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Dear Rabbit,
If anybody else were to read this, they’d likely consider me insane for writing to what they think of as an imaginary friend, particularly with me being in my A-Level year and all. As I recollect, you’ve similar exams coming up called NEWTs. I still remember my confusion when you told me that you’re parents expected all Os from you, RAB, and your likewise confusion when I said I was aiming for all As.
You are quite real, RAB, but the fact you’ll likely never see my letter doesn’t mean you’re not real.
So why write this letter at all, when I know you’ll never receive it?
Simply put, I want to put pen to paper how much that night we met means to me. It was definitely real, but quite magical, wouldn’t you say? Thank you for sharing so much of yourself, of being honest even though being honest regarding what you were going through hurt so much, not to mention could get you into so much trouble.
I don’t regret anything about that night, nor will I ever forget.
Love,
Olivia Granger
…
Writing the letter proved satisfying.
Olivia carefully folded the paper into thirds, planning on stuffing the letter away with her other papers in one of her desk drawers when a hand reached out snatching the paper away. She turned slightly in her desk chair, glaring at her oldest brother. “Richard!”
Standing up, she wasn’t tall enough to snatch the letter back. Quickly, Richard turned around as he lowered the letter down, his eyes glancing over the contents of the letter. “Should I be concerned about this so-called magical night of yours?”
“On top of the fact it’s really none of your business…” Olivia snatched the latter away, quickly tucking the letter into her desk drawer. “…you need to stop acting like my father. You aren’t.”
“So this Rabbit person is some boy I need to worry about?”
“Told you. Stop acting like you’re my dad.”
“Olivia. I’m acting like your older brother because I am your older brother. By ten years I might add, so that does give me just a smidgen of parental authority over you.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Seriously though. Do I need to worry about this Rabbit person you’re writing in code to?”
“Code?” Oliva shook her head frowning the entire time. “I’m not likely to see him again even though I’d like to, so no. Now get out of my room. You’re not supposed to just barge in here.”
“I didn’t. The door was open.”
…
To Olivia,
I don’t expect you’ll ever receive this letter, particularly since I’m likely to burn said letter or hide it so maman can’t find it. As you know, that’s French for mother. I’d never had someone laugh at me because they took delight in how formal I sound. I remember you used the word antiquated instead. Maman and papa both expect it of me, but everyone else laughed as if there was something wrong with me.
The fact a Muggle didn’t think that wrong, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Technically, I’m a Black so I’m not allowed to do either. I can’t escape the fact maman would absolutely kill me if she found out I spent the night with a Muggle girl. Hence why I must burn this letter or hide it.
In case you’re wondering, which you won’t be as you’ll never get this letter, papa will simply give me the silent treatment.
Why is there nothing in life I don’t regret? Why can’t I do anything right? Goodness knows I already talked to you at great length on this subject, of how nothing I do seems to please anybody – not maman, not papa, not Siri. I feel empty inside. You already know that though. I’m not allowed to say how I feel, and I go and tell a random Muggle girl I randomly meet one night exactly how I feel.
That makes me an idiot, right?
Siri would most definitely say I am. Of course, Siri always said that. I hate saying that he was right.
I told you about that as well. I told you how I keep being told that I’m superior to everyone, yet I feel I’m inferior to everything. After all, I can’t get anything right. I regret everything in my life. Except, I don’t regret that night. While I didn’t feel superior that night, I didn’t feel inferior either. Maman would die knowing that, but she’ll never know as she’ll never see this letter, nor will you.
Of course, this begs to question why I’m even writing the letter in the first place. I discussed with you that night my personal misgivings regarding the person we call The Dark Lord. I wish to inform you that my personal misgivings have been confirmed even though you’ll never end up being informed.
More specifically, I am taking actions that mean I have to say goodbye, though you’ll never receive this goodbye. I think it best not to drag you into this mess I’ve made for myself. I just wanted to say goodbye to someone. I also wanted to put into words the fact I will not regret my most recent actions, not that anyone will know this.
So, goodbye.
Sincerely,
R.A.B.
…
A pair of silver-grey eyes stared at the letter, unsure of what they should do. After all, if…
The door to Regulus’ bedroom opened up, making him nearly jump out of his skin. The young wizard turned, swallowing at the sight of the one person he didn’t want to at that moment see. He quickly slid the letter under one of his old schoolbooks. “Maman?”
“You’ve not been acting like yourself dear, so I decided to come and check in on you.”
“You could have knocked,” Regulus swallowed.
“Why?”
“I could have been changing.”
“At this hour? Wouldn’t that prove you’re not feeling well?”
“That’s not the point!” He felt a slight blush spreading across his cheeks, only to remember what he’d gotten up to with the Muggle girl at New Years that would most certainly send his mother into a tizzy if she only knew. At the very least he hadn’t felt so small and awkward in front of said girl.
“I gave birth to you Regulus Arcturus Black which means I’ve seen you naked before.”
Scratch that. He didn’t at all feel embarrassed about his small, child-like stature in front of the Muggle girl. Somehow, Walburga always found a way to remind him how small he was, let alone make him feel like such a child. “Bloody hell! I’m seventeen for crying out loud! I’ll be eighteen this summer!”
“Language,” Walburga clicked her tongue in that manner she did whenever she felt Regulus start to step out of line. He glanced away, noting in the back of his head how she simply clicked her tongue at him rather than yell at him like she did Sirius. If she’d ever yelled at him, he didn’t remember. He wasn’t, after all, the one they really wanted. “I don’t see why you’re making a big fuss about me seeing you naked unless you’ve done something you don’t want me to see.”
Without thinking he tugged at his left sleeve.
“Other than that,” she said in so much disdain, making him feel as if he’d not become the Death Eater she wanted. Of course, he hadn’t, but the way she said the word which made him feel as if she knew full well what he’d not become.
“It’s…” Regulus let out a sigh, glancing away, his cheeks still flushing. “I’m not sure that this is an appropriate topic to discuss with my mother. I’d have thought father would have been the one.”
He didn’t hear her speak, but the fact she didn’t move from the spot made him worry she might be onto him, know that he’d been intimate with a Muggle girl. It was right at that moment he felt her delicate fingers wrap around his chin, turning his head so he might look her in the eye. Her lips pushed together, her silver-grey eyes looking into his own, yet not an exact mirror as his eyes had always been slightly different. “Are you telling me that my youngest has finally taken an interest in the fairer sex?”
“Maman!” Regulus took a deep breath, his face flushing red.
“Is there a particular girl that interests you?”
He couldn’t tell her he’d taken an interest in a Muggle girl. Regulus let his breath suck in even deeper, wanting the torture to end, particularly since he was himself unsure what kind of interest he’d taken in the girl. “I’m supposed to answer that?”
“Of course, you are. How are your father and I supposed to start the arrangements if you don’t tell us who she is?”
“As if there is a suitable match!” He wished that he could take the words back as soon as he said them, but he turned around in his chair so that he didn’t have to look her in the eye, glad she’d let go of his chin as soon as he’d uttered them. The feeling he wasn’t worthy of anybody his parents desired… “I’m sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry. I’d actually not thought about how there aren’t any suitable matches your age here in the United Kingdom. They’re either not of pure enough blood, look like their mother sat on them…”
“Maman! That’s just cruel!”
“Alright, so maybe they’re not that ugly, but I can’t outright ignore the fact those of pure enough blood are either too ugly for my liking or they’re outright insane. As such, I must apologize for not thinking that far ahead.”
Regulus swallowed. “Are you telling me that you were too busy trying to mold…”
He couldn’t say it, the name of that person lest it set her off. “Yes. I wasted too much time on that filth when I should have been focused on you.” She reached out, grabbing onto his chin and turning his head. “No wonder you’ve not been acting like yourself, my dear.” Her tongue clucked, her eyes continuing to look at him in that patronizing way he hated, almost as if he were a prized dog. “Don’t worry. Your father and I will look into our connections in France and United States, but we will find you a suitable match. I promise we will.”
“So, I can do my duty as the Black family heir?” The words never once sounded right on his tongue, not once since the day Sirius ran away.
“Yes. Yes, of course, my sweet Regulus. You will make your father and me proud. Now, don’t stay up too late studying. I know you’ve your NEWTs this year, but you need a good night's sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She left then, the door clicking behind her. Regulus let out a sigh. “In a normal Wizarding family the parent would have concluded their child was anxious about studying for their upcoming NEWTs. Mine are worried about me killing people to make a madman happy but breeding me as if I’m some kind of pureblood animal.” He pulled the letter out of hiding. “Well, I certainly won’t have to worry about any of that tomorrow morning, though I do feel bad for doing this to them.”
“Am I though?” A voice said in the back of his head.
“What other options do I have? If the Dark Lord is allowed to win, everyone loses out, including them.” His eyes focused on the letter to Oliva, still unsure of how he felt given that it was one single night that they’d ever interacted with each other, yet he couldn’t deny he felt comfortable around the Muggle girl, like an actual person. Deciding what to do with the letter, Regulus folded it carefully, slipping it into the breast pocket of the clothes his mother picked out for him, fully planning on taking it with him.