deatheaters meeting at your house.

in his eyes, you were nothing but a piece of shit like rest of your family for being unable to runaway earlier, for having no one to runaway to, as the rumors about your enjoyment in dark magic spread at school with light speed. however, unlike sirius you had your twin, always ready to stand up for you and vice versa, always ready to fight anyone who says a bad thing about you.

sometimes you and regulus would sneak out of the house and wander around the crowded streets of london, thinking how would your life looked like if you weren’t wizards, if you weren’t born into a family with an obsession of blood status and keeping it pure.

what made you even more perfect in everyone’s eyes was that you looked exactly like a female version of regulus, or more accurately, he looked like a male version of you. wearing the same clothes when you didn’t have to wear robes, and it wasn’t like you planned it – you had a gut feeling to wear your expensive like hell, black coat, and so had he. you looked intimidating, walking next to your brother, evan rosier and other friends of yours with faces that seemed to never experience any emotions. like rocks, untouched by people’s words, stares and pointing fingers.

“how did you end up here?” your companion asked out of sudden, making you shift in your chair. you already finished cleaning the classroom but there was still more than an twenty minutes left, and you couldn’t just leave for whatever reasons. “didn’t expect to see the perfect black sister having time to bother herself with things like detentions.”

“and why does it interest you, potter?” a sigh slipped from between your lips as you rest your chin on the left hand. “so my brother can have more reasons to despise me, because as i presume, you’ll tell him.” you didn’t even let him have a glimpse of your mimic as he could only see your back.

“oh, miss black, who do you think i am?” you heard him get closer, and take a seat by your side, probably briefly looking at the book you’d read. he could swore to merlin, he thought it’d be a book containing black magic spells you would cast if flinch didn’t confiscate your wands. but it was far from dark margic. “i’m just curious, have heard a lot of… things about you and wanted to check myself.”

you fixed your black hair before quickly considering if you should tell him the real reason or the made up one you’d told evan and pandora. “hmm, what would i get from telling you?” you leaned closer to him, revealing your face. it was one of your first encounters with james potter, and hell, you know it wouldn’t be the last one, since there were at least four next weeks of detention together.

“we could figure something out, y’know.” he shrugged, scanning every inch of your flawless skin, starting at your eyebrows and eyes, through lips to chin. you were gorgeous, and james couldn’t blame the first years that sometimes followed you like a lost puppy around the castle, trying to gain your attention or the girls having their lesbians awakening while watching slytherin’s practice with you as a substitute for your brother. every comment he had heard about your immaculate beauty was so real, that he could swore he would develop a crush on you in other circumstances. “just tell me.”

“i stood in my brother’s defense, the one you know better.” you replied, averting your look back to the book you were reading, not really bothering yourself to catch a glimpse of james’ parted mouth as he realized the sense of your words. “any more questions or can i finally focus on my book?”

“why did you- how did you-?”

“as much as some people tries to say, i do care about my family members’ well-beings, even though they refuse to talk to me or my twin.” you let out a little too harsh than you planned. “and no one will say anything bad about my brother unless it’s me or regulus.” you didn’t even wait for his reponse, leaving the classroom as soon as the clock hit nine in the evening.

you could say everything, yet you decided to reveal part of the thing that happened. and you knew that james would, most likely, tell your brother how you tried to gain his attention by making up a story. what you didn’t tell him was the part where you broke lucius malfoy’s nose, completely forgetting how much influence had his father on yours, and how mad they would be.

the next detention went… smoother. james didn’t bother you with questions about elaborating on the reason of your punishment, however it wouldn’t be james potter if he stayed quiet. especially when you didn’t have to clean the classroom again, just sit in silence while mcgonagall watched over you, but unfortunately (for you) she had to leave.

“miss black, didn’t expect you here.” a chuckle left his mouth, sitting himself in front of you, taking in your gorgeous face. “any kid’s dreams of dating you crashed last week?” for a moment, a millisecond, he could see a shadow of smile on your lips, and james potter felt like he already accomplished his mission for today.

“how did you guess?” you rolled your eyes in a playful manner, allowing yourself to look at the boy in front of you. his dark curls fell onto his forehead, and you could swear if it wasn’t for his glasses that somehow kept them out of his eyes’ way, he wouldn’t see a thing.

and you couldn’t know that, but james potter wouldn’t let himself miss such an opportunity to just stare at you for at least few minutes. it was strange, he never wanted to just look at a girl, who wasn’t lily evans and interested in him at the same time. though somehow, you were living free in his mind, making the boy catch himself on staring at you during meals.

“pulled out some prank on snape lately?” you added before he replied, a hand put under your chin as you leaned over the table, watching his every move. his eyes lit up immediately on your visible interest in whatever he had done during the previous week. “not a fan of snape?” james questioned, his eyebrow higher than usually.

“please.” you rolled your eyes again. “is there anyone who’s a fan of snape besides your girlfriend?” you let yourself smile at him for a brief moment, before shifting in your chair.

“evans s’not my girlfriend.” his replied shocked you, you could’ve sworn to yourself you saw them snogging somewhere. not that you cared with whom james was making out. you didn’t care, at all. “rumor has it, you two hook up a lot.”

“i’d throw up over him rather than do anything that involves physical touch. he disgusts me.” you knitted your eyebrows together at the so-called rumor, you already heard from sirius on christmas.

“why? because he’s a half-blood?” the gryffindor seeker blurted out before thinking, causing you to back out from the conversation, a strange feeling of pain raising in your heart. it was something he would regret saying later at night, processing every inch of your talk, realizing that everyone thought you were a pure-blood supremacist, and probably it wasn’t the best thing he could say to you.

“because he’s a misogynistic piece of shit, potter. snape could be a highly born pure-blood wizard, the best one out there, but if he says things like this about your little girlfriend when she’s not there or any female in general, he’s a piece of shit like any of his friends.” your words came out harshly, but you felt disrespected by someone who tried talking to you first.

the rest of the detention you spent in silence while james was explaining something that involved brooms and words snivellus, regret, and some other things you didn’t pay attention to, too busy counting minutes to the end of that cruel meeting.

however, the third and fourth were much more… pleasing, you could say. the boy pulled an expression like if he actually wanted to get to know you on his own and found out what made you silent a week earlier. it almost felt like it was planned, mcgonagall’s presence needed somewhere else, and a bunch of sweets you adored, snatched from the kitchen in a little bag in his hand.

“sorry. for the last time, i said some stupid shit that didn’t mean to come out like that.” he confessed, genuine in his voice was so clear that you couldn’t held back a smile, forming on your lips upon seeing his gesture. “don’t say shit like i didn’t have to. i did. i wanted to apologize, and get to know you.”

“hmm, apologise accepted.” you spoke out softly, offering him a bar of chocolate. “but, mister potter, why do you want to get to know me so bad? thought other people know everything better than me.”

he shifted in his position, getting closer to you, a mischievous smirk spread over his lips. “y’know, miss black, you’re an interesting person, and i can’t get you out of my head, so i had to do something about it.”

the upsides of your immaculate skin was that it tended to get red-ish rapidly, and that comment of his with the flirtatious tone made you burning red. without any shield to cover your face, you broke the eye contact with the gryffindor, and smiled involuntarily, feeding up his ego.

however, it didn’t took you long to look him in the eyes again, continuing the conversation with a smug smile that matched his. “what would you like to know, ask and i’ll answer.”

you awaited questions like how is it to be a death eather, or have you ever thought of killing someone for your parents’ sake, or anything that would make you cringe inside. although, he firstly asked you questions people never remember the answers to — what’s your favorite colour, muggle movie, a book you could recommend him to read in a free time.

“james potter likes contemporary romances?” you laughed, shaking your head at the answer to the last question he gave you. there was no imagine in your head of james potter, the great seeker of gryffindor, reading a contemporary romance book with eagerness and passion. “i’ll like whatever you recommend me, pretty girl.”

“hmm” you dragged out the words, searching for something in your bag. an exclusive, limited edition costing thousands of muggle’s money, of your favorite book – the pride and prejudice by jane austen. there was a brief moment of hesitation, was he just playing around and you would never get it back, or does he really wanna read it? there was something in his eyes that made you trust him prior to handing him the book. “it’s my favorite one.”

“you like classics?” you nodded.

james felt a weird, tingling feeling in his stomach as you clarified it was your favorite one, and now he had it in his hands. he recognized the muggle author, because his mom read a lot of muggle classics and romance in her freetime. it was bizarre to learn you liked muggle book, hardly ever mentioning a wizard one.

for the rest of the third detention you just… talked, ending up with being walked by him to the basement, so the disscusion you had wouldn’t be cut off so suddenly. the fourth one was even better, the best of them as there was no awkwardness between you two, despite the closeness of your bodies. he sat next to you, your arm and leg touching his whenever he leaned closer.

this time, you were the one talking — infuriated by some guys from ravenclaw that had catcalled you a few times on your way to the detention and one had tried to touch you, thinking it was okay to touch anyone without their consent. they were seniors, finishing school in june when you were a fifth-year, frightened by the vision of writing owls in may.

james just nodded his head, not daring to interrupt you even once, maybe in fear of getting hit by your hands that couldn’t stop moving ever since you started your monologue. he just chimmed in a few times saying true and yes, but he was focused on how your eyes flickered with annoyance and anger, making you even prettier.

“are you even listening to me, james?” the way you empathized his name made his stomach do a flip, a whole acrobatic performance. it was one of the first times, or even the first, when you referred to him as james, not potter, not mister potter or anything you’d called him before, james. “yeah, yes, sorry. assholes from ravenclaw, right?”

he walked you to the entrance of slyherin common room for the last time as it was your last detention together for a while, and you smiled at him warmly before disappearing behind the doors. the first thing you saw after stepping into the room was your brother’s interested smile.

“potter walking you here? someone got a crush.” he laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the stairs up to his dormitory. “sirius would probably kill him if it was true, my dearest little brother.” you replied walking into the room of your brother and his few friends.

“sirius would kill who?” rosier walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waistline, winking at you with a flirtatious smirk. “quit it, evan. she’s my sister.” regulus was faster to reply.

you plopped on evan’s bed as it was the only free one and sighed. “reg thinks a certain gryffindor has a crush on me because he walked me here.”

“twice.”

“okay, yeah. james walked me twice and regulus thinks he has a crush on me for simply being nice, after literally interviewing me.” you mumbled, crossing arms on your chest. “there’s nothing to discuss here, he’s a gryffindor, a potter, it’s just inherited kindness.”

“and why are you so involved in figuring it out, sister?” your brother asked with a smug smile, his eyebrows high up as he thought he found out about your great secret. “do you reciprocate his little crush on you, huh?”

“shut up, asshole.” you rolled your eyes, throwing one of evan’s additional pillows at him. “do i look like a 5’4 ginger with a gryffindor’s scarf hung around my neck?”

“please, if i’ll see you one day in a fucking gryffindor robe, i don’t know who i am going to kill first, your future boyfriend or you for cheating on me, pretty girl.” evan sat beside you, almost immediately throwing his hand over your shoulder, pulling you closer to his still wet-ish chest.

you laughed, making yourself comfortable. unfortunately for regulus (who always wanted to kill any of his friends that tried to hit up on you), you enjoyed your flirtatious relationship with evan. “you think really highly of yourself, mr. rosier, took my first proper make-out and you think you decides on which robes i wear?” you shot back, biting back a playful grin appearing on your face.

“you know what i mean, sweetheart.” prior to regulus gag, you sent your friend a kiss and he pretended to catch it and hide in the depths of his heart. “of course, lovely.”

“please, get the fuck out if you want to be all couple-y here with each other.” andrew, another friend of your brother, groaned with fake annoyance as you sent evan another kiss. “what, andy? you jealous or something?” your friend laughed in an answer.

the next time you saw james was when a guy that tried to harass you, walked into the great hall with ugly, red hair and a robe with a large, inscription above his head “i harassed a younger girl.” he sat at the table across the hall, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips as you were the only person his eyes had focused on.

fifteen minutes later, you met him under the willow tree, a smug rosing on his face when you caught his glance. “miss black!” he called out, waving at you. “did you like what i did? especially for you.”

“it was… funny, you know.” you chuckled, taking a seat next to him as you had around twenty minutes left before anyone that could suspect basically anything would walk out of the castle. “i can give you that.” you mumbled, closing your eyes when your head touched the rough tree limb.

“sooo, you should go out with me as a favor, pretty girl.” he sent you a charming smile that would make your legs weak if you weren’t sitting next to him. “maybe on sunday, watchu think?”

you wanted to disagree, say no to him and explain yourself that your older brother, his best friend at the same time, wouldn’t be fond of this idea, though he looked at you with those alluring, brown eyes of his, and you couldn’t deny. “fine. sunday, it is.”

and that’s how you two began to go out, sneaking around and lying to your brothers that nothing really went on with the two of you. nevertheless, sirius was completely unaware of your little dates as anything had barely changed — james still talking about lily with a picture of you in his mind, and you… still didn’t talk to him. whatsoever, regulus knew about everything by connecting the dots and following the clues you left him unwillingly.

“i’ll kill him, hope you know that.” he spoke out suddenly, when you tried to get to your classroom in time, especially because it was potions and slughorn never tolerated lateness. never if you weren’t his favorite students that he collected like gems, giving them privileges and other additions that were probably against school rules. “huh?”

“potter.” you froze in your tracks for a minute. “if he ever lays a hand on you like our father did on our mother or do anything that upsets you, he’s dead.” a warm smile was painted on your brother’s mouth as he cocked his head to the side.

“what? don’t look at me like that. i’m not dumb as others to not notice the smiles he sends you from across the hall or how you disappear to hang out with julie, when she’s alone in the common room.” he exclaimed, a few laughs left his mouth, when you still frozen, looked at him with horror in the eyes. “i’m happy for you, chill, ugly face.”

“you’re not mad? fuming? furious?” you asked, voice somehow still low when you entered the classroom. “will you try to name all the synonyms for mad? and i’m not, y/n. i’ll leave that for the other brother you have.”

you gave him a quick side hug, before occupying yourself with anything that the teacher said, scolding you for being late, again. however, all you had on your mind was the date, your soon-to-be-boyfriend took you on.

it was the date, you’d say… a surprise one, and with james, they were on the normal basis. he would somehow let you know that there are places you need to be at night and a guide on which type of clothes should you wear (and a few notes saying how good you look during the day). then, he usually awaits you beside the enterance to your common room under the invisibility cloak, waiting to finally be able to kiss you. three nights ago, you two ended up in the pub, drank a few butter beers and met a few people that sixteen and fifteen years old probably shouldn’t met at night, they acted nice though.

however the night when everything went downhilld was the night you were supposed to spend in the library, studying to the upcoming owls that stressed the living shit out of you since the beginning of school year. a cup of coffee standing beside the books to transmutation, your biggest nightmare, dark red stains adding a little life to the white cup that was emptying with every other moment.

you were about to get another sip of the sweet liquid you’d prepared earlier, when it was snatched from your hand while someone planted a sweet kiss on your lips. “hey, love.” his voice so soft, and delicate you almost passed out from the tingling, warm feeling in your abdomen.

love, love, love. you would let someone kill you to hear it one more time.

“jamie, hi.” you tilted your head to the side, smiling at the boy warmly. “that’s the first time i see you in the library, something happened?” he shook his head with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

james was the only person along regulus that you had never minded having any form of physical touch, as you grew up with the minimum you sometimes got as a reward. with all the other boys that tried to get somewhere near you at the parties it was just weird, having their arms thrown around various parts of your body had never failed to make you uncomfortable, even with evan you couldn’t be fully okay.

but james… you craved it to function like a normal human being. his touch was like oxygen, the feeling of his hands on your waist, hips, hands was… enchanting, making you want to live again. it was like if you were in a romance book, having the full epic, first sight, soulmates love with a twist (your brother’s hatred towards you). was it love? you couldn’t say yet.

“just wanted to spend some time with ya, y’know?” his hand flew to his curls, ruffling it as he lowered his eyes, focusing himself on the books in front of you. “transmutation? the old hag loves me, you could’ve said something.”

“i tried to figure it out on my own, but i barely moved from the starting point…” you let out a low groan, hiding your head in your hands, exhausted. “didn’t want to be a bother, you know.”

“love, i got outstanding from my transmutation owls, it’s like an easy revision for me.” he planted a kiss on her check, before leaning closer and stealing another sip of her coffee. “i’ll get us something to eat and you’ll be first in your classes”

“mkayy, thank you, jamie.”

well. there wasn’t much of studying, if you were honest. when the lights went finally out, your boyfriend put the invisibility cloak on top of you, so ms. prince wouldn’t catch you past the curfew. the minute she closed the library’s door, you felt potter’s lips crashing into yours, one of his hands pulling off fabric of the cloak.

he sat you down on the table, tossing the books aside. his hand gripping your thigh firmly, after sliding it underneath the fabric of your skirt. you could feel the burning marks his touch left on your skin, heated kisses tracing down your neck with hickies almost all over it.

you would probably keep going if it wasn’t for someone that dropped whatever they had in their hands upon seeing you two. before you could notice any characteristics of the person you heard james let out a mumble “oh fuck”.

and then you saw your brother’s face.

oh fuck indeed.

he stormed to you and before james could even react, he was hit by the shoulder of sirius whose eyes were still on your face. “stay the fuck away from my brother.” the way he empathized the word brother made you feel like someone just stabbed you in the back repeatedly. with the moment these words left his mouth, your whole expression changed to the emotionless and blank, the one you gave everyone but your friends.

“sirius…” your boyfriend sighed, his hand, the one that had a grip on your thigh, was now on the oldest boy’s shoulder. “don’t. this is between me and her.”

“stop messing with my friends’ heads. you don’t deserve to be near them, none of them is a fucking deatheather like you or the other one, none of them will ever be, because unlike you two, they’re good.” he spat, eyes burning with fury. “i don’t care how many of your charming smile you had to give him to take the amortentia from you, but it’ll end, sooner or later.”

“you don’t even know me, sirius.” you stated, your tone still and awfully cold as you got off the table and stood in front of your brother. “don’t act like you do, brother.”

“don’t call me that.” he replied, taking your wrist in his hand. “i don’t fucking care that we grew up together, that we share our last names. we’re not siblings since you and regulus joined his forces. so stay the fuck away from james, he doesn’t even love you, the only thing he talks 'bout is evans.”

“does he, really?” you cocked your head to the side, not letting his words influence you, not here. “you know, maybe your so-called brother wouldn’t have to lie to you if you weren’t so obsessed with hatred you have towards me and regulus. maybe he could tell you that he was the one who started bugging the shit out of me, maybe he could tell you how did we even meet.”

you could see sirius flinch, averting his gaze to potter, who tried to get in between you for a moment now. “don’t tell me it’s true, prongs, after what she did to me?”

“what i did to you? you were the one who left, brother, you’re the one who cut us off the second we were sorted to slytherin, you runaway and you’re mad, because i and reg were fucking kids who wanted to survive.” your voice broke, nevertheless, it didn’t stop you. “you didn’t even try to do something, save us, yet both of us were so fucking stupid defending you whenever someone brought you up. i broke lucius’ nose when he talked shit about you, but fucking evans is closer to being your sister than me, i’m so sick of it.” you couldn’t hold up your coldness, and calmness and you broke down within the end of the sentence, mascara smudged all over your cheeks as you cried while running out of the room.

you didn’t expect james to run down after you — you thought he’d stay with his friend, becuase there weren’t anyone you thought would run after you (excluding regulus, because he would jump into the flames with you). so when your boyfriend barged into the moaning myrtle’s bathroom you were shocked.

“baby…” he spoke out quietly, pulling you into a hug, gentle but tight. you didn’t even look at him, just cried your eyes out while breaking his heart by saying how tired you are of everything, and how you wanted sirius to be your brother again. a few kisses were planted on your hair as he tried to calm you down.

“jamie, please don’t leave me now.” you pulled away to look at him, eyes already red and swollen from tears. you weren’t used to show how vulnerable you were, and a thought of your boyfriend leaving you, because of it was so realistic in your head.

“what? why would i?” he knitted his eyebrows. “y/n, i love you and i know that deeply inside you care about what sirius think of you, but you have nothing to be sorry about, okay? with that said, i won’t leave you, never, okay?” you nodded lightly, resting your head on his shoulder.

“i love you too.” you whispered. “at least we don’t have to hide anymore, right?” a small smile painted on your lips upon your words.

“it’s us against the world right now, love.”