Chapter Text

Epilogue

Somewhere along the west coast of Scotland stood a house, made up of cobblestone that looked like it had been placed over 500 years prior. The house had no windows and the roof was made up out of a patchy thatch of hay, something that couldn’t survive the never ending Scottish rain. It seemed in every way unwelcoming to the few people who could see it, eerie even maybe, as if it came straight out of a horror movie. Though, only the most advanced wizard and witches could even come close to breaking through the protective spells cast over the area. Even if they did, the house would seem completely empty from the outside.

From the inside the house didn’t seem any more home-y. Sure, there was a fireplace, some candles for light and even some plants for potions, but there was something about the brick walls and constant sound of wind and rain that made the place feel dead. In the middle of the room stood a table, almost empty aside from two cups. Next to the fireplace stood two wooden chairs and a stool, surrounding the warm spot as if boy scouts had been telling each other creepy stories around it.

Even though they weren’t boy scouts, Evan still thought the conversation they were having by the fireplace the night prior was something of a thriller itself. Evan Rosier, Slyhterin, death eater,
one of lord Voldermorts most trusted followers, had as of a few weeks been in a situation he’d never expected to find himself in. If you asked anyone at Hogwarts, Evan Rosier would be described as charming, loyal, and often playing around the gray area of people’s norms and values. He was smart, but never stood out with his grades, not when he had his sister by his side, who was by far the brightest witch in their year.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours, Rosier?” A voice, low and smooth, pierced through the silence.

Evan snapped his neck around, immediately pulling out his wand as he pointed it at the person who had just entered the room. This person was dripping, wet from the rain and had clearly just been outside for a long time. Evan knew who this was by looking at him, but just because this man had the appearance of Regulus Black didn’t mean that it was actually him.

He kept his wand pointed, steady, as he took a step closer. “What’s your mother’s full name?” He asked, suspicion in his eyes and tone, he looked terrifying.

“Walburga Irma Black.” The man replied, before walking past Evan and sitting down on one of the chairs facing the fireplace. “Throw me a drying spell will you? I’m freezing.”

Evan nodded, casting the spell and pouring the other a cup of water, heating it up with his wand as well. He sat down next to the other and handed him the cup, which earned him a small nod of gratitude.

“So.” Evan started. “Did you…?”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Regulus knew what he meant. “I did.” He replied, tone neutral as it always was. “Could you fetch Crouch for this?”

“It’s that big?” Evan asked, but got up anyway without waiting on a reply. He knew Regulus, he knew that it was serious if they all had to be there for it.

He made his way over to the bedroom. It was a small room, a bit smaller than the living room and there were three mattresses on the floor, each in its own corner. They were covered by thin sheets, way too thin to make it through the night without shivering awake every few hours.

They took turns sleeping. The protective spells may have been strong, but so were some of the wizards and witches looking for them. Someone had to be awake at all times. Evan felt a bit bad for waking up his friend, who had only slept about an hour before.

“Barty.” Evan whispered, keeping a safe distance. “Barty, wake up.”

He didn’t wake up, he only mumbled a sound. If Evan were an enemy, Barty would be dead.

“Crouch.” The blonde tried again, louder this time, but still without success. He rolled his eyes, typical. After a few more tries, he had finally succeeded and Barty was following him to the living room.

Regulus looked away from the fireplace for the first time since he’d arrived back at the safe house. “Took you long enough.” He said, eyebrows raised slightly. “You’re going to die in this house if you don’t turn on your fight or flight instincts.”

“They’re called instincts for a reason, Black, now spill it and shut it.” Barty replied, clearly annoyed.

They sat down, all facing Regulus who had gone back to staring at the fireplace. “I found it.” He said once they settled down.

Barty and Evan looked at each other, a mix of emotions on both their faces. Relief, fear and panic. “You did?”

Regulus nodded. He too didn’t seem too thrilled about it. “It’s in a cave, on the Irish north-coast.” Regulus went on. “I will get it tomorrow at noon. Evan, it’s your turn to sleep then, Barty will be on the lookout.”

Evan frowned. “What?” He asked. “No, no no no. We’re all going. That’s what we signed up for when we left, remember?”

“It’s too dangerous.” Regulus said. “Kreacher almost died trying to enter the cave, I’m not risking it when this is only our first one.”

“We’re not even sure if there’s more than one.” Evan said, still a little taken aback by Regulus suggesting he should do it alone. “Maybe we’re in luck for once.”

Barty scoffed, eyes also locked on the fireplace. “As if.” He said, shortly.

“Well, that’s not usually how it goes, is it Evan?” Regulus said. There was a hint of emotion behind his usually lifeless gaze, though his voice never trembled. “Just stay here tomorrow. I can do it myself.”

“You can’t.” Barty replied, making Regulus snap his head towards him with narrowed eyes. “You know the dark lord, you know his ways, his power, what he’s capable of. That cave is probably filled with traps and curses to kill you. You need someone to come with you.”

Regulus shook his head. “I will do it.” He said. “You two did enough just by being here.”

Evan let out a small laugh. “We’re not your trophy wives, Black.” He said. “And we’re all going. End of discussion. Now go to sleep you two, it’s still my turn to be on watch.”

Without a lot of complaining, but a very annoyed stare, the two of them went over to the bedroom. Evan stayed seated at the fireplace, thinking about the things that lead them to this moment.

It was crazy to think only a month ago they had been in the dark lord’s mansion, plotting the murder of a bunch of muggles. Now they were figuring out how to end it, the violence, the constant fear of what may happen. They weren’t away from fear in the least, not at all. Not yet, anyway. They had to overcome a much bigger challenge than being minions to the dark lord.

When they found out it were horcruxes which were keeping him alive, they felt doomed. They didn’t know what to expect, only that they were objects containing the infused souls of people who were murdered and the one who murdered them. It took them three months to find out, yet they were terrified instead of relieved after finding out.

Undercover as death eaters, they had been spying on the dark lord’s meeting, hoping to get a clue out of it, a clue to where the horcruxes could be. It never happened, the dark lord was smarter than that. Little did he know, they had Regulus. Regulus Black turned out to be somewhat of a search dog when it came to dark magic, he felt its presence, it came to him in his dreams.

This was how they found out a horcrux was hidden in a cave. The problem was, they did not know which cave. Not until Regulus had been woken up by a drenched house elf, only a few hours prior to him coming back soaked like a puppy. The house elf had been hysterical, hitting itself with its fists and crying over and over again how he was defying his master and how he should be punished for it. Regulus hadn’t said much before he apparated away with the house elf, leaving Evan completely clueless. Though, he quickly figured where the house elf was taking him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Regulus

Regulus had never doubted himself when it came to joining the death eaters. He knew where his purpose lay, and he knew what path would lead him to being a good heir to the family. Family. His loving and adoring family. His mother, who under no circumstances would ever let him take a single step out of line, without being punished. She wasn’t a death eater, nor did she pressure Regulus to become one. His father, however, never failed to let him know what would happen if he didn’t become a death eater. He told his son, if he didn’t join the dark lord and followed his ways, he would by default be one of them. A blood-traitor.

Then there was his brother. Merlin, did Regulus miss his brother. Under no circumstances would he ever admit this, not even a whole vial of veritaserum could make him. Sirius had gone a different way, Regulus admired him for this. He was never angry with Sirius for leaving, even when he wanted to be. ‘Cause he couldn’t blame him. Sirius had a reason to leave. Being sorted into Gryffindor and befriending a bunch of muggle borns, blood traitors and half beasts was not something their parents took lightly. Naturally, they saw it as a personal attack. And with that came a lot of abuse, verbal and physical. It wasn’t as if Regulus had never experienced it, but they always went further with Sirius.

Regulus joined the death eaters when he was sixteen years old, making him the youngest to do so. He was safe to say one of the dark lord’s most trusted followers, and was treated as such. Not once had Regulus told the dark lord no, or backed down from a challenge. It ‘wasn't how he was raised’, he would always say. The dark lord adored him, and Regulus could tell. He could always tell exactly what others thought of him. All the while no one could ever figure what Regulus thought of them. It was a fun game to him, really.

He had been a death eater for half a year when Barty and Evan joined him. They wanted to finish school first. Regulus never did, nor did he feel like he needed to. Barty and Evan were- different. They were never as close to the dark lord as he was, which was definitely thanks to their lack of trying. The two of them were more, as Regulus always liked to think, free. They did whatever they wanted and never got punished by anyone. It wasn’t as if they ever talked about their personal lives while at school, so Regulus didn’t know for sure. They just seemed so much more alive.

This was one of the reasons Regulus hated the fact they joined him in his mission. Not because he didn’t want them around, or because he found it annoying. Nothing like that. He just- he watched them lose this spark. That spark of being alive and kicking it. He had to watch it everyday. The guilt it gave him was unbearable.

His mission, Regulus’ mission, their mission. Finding the things that were keeping the dark lord alive. Finding horcruxes. Regulus did join the death eaters thinking he was doing the right thing for his family, for himself and for everyone else. Initially, he joined the Death Eaters out of genuine belief in Voldemort's vision for the wizarding world. He saw Voldemort as a powerful figure who promised to purge the world of Muggles and elevate pure-bloods to their rightful place. It was how he was raised, this way of thinking. He didn’t know any better. Over time, however, as he became more exposed to Voldemort's methods and the true nature of the Dark Lord's ambitions, he became disillusioned and repelled by the violence, cruelty, and disregard for innocent lives, which ultimately led him to leave.

The thing was, you couldn’t just leave the death eaters. It wasn’t a music group or a sports team. Being a death eater meant making a lifelong commitment. Regulus knew the consequences of leaving, which was why he took the matter into his own hands. If he could end the dark lord, he could be free. Evan and Barty were somewhat similar in the thought, and the progress, though they were forced into becoming death eaters. At first, they weren’t even supposed to find out what Regulus was doing. He was supposed to fake his own death, making it seem as if he had just disappeared. But, Regulus had to try something before he left. He had to know if the dark lord had a plan B. One fateful night in august, Regulus poisoned the dark lord. He put a draught of living death potion into his cup, unnoticed. He did not die, of course. He merely coughed a bit as he drank it. And Regulus knew the potion worked, he was a master of potions.

After finding out the dark lord was indeed untouchable, he spent weeks trying to figure out his methods. Evan and Barty found out Regulus was up to something one a few days after he found out.

“Alright Black, what’s up your sleeve?” Barty had asked, late at night as the three of them were sitting at the fireplace of Grimmauld place, his childhood home.

Regulus hadn’t even looked up from the book on his lap as he answered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been pacing at night.” Evan said, his voice softer than barty’s. It always was softer than Barty’s, never as intrusive. “You’ve been reading things you’d never be interested in before. You’re watching over your shoulder as if you’re being hunted. We’re not blind, we notice things. I do, at least.”

Barty smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Speak for yourself, Rosier. I’ve known he was up to something for weeks.” He said, then his smirk faded. “The question is: why does it feel like whatever you’re up to could get all of us killed?”

Regulus snapped the book shut and stood up, facing his two friends with a serious look on his face. “If you knew, you’d only be in more danger.” He said evenly, though his voice wavered just enough to betray the weight of his words.

“Too late for that.” Evan said, locking eyes with him. “Just breathing puts us in danger, do you honestly think we care about our safety?”

Now, Regulus could’ve lied. He could’ve pushed them away, told them it was about Sirius or his mother, or just walked away from the conversation. Regulus knew these people, they would never let it go, nor believe any of the lies he would have told them.

He’d sighed before concealing the room under a silencing spell. “I’m going to kill him.” He’d said.

After they heard him out, they knew they couldn’t go back. They had to come with, or die. The chance the dark lord would find out if three people knew was way too likely. Not that they’d ever seemed to doubt joining Regulus in his mission.

They made a plan to stay right where they were as death eaters and hear out the next few meetings, hoping the dark lord would mention one of the places. He did not, of course. The dark lord would never be that careless. After three weeks, they left. They faked their own deaths, as far as they could, and then they disappeared.

Regulus’ “body” was found first. They found it right where he’d put it, his wand, next to a single bone somewhere in the outskirts of magical London. That says enough on how long it took to find, as the bone had been part of an arm when he left it. He did not kill the person whose arm he used, he was already murdered by voldemort during a meeting, right on the table. Regulus knew that if he left his wand, they wouldn’t investigate any further, they would know it was him.

Then they faked Barty’s death. He died alone, in the forest, doing what people always assumed he loved most: hunting people down and killing them. This was the image he had set for himself, which was kind of accurate actually. They were yet to find his wand, as the dark hedges of northern Ireland were not a place people in war usually visited. Barty Crouch Jr was missing, and yet to be found, as the list had said.

Evan didn’t need to fake his death. He ran into a bunch of Aurors while searching for clues in and around the grounds of Hogwarts. He struck Alastor Moody in a fight, blinding him in one eye and knocking him unconscious for minutes. Evan, being as smart and strategic as he always was, managed to implant a memory of Moody killing him into his brain as he lay unconscious.

Neither of them had expected the feeling of freedom, going side by side with the feeling of being trapped their fake deaths would bring. They couldn’t show themselves, only went out in their death-eater cloaks and masks. On the other hand, they had no one to answer to. No one followed their every move, as not a single person knew where they were. It was suffocating yet liberating.

Aside from Kreacher, it wasn’t possible anyone knew where they were. Kreacher had found out for himself. He was looking for his master, he had to find his master. After Regulus’ father died and his mother turned to bad health, he was the last heir to their name. Kreacher was bound as his house elf, and could respond only to him. Being integrated in a family filled with dark magic and gruesome history, the elf just did as he was told. Even though Kreacher didn’t know the things he was looking for would end the dark lord’s reign, he complied.

The cave where they found out the first horcrux could be, would be a challenge to reach, let alone enter and conquer. Regulus didn’t want Evan and Barty to come with him. Not only because he didn’t want them to die, but also because he found he worked better alone. That’s how he always worked, and he believed it was the best way.

Yet there they were, standing on the edge of a very specific cliff, watching over the rough ocean. A single cave in front of them, seeming anything but inviting.

Barty turned to the other’s, trying to seem collected. “I mean, at least it’s better than the dark lord’s dungeon?”

“I highly doubt that.” Regulus replied coolly before taking their arms and disappariting into the dark.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: The Locket

The sea crashed against the walls of the cave as they made their way through a narrow tunnel. The sound of the waves violently crashing almost made it sound as if the ocean was crying, warning them not to go in there. None of them wanted to, but there was no wanting anything when it came to the mission, there was only need, and they needed to find this horcrux.

Regulus led the way, the only light being the small blue dot coming out the tip of his wand, which he had won by disarming a death eater a few days after he said goodbye to his own, Barty had too. Only Evan had his own wand. Not like it helped, they couldn’t even see the ground if they wanted to. Once every few feet, one of them stepped on something which made an eerie creaking sound. They all just hoped those weren’t bones.

“This place feels like death.” Evan muttered, his voice low and almost inaudible due to the loud sound of the waves.

“Good.” Barty replied, a cheeky smirk on his face. “Fits right in with the rest of our lives.”

“Shut it, both of you.” Regulus snapped, his tone sharper than usual. His focus laid entirely on his surroundings, his head going in every direction he could hear a sound. They had gone quite deep into the cave already, yet there hadn’t been any boobytraps, curses or obstacles. He hated that, he’d have preferred some clear signs of danger around him. It felt impossible to believe they could get through this without having to fight something, or someone.

There was dark magic all around them, they could feel it faintly pushing through the air, slowly getting heavier as they moved forward. Once they found their way out of the narrow tunnel, they were met with a huge open space. Almost as if it had been carved out exactly to serve the purpose of hiding something.

“Lumos maxima.” Regulus said, his voice echoing through the void and bouncing back from the walls of the cave. A bright light show from the tip of his wand, making its way through the cave and lighting up what seemed to be a small island in the middle of a big lake. The lake was quiet, it was all quiet. It didn’t make sense, not when the sea outside was still clashing at the side.

Evan pointed at the side of the lake where a single, wooden row boat laid. “I think we’re supposed to use that.” He noted, tone flat.

“Convenient.” Barty remarked, though the grip on his wand was starting to turn his knuckles white.

“It’s not.” Regulus replied, stepping forward towards the boat, examining it. “Nothing about this is.”

All three of them climbed into the boat, which was clearly not meant to fit three people. They sat uncomfortably close to each other, all as tense as they could be.

“How do we move?” Barty asked, looking around. “There’s no-”

Right then, the boat started to move, making its way to the island on its own. That couldn’t be good, it would be too easy. Even someone without the power of the dark lord wouldn’t make it that easy for their enemies.

“This doesn’t feel right.” Evan noted. “I feel like there’s something surrounding us.”

Regulus pressed his lips into a thin line, turning to the water as he held his wand a few inches above it. He scanned the water for any movement, noticing pale shapes floating just away from his reach. Corpses. His eyes turned to somewhat of a panic as he cursed out under his breath. “Inferi.”

“Fuck, shit.” Barty cursed, moving around in the boat.

Evan grabbed his shoulders, pressing him tightly into place. “Stop it, Crouch, they will only come for you if you touch the water.”

Barty let out a breath of relief, returning to his usual cocky demeanor. “That’s good, wasn’t really fancying a swim anyways.”

The boat came to a halt with a backlash, letting them know they had arrived at the small island. It was just a big, slippery stone with a basin on it. Regulus stepped out the boat first, then Evan and then Barty. They watched as Regulus slowly and carefully made his way over to the basin.

On the bottom of the basin lay a locket, clearly in sight and heavily radiating a kind of dark magic they had never felt before. The locket was drowned in a greenish liquid.

“So… do we just grab it?” Barty asked, reaching out his hand. Regulus smacked his fingers away, making the other hiss.

“No.” He said sharply, eyes darkening. “We drink it, the potion.”

Evan’s jaw tightened. “What happens to the person who drinks it?” He asked, not sure if he really wanted the answer.

“It’s Drink of Despair.” Regulus replied. “It won’t kill you.”

“Though it will make you wish it did.” Evan finished, realising he’d read about it.

Barty let out a laugh which contained no trace of humor. “Sounds lovely.” He said. “I’ll do it.”

Regulus shook his head. “You will not.” He said, looking up from the basin and into his eyes. “Once it’s empty, the inferi will come for us. You have to grab the locket and move, yes?”

“Hold on, why should you do it?” Barty complained, frowning at the man in front of him.

Regulus watched him carefully. “Because I took you here. Just- just do as I said.” He was terrified, though his flat demeanor still remained. Regulus never stumbled over his words. He was always calm, cool and collected.

“Don’t die on us, Black.” Evan said as he got ready to fight any inferi that dared to come on land.

“Can’t make any promises.” Regulus replied with a soft smile, it didn’t reach his eyes.
He raised the scoop shaped shell up from the side of the basin, raising it up to his lips and pouring in the green liquid. It tasted like death, and it felt like fire in his mouth. The worst part came after he swallowed it. He felt like he was burning from the inside, as if molten lava was flowing through his veins.

There was no going back, he had to finish it. He dipped the shell back in, trying to steady himself by gripping the side of the basin with his free hand. The second sip was way worse, he fell down to the ground as his vision went dark, completely black. He could hear Evan cursing from a few feet away, though it sounded as if he was on the other side of the cave.

“Crouch, feed it to him, there’s inferi coming.” Evan yelled as he started throwing curses around, stunning and stopping inferi from coming onto land.

Barty turned from Evan to Regulus and then back in a panic. “What? I don’t want to hurt him!” He yelled back.

Evan let out a loud groan as he stepped on the head of inferi, making it drop off the island, “Really? Now you turn soft?!”

Barty cursed out, dropping next to Regulus and pulling the shell out of his grip, filling it up with the remaining part of the liquid. “Shit, I’m sorry Reg.” He croaked as he poured it down his throat.

Regulus swallowed it, crying out a scream after as images flashed before his eyes—his parents, cold and unyielding; Sirius, walking away and never looking back; James, laughing in the sunlight, his hand brushing against Regulus’s in the smallest, most fleeting of touches.

“Regulus!” Evan yelled out, rushing over to the two on the ground.

“Go.” Regulus croaked, looking up at the other’s through blurry vision. “Get out of here.”

“We’re not leaving without you, Black.” Barty said firmly, pulling him up. “Evan, locket?”

“Got it, get in the boat.” Evan ordered, turning his back to them and striking the inferi with more curses.

Curses weren’t enough, they were coming to close, they would never be out of reach in time.

“Oh Merlin, Barty?!” Evan yelled, taking steps back to keep the inferi from taking his feet and dragging him into the water.

Barty quickly turned, Regulus swaying by his side as he saw Evan, inches away from becoming fish-food. “Rosier, get over here!” He yelled, “Incendio!.”

Large flames shot from the tip of his wand, flying past Evan and right into the row of inferi grabbing him at his feet. He took his chance and ran towards the boat, helping Barty support Regulus as they dropped themselves down onto the wood, watching the inferi’s hands reach for them from beneath the surface of the water as the boat slowly drifted back to shore.

Regulus slumped against Evan, his breathing shallow and uneven. “Did we get it?” He asked, weakly.

“We did.” Evan replied, letting out a sigh of relief as he let the weight of the whole thing settle down on him. He held up the locket in front of them. “We got it.”

Regulus let out a weak laugh, letting his head fall on Evan’s shoulder. They survived, they did it- together.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Evan

Evan grew up in a loving home. He had two loving parents and the sweetest sister he could wish for. There was always room in their house to talk, to share feelings, to be themselves. He was brought up thinking of people as equal, no matter their blood status or beliefs. The Rosier name was found in the sacred twenty-eight by coincidence rather than conviction. Pureblood beliefs had been out of their family for years.

When Evan’s mother died, he was only ten years old, the year before he and his sister Pandora started school. Their father took it harder than anyone and fell into a deep hole of darkness he couldn’t seem to climb out of, not even to take care of his children. After his grief came anger, which he couldn't get out on anyone except for the two other people living in his house.

In only a year, Evan turned from an open-minded, cheerful kid to a person who couldn’t even open their mouth when someone asked them a question. He found that being quiet was the best way to deal with his father’s anger issues. Pandora took it a bit differently. She felt like she had to become the woman of the house, as if she had to fulfill the duties her mother used to do.

Pandora became a woman before she started at Hogwarts. She was always busy, doing laundry, cooking dinner, consoling her brother when their father had another fit. Evan wasn’t allowed to help her, she would get mad if he tried.

During their years at school, they only went home for the summer. The other holidays were spent staying at Hogwarts, putting off the moment they had to face their father again. Evan wished he’d spent more time with his father before he died. Looking back at the situation, he couldn’t really blame him. He did lose the love of his life.

Evan became an orphan at sixteen. The letter arrived at Dumbledore’s office, to which he and Pandora were quickly brought. His sister had collapsed, sunken to the floor erupting in a loud cry. Evan? He didn’t feel it. He never understood why, because he wanted to. He wanted to be destroyed by it, to be hurt to a point where he would cry in his bed for days.

He never told his friends. They never talked about their lives at home, it would be weird to start after they knew each other for five years. For all they knew, his parents were both alive. Or they figured it out some other way. Pandora did talk about it, he knew that, he admired that. How she could be so transparent about it.

That summer, they spent time at their aunt's house. Druella Rosier. A condescending woman with a deep-seated hatred for children. Ironic, as she herself had three daughters. Bellatrix, Narcissa and Andromeda. She’d lost her husband, Cygnus Black, to the war. He was one of the first death eaters and one of the first to die.

Pandora spent a lot of time with Andromeda, she was her favorite. Evan never felt any attachment to his cousins, he didn’t know how to talk to them. All Bellatrix and Narcissa ever talked about was getting married or other girly things. Evan couldn’t care less. Things turned south when Andromeda ran away from home and became the third Black in only four years to be named a ‘blood-traitor’. Evan didn’t believe in it, blood-traitors, he was raised better than that.

She was disowned after she married a muggle, Ted Tonks, and had a child with him. Turned out she was already pregnant at the start of the summer.

Luckily, school started right after that. He was about to enter his sixth year, only two more to go before he could go out in the world and live on his own, or together with his sister if she wished to. He’d already planned it, they would live somewhere far away, towards northern England, away from their horrible family and bad memories.

But, an opportunity presented itself. The opportunity to be safe from the war, forever. To be on the winning side, and never have to look back at the violence destroying their world. A promise of hope, to regain control in a chaotic world. Evan could’ve really used some hope back then, so he took it. He never read the fine lines, though. He never knew the commitment he was making, or what Voldemort really stood for.

The dark lord had presented himself as someone who wanted nothing but the best for his followers. It was all a lie. When he joined the death eaters, he was already too late. Pandora cut him out of her life when he did, just as she had done with Regulus and Barty. They were their shared friends, now only Evan’s, and Evan’s only.

Evan tried to make the best of it. To go on missions with the others, act like everything was fine and as if he made this decision on purpose. Evan was good at it, at acting. He’d been acting fine for years, no one even knew it was an act. Pandora, maybe, but she was gone anyways.

The day Regulus announced he was going to kill the dark lord was the first day in ages he felt alive. He finally had something to fight for, something to hold on to, a purpose.

Evan was an excellent fighter. He’d been practicing duelling in the room of requirement during his last two years, sneaking off whenever he got the chance and teaching himself any curses and jinxed that seemed useful. His friends never knew this either. Regulus left at the end of sixth year, right after he turned sixteen. Barty was just unaware. Then again, none of them were talkers.

He never worried about having to overcome the dangerous things, until he’d found himself in front of the cave. Regulus had gone over the plan multiple times, along with the possible dangers and challenges they might’ve had to overcome. Evan didn’t listen to any of it, he’d gone blank. Suddenly, it felt like there was more depending on them finding these horcruxes than the three of them, it felt like he was doing this for everyone. For his mother, even though she wasn’t there anymore. For his sister, who he hadn’t thought about in weeks. For any wizard, witch or muggle just trying to life their lives. The pressure was about to get to him when Regulus had grabbed his arm and appareated them to the cave.

And he did it- they did it. They had the first horcrux. Even though the feeling of the inferi gripping his feet with their boney wet finger kept him up at night days later, they had a horcrux. A part of the dark lord’s soul.

The only problem was that they had no idea how to get rid of it, if they could already get rid of it and how many more there were left.

“I say we just chuck some curses on it- see what sticks.” Barty suggested, swirling his wand back and forth with a kind of reckless glint in his eyes.

Evan looked up at him through his eyelashes. He looked tired- he was tired, they’d been at this for days, making decisions and planning their next move. “See what sticks? Crouch, we’re dealing with fragments of someone’s soul. One wrong move and who know what-”

“Enough.” Regulus interrupted, voice quiet but firm and enough to silence the others immediately. He was in his usual spot by the fire, his features illuminated by the glow. He looked so much older than he was supposed to. “Evan’s right, we can’t afford to act blindly. We need to do research first. “

“Well we can’t just stroll into Flourish and Blotts, can we now?” Barty argued. “We’re supposed to be dead.”

Evan groaned. “Why didn’t we research this beforehand?” He complained, leaning back in his seat.

“What if we used a polyjuice potion?” Barty said as he sat down on the stool next to the fireplace. “That would give us enough time, right? At least a couple of hours.”

Regulus shook his head, eyes locked on the fire, thinking. “That’ll never work.” He replied. “We need more than a couple of hours to do research. It could take days, weeks even. Even my polyjuice potions don’t last longer than a few hours.”

“And whose hairs would you take?” Evan added, turning to Barty who shrugged, disappointed but unwilling to argue further.

They all fell quiet, staring at the walls, fireplace and floor, deep in thought. Then Regulus sighed, a sigh slightly different from usual, as if it contained a bit of emotion.

“I have one idea that might work.” He said, his voice low and careful, as though saying the words might solidify some unspoken dread.

Evan straightened up in his chair, exchanging a glance with Barty. “Well?” He asked.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: The Research

“How long does this concealment charm last?” Evan whispered as they made their way through the dimly lit streets of London at night.

“Not much longer, we have to hurry.” Regulus responded, eyes fixed in front of him, scanning for any sign of trouble. The tension in his voice was unmistakable.

Evan’s heart pounded in his chest, almost loud enough for the people in the streets to hear. He looked to his side where he couldn’t see but he knew Barty was walking, feeling exactly the same way. His pace quickened, as did the others’, they couldn’t be back at their safe house fast enough.

Barty had a tight grip on his wand, turning his knuckles white underneath his cloak. “This is mad,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low but sharp. “Breaking into their safe house? What if they catch us?”

“They won't.” Regulus replied coldly, seemingly as collected as always. “Not if you shut up for once and follow the plan.”

“What plan? We did not make a plan?!” Barty hissed, his tone indicating he was clearly freaking out.

Evan wasn’t sure whether it was Regulus’ sheer confidence or the fact that he’d been fighting off inferi only a few days prior, but something kept him grounded. He didn’t worry about their plan, or the lack of it, only the end result.

He could feel Barty slowly going mad at his side, his steps as uneven as his breathing as he kept muttering softly.

“We’re here.” Regulus said, coming to a halt. He pulled his wand from underneath his cloak, his movements calm and precise. “I’ll take care of the wards, stay on the lookout and don’t get any closer.”

Evan and Barty nodded, sharing a look with each other as the concealment charm was starting to wear off. The minutes might as well have been hours as Regulus used his wand to trace around the air, carefully shaping patterns. Finally, there was a soft, low rumble.

“Inside, quickly.” Regulus ordered, pacing over to the door and unlocking it with his wand. The safe house seemed just the same as any other, but Regulus knew it was the right one. He’d been there, years before.

The air inside was heavy with silence, only broken by the sound of their footsteps on the wooden floors. The dim glow of magical lanterns were the only source of light, casting their long drawn shadows along the wall.

“There’s no one here.” Evan pointed out, not sure as though it was a relief or something he should worry about.

“Can’t ever be too sure of that.” Barty said, his wand in front of him, holding it like a sword ready for battle. He was tense, most tense of them all.

“Split up.” Regulus whispered. “We might not have much time.”

Evan nodded, heading towards the kitchen as Barty and Regulus moved into different rooms. Carefully, he went through the drawers and cabinets, the light casting from his wand just bright enough to see what was in them.

He could hear Barty muttering curses under his breath a couple of rooms away.

“Anything?” Evan whispered as he joined him in what appeared to be a small sitting room.

“Not a damn thing.” Barty replied, frustrated. “Regulus better know what he’s doing, I’ll kill-“

A low whistle from an upstairs room interrupted Barty’s death threat, calling them to Regulus. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, knowing the thought the exact same before bolting upstairs.

Regulus was standing in a study covered in book cases which were filled with picture frames of random people. Clever, many enemies would be thrown off by this. It wasn't the pictures that interested them, though. What interested them was the silvery, shiny cloak safely tucked away in a drawer. The invisibility cloak.

“I can’t believe you were right.” Barty said, “how did you know?”

“Let’s move.” Regulus ignored his question, brushing past him and Evan.

The two of them shared another look, then Evan shrugged as they followed Regulus out of the room.

“How does it work?” Evan asked, filled with curiosity, examining the cloak in Regulus’ hands.

“It’s an invisibility cloak, how much clearer could the description be?” Regulus replied, his tone empty and dark.

Regulus had never been one to show a lot of emotions, or to break under pressure. That’s why the slightest change in his tone would often set off an alarm to his friends.

Just as Evan was about to ask Regulus what was up, they came to a halt. Because of a sound of a door opening, and then someone entering.

Regulus cursed under his breath, spinning around on his feet. He pushed the other’s into a corner, throwing the cloak over them and himself. “Don’t say a word.” He warned, as quiet as he could.

The footsteps came closer as the shadow of someone on the ground became a silhouette, and then they spoke.

“Honestly Sirius, your lack of trust in me is hurtful.” A man said, standing only a couple of feet away from them. If they wouldn’t have spoken, they would’ve been able to hear the uneven breathing of Barty who was almost having a panic attack.

Evan knew the voice, and who it belonged to. Potter.

“I trust you.” Another voice, Sirius’, spoke. “You’re just absolutely unorganized.”

James rolled his eyes, “I’m just whimsically untidy, I have a system.” He countered. “Let’s just grab them and go? I hate this place, it always feels like there’s someone hidden in the shadows.”

“Dramatic.” Sirius said, but still followed James upstairs, leaving behind the three men who were hidden in the corner.

The other’s glanced over at Regulus, watching him carefully and seeking a sign of emotion. That was his brother he just saw. Regulus never talked about his brother much, only when they specifically asked him questions and even then he’d been vague about it.

Regulus was staring ahead, his face expressionless. His eyes, though, revealed his true emotion. He looked sad and lost.

“Let’s move.” He said, his compelled tone still concealing his true feelings. He pulled the invisibility cloak off them, quickly folding it under his arm as he leaped towards the door.

The others followed closely, slipping out of the door trying not to make a sound. Once the were out, Barty put his hand on Regulus’ shoulder.

“Regulus-”

“Not. Now.” Regulus urged, tension crackling in the space between them.

---

After getting their hands on the invisibility cloak, the actual research didn’t feel like that much work. They found a way of doing the research that worked for all of them. Going out underneath the invisibility cloak with three people everytime felt like a plan set up to fail. One stumble and all three of them would be revealed.

So, they took turns going out. Two of them would go, to make sure they always had someone to watch their back in case it was needed. The third would stay in their safe house, reading the books they had managed to steal. In only ten days, they’d made themselves a small library of stolen books. Mostly from Flourish and Blotts, some from stores on Knockturn Alley. Those were the most dangerous, it always felt like the people on that street could sense their presence.

Even though they hadn’t found a way to take the horcruxes on yet, they were getting closer.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Progress

One night a couple weeks later came revelation.

Evan and Regulus were seated around the fireplace of the dimly lit safehouse, reading and occasionally sighing. Barty had been wearing a hole in the floor the whole time, biting his nails until he finally spoke.

“I know where to look.” He said, determined, a gleam in his eyes that was filled with euphoria.

The other two snapped their heads up at him with anticipation, “You do?”

Barty let out a laugh, almost as if he were as surprised by the revelation as the others were. “Yes.” He spoke, rushing over to the pile of books and grabbing one from the middle. It was a very specific one, one all three of them had already read and decided wasn’t going to help them any further.

“We’ve read that already, Crouch. There’s nothing useful in it.” Evan said, returning to reading his book. Regulus kept his eyes on Barty, waiting for whatever he thought he’d found.

Barty held up one finger, indicating they had to wait for him to finish. He quickly flicked through the book, searching for something. “The locket.” He said when he finally opened it on a specific page.

“What about it?” Regulus wondered, walking over to Barty who was crouched next to the pile of books.

He watched the page, trying to see what Barty had gotten this excited about. He failed to find it, turning his dark gaze to Barty’s. “This book isn’t helpful.”

“The dark lord is an heir to Slytherin.” Barty stated. This was new information to all of them, and it was intriguing enough for Evan to look up again and scoot over to them.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, reading the page. “This is just about ancient artefacts, there’s nothing about the dark lord or his family history in here.”

Barty pointed at a tiny description, handwritten in the corner of the page. “The locket is described here, it belonged to Salazar Slytherin.” He said, his tone cheerful.

“The Locket of Salazar Slytherin is a rare and priceless artifact, steeped in the dark legacy of one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Forged in ancient times, the locket is crafted from pure, gleaming gold and bears an intricate, serpentine design. At its center, an emerald-green jewel glistens, said to be enchanted to glow faintly in the presence of Parseltongue—a language known only to the descendants of Slytherin”

“So, that doesn’t necessarily have to be this locket?” Evan argued. “You’re not making any sense, how does this make the dark lord an heir to Slytherin?”

Regulus frowned. “Merlin, you’re right.” He said, watching Barty with an impressed gaze. “How did we not see this before?”

“I’m not following.” Evan said, lost.

“The dark lord, he speaks Parseltongue.” Barty said, “He’s always done it in private, when there weren’t many people around. I never knew what it was until we started reading all these books.”

“He uses it to talk to his snake.” Regulus filled in, eyes on Evan who was slowly starting to get it. “It’s his most treasured murder weapon, he’s told me himself. I just never linked it to Salazar Slytherin.”

Evan nodded, his lips falling open slightly. “O-kay, but Barty said he knew where to look.” He said. “What did you mean by that? Look for what?”

Regulus turned to Barty as well, he wasn’t sure what he was implying.

“The next horcrux.” Barty said, his focus back to the book, turning the pages as he scanned them. “It’s highly likely that he’s used more than one of his family’s possessions for these objects.”

“Unbelievable.” Evan said, a grin forming on his face as. “Out of us three, you’re the first one to find a clue.”

Barty rolled his eyes, shoving Evan with his free hand. “I’m not clueless, Rosier.” He said.

“That’s a shocker to me.” Evan teased.

---

A few days after the revelation, Evan and Barty were on a mission to collect more books on ancient artifacts. Since they were searching for artifacts belonging to the descendants of Salazar Slytherin, they had to go deep into Knockturn Alley.

It wasn’t any different from the other missions they had executed, it was almost a routine by then. Apparate as far as they could, check the surroundings while hidden under the invisibility cloak and then steal as many books as possible. Barty loved these missions, they made him feel alive. Evan on the other hand was always tense, knowing what was at stake for them. He’d expected his nerves to slowly become less, especially after staying calm while infiltrating the order’s safe house.

“Wait.” Barty whispered, coming to a halt as he put his finger up. “There’s someone here.”

“Of course there’s someone here Barty, it’s a well known street.” Evan replied, also in a whisper.

The street was crowded, as it always was. Aside from the fact they had to maneuver around everyone, it was the best time to go out on a mission. At least then they could talk without anyone really hearing them or paying attention to them.

Barty shook his head. “No, someone who shouldn’t be here.” He stated.

“How do you know?” Asked Evan, intrigued. He wasn’t sure if Barty was right but better to be safe than sorry.

“I don’t know, something doesn’t feel right.” Barty said, looking around him with narrowed eyes. Even though it was the middle of the day, it always felt like dawn in Knockturn Alley.

His eyes widened when he looked over Evan’s shoulder. “Shit, get in the alley.” He whispered, shoving Evan to the side as he himself stumbled behind. He kneeled down to the ground, turning his head to the confused blonde next to him.

“What-”

“Lupin is here.” Barty said, his voice shaky from adrenaline. “Which means there’s more of them. It’s never just one.”

Evan cursed, looking around the corner. “Do you think they’ll catch us, even underneath this thing?”

“You do realize this thing was theirs, right? I think they’ll see right through us.” Barty said.

Evan let out a sound, somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “What now? Apparate back?”

“We can’t, there’s an anti apparition jinx on Knockturn Alley.” Barty said.

Even though Evan already knew this, he still groaned at the news. “Why now, we’re so close to the next step.” He whispered, raking his hand through his greasy hair in frustration.

“Come on, Rosier. It’s not like we’re doomed, it’s just a minor setback.” Barty said. “We just need to distract them, so we can run toward Diagon Alley.”

The other man nodded, pulling his wand out from under his robe. “Alright then, cover your ears and be ready to run.” He said.

Barty frowned but did as he was told.

“Bombarda Maxima.”

A loud sound, followed by an eruption of stone and dust came over them after Evan had blown up a huge part of one of the stores on the street.

“Run!” He yelled, grabbing Barty’s arm and sprinting towards the more lit up part of magical London.

People were running around, screaming and coming over to look for the source of the explosion. They caught a small glimpse of Potter, who had joined Lupin and was frantically searching around for the one responsible.

They stumbled out of the alleyway, Evan still tightly gripping Barty’s arm before apparating away into thin air.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Barty

Barty had always felt different.

Different from other boys his age, for one thing. He never fit in with any of his house mates, just as he didn’t fit in with other people in his year. Barty blamed himself. He blamed himself for not putting in the effort to enjoy things others his age might.

It wasn’t just people his age he didn’t relate to, it was his family as well. His mother was such a sweet woman, though she never expressed any feelings. She was dying, very sick, not to be healed. She had been dying Barty’s whole childhood and still was, he had been prepared for the moment he’d lose her.

His father on the other hand was a firm man. He never let anything slide, or any mistakes get past him without a lecture or a beating. Barty hated his father. He’d spent full weeks alone in his room plotting his downfall, planning it, almost.

Regulus and Evan were his friends at school, sure. But he never felt understood by them. Barty always had a certain interest in the dark side. He found comfort in being alone, burning stuff and destroying things.

It’s why he joined the death-eaters. He told people his father forced him, because it was what everyone said and thought. Being an outcast in his own head meant Barty always tried to fit in more. He knew exactly how to appear like-able. It’s why other students often described him as charming. He was sarcastic in a funny way, though the jokes he made would often be categorized as morally grey.

In reality, he was just a bully.

The dark lord was supposed to give him what he always wanted. To be free, to do things people on the other side of the war were violently against. He wanted to fight, not wait around. He wanted to be in the middle of the battlefield, not at a round table making plans that would only set them one step forward and then three steps back.

Turned out the death-eaters weren’t any different from those people around the table. Only the people at the dark lord’s table were plotting the murder of innocent people, while the other side was getting ready for battle.

Barty didn’t regret his choice, though. Even just being around the dark lord gave him this rush of adrenaline he’s been looking for his whole life. It was a rush nothing, not even jumping off a mountain could bring, something entirely out of this earth.

He didn’t regret it, until Voldemort started to show characteristics he’s only seen in one other person: his father. That’s what made him want to leave, and it’s what made him excited to join Regulus and Evan to end him.

He had a plan, a plan only he himself knew about. End the dark lord, then end his father. Those lonely weeks in his bedroom had prepared him for whatever scenario they’d find themselves in. At least he thought so, he thought he was fully prepared.

But then there was Evan. Barty couldn’t quite explain it- why he always lingered a little longer when Evan spoke, or why the way his grip felt on his arm was almost as much of an adrenaline rush as being threatened by the dark lord. He dismissed it, of course, as he always did. Still, there was something about him that just made Barty feel less… alone.

After their last mission to Knockturn Alley, they decided to wear their death eater robes and masks to the next ones. They still had to hide under the cloak, of course. But at least if they ran into someone from the order again and the cloak wasn’t enough, they’d have a safety net to fall back on. Regulus altered their masks with a voice changing spell, ensuring them even more protection from getting caught.

It took another week until they found the next clue, and it was big.

The three of them had finally put their books down, decided to look over everything useful they’d come across and discuss it.

“I took this out of an old book about pure-blood families.” Regulus said, sliding a piece of paper onto the middle of the table, “I think the dark lord is related to this family in some way shape or form.”

Barty took the paper, studying it with a frown as Evan started over his shoulder.

“Related to the Gaunts?” Evan asked, turning to Regulus with his head cocked, “Where’d you get that?”

Regulus took another piece of paper from his pile, laying it in front of the other two. “Because of this.” He said, his voice dark as ever.

“The Heir’s burden lies where his blood first broke. Wizard of pure blood, Salazar Slytherin, ought not to let dirty blood be made.”

Barty frowned. “I don’t get it.” He said, also turning to face Regulus. “This doesn’t link the dark lord to the Gaunt’s.”

“I took that out of a book on the descendants of Salazar Slytherin. Apparently, the only real known descendants to Salazar Slytherin were the Gaunts.” Regulus explained, his voice low and soft, as if he was telling them a secret in a public space. “The locket, it belonged to them as well. There’s something written about it.” Regulus looked through the pile of pulled out paper in front of him, taking another one out. “Here.”

Evan nodded, reading the paper thoroughly. “Right, so that means the dark lord has to be a descendant.” He summed up. “Isn’t there a family tree somewhere in there?”

Barty made a sound, then ran over to the pile of books. Last time that happened it meant he found something, so the others watched him, intrigued.

“I remember- reading something.” Barty spoke as he threw books to the side. “In Hogwarts, a history.”

“Clever.” Regulus gave him that, he himself wouldn’t think to look for clues in a book they’d been taught from at school.

Barty got back to the table with a huge book in his hands. “There’s a section on how the Slytherins had been a pureblood family up until the Peverell family got involved.” He said, flipping to the right page.

Evan frowned. “Didn’t the Peverell family die out centuries ago?” He asked. Evan knew his history fact, it was the only subject he could beat his sister on.

Regulus nodded. “The name did, yes, but did the actual bloodline?”

“It did not,” Barty said, pointing at a family tree drawn on one of the pages of the book. “The last Peverell had two daughters. One married a Potter, the other married a Gaunt.”

Evan could see a shift in Regulus’ posture, though it wasn’t significant enough to point out.

“There’s a lot of lost information due to fires from the first wizarding war.” Barty said, looking at the tree and pointing at an empty spot in it. “But as you can see, the gaunt family continues and still, as of today there’s people with the Gaunt name walking around.”

“But there’s no record of them?” Regulus asked, wondering if this is what Barty was building up to.

Barty nodded, looking up at Regulus with a curious gaze. “You don’t by any chance know the dark lord’s real name, do you?” He asked.

Regulus shook his head. “He’s always been weirdly vague about it.”

Barty bit his lip, looking back at the book, thinking.

“I think I know where we can search for more.” Evan jumped in. “But we have to be even more careful this time.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Little Hangleton

Evan made a plan this time.

They decided their luck was going to run out one day, and they had to start planning their missions instead of freeballing them until something went wrong. Not that nothing had gone wrong yet, that one mission in London when the ran into the order could’ve ended very differently if Barty hadn’t kept his cool and Evan wasn’t as quick on his feet.

“Little Hangleton.” Barty read, looking at the sign in front of him. He then turned to Evan, “That’s it, right? We’re here?”

Little Hangleton was a small town in the very north of England. Evan knew about it because, again, he was very well-educated in History of Magic. The Gaunt’s had lived in this town for decades, which meant it would be highly likely for the dark lord to have lived there at some point in his life.

None of them knew the dark lord’s full name, though it surely wasn’t ‘Voldemort’. They couldn’t exactly go around town asking anyone on the streets if they knew about him, or his real name. Not that there was anyone in the streets, it was about as empty as the cave they’d found the locket in. It felt the same kind of eerie, as well.

Evan nodded, “This is it, keep quiet.” He said.

After Evan explained his idea, Regulus suggested they didn’t carry out this whole mission underneath the invisibility cloak. Evan and Barty were very much against it, suggesting he wanted a suicide mission. After looking through the facts, Regulus was right. They would never be able to stay underneath the cloak and search for clues for hours.

So, there they were. In their death eater robes, masks on and walking through the shadows of northern England.

The Locket still wasn’t destroyed, they had no idea how to do it. They weren’t even a hundred percent sure there was another horcrux. Though, it seemed plausible. The dark lord always had a plan B, C and possibly the whole alphabet.

“What are we even looking for?” Barty asked, strolling very closely behind Evan, not keeping quiet.

Regulus rolled his eyes, the whites of them visible beneath his mask. “Shut up Crouch.” He snapped, his voice sounded even darker through the voice altering spell.

Evan raised his eyebrows at him, surprised at the sudden outburst. He blamed the weight of the mission for making Regulus tense.

“I’m pretty sure we’re looking for a shack.” Evan said, not seeming very convinced.

“Great.” Barty said, sarcastically as he stopped walking. “You’re pretty sure we’re looking for a shack, I’m pretty sure we’re going to die. How wonderful that we match each other so perfectly.”

Regulus smacked the back of his head. “We don’t have time for this, keep walking.” He nagged, brushing past him and Evan who’d also stopped in his step.

The gleam of the locket around his neck made Evan think, was it even safe to wear that thing? Leaving it at their safe house wasn’t an option. The chance someone would find the house, or the locket wasn’t big, but even thinking of that happening was enough to have them take it.

Regulus had insisted on wearing it, suggesting once again ‘he dragged them into this’ and ‘they shouldn’t have to make another sacrifice’.

“Could that be what we’re looking for?” Barty pointed at a mansion, very grue looking and -hopefully- very abandoned.

Evan looked at Barty, a worried look on his face which wasn’t visible through the mask. “You can’t honestly think that’s a shack, Crouch.” He said, his voice full of judgement. “Or are you that rich and spoiled?”

“Can’t you feel it?” Barty asked, making Evan even more worried.

“Feel what?” He asked, turning to Regulus who had also stopped walking and was staring at the mansions a few feet ahead of them. “Black?”

Regulus put up his finger, shutting Evan up and taking a few steps into the mansion’s garden. “I feel it.”

Evan frowned, looking back and forth between his friends. “What are we feeling?”

“It’s dark.” Barty noted, shivering at the words. “It feels like… death.”

“Lovely.” Evan let out a humourless laugh. “Let’s look for the actual shack, then get back to this if we need to.”

Regulus turned around, as smooth on his feet as always. “Were there any other dark wizards in this town?” He asked, looking at Evan directly.

Evan shrugged, he wasn’t sure. “Not on the record, no. But there have been quite a lot of murders.” He said.

“That would’ve been worth mentioning before we went here.” Barty murmured, raking his hand through his stiff hair. “Could we move? This feeling is freaking me out.”

“Hold on,” Regulus replied, turning back to the mansions, pulling out his want from underneath his cloak. “Appare Vestigium.”

Nothing happened, even with the tracing charm.

“See, let’s just go Regulus.” Evan said, walking up to Regulus and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Regulus snapped his neck around, eyes dark underneath his mask. “Don’t touch me.” He warned, shaking Evan off and continuing their journey through the town.

Barty shot Evan a look of concern, which he shook off with a shrug.

They walked through the town, casting revealing spells and tracking charms at every corner and nothing. Absolutely nothing. There wasn’t a single shack in the village, nor was there any trace of magic, be it regular or dark. It had been hours, they were cold, starving, and about to give up.

Until they saw it, on the top of a small hill a bit away from the village; a fallen shack.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Sirius

Sirius had never been one to enjoy a calm evening. He loved a thrill, some drama, something to get his heart and head going. Everything calm made him feel uneasy, as if he was being set up. ‘When your whole life is chaos, no one can take it away from you. The minute your life is quiet and peaceful, you have everything to lose.’ Was one of Sirius’ favorite ways to look at it.

No one ever really bought it, the whole chaotic excuse. His friends never did anyways. They knew Sirius longed for a quiet life, to sit by the fire and read a book, grow old with someone.

Which, Sirius admitted to himself a while ago, was true. But somewhere in the chaos of his life, it started to become a part of him. The fact that nothing ever went the way he planned made him into the person he was.

His upbringing was also partly to blame for that. He was raised by the same parents as Regulus, though it almost felt like they were different people when it came to him. His brothers could never do anything wrong- or maybe he could, he just never did. Sirius wasn’t like him, he was rebellious, liked to make himself heard and definitely didn’t agree with the way his family would treat people of different blood.

Sirius argued with his parents, he yelled back at them, he did everything the wrong way just to make them mad. Which they got, they got mad. Every single time, they got mad. And they let him know how furious they were. Curses were thrown on a daily basis, he’d been jinxed by them more times than he could count on his finger. It wasn’t anything new, he’d gotten used to it very quickly.

Until at one point, they went too far. One day during summer, he’d gotten into an argument with them again. There was a whole lot of yelling and stomping, a few hits -mostly from his mother right to his face-. Which, again, Sirius could handle. Sirius couldn’t handle what happened next, the Cruciatus curse. They’d learned about it at school, talked about the excruciating pain this unforgivable curse put one in. Sirius learned that day that everything he’d heard about it was true, only ten times worse. He was sixteen.

After he left, he lived with James for the remaining years of their time at Hogwarts. The year he left, he finally got the courage to do what was long overdue and told Remus he was in love with him. Merlin, did that take them long. They both knew, somehow, someway, they were destined for each other. Sirius figured this out long before he confessed his love for the tall, lanky boy in sixth year.

The first time he thought about Remus that way, they were in fourth year. Sirius, Peter and James were sitting in their usual compartment of the Hogwarts Express, talking, when Remus had walked in. He was different. His hair was buzzed short, he’d gotten a piercing in his ear, he’d grown like a weed. Sirius hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the boy all the way to their dorm room.

They had their first kiss when the whole dorm room was watching, that one fateful day during sixth year, when he told him. He lucked out, Remus felt the same. If he didn't it would have been his downfall.

After he graduated Hogwarts, he moved into an apartment with Remus, close to James and Lily. The war had already been in full motion by then.

Sirius didn’t mind the chaos. Like said before, he thrived on it. His only problem was the fear of losing people. He’d found his way back to that fear, a fear he’d gotten rid of years ago, when he found out his brother died.

Regulus, his little brother. He loved his little brother as much as he hated him. Hated his perfect manners, his view on life, the fact he joined them. He became a death eater when he had a choice, why did he do that? Sirius never grew to understand, he never wanted to. He didn’t want to think about it.

He never wanted him to die, he wanted to save him.

About a week back, the four of them had gone on a mission. The marauders strutted around, like old times. Sirius knew how hard missions were for James after having a son, the fear of getting hurt, or his family getting hurt was unbearable. He had been… very different, after the last mission. It wasn’t his usual worry, it was bigger, it felt bigger.

“Alright Prongs, spit it out before I force you to.” Sirius said, walking into his study. He had been nagging his friend to tell him what was on his mind. He had been off ever since they ran into a group of death-eaters a week ago.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” James replied, nonchalant. He didn’t even turn to face Sirius.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re an ass.” He muttered, turning on his feet and moving towards the porch. He knew getting James to talk when he wasn’t in the mood never worked, and he himself wasn’t in the mood to try.

Once on the porch, he was met by the shadowed outline of Remus. He walked over to him, leaning on the wooden framing.

“James is being a little bitch.” He said, staring forward.

Remus let out a gentle laugh. “Any actual news?” He asked, rhetorically, then handed him the pack of cigarettes he was holding.

Sirius took it, lighting one up and turning to face his boyfriend. “I just don’t get it.” He complained. “I would never keep any secrets from him.”

The other man raised his eyebrows. “You’re joking?” He asked, an amused grin on his face. “How long exactly did it take before you told him about us?”

Sirius waved the question off with his free hand, the other one lazily holding the cigarette over the edge of the porch. “That’s different.”

“You don’t know that.” Remus said, straightening his back and turning his full body towards Sirius. “You’re less of an open book than you think, Pads.”

“Name one secret I’ve kept aside from our relationship.” Sirius challenged him.

Remus sighed, smoke blowing straight into Sirius’ face. “Regulus.” He said, shortly, raising his eyebrows.

“Don’t say his name.” Sirius said, immediately. He didn’t want anyone to take his brother’s name inside their mouths.

Ever since the news of Regulus’ death came out, Sirius had been tense. He told everyone he was fine, that a burden had been lifted off his shoulders, that he was relieved he didn’t have to fight his brother anymore. Nothing was further from the truth.

“I’m sorry, mister ‘open book’?” Remus spoke. “I just think you need to give James time. He’ll come to you if he needs you.”

“I don’t want him to need me, I want him to see me as his friend and talk to me.”

“Maybe what he needs from his friend right now is some time alone, Sirius. I mean, he’s got enough on his mind.”

“Right, the baby.” Sirius said, softly smiling as he thought about the little boy his best mate and Lily had brought home a month ago. “Have you spoken to Lily lately?”

Remus nodded. “She’s dropping Harry off tomorrow so she, Mary and Marlene can do some surveillance work around this little village called Little Hangleton?” He said, “I’ve never heard of it but death eaters have been spotted around there a couple hours ago.”

“Little Hangleton?” Sirius asked, frowning. “Never heard of it either.”

Remus shrugged, turning back to look out over the porch. The sun had set long ago but the stars offered them more light than the sun had for days. The safe house they were currently staying in with most of the order was located in the middle of nowhere, on rustic farmland. There was no one around them, no light to disturb the endless beauty of the milky way and all its stars.

“He’s up there.” Sirius whispered as he lit another cigarette, then leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder. “I hope he knows I’m watching him.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: The Riddles

The three men who were still walking around Little Hangleton, had finally arrived at the fallen shack. The closer they came to the eerie looking building, the more they felt that way- eerie, dark and death. The dark magic, a feeling of decay and an unnatural chill in the air only Barty and Regulus had felt before had spread to Evan as well, leaving all three of them with goosebumps from head to toe.

For some reason, Regulus kept looking up. He didn’t understand why but he felt like the stars were trying to tell him something, as if there was someone talking to him. It was a weird feeling, though he didn’t let it be known to the others.

“Do you think there’s anyone in there?” Barty wondered, getting more and more tense the closer they came to the entrance of the shack.

Regulus looked at him, disappointed by the question. “Yes Crouch, I bet it’s full of life.” He replied sarcastically. The snarky comments weren’t completely out of character for him, but the amount he was throwing them in was.

“Be nice.” Evan warned, hitting Regulus’ arm.

Regulus snapped his neck towards the blonde, the fire in his eyes almost burning through his mask. “Don’t touch-”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t touch me.” Evan filled in, rolling his eyes. “Don’t touch me, don’t breathe near me, don’t walk so loud. I know, Black.”

Regulus took a few larger steps away from Evan, clearly annoyed. Evan sighed at his friend as he watched him walk. He wasn’t sure if he could keep blaming the weight of the mission on his mood or if it could be caused by something else. The gleam of the locket still around Regulus’ neck once again set him thinking, could that be it? Could the dark magic of the locket have found its way to his brain? And if so, wouldn’t that be dangerous?

“Hey, Reg?” Evan hesitantly asked after catching up to the other man. Regulus didn’t respond but the glance he shot Evan spoke enough. “Maybe we could switch? The locket, I mean.”

“No.” Regulus replied shortly, keeping his eyes in front of him.

“I think-”

“Evan, drop it.”

Evan didn’t say anything after. Regulus could be quite scary, and the fact he had this aura of dark magic hanging around him didn’t exactly help.

They stopped in front of the entrance, wands ready. Barty was already casting any dismantling and revealing spell he knew, hoping to get rid of any curses and traps the shack could have. He was a lot more collected than the day of their big mission to retrieve the invisibility cloak.

Once the coast had been cleared, they went in.

The shack had one floor, one room, covered in dust. Black wood covered the floor, curved up at the nails. The walls were covered in spiderwebs and mold. The shack was… empty. No- actually, all empty. There was not a single thing in the shack. But there had to be, right? Why else would they feel this overwhelming presence of dark magic?

“Revelio.” Regulus breathed. Nothing happened.

“Appare Vestigum.” Evan tried. Nothing, again.

“Accio Horcrux.” Barty said, hesitant.

The other two titled their heads to the middle, both watching the man with a frown. “Really?”

Barty shrugged, sheepishly. “It was worth a try.”

All of them tried more spells, but to no success. They were getting more and more tired, the night was getting darker and so were their surroundings. Regulus and Barty had already given up on trying spells, Evan kept trying the same few spells over and over again.

“Just stop, Evan.” Regulus sighed. “It’s no use, there’s nothing here.”

The blonde shook his head. “No, I’ve got one more trick up my sleeve, Black.” He said, even through the distorted mask his determined tone was clear. “Deletrius.”

A table appeared out of thin air, as if it apparated there. Then a bookcase, and a couple of chairs. A bunch of rolled up old parchments set themselves on the table, along with a quill and oil.

Barty looked at Evan in disbelief. “Where in Merlin's name did you learn that?” He asked.

Evan gave him a cheeky smile, the corners of his mouth disappearing under his mask. “School.”

The other man frowned. “We didn’t-”

“Alright ladies, are we waiting for a tea party? Look around, do some research.” Regulus interrupted, shoving past the two and immediately diving into the rolls of parchment on the table.

Evan made his way over to the bookcase which held only a couple of books, most of them were children’s tales or basic spell books. He still opened them and flicked through them, making sure there weren’t any details scribbled in between the lines.

Barty sat down next to Regulus, going over a different parchment. It looked like an essay, exactly like they’ve had to make at school, it was on werewolves and other half-breeds. Nothing useful, but he still read it.

Regulus’ parment was almost empty, aside from one line.

“Dear Merope,
Though I do not approve of your ways, you must bring the boy home. Our famil-”

From there, a couple of smudges and then nothing.

The boy could be him. Regulus wondered what the writer meant by ‘not approve of your ways’. And Merope, they’d seen her, on the family tree. She’d been all the way at the bottom, the most recent descendant to the Gaunts. It wasn’t that recent though, that family tree must’ve been at least forty years old.

“Hey, does the name Riddle speak to any of you?” Barty asked, the lit up tip of his wand pointing at the very bottom of the parchment.

Evan walked over to him, leaning over his shoulder. “Tom Riddle.” He read out loud. “I don’t think Riddle is a wizarding family. Not full blood at least.”

“It’s not.” Regulus filled in, leaning over the parchment as well. “I’ve never heard the name… but it sounds- feels like I know it.”

Evan shot him a glance, watching from the locket to his mask and then his eyes. Regulus wasn’t looking at him, still Evan could see a dark gleam in his eyes. A shadowy void had fallen over his once grey pupils, making him look scarier than ever.

“This is a Hogwarts assignment, though.” Barty noted, pointing at the title. “We had to write this in fifth year.”

Regulus frowned. “Ours weren't allowed to be called werewolves and half-breeds, though.” He pointed out. “‘Half-breeds’ has been considered a ‘hurtful’ term for decades, this is an old assignment.”

“So? Tom Riddle was a Hogwarts student at one point during the last century.” Evan said, “That doesn’t really help us further, does it?”

Barty cursed, pushing himself away from the table with a groan. “Why is this so hard?” He complained.

They all stared at the parchment, quietly for a couple of minutes, all hoping somehow a clue would appear. The tense atmosphere was the only thing keeping them awake, as they hadn’t slept or eaten in hours.

“We’re wasting time here.” Regulus snapped, rolling up the parchment and rising to his feet in a quick motion. “We have to get back to that mansion.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Revelation

They went back to the mansion the next day. By the time they finished searching the shack it was almost morning. Regulus wanted to go on, finish what they started now that they were there. Evan had politely disagreed, arguing that undergoing the mission while sleep deprived would put them in a whole lot of danger. Even more so when they had Barty with them, who was a danger to everyone if he didn’t sleep enough.

So, they all took turns sleeping for a few hours and went back after sunrise. They weren’t too worried about the town being any more crowded by day, seeing as the night there had been equally as silent as the sea surrounding their safe house.

Regulus didn’t take off the locket, not even when he went to sleep. He couldn’t grasp why exactly but he felt as if bad things would happen if he did. Almost as if the second he’d take it off, someone would swoop in and take it from them.

The locket made him feel bad, moody, dark. It made him feel exactly the same as he’d felt the first time he walked in to the dark lord’s mansion. A kind of anxious, nervous feeling paired with an abnormally heavy amount of guilt.

It didn’t help that Regulus already felt guilty for everything. For telling his friends about his mission, for allowing them to come with, for making them do all this work when they could’ve had such an easy life being death-eaters. That’s what being a death-eater was, easy, aside from the fact you had to obey a master, following and filling their every need. If you succeeded at doing that you had a safe space for life. Sure, every now and then a death-eater got killed. But honestly, Regulus always found that those people just had a skill issue. The dark lord would never let anyone get away with killing one of his followers, not even his least trusted followers.

Regulus was fully aware of the way the locket made him feel, he just didn’t notice it had been affecting others. He didn’t notice his snarky remarks from the day before, or the way his eyes had darkened every time someone so much as came to him.

Evan had noticed. He noticed very quickly and he was worried. He wasn’t that well-read about dark magic hidden in horcruxes, or the effect of them. He didn’t know if the effect would be long term, or if they’d go away once he’d take the locket off.

He kept throwing Regulus these looks, trying to get him to calm his mind and talk about it. Every time Regulus made eye contact, Evan was thrown off. The darkness his gaze held with the locket around his neck, it was frightening, terrifying. He dropped it after the other man’s eyes started to make him paranoid, especially in the middle of the night.

The streets were, as expected, empty again. They quickly reached the mansion, which was even bigger than they could remember. In the light of day they could clearly see how old and abandoned this mansion was. It was overgrown in all kinds of weeds, vines and wildflowers. It would have been a really beautiful place if it weren’t for the unavoidable feeling of death and decay.

Evan still didn’t feel it, the magic. He felt it at the shack, but it wasn’t as excessive as Regulus and Barty had described it. He wondered if maybe he wasn’t enough of a ‘dark wizard’ to feel the presence of dark magic. Maybe the fact that his parents were open and kind (at least until he was ten) made him less… attached to the darker side.

“Why did you even want to come back here?” Evan asked, almost shyly, turning to Regulus. He didn’t look him in the eyes, he didn’t dare.

Regulus bit his lip. “Just a feeling.” He said, his eyes flickering up and down the building in front of them.

“Lovely.” Barty said, sarcastically. He had his wand out in front of him, making his cloak rise up on his arm slightly, but far enough for everyone to see the goosebumps that had formed on his skin. It wasn’t even cold out, but the aura of the place was.

Regulus eyed Barty with an annoyed glance, his eyes rolling to the side. “You know, Crouch.” He said, it came out harsh. “Keep up that sarcastic attitude, I really think it will help you in the future.”

“He said, sarcastically.” Barty scoffed, but he let it go. He knew Regulus was a grump, and had always been. The locket didn’t help, he knew that as well. He could feel the dark magic radiating off it, especially when he was asleep. It was almost as if it infiltrated his dreams. Barty was sure Regulus could feel it too, and that it affected him even worse. He just wondered if Evan could feel it, though.

Evan was already checking the area for protective spells and traps, which to his surprise were actually there. That must’ve meant there was at least something hidden there, right?

“It’s clear, let’s go.” Evan said, gesturing his hand for them to come in.

The doors were massive, almost as big as the ones at the entrance of Hogwart, only these ones were made out of old, rotten wood. They weren’t locked or anything, a simple push with a bit of effort did it. When they walked inside, wands raised in front of them, they all looked at each other. They all felt it, that same feeling they’d gotten in the cave, that of a crushed soul handing around them. The next horcrux was in there.

“Barty, you look upstairs, Regulus go to the left and I’ll search the right.” Evan ordered, feeling very confident about their mission all of a sudden.

They all tent their own ways, exploring the mansion while keeping their wands at the ready. What they mostly found were old muggle books, regular rooms, some things they’d never seen before in their lives; such as a box with a glass pane in it that had two sticks coming out of it. Probably some muggle invention.

Regulus being their dark magic ‘search dog’, immediately knew that where he was looking wasn’t it. He joined Barty upstairs after only half an hour of searching around. The mansion was massive, even more so from the inside. There must’ve been at least fifty rooms altogether, not including the huge guest house that stood in the backyard.

Aside from the probable horcrux that they were trying to locate, the whole house screamed muggle. It made them wonder, why would the dark lord hide a horcrux in there? He hated muggles, he wanted to end them, take power over them. It didn’t make any sense.

Barty and Regulus talked about it as they were searching. What the reason could be. An extra kick in the face to muggles? Did he murder a muggle and just leave the horcrux where he did it?

Until they heard Evan from downstairs. “Lads?”

They shot each other a look before rushing downstairs to Evan, thinking that he’d found it, whatever they were looking for. He hadn’t, no, Evan was looking at a big piece of parchment. A big family tree was pasted over it, titled ‘the Riddles’.

“That’s-“

“It’s the name from the shack.” Evan nodded, eyes big and kind of confused. “I think the dark lord is Tom Riddle.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: James

“He gets fuzzy for his bottle around five, usually. If he starts acting out earlier you can just give it to him whenever. Also, there’s diapers, extra pacifiers and a few changes of clothes in the bag. Don’t make him wear the sweater with the little broomstick on them if he doesn't want to, some days he’d fine with it but then other-”

“Lily, we’ve watched him before you know?” Remus interrupted Lily, who was frantically moving her hands as she ranted.

Lily took a deep breath in, letting it out shivery. “I know, just- not without me near.” She explained, her tone nervous. “And I’ve not been on a mission in a long time, so.”

“You’ll be fine. James is here too, don’t worry Lils.” Sirius ensured, talking softly as he tried not to wake the sleeping baby in his arms.

The redhead breathed out a soft noise of agreement, calming herself. She explained a few more things to the others before waving them and her son goodbye, telling them to tell James goodbye as well.

“She seemed nervous.” Sirius noted, looking up at his boyfriend.

“Well she did have to leave her child with a man dressed like a deranged mental patient.” Remus said, somewhat amused, looking up and down at Sirius’ clothing. “Why do you look like you’ve just escaped prison?”

Sirius playfully rolled his eyes. “My pyjamas got ruined, stupid muggle washer thing.”

The safe house they were staying in was technically a muggle house, fully equipped with all sorts of stuff which was entirely new to them. Luckily, Arthur Weasley knew quite a bit about the electronics in and around the house, due to his job at the ministry. He had tried to explain some things to Sirius, but to no use.

Remus had grown up in a muggle town, surrounded by muggle inventions. He wasn’t new to most things, but some of the appliances in the house were mostly meant for people of high economic status. Such as an electric washer.

“Wow Pads, applying for a job as house elf?” James asked, eyebrows raised as he watched them walk into the kitchen.

“Oh shut up, Potter.” Sirius huffed, lifting the baby out of his arms and passing it to Remus, who wasn’t entirely prepared. “I’m changing”

Sirius walked off while throwing some complaints about the washer under his breath. Remus let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he watched him walk off.

James cleared his throat. “Has Lily left already?” He asked.

“Yeah, she told us to tell you ‘bye’, that was it.” Remus didn’t look away. He was studying James, waiting for the reaction he already suspected would come. He’d noticed some changes in the way James and Lily had been talking with each other. They used to be a very affectionate and devoted couple, but lately it felt like they were merely best friends.

“Right.” James said, picking up the cup of coffee sat next to him. He didn’t expect any more out of Lily, especially not after the big fight they had the night prior.

It had been happening more and more often: Fights, disagreements, arguments. James had been blaming the pressure of the war, combined with the fact they had to deal with a crying baby day in and day out. Only… he wasn’t sure if that was it anymore. He felt as if Lily had just stopped trying to be his wife altogether. Sometimes- some days, he felt like he was a glorified babysitter to their child, only there to take a load out of her hands.
Loving Lily had never been easy. But for a long time, it had been enough.

James had never minded the arguments, the stubbornness, the way they could go from laughing to shouting in the span of a heartbeat. That was just who they were. They fought, but they always came back to each other. There had always been something pulling them back—a touch, a glance, a whispered I love you in the quiet of the night.

But lately, something had changed.

The little moments that once made everything feel unshakable were slipping away. Lily used to reach for his hand absentmindedly while talking, tracing circles on his skin without thinking. She used to hum against his shoulder when she was tired, used to look at him with that quiet, knowing warmth even when she was annoyed. Now, those things were fading, one by one, and James didn’t know if it was her, or him, or the war, or Harry, or something else entirely.

Maybe it was all of it. Maybe love just didn’t stand a chance against everything weighing down on them.
James wanted to ask. He wanted to fix it. But every time he opened his mouth, the words stuck in his throat. Because what if she didn’t have an answer? What if there wasn’t a way to fix it?

And worse- what if she didn’t want to?

“Do you want to talk about anything, Prongs?” Remus asked, bouncing Harry around in his arms.

James shook his head, looking at his son. His beautiful son, the love of his life. He would give anything for Harry, do whatever it takes to keep him safe. Harry was the only thing keeping him from spiraling in these dark times, the only one reminding him he had something to fight for.

Remus sighed, walking over to his friend and handing him his son. “You put him to bed, then come talk to me.”

“I don’t-”

“You do, James.” Remus ensured him. “Maybe not about Lily, but you need to talk to someone, yeah?”

James didn’t respond. He walked out with Harry, carrying him up to his room and gently putting him down in his crib. He watched him for a few minutes, just looking.

“You’re the sweetest little dream come true.” He whispered softly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: Anger

“I think the dark lord is Tom Riddle.”

They all kept staring at the family tree, even after realizing it was the only logical option. It had been several minutes of them watching the parchment in confusion- in denial.

The man trying to rule out muggles, muggleborns and everything involving them was… a half-blood. The family tree clearly stated it: Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Sr. had a child together, named Tom Riddle Jr. Everything linked together, the date on the assignment in the shack lined up perfectly with the day Tom Riddle Jr. was born, he would have been fifteen. And the note, on the table. “Though we do not approve of your ways.” That must’ve been a letter from Merope Gaunt’s parents to her and her muggle husband.

“What do we do now?” Barty asked as he pushed himself away from the desk, he was the first one to look up from the paper. He watched Evan and Regulus with hope in his gaze. “This is leverage, we could use this.”

Regulus scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Leverage for what, exactly?” He asked, he seemed upset. “What, you want to stomp into his mansion and demand peace? Do you really think the dark lord would give up on his fight just to keep the world from seeing his true self?”

“I think it’s worth a try.” Barty said, frowning at Regulus. “Didn’t you say it yourself, he’s a very proud but secretive man. I think we could use this.”

“I think we might as well invite him over for a scotch by the fire of our safe house.” Regulus clasped his hands together, cynically excited. “And while we’re at it, let’s invite the Order as well, seems like it’d be a lovely get together!”

No one had a chance to reply before Regulus walked off, growling something about wasting time. Evan looked up at Barty, he’d stopped watching the family tree when Regulus started manically speaking about the dark lord. He looked worried, his eyebrows furrowed together.

“What’s up Rosier?” Barty asked. For some reason, the worried look in Evan’s eyes did not sit right with him- more than that, I unsettled him in a way he couldn’t describe. It made him feel uneasy.

Evan shook his head. “No, nevermind.” He said, the worry melting of his face but not leaving his eyes yet.

“No, come on, tell me.” Barty pushed, shifting on his feet. He could only see Evan’s eyes under the mask, and he knew what worry looked like in them. As if the once calm tropical sea had turned to a rugged sea, still bright and blue; just disturbed.

The blonde sighed, pulling off his mask with one hand and raking through his greasy hair with his other. “Do you think that locket does permanent damage?” He asked, biting his lip harshly.

Barty thought about it, watching Evan’s face. He looked so different without his mask, so much younger. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know, why?”

“Haven’t you noticed Regulus' behaviour?” Evan asked, eyebrows raised.

Barty let out a sniff. “He’s an ass, yeah. I’ve noticed. But what could we do about it? He won’t take it off.” He said. “And definitely don’t ask him, he almost hexed me yesterday when I tried to bring it up.”

“So you tried as well?” Evan asked, glad he wasn’t the only one focussing on the locket.

The other man nodded, “Yeah, when we were about to sleep during your turn on the lookout.”

“Are you ladies done yet?!” Regulus yelled from down the hallway.

Evan gritted his teeth, looking into the direction of his voice. “He’s taking that thing off, now.” He said before storming out of the room and towards Regulus.

Regulus rolled his eyes at him, seeing his mask in his hand. “That’s a great idea, why don’t you wear a sign with your name on it while you’re at it?” He snarked.

The blonde let out a low chuckle, though there was no humor in it. “Oh Black, if you don’t take off that locket I will honestly kill you.” He threatened, he really was done with the snarky remarks. They were all in the same boat, going through the same situation. Regulus had no right to act as if he was the only one having a hard time.

“No.”

“No?”

“Go away.” Regulus turned his back to Evan, acting as if he was searching through the cabinets in the back of the room.

“Regulus, take. it. off.” Evan ordered.

Regulus didn’t budge.

Barty walked into the room as well, he had been standing behind Evan the whole time, hoping he could talk some sense into their friend. He’d always expected Evan to be good at that, pep talks and all. Turned out he wasn’t.

“You don’t have to carry this alone.” He said.

Regulus stopped searching and turned around in a smooth movement, his eyes- they weren’t dark, they were sad. Barty had hit the right spot.

“What if I do, though?” Regulus asked, his usually dark tone audibly breaking.

“You don’t.” Barty stated, again. He took a few steps towards Regulus. “We chose to be here, we chose to leave the dark lord, we chose this life. Merlin, Reg, I’ve never in my nineteen years felt more alive than the past three months we’ve been searching for these things. I like that we have a purpose, something to fight and life for.”

Evan blinked, taken aback from Barty’s revelation. Barty never really… talked about- well, anything at all. He was rather the silent type, aside from his ‘charming’ sarcasm.

Regulus didn’t say anything.

“Hand it over.” Barty ordered, sticking out his hand. “We’ll take turns wearing it.”

Regulus took a deep breath before slipping the locket off his neck and softly landing it in Barty’s hand. Taking off the locket felt- it felt great. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulder, as if the voices in his head telling him he wasn’t good enough had finally found the door.

His whole demeanor changed, his stance got less stiff, -at least as much less as was normal for Regulus-. His eyes changed, the color of them even. They went from dark gray back to their usual rainy sky grey.

Barty slipped the locket around his neck, then patted Regulus’ shoulder. “Better?”

Regulus scoffed. “Barely.”

“Still an ass.” Evan noted, sticking up his hands in defence when Regulus gave him a death stare.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: The Deathly Hallows

Barty cursed under his breath as he shoved a searched drawer closed. “We’ve been searching for hours, is it even here?”

Regulus nodded, carefully looking through a box of books with his lit up wand raised. “It is, we’re really close.” He promised, his attitude had changed completely after taking off the locket. For once, Regulus was the hopeful one.

“It would be quite a lot easier if we knew what kind of object we were looking for.” Evan pointed out.

No one had anything to say to that. Because it was true, they had no idea what object they were looking for and it made the whole search so much harder. With the locket, it had been obvious. It was the only thing tangible in the whole cave. This mansion- it was full of stuff. The Riddle’s had to have been rich people in their days. The amount of jewelry, expensive books, fancy clothing, everything that screamed wealth laid in that house.

Every single item in there had the potential of being a horcrux.

The only reason they didn’t take everything, was because Regulus knew when they weren’t holding the right object. He knew he’d feel some sort of darkness, just as he had with the locket. The locket around his neck had given him the perfect representation of what the touch of a deceased person would feel like. The inferi in the lake, grabbing his leg, came close to it, but not as close as the horcrux.

No, wearing the horcrux, only just touching it even felt as if the soul trapped in there kept whispering dark thoughts right into his brain. Regulus felt bad that Evan had to go through that, he didn’t want to share that darkness. He was used to it anyways, those dark thoughts weren’t any heavier than the degrading words his mother used to throw at him. He didn’t know about Evan, but he never thought the blonde really had the same kind of upbringing as him. Regulus knew Barty did, he knew Barty had been hit once or twice by his parents, presumably his father. He’s seen him without a shirt more than once in the dorms, and he’d seen bruises and scars. He never really got that from Evan, the idea that his parents were bad- or mean, to him.

“Yo, Black.” Barty snapped his fingers in front of Regulus’ face, pulling him out of his deep thoughts and back into their search. “Evan found something.”

Regulus needed no more information, he lunged over to the said boy, crouching down to see what the blonde was looking at.

It was a golden ring, though it didn’t shine as much as gold usually would. The ring was engraved with swirls and curls, all the way around except for the front of it, where a black diamond was carefully attached to the edge. It made for a beautiful contrast, the gold dull and worn off, covered in dust; the stone shiny and radiating energy. The stone had a symbol in it, beneath a layer of clear glass laid a triangle shape, in it a circle which was disturbed by a line from top to bottom.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Evan asked, searching Regulus’ face for answers. Regulus never showed that much reaction, not with his face. Evan had started to figure out where he had to watch for changes, his shoulders and his hands. And it told him everything: the man’s shoulders tensed and his hands clenched together into tight fists. This ring had to mean something.

Barty crouched down as well. Now forming a circle around the ring, him and Evan watched Regulus’ unreadable expression.

“Reg?” Evan asked, uncertain.

Regulus nodded, slowly but sure. “This is it.” He stated.

Barty grinned, feeling as if a weight dropped off his shoulders. He was about to exclaim some sort of excitement until he saw Evan’s gaze on Regulus, worried.

“What’s wrong, we’ve got it, right?” Barty wondered, confused as to why they were still staring at the ring instead of celebrating the fact they’d come yet another step closer to destroying the dark lord.

Regulus watched the ring closer, his mouth falling open slightly. “This is really it.” He whispered.

“That symbol.” Evan added. “It’s-”

Regulus looked up at Evan. “The Deathly Hallows.”

Barty frowned, he didn’t follow. History and- well, anything school related really wasn’t his thing.

“What?” He asked, he was starting to get annoyed by the fact that Regulus and Evan seemed to have this bond of knowledge where neither of them had to talk in order for them to understand each other.

Evan looked up at him, still crouched at his feet while Barty had already straightened up. “It’s a children's tale: The tale of the three brothers.” He explained, cocking his head. “Didn’t your parents read that to you?”

Barty scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away, but he didn’t speak. No, his parents never read that to him. His parents had never read him anything. His mother was too sick to even put him to bed, his father never even stuck his head around the doorframe to see if he was in bed.

“It’s about three brothers, the three Peverell brothers; you know them, right?” Evan spoke, noting the change in Barty’s posture but deciding to ignore it. “I’m not sure how the whole story goes, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard it.”

Regulus scraped his throat. “The brothers are magic, they cross a deathly river by using their magical abilities. Death rewards them by offering each of them anything they’d ask him.” He told them the story, not taking his eyes off the symbol on the stone. “The first and eldest brother asked for a wand, more powerful than any wand in the world. Death made him the Elder Wand out of a nearby tree, giving it to him. The middle brother wanted to humiliate death, so he asked for a stone that could recall the deceased from the grave. Death made him the Resurrection Stone.”

Barty’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re telling me the stone in this dusty old ring could bring back someone from the death?” He asked, almost amused by the absurdity of it.

“I know it sounds absurd, but this story is more than a tale. The Peverell family was real, and so are the Deathly Hallows.” Regulus said, finally looking away from the ring and at Barty.

“How are you so sure of that?” Barty asked, his eyebrows still furrowed.

Evan's mouth fell open in realization. “The third brother, Regulus.” He said. “The invisibility cloak.”

“Yes,” Regulus admitted with a sigh. “The invisibility cloak.”

Barty let out a hollow laugh. “You’re kidding me?” He asked. He slipped his mask off his face, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “That’s one of them?”

Regulus looked down at the ground, not sure what to tell them. He knew what the invisibility cloak was, what it represented and how valuable it was. He knew who it belonged to, who inherited it, which was exactly why he knew where to find it in the first place.

“How.” Evan asked, also searing to his feet, towering over Regulus who was the last one crouching down with the ring. The question came out more as an order, warning him not to try and lie. “How did you know about the cloak?”

Before Regulus could make up a lie, a loud crash came followed by voices all three of them recognized; the Order.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: Busted

“This is where Kingsley said the ministry picked up death eater activity?” Marlene asked, looking up at the mansion in front of them. It had an eerie vibe, almost death-like, as if a dementor had taken residence there.

Mary pushed past her, walking towards the big wooden doors. “Yes, multiple sightings of three death eaters.” She said, “Last sighting was a couple of hours ago, so they’ve probably left already.”

“So, just damage control then?” Lily chimed, catching up to Mary.

She was nervous, which was unusual for her- she was never nervous. Not for missions, at least. She knew she could handle it, fighting, running, confrontation. She didn’t realize becoming a mother would have such an influence on the way she handled life. All of a sudden, everything became real; someone’s life, her son's life, would be turned upside down if she one day didn’t make it back home.

“Yes, Lily.” Mary promised, turning to the redhead with an assuring look on her face. “Breathe for a second.”

Marlene rolled her eyes, brushing past them and taking her wand out of her pocket. “You girls finish your therapy session.” She snarked, pointing her wand at the door. “Bombarda.”

The door blew out of its hinges, dust and broken wood flying into the mansion leaving a huge mess. A smell escaped once the mansion was cracked- or rather blown open, a smell of decay.

“Marlene!” Mary scolded, turning to the blonde.

“What?” She asked, stepping into the mansion with her wand in front of her, lighting the tip of it. Even with the gaping hole in it, the mansion was still dark as the night.

Lily let out a shaky breath, somewhere between a laugh at Marlene’s actions and a tension filled sigh.

“At least now they know we’re coming.” Marlene added, covering herself against any more criticism.

“You think someone’s in there?” Lily asked, panicked, looking between the other two.

“No, Lily.” Mary quickly said, shooting Marlene an annoyed look.

Marlene looked at the big stairs in front of them, immediately behind the entrance. “I’ll look upstairs, you two search down here.” She said, not waiting for any reaction as she rushed up the stairs, two at a time.

Mary sighed. “Sometimes, I feel like she wants to create dangerous situations.’’ She confessed.

Lily shrugged, not really paying attention to her friend talking. She was highly aware of all the sound around them: The floorboards creaking, the wind boasting against the stone walls, the subtle thumping of Marlene’s boots on the ceiling. Everything made her flinch.

She took a step forward, feeling her foot land on something soft. Immediately, she jumped up, almost cursing whatever it was on the floor that had felt so much like a dead body. When she pointed her lit up want at it, it turned out to be an old cloth.

“Evans, get yourself together.” Mary said, looking at her friend with a confused look. Mary had never seen Lily this panicked. She usually dove right into danger, never backing away from it.

Lily nodded, taking a deep breath. She could do this. She’s Lily Evans, for Godric's sake, nothing could stop her. Not even the thought of dying... Without her son ever really- no. No. That’s not the way Lily Evans thinks, she never backs down.

“I’ll take the right.” She said, determined before stomping away into one of the dark hallways of the mansion.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Marlene was sneaking around the many rooms the mansion possessed. It was clear these death eaters had been looking for something; cabinets had been left open, drawers messed up, boxed searched and scattered.

Marlene always liked to think of herself as a tough girl, not scared of anything. Confrontation? Please. Death eaters? Let them find me. He who must not be named? Pfft. Yet, the second she heard voices coming from one of the rooms, she froze. She hadn’t expected it, it caught her off guard. Those death eaters, they were supposed to be gone, to have left hours prior. They were first sighted more than a day ago, how were they still there? What were they even looking for in this abandoned muggle mansion?

“Put your masks back on you idiots.” One of the death eaters gritted, he had a deep voice- thought that could’ve been a voice altering spell.

“Shit.” Marlene cursed, softly. She stopped walking, knowing any step could trigger a loose floorboard and make those death eaters aware of her presence.

The death eaters were silent for a few seconds. Marlene didn’t like that, she had to know if they were moving or standing still.

“What do we do?” Another deep voice asked, it wasn’t the same person. They sounded distraught.

A third voice groaned, then spoke; “well we can’t apparate, those assholes already put an anti apparition spell over the mansion.”

Assholes?

They knew, these death eaters knew who they were. How would they know already, without even having seen them? It could’ve been any auror or even just any curious wizard coming to see why there were lights coming from this abandoned place.

“I say we run.” One of the death eaters suggested, already leaping towards the door judging by the footsteps coming closer. Marlene braced herself, getting her wand ready to attack.

“You’re dull, Crouch. We don’t just run.” The first death eater said, then the footsteps stopped.

Marlene audibly gasped. Crouch? Crouch? Barty Crouch? No way that psychopath was back on the radar, he had been missing for weeks- months, even. She had assumed he finally died.

“Fuck, did you hear that?” Crouch cursed, taking a few more steps towards the door into the hallway.

He looked the opposite side first, away from Marlene. She could’ve backed away, she should have backed away. She couldn’t, her body was frozen, her legs stuck to the floor. She knew Barty Crouch, she knew him at Hogwarts. He was a charmer. A sociopath, yes, but a charming one. He never failed to flirt with her whenever they passed each other in the hallway. Marlene always made a snarky remark back at him, telling him to piss off. And one night, when she had her guard down, when she had been left at the christmas ball by her date, he swooped in. He talked to her, made her believe he actually cared for her feelings. They spent the night together; the morning after he was gone.

It wasn’t her first encounter with him as a death eater, either. Last time it ended badly. He tortured her, humiliated her in front of a bunch of other death eaters. He even seemed to enjoy it. If it weren’t for Moody, she would’ve died right then.

Psychopathic, charming Barty Crouch Jr. Marlene hated him, with passion.

She recognized his eyes the second he turned to her. It really was him.

He seemed to be as frozen as her. His expression unreadably, especially underneath that death eater mask.

“What is it?” One of the voices asked from the room.

Crouch blinked, staring daggers at the woman in front of him.

“Mckinnon.” He said, shortly, his mouth slightly falling open underneath the mask.

The other men didn’t seem to need any more information before they stormed out of the room, pushing past Crouch and towards the girl. One of them grabbed her by the shoulders, shoving her against the wooden walls of the hallway with force, pointing his wand at her. “How did you find us?” He asked, threateningly.

Marlene let out a soft groan as her back hit the wall with a loud thump.

“Marlene?” Lily yelled from downstairs, she’d obviously heard something was going on upstairs.

“Don’t say a word.” The death eater said, still forcing her against the wall and pointing his wand at her. “No one has to get hurt.”

She didn’t know this one, this death eater. Neither did she recognize the third one.

“Someone has to get hurt.” Marlene huffed, fighting against the man’s hold, almost succeeding to escape. “Let me go!”

The third death eater rolled his eyes, taking out his wand. “Let’s just throw a stunning spell and get the hell out.” He suggested, rolling the wand between his fingers.

Marlene frowned. That wasn’t a very death eater thing to suggest; they usually like to unnecessarily harm people, not stun and run.

Crouch shook his head in disagreement, stepping forward with a smirk, he’d found his usual demeanor back after his initial shock. “I don’t think so.” He sang.

Quick and heavy footsteps came sounding up the stairs, both Mary and Lily were rushing up to them.

“Marlene” Mary yelled this time, they were almost there.

Marlene panicked, she wasn’t sure what the death eaters would do when the girls got there. They all had their wands out, what if they just ender them immediately; she knew for a fact Crouch wouldn’t think twice about killing.

“Don’t come up here!” Marlene yelled back, “It’s Cro-”

Before she could finish, the third death eater threw a silencing spell at her. He seemed taken aback, watching between Crouch and the other death eater.

“How does she know it’s you?” He asked, suspiciously.

Crouch shrugged, “Dunno,” He said, uninterested.

“She probably heard us talk before.” The death eater holding her against the wall groaned. “This is just great.”

“Do you want to kill her?” The third death eater asked, casually. As if her life was just another inconvenience in his way.

Crouch didn’t respond, he just looked at her. “After I’m done, go for the window.”

Crouch then put his wand against Marlene’s head. She looked at him with big eyes, almost begging not to do anything harmful to her. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t actually ask him not to hurt her. She wasn’t ready to be held under the cruciatus curse again, especially not by Crouch. “Obliviate.”

“Marlene, what is going on!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: Secrets

It took them a month.

A whole month before they spoke a word about everything that happened during their mission in Little Hangleton.

After getting back to the safe house, they went to sleep; each on their own turn. When they woke up, they ate together, sat together, planned heists to London, went on said heists, slept again, did some research, and not a single time mentioned the past mission.

None of them wore the ring. Regulus didn’t believe they should; it felt dangerous. Even more so than the locket. The locket, the stupid locket. They still wore it everyday. They passed it down to each other, making sure to keep a close look on each other whenever they were wearing it.

Regulus’ response to the locket was the same as it had been the first time he wore it: he became aggressive, snarky, and cynical. It wasn’t that noticeable as long as no one said or did anything ‘stupid’. Evan’s experience with the locket was different. He went quiet, he shut down completely. He didn’t want anyone near him, everything close to him annoyed him. Barty on the other hand became angry. Just plain angry.

A week back, it had been Barty’s turn to wear the locket. The fire wouldn’t burn the way he wanted it to, so he lit the dinner table on fire. They had been eating on the floor for days.

Evan had been in his head about the mission. There were so many unanswered questions, so many secrets. He wanted to wait for Regulus and Barty to tell him out of their own initiative, he wanted them to be his friend, to be honest. But a month. They weren’t going to tell him anything.

It started as an argument. Regulus had suggested they be more careful with their missions to knockturn alley as the order had been spotted around there more and more often.

“Careful, huh? That’s rich coming from you.” Evan snapped, his eyes dark and heavy. He was tired, the locket around his neck drained his energy faster than any mission did.

Regulus freezed. Barty stiffened.

“You know what? Never mind. Keep your stupid secrets. That’s what you two do best anyways, isn’t it?”

Regulus knew exactly what this was about. He tried to catch Evan’s gaze, tried to calm him down. There was no calming Evan down anymore; he was pacing, spiralling.

“A whole month, Reg! A whole month, Barty! It’s been a fucking month. Why are we keeping secrets? One single misstep in this whole mission could cost us our lives!” Evan was screaming by then: completely manic.

Barty gritted his teeth. “Drop it, Rosier.”

Evan let out a hollow laugh, filled with a lot of emotion. “No, no, I don’t think I will.”

Barty and Regulus shared a look. A look of worry for Evan, aside with actual fear for telling the truth.

“You know, you’re not the only ones with secrets. I have secrets, of course. We’re all allowed our private thoughts; just not when it compromises the mission.” Evan staggered on. “Such as, when all of a sudden; it turns out we have a deathly hallow in our possession. And you knew, Regulus. How did you know?”

Regulus blinked at him, Evan could see the hesitation in his eyes. He scoffed, he didn’t feel like waiting for Regulus to make up a lie. He turned to Barty.

“And you.” He spat. “What was that? Where did Barty Crouch Jr go? How did Mckinnon recognize you? And don’t bullshit me: it wasn’t just because she heard your name. It was more, that recognition went deep. And you didn’t kill her? Why? You’ve killed more people than I can count on my hands and feet!”

Barty clenched his fists together, turning to look at the fire, ignoring Evan as if he was a naughty child getting scolded.

“Really? None of you are going to talk?” Evan asked, looking between them. Regulus still had his eyes on him, carefully watching his moves. “Fine; I’ll talk. You want to know my secrets? Will that make you trust me?”

That caught Barty’s attention. He snapped his neck back at the blonde, watching his through furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m an orphan. My parents died during my time at Hogwarts. Well, my mother a bit before even. Pandora was my only light, the only one keeping me sane. I don’t have her anymore, my only family. She’s gone. Even though she might still be alive, breathing somewhere, she’s forgotten about me. I’m dead to her.” Evan rambled, “I need you two to trust me, to be my friends, to be my family. I can’t do this alone, I never learned how to.”

Evan was emotionally raw, he kept digging his fingernails into his palms, then running his sweaty hands through his already messed up hair.

“Please.”

Barty sighed, getting up from his seat and sticking out his hand to the blonde. “Come one,” He nodded. “Give it to me.”

“What?” Evan snapped.

“We’ll talk.” Barty said, looking at Regulus to make sure he agreed, which he did. “Take it off, first.”

Evan frowned, but reached for the clasp of the locket anyways. He slipped it off his neck, dropping it into Barty’s palm. Evan let his hand linger above it for a few seconds.

Barty looked straight at him before taking Evan’s hand into his own, “You don’t have to do this alone.” He ensured, then he quickly let go of his hand. He put the locket around his own neck, going to sit back down on his seat.

“Thanks.” Evan let out, though it was barely a whisper. His head was silent, finally. The burning against his chest was gone.

They all let the silence sit for a bit, staring into the fire, working up the courage to speak.

Regulus went first.

“Potter and I had a thing.” He confessed, his tone dark and sharp as always, though it felt heavier than usual.

Barty and Evan snapped their heads towards him, but didn’t say anything.

“That’s how I knew about the invisibility cloak, it’s his.”

They let that sink in.

“I shagged Marlene, then ignored her, then tortured her.” Barty said, his tone lacked its usual bite.

That confession sat in silence for a bit as well, lingering between them. This was what it was about: trust, listening without judging.

“Not all in one night, I hope?” Evan asked, about half a minute after.

Regulus let a small smirk crawl up to his lips, looking at Barty who let out a soft laugh, shoving Evan ever so slightly.

“Joke about my confession all you want, Reg still snogged Potter.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: Feelings

Five months had passed since they decided to leave the death eaters and go rogue. Four months ago, they found the locket. One and a half months ago, the ring.

And now, it was Barty’s birthday.

Such a joyous occasion, right? Another year older, finally out of his teen years! The big two and ‘O’, how lovely.

Barty had a tradition on his birthday. He started that tradition on his fourteenth birthday, the first time his mother had to spend his birthday in the hospital. His father had gone with her, leaving the poor boy all alone. Barty’s birthday was during summer holiday, he never dared invite anyone to his home, not his family or his friends.

The tradition; firewhiskey.

Yes, Barty had spent his past six birthdays wasted.

What was he supposed to do? No one was ever home, and if anyone was they certainly wouldn’t pay him any attention. The firewhiskey on his fathers desk had been staring at him, waiting to be opened.

“Where did you get that?” Evan asked, looking at the bottle on the table as he stretched his arms and back. He’d been sleeping for a long time, that was a first.

Barty snapped his gaze towards the blonde, watching him stretch and yawn, his shirt rising up a bit and exposing the skin below his belly button. He looked- he wasn’t sure why.

He swallowed, looking back into his eyes. “Diagon Alley.”

Evan let out a soft chuckle, sitting down on the chair next to Barty. “Awesome, crack it open.”

Barty turned his face towards the tiny clock on the table they had taken from the mansion, letting out a sigh.

00:20.

“Yeah, might as well.” He said his voice dark as he reached for the bottle.

Evan frowned, “You don’t sound too excited.” He stated, cocking his head as he watched Barty’s expression. He looked tired, even more so than usual.

“No, I am.” Barty replied, pulling off the cap and pushing the bottle to his lips, taking a sip.

He passed the bottle down to Evan, who gave him a quick eyebrow pump before pouring some firewhiskey down his throat.

They sat in silence for a while, passing the bottle back and forth.

It was nice, that silence. They both enjoyed it. Barty felt a bit weird to be spending his birthday with someone. He was usually such a loner, never cared that much for company. Though that could’ve had something to do with the fact he just never got any.

Evan didn’t even know it was his birthday. He didn’t have to know, Barty didn’t blame him. They weren’t really focussed on birthdays, not during the past couple months. Evan and Regulus had both turned nineteen somewhere in the five months they’d been searching.

“Barty?” Evan asked, turning around in his chair, putting both his feet on the edge of Barty’s.

Barty turned his head around, cheeks pink from both the fire and the inevitably flush of alcohol.

“Why did you… uhm- well, why- I’m just wondering, how did- no,”

“This is going really well.” Barty interrupted Evan’s stuttering, smirking with that usual cheeky look on his face. “Go on.”

“Why did you sleep with Mckinnon?” Evan asked, finally spitting it out. He looked uncomfortable after asking the question, as if it had been forced out of him and he felt immediate regret.

Barty chuckled, lowly, his eyes glowing with amusement. “Why do you ask?” He asked.

Evan shrugged, feet still leaning on Barty’s chair, the tips of them hovering over the side of Barty’s hip. “I’m just trying to figure you out.” He said.

“Well, I slept with Marlene because I felt like having sex and she was open to it.” Barty said, still as amused as he looked back at the fire. He took another big sip from the bottle. “Also, she’s crazy hot.”

Evan rolled his eyes, then turned them to Barty. Anyone could tell these two were very intoxicated, the flush of their cheeks and their slightly slurred speech.

“So, that’s just a reason to sleep with someone?” Evan asked, raising his eyebrows.

Barty let out a laugh, one he’d never let out before, a genuine laugh. “Yes, Rosier, that’s a very valid reason to sleep with someone.”

Evan let his mouth fall open slightly, letting out a soft “huh”. He took another sip of the firewhiskey, which gave him the confidence to start talking again. “I don’t think I’ve ever found someone hot then.”

“What?” Barty asked, not that confused, but a bit surprised and weirdly hurt. “That can’t be true, right? You’ve had loads of girls during your time at school.”

It was Evans' turn to give the other a confused look. “What? When?” He asked.

“Well you dated Emma Vanity in third year, then you took Dorcas Meadowes to prom in fifth, and I’m pretty sure I also heard you having sex with someone sometime during fifth year.” Barty explained, counting them on his hands.

Evan let out a soft sound of surprise. “Okay, wow, I think you know more about my dating life than I do myself.” He said, then his cheeks flushed even redder in realization. “Wait, you heard me having sex?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t stay to listen if that’s what you’re worried about.” Barty said, downing the firewhiskey into his throat, shaking it a bit. “It’s empty.”

“Did you hear who I was- who the other person was?” Evan asked, worried, biting his lip.

Barty narrowed his eyes. “No… why?”

Evan shrugged, turning to look at the clock. “Well, two AM. It’s about time you get some sleep huh?” He said a bit louder, not very subtly changing the subject.

“Yeah, okay then.” Barty gave in, he was indeed feeling very tired. The haze of the liquor didn’t help that.

Barty stood up, putting the bottle down on the table. He made his way to the bedroom, turning around in the doorway. “Hey, Evan?” He asked, making the blonde snap his head up from the fireplace. “Thanks.”

Evan threw him a gentle smile.

“Goodnight Barty.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: Dobby

“We have a problem.” Regulus stated as he busted into the living room of their dimly-lit safe house. He was holding the paper with a worried expression on his face. Which meant really bad news when it came to Regulus, who never really had any other expression on him than neutral.

Evan and Barty were seated at the table, eating some porridge and beans -which were the only shelf-life products they really ate-. It had been a while since their last mission, as they had decided to take it a bit slower after the order almost busted them in Little Hangleton.

Both of them turned to Regulus, who smashed the paper on the wooden dinner table opened on a page somewhere in the middle.

Death Eater activity detected by the Scottish coast; Aurors continue their search for missing witches and wizards.

Barty cursed, Evan groaned.

“You’ve got to be joking.” The blonde said, taking the paper in his two hands and reading the article thoroughly. “How do they keep ‘detecting death eater activity’, we’re not even actually death eaters anymore.”

Regulus pulled his sleeve up, exposing the tattooed skin of his wrist. “Remember? It’s like a tracker.” He said, quickly pulling it down again.

Neither of them enjoyed the fact they had been permanently claimed by the dark lord, yet Regulus seemed to have the most trouble with it. He always wore long sleeves, trying to make himself forget. No one could ever forget though, the dark lord made it impossible to. Once the thought of him slipped off their minds oh so slightly, the mark would start to hurt. Not in the indescribable way the cruciatus curse hurt, but just enough to remember who gave it to them.

“We have to get rid of those things.” Barty said, pulling out his wand.

Regulus scoffed, pushing Barty’s wand back down. “Don’t you think I’ve tried that already? It doesn’t work. When it’s ripped, it grows back, when it’s scorched, it grows back. You’d have to cut off your entire arm.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Evan chimed in. “We can’t stay here.”

The room went silent.

“We need to leave.” Barty said after a while.

“And go where?” Evan asked, looking up as he held his head steady with his hands. “We can’t just go to another safe house, they will find us eventually.”

Regulus nodded, slowly. “He’s right… so-”

“So we’ll have to keep moving.” Barty finished, jumping up from his chair so immediate it almost fell over. “Set camp, keep walking- running, we can’t let them get to us.”

And they did.

They packed everything up. Though everything wasn’t that much. Some clothes, the few personal belongings they had, the horcruxes, their books and plants, their mugs. Evan enchanted a bag, fitting everything inside without it actually filling up or making it any heavier. Barty and Regulus took one more trip to London where they searched for camping supplies, which they also enchanted.

It took them half a day to get ready. Then they left.

None of them had any idea as though which way they were going or where they were even going to end up. They just knew they had to move and keep moving, They had gotten far, far enough to be motivated not to give up. They had two horcruxes; two pieces of the dark lord’s soul, and had no idea how many more there were to come. They couldn’t call it quits, they had to keep going.

They walked for a couple of hours that first day, then set camp somewhere in the middle of a forest. It was already dark by then. Even though it had been summer, the tent was cold. Their air mattresses and thin sheets weren’t keeping them warm enough to get a proper night's rest. One of them still stayed awake at all times, enemies could strike at any time. Especially because both sides of the war seemed to be their enemies.

After barely sleeping, they spent another day walking around. They came across a small village. Populated, but not too crowded. That was the first time in months they ate an actual meal, in a small pub. None of them worried about getting sighted by anyone, these muggles were all farmers who rather enjoyed minding their own business. They set camp an hour from that village, where they slept a bit better than the night before.

This went on for weeks. Wake up, walk, eat, read, repeat.

Until they ran into someone, or rather something.

It had been a quiet night, as the nights had been for those past weeks. None of them had a lot of energy left to talk after a full day of walking, reading theories and discussing said theories. They shared an occasional ‘it's colder than yesterday’, or ‘what about …’ when they remember something that could be useful for their search.

“What about your cousin?” Barty asked, breaking the silence again, staring at the small fire keeping them warm.

Evan and Regulus looked up at him, then at each other. “Whose?”

“Both of yours.” Barty said. “Bellatrix.”

“What about her?” Evan asked, hugging his knees to his chest.

Barty shrugged, turning his gaze to Evan. “I don’t know.” He spoke, “Maybe she knows something? She’s a trusted follower right?”

“So was I.” Regulus chimed in, he had been drawing circles in the sand with his wand.

“Yeah, that’s true.” Evan said, still looking at Barty. “I guess that-”

Then the bushes rustled.

Barty and Evan jumped to their feet, Regulus readied his wand.

“What was that?” Barty asked, taking a step towards the bush as he took his wand out of his jean pocket. “Revelio.”

Nothing happened to the bushes, but then the bushes next to those made a similar sound and movement.

“Revelio.”

Nothing again.

Regulus got up on his feet as well, gracefully walking over to the bushes as he lit his wand. He pushed aside the bush with his wand, revealing… nothing again.

Then came footsteps behind them. They all turned around in one similar movement, pointing their wands at the front of the tent where- a house elf?

“Don’t hurt Dobby! He’s just wanting to tell misters something!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 18: Intell

“A house elf?” Evan asked, even though it was an obvious observation.

“Dobby, sir.” The house elf, Dobby, spoke, sticking his finger up in the air as he did so.

He was standing next to the fire, about three and a half feet tall, barely reaching the boys’ hips. He looked awkward, holding his one hand in the other as he uncomfortably rubbed them together. They were bandaged, though the bandages probably didn’t do very well on keeping whatever he was protecting clean, they were disgusting. Covered in dirt and old blood.

The elf was clothed in an old pillowcase, which was also dirty. It looked to have been white at one point but was now leaning more towards a greenish yellow color.

Barty was the only one who still had his hand out, ready to attack the house elf. “Give us a reason not to kill you.” He threatened, his eyes were dark and scary.

Dobby seemed to think so as well. He hunched his back, making himself appear smaller than he already was. He let out a soft whimper. “Don’t kill Dobby, please sir.” He pleaded. His big ears fell down a bit.

Regulus knew house elves. He knew what they were like, that they weren’t similar to any other magical creature. He knew the complexity of house elves, the way they were wired, the way their minds worked. He also knew that whatever Barty was planning to do, this house elf would allow him to. House elves don’t protect themselves, not when they have to offend a witch or wizard in the process.

“Barty.” Regulus said. Barty snapped his head towards him, his wand never leaving the house elf. “Don’t.”

“What?” Barty asked, relaxing his attack stance but not yet putting his wand down.

Evan did it for him, he touched his arm, pushing it down calmly. Barty’s gaze snapped towards the blonde, both startled at the touch and by the fact that it made him feel something other than annoyed.

“Think about it Barty, a house elf wouldn’t go defying its master if not for a very good reason.” He said, looking Barty into his slightly less darkened eyes.

“Dobby would never!” The house elf suddenly spoke up. “Never defy his master!”

Without warning, he took a step forward and put his hands into the fire. He didn’t cry or scream, he just let out some soft whimpers as he turned his head away as if he didn’t want to watch it.

Evan gasped, dropping to his knees and shoving the house elf away, out of the fire. “What the hell are you doing?” He asked, angrily.

“Dobby is not supposed to be here.” Dobby explained, looking startled at the fact Evan stopped him from hurting himself.

“So?! Don’t burn yourself!” Evan exclaimed, brushing his hand through his hair, still confused at what he’d just witnessed.

Regulus frowned, watching Evan tend to the elf’s hands. Did Evan not know? Not know how house elves were, in their world, ‘supposed’ to be treated?

The blonde took his wand, whispering a healing spell as he watched the blisters on the elf’s hands disappear.

The house elf didn’t seem particularly grateful, more confused if anything. “Sir, you are nice.”

Barty looked over at Regulus, sharing the same confused look Regulus had on the inside. They let Evan do his thing, and didn't say anything. Evan was so… pure, in a way, more so than they realized before. The realisation dawned on them at the same time. Evan may be an orphan but he hadn’t been his whole life. Had his parents taught him to act like this? He was a Rosier, a full blood wizard born into a family which was proudly a part of the sacred twenty eight.

But were they? Or was Evan never supposed to be a death eater? Evan had, to their knowledge, never killed someone. This may not seem as if it means something, but being a death eater meant having to kill, it was a required skill to know how to use unforgivables.

“What are you doing here, elf?” Regulus asked, crossing his arms. Not in any way to come across as aggressive or disapproving, it was quite cold even by the fire. Regulus didn’t shiver, or get goosebumps. He didn’t do feelings, feeling cold was a feeling, so he didn’t feel it.

Dobby wiped his healed hands on his pillow case dress, looking up at Regulus. “Mister Regulus Black, Dobby is honored to see you in person.” The elf spoke.

Regulus frowned. “How do you know my name?” He asked.

“You are famous, mister Regulus Black.” Dobby said, sounding as if it was supposed to be common knowledge. As if Salazar Slytherin had just asked any Hogwarts student if they knew his name.

“What?” It wasn’t Regulus but Evan who spoke. He was just as confused.

Dobby turned his gaze to the blonde, “mister Evan Rosier.” He spoke, bowing.

The three men looked at each other, then back at the house elf who didn’t seem to understand their confusion.

“You three are well known under house elves such as Dobby.” The elf explained, walking back and forth next to the fireplace. “You sirs are heroes. The dark lord is becoming frightened and it makes him weak. Dobby knows it is your doing.”

“What?!” Evan asked, a bit too loud. “How do you know? What do you mean? Does he know?”

“It’s definitely time to kill him.” Barty said, already getting his wand ready once again.

“Don’t kill him.” Regulus warned, putting up his hand. He then turned to the elf. “He knows something, that’s why he’s here.”

Dobby nodded, quickly. “Yes, Dobby does.” He spoke, though the way he was standing seemed to speak differently. The elf clearly didn’t want to tell whatever he was going to tell, he probably knew how much he had to hurt himself after.

Evan crouched down next to the elf. “What is it?” He asked, quite a bit more gentle than the rest of the conversation had gone.

“Well- Dobby knows you are wanting to make an end to this war.” Dobby said, only looking at Evan. “He knows what you are looking for.”

Regulus made a small sound of surprise. “You do?” He asked, letting himself fall to his knees next to Evan. “What else do you know?”

Dobby became nervous by the sudden interest in the story. He made a strangled sound, looking panicked before he ran over to their small wood supply and hitting himself in the head with a log.

Evan got up quickly, running over to rip the log out of his hands. “Don’t!”

“Evan, let him.” Barty said, his gaze wasn’t as dark as usual, it almost showed a hint of pity.

“But he’s-”

“Yes, that’s what house elves do.” Regulus told him. “It sucks but he wont tell us if he can’t punish himself for it.”

The blonde let it go, waiting for Dobby to finish whatever he had to do and come back to them. It took him a few more hits before he, barely, made his way back to the circle.

“The dark lord his soul.” Dobby said, finally. “Dobby had heard Kreacher speak about it to other house elves.”

Regulus’ mouth fell open. “Kreacher?” He asked, quickly.

Kreacher, his- or more so his family’s house elf. What was Kreacher doing going around telling others this massive secret? Why was Kreacher even seeing other house elves, he was supposed to be back at Grimmauld place taking care of Regulus’ mother.

“Yes, sir.” Dobby said. “Dobby knows where you will be to find another part of it.”

“Dobby, when did Kreacher talk about this?” Evan asked. He could see Regulus’ panic, could see him overthinking it.

Dobby shrugged. “Dobby is not sure.”

“Where should we look, Dobby?” Barty asked immediately after, making the house elf a bit overwhelmed.

He smacked himself in the head, a few times, as he repeatedly spoke the sentence. “Dobby is a bad elf.”

They again let him do it, even though Evan was having a hard time keeping himself from grabbing the elf by his tiny arms and keeping him still.

“You want the war to end, right Dobby?” Evan asked when the elf was done. He nodded, his big ears bobbing up and down. “We need to know what you know.”

The elf took a deep breath, gesturing for the three of them to come closer. They did, leaning their heads closer to Dobby. He cupped his hand around his mouth.

“The diary, in my master’s home.” He whispered, then took a step back and made another disturbed sound.

They were all expecting him to hit himself again, and then tell them more. But before they could even process the clasp of his fingers he’s already disappeared into thin air.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: Grimmauld Place pt.1

Time and location: 7:42PM Gairloch Scotland

After Dobby left, the three men had as much new knowledge as they had questions.

Most of the questions revolved around the fact that they seemed to be famous with the house elves. This brough worry with it; if the house elves knew, who else did? Did others know they were alive? Other wizards? And if so, were they looking for them specifically?

What if the dark lord knew? He wouldn’t even need a week to find them, they would’ve been dead by yesterday.

And Kreacher? He just told some random house elves about their plan? What was he even doing outside of Grimmauld place? Regulus sent him away after the cave to avoid raising suspicion.

It didn’t make any sense, it gave them all a headache.

Regulus worried most about his mother. If Kreacher told other house elves, it wouldn’t be long before he told Walburga -if he hadn’t already-. Once Walburga knew they were screwed. Her ranking was too high, even though she wasn’t a death eater.

The biggest question of all wasn’t surrounding their safety, or the amount of people aware of their existence. Their priority in this situation was; who could Dobby’s masters be?

‘The diary, in my master's home.’

That diary was important, Dobby wouldn’t have gone and defied his masters if it wasn’t. But why? Did the diary contain knowledge about the dark lord and his making of the horcruxes? Did the diary once belong to the dark lord? Or, maybe, the diary itself could be a horcrux?

“Kreacher has to be at Grimmauld place, but so is mother.” Regulus said as he paced around their enchanted tent.

From the outside, no one would suspect there to even fit more than one person inside of it. On the inside it was roomy enough to fit up to eight people.

Barty scoffed, sitting up on his air mattress to face Regulus. “Come on Black, we’re not breaking into that place. It’s crowded with dark wizards.”

“Well we don’t have any other options, do we Crouch?” Regulus snapped back, coming to a halt in his steps. “Do you honestly think I’m thrilled to go back there? I hated that place. If it were up to me, It would’ve been burned to the ground after I left.”

The locket was violently visible against the exposed skin of Regulus’ neck. It always showed itself when it was exerting its power, almost as if it happened on purpose.

Evan, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, leaned against a tent pole, arms crossed over his chest. “If Kreacher is still there, he might know something about that diary.” He spoke, his tone even but his eyes flickered with hesitation. “And if he’s told others about us, we need to know now.”

Regulus exhaled sharply, running his fingers through his greasy hair. It had been Merlin knew how long since they’d been able to take a proper shower. The baths in lakes they passed were only so so at cleaning them up. “I know.” His voice was tight. “I just don’t like the idea of walking straight into the lion’s den.”

Barty smirked, stretching his legs out in front of him. “More like the snake’s nest.”

Regulus shot him a glare. Though his eyes were dark from wearing the locket, there was not real anger behind them, only exhaustion.

Silence stretched between them for a moment before Evan finally spoke again. “When do we leave?”

--

Time and location: 7:42PM London England

“Honestly Frank, I think he’s possessed. You don’t hear the sounds he makes at night” James spoke as he looked into the eyes of the man he just called out.

Frank Longbottom, one of the members of the Order, rolled his eyes. Something he had done quite a few times since the start of their conversation. “Your baby is not possessed James, he’s just fussing in his sleep. It’s normal, I’m sure you do it as well.”

James sighed, taking a sip of the whiskey in front of him. Ever since he became a father, he’d started having these talks with Frank. Where they each had a glass of whiskey and talked about parenting in times like these.

It was hard on them. Frank was a couple years older and knew a bit more about the world and how it worked. He was an auror before the war started, a very good one. The ministry kicked him out once Voldemort got his hands on the minister, once the ministry turned dark. They didn’t even try, they knew Frank would never turn his back on what he believed in, which was basically just kindness.

Frank's son, Neville, was a day older than Harry. Its what made their level of understanding with each other so much more special.

“Doesn’t Lily complain about that? I know Alice is annoyed by my sleep mumbling.” Frank asked after taking another sip of his whiskey, now having finished his glass. “Anyways, off to bed.”

James didn’t reply. Truth was; he and Lily hadn’t slept in the same bed for weeks. This was due to a combination of them not staying in the same house and just not… wanting to sleep next to each other. It wasn’t as if they fought more than they did when they slept in the same bed, it was just- they decided to sleep separately for one night and it stayed like that.

He didn’t tell anyone, he’d always just go up last and then take the one empty room upstairs instead of joining Lily. It hurt him, in a way, when he had to walk past her bedroom door. Knowing their son was in there, knowing they should be sleeping in the same bed. It felt just as wrong to do so as it felt not to do so.

On his way up the stairs, he ran into Sirius’ open door. Sirius had spent some late nights staring out of his old bedroom window the past week. Remus was on a mission, something about trying to convince the werewolves to switch sides. It had been hard on Sirius, not knowing whether Remus was alright. He wasn’t allowed to contact him, in any way shape or form. Moody had been very strict about it.

“You alright Pads?” James asked, shuffling through the room where he joined Sirius at the window, the clammy summer air of the night blowing over him. It had been unusually warm for London that summer.

Sirius didn’t reply, he just sighed, a cloud of smoke coming out of his nose and blowing back into his own face.

James nodded, turning his gaze from his friend to the street. There weren’t any people walking around, and if there were, no one would notice them. Grimmauld place was the most protected safe house they’d ever stayed in. That’s why they took residence there as soon as possible.

Soon after Walburga died, Sirius found out he was indeed still written in their will. That alone took a whole crisis with it, knowing Sirius and his unresolved trauma around his youth. Aside from that, it hurt even more because Sirius couldn’t shake the thought that this house should’ve been Regulus’.

Regulus was supposed to live there, he was supposed to inherit Grimmauld Place 12. He was supposed to be the perfect heir, to carry all their family history with him, to be there when their mother died. Sirius wasn’t even supposed to have any feelings over his deceased mother, or his deceased brother. He thought he was ready for it, ready to start his life without carrying the burden of any Blacks in his life.

He was wrong. Merlin, was Sirius wrong. His brother dying was something he would’ve never been ready for. Something no one could’ve prepared him for and something no one could console him for. No one understood, he always thought. No one he knew had the same kind of dynamic he and Regulus had.

“I hate this house.” Sirius whispered, his voice heavy with emotional weight.

James bit his lip, turning back to Sirius with a compassionate look in his eyes. “I know, I’m sorry.” He said, and he meant it.

Sirius let out a humorless laugh, another puff of smoke blowing back into their faces. “I can’t believe how quiet it is.” He said, turning his eyes to James. “It was never quiet back in the day, there was always someone screaming, piano playing, important guests over.”

“You almost sound like you miss it.” James noted, because it really did sound like that.

“I miss him, Prongs, of course I do.” Sirius said, quickly. “I miss the way we were when we were young, the way it could’ve been if things had ended… different.”

Sirius wasn’t the only one who had a difficult time thinking about Regulus Black in that way. In that ‘what it’ kind of way. James had a history with him as well. A history he never told Sirius about, a history that could very well mean the end of their friendship.

James loved Regulus.

No one knew this, though it wouldn’t have been very hard for someone to figure it out. James didn’t love hidden in dark corners and stolen glances. James loved out loud.

He loved him out loud.

He never got to tell him that, it was the thing that broke him most. He never got to tell Regulus that he was the only one who his heart had ever truly belonged to. And he would never get to tell him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20: Grimmauld Place pt.2

The wards around Grimmauld Place 12 had changed.
Regulus could feel it the moment they apparated into the alley, hidden in the shadows between two buildings. The house itself was still concealed, only the magic around it was… different. It felt less dark, less violent, less aggressive. It didn’t feel familiar, it felt complex, layered. This wasn’t the magic his mother had once placed over the house. No, someone had taken over.

Someone who wasn’t a Black.

He didn’t say anything, though the others felt his change in attitude towards the mission. All of a sudden, Regulus wasn’t afraid to face his mother. He was afraid to find someone other than his mother in his childhood home.

It was a bit humorous, the fact that he once hoped to come home and not find his mother there. Now, after not having seen Walburga for- well, half a year already, he wished his mother was still in there. Not because he wanted to see her, or because he missed her. Nothing like that, of course not. The thing is, if it were his mother in there; Regulus would know what to do. He knew his mothers weaknesses, her strengths, the way she fought and thought.

They were prepared for Walburga.

It was late at night, around 11PM. The streets were empty, though that never meant they weren’t being watched. Their masks were strapped tightly to their faces, hoods raised over their heads and robes neatly covering whatever could betray them.

“Something’s different.” Evan spoke, stating the obvious.

Regulus swallowed harshly, he was unsure what to do. They had to find Kreacher and their best chance was Grimmauld place.

“I’m not sure what.” Regulus admitted, staring at the lack of a house number twelve between eleven and thirteen. “We have to go in.”

Barty frowned. “But we’ve not prepared for anything other than your mother.” He pointed out.

“If we’re prepared for my mother, we can handle anything. Trust me.”

--

James woke up from a deep sleep when he heard footsteps downstairs. His room was all the way at the top of the stairs, yet he could hear everything going on downstairs. At first he had assumed it was just the way the house was built, but he quickly found a zonko’s product hidden underneath the bed. It was an ear, connected through a wire to another ear which was placed behind a vent in the hallway downstairs.

He would have thrown it out, but he didn’t. He liked listening to other people talk while he fell asleep, it made him feel more human. Sometimes, especially with the war, he forgot other people were also human. He forgot even those death eaters fighting on the other side were humans, just people with families, a history, a life before the war.

“If he’s anywhere, it’ll be the room at the top of the stairs.” A voice spoke, softly but just loud enough for the ear to pick up. The voice wasn’t familiar, but it didn’t seem real either. Too deep and raspy, as if it had been altered.

James didn’t fully register this until the footsteps had already faded out and probably found the stairs; these weren’t order members.

In an instant, he ran for the door, clothed in only his boxers. He wasn’t sure where his legs were taking him until he found himself at Lily’s door where he softly clicked the door open to not scare off the people breaking in.

Harry, he thought. Protect Harry.

He immediately went for the crib, the creaking floorboards waking Lily in the process.

“James?” She asked, voice croaky from sleep.

James was already holding their sleeping baby as before he realized she had woken up. “Lily.” He whispered, somewhat relieved she was awake. He wanted to go and see who was infiltrating their safe house, to attack whoever dared to come close to his family and his friends.

“What are you doing?” Lily asked, confused, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Someone’s inside the house.” James whispered, walking over to her and putting Harry in her arms. “I don’t know why but they’re coming up the stairs.”

Lily cursed under her breath, going to stand up quickly but James stopped her.

“Don’t, I’ll go see. You take care of Harry.” He said. He sprinted out of the room before she could stop him.

He tried to be quiet as he rushed down the stairs with his wand in his hands, but the adrenaline left little room for that. He basically stumbled down the stairs, running into Remus halfway. James didn’t notice it was Remus at first and almost jinxed him when he fell against his back. No one could blame him, Remus did the exact same.

“James!” He shouted in a whisper. “Someone’s-”

“In the house, I know.” James replied quickly, “they’re coming up the stairs.”

“They’re in that room.” Remus whispered, pointing towards the room marked R.A.B. “They’re looking for the house elf.”

James frowned, his confusion wasn’t exactly dissolving with this knowledge. “Kreacher? Why?”

“Don’t know mate, been here about as long as you.” Remus replied. His remark was supposed to be snarky but the amount of nervousness in his voice dimmed that out.

They let the silence settle for a few seconds, neither of them knew how to react. This wasn't the first time they had to fight, face death eaters, enter into confrontation. But it had never been their safe house. No one had ever figured out a way to get to them when they were at their weakest. Unprepared, guards down and with everyone they loved around.

“Do we just go in?” James asked uncertainly, hoping Remus would have the answer.

Remus bit his lip. “No, they could have heard us already.” He decided. “Let them come to us.”

James nodded quickly, Remus was right. They had to wait for whoever was in there to come out, where they would run straight into their readied wands.

It didn’t take long before the footsteps on the aged wooden floor came closer and the door creaked open. First came a boot, followed by a death eater in robes.

Shit

A small part of James hoped, prayed he’d heard the voices wrong. That the people would just be order members, or a lost wizard or witch searching for shelter. Death eaters, again, weren’t new to him. Just- they called something in him, something dark and deep he wasn’t ready to announce yet.

The death eater wasn’t looking their way, they were looking back into the room. Another death eater followed close, and then a third. That was it, three death eaters. James’ breath hitched as his grip around his wand tightened. Remus kept still, already holding his wand as if it were an extension of his arm.

Three against two. They could do that.

Remus and James were hidden in the shadows, it took the death eater a few seconds to realize they had been caught. One of the death eaters looked up once all of them were out of the room.

“Fuck.” They, a male, cursed, quickly pulling his wand out of his robes. The other two death eaters turned to face whatever the first one had cursed at.

“Put down the wand.” Remus ordered, swinging his wand at the death eater.

He didn’t obey. Of course he didn’t, why would he? Wand to wand, same as gun to gun.

“Put it down, now.” James said it this time. And it worked.

The death eater seemed to hesitate for a second, then lowered his wand back into his robes. The way he moved, the way he gracefully slid his arm down, it reminded James of something- no, someone, it reminded him of a person.

Remus rolled his eyes to the side, eyeing James for a second before he shot the death eaters another threatening look. “Put your hands in the air.”

The first death eater did as he was told, the others seemed to have a bit more trouble with it.

“Really, we’re going to listen to him?” One of the other death eaters, also a male, asked. His tone was sharp, the words filling the silence like a blade flying through thin air.

“Do as you’re told, you stupid idiot.” The third death eater gritted through his teeth after also raising his hands into the air.

The last death eater finally obeyed, rolling his eyes into the mask, muttering some complaints under his breath.

“We mean no harm, we just need to find a house elf.” The death eater in the front spoke.

It only then dawned on James that the death eater seemed to have a hard time making eye contact. The other two were staring daggers at him, while the one in the front kept his gaze on the carpeted stairs.

“What do you want with Kreacher?” Remus asked, not lowering his wand or changing his stance.

None of the death eaters replied. They just stood there, waiting for the two order members to ask them any more questions.

The first death eater shifted on his feet, and then; something in James clicked. It wasn’t just the way this man moved. It was the way he stood and spoke as well. The aura he was radiating onto them, the way his presence filled the room.

James did know this person. But why, and who was it?

“How did you find this place?” Remus asked after the silence told him they weren’t going to answer his first question..

And neither were they going to answer that question. They stood in the same stance, just waiting with their hands in the air; almost as if they’d given up. Either that or they were telepathically discussing how to get out of the situation.

“Take off your masks.” James said, finally speaking after gathering his thoughts. It was going to eat at him for days, knowing he knew this person.

The two death eaters in the back looked at each other, surprised and- scared, almost. Most followers of he who must not be named were known, there weren’t a lot of undercover wizards or wizards working for him. Were these death eaters three of the few who were? Could they be ministry men? Or perhaps even order members? Was that how they knew where to find the house?

The first death eater snapped his head up after James ordered them to take their masks off, finally showing his masked face. The only feature visible were his eyes.

Before he could process this, that same death eater threw a curse at his feet, red sparks crackling as the floor splintered beneath them. James and Remus stumbled back against the wall, the impact throwing them out of balance.

Then the death eaters ran.

Remus cursed, quickly gathering himself and James at the same time, shoving his friend towards the stairs and forcing him to follow. They ran after them, only seeing the very ends of their robes with every corner they turned into the house.

They couldn’t hit them with any spells, the death eaters were too quick on their feet. They knew once those wizards were out of Grimmauld Place 12, they wouldn’t stand a chance. It would be too risky to even go outside in a hurry like that, it could give them away to so many more dark wizards keeping track of them.

Once they reached the hallway downstairs, they could only see the last death eater making their way out of the door before all three of them were gone. James and Remus had no answers, no idea why these people needed Kreacher, no idea how they found them.

James and Remus stopped at the doorpost, watching the death eaters turn another corner and disappear into the dark. They breathed heavily from both adrenaline and having run all the way down the stairs.

“Those were some fast death eaters.” Remus breathed, his chest rising as he brushed his hand through his messy hair. James nodded, leaning his back against the frame of the opened door, letting his head fall back. He couldn’t shake the eerie feeling he knew one of them.

Then it dawned on him.

Why the movements were so familiar to him. How the way this death-eater swung his wand felt like something he’d seen before, something that had made him feel things before. Why the fact this death eater had been in front of him seemed unreal, made him feel dizzy and nauseous. And why it, at the same time, gave him hope.

“Oh hell.” James said, out loud, though he hadn’t meant to.

His eyes. The sharp edged eyes which looked like stormy days over a dark lake, like angry oceans filled with passion. Those grey eyes, the eyes of someone he knew, someone he had known before. Someone he had loved before.

Remus put his hand on his friend's shoulder, shaking him back to reality. James flinched when he felt the warmth of Remus’ palm ghosting over his shirt.

“Let’s go back to bed Prongs.”

And around the corner of the darkened alleway, Regulus had to gather every fibre of restraint not to call his name.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: History

James and Regulus were never meant to happen. They weren’t supposed to fall for each other.

---
November 21st 1976

The shadow of the night never felt as dark at Hogwarts as it did back at home. At Grimmauld place, night meant silent cries from downstairs and flashes of curses finding their way through the crack of his door. He hated nights there, he loved nights at Hogwarts.

The astronomy tower was his favorite place to go. Filch never looked there. It was quiet, calm. Everything Regulus wanted but couldn’t get.

“Venus is supposed to look beautiful tonight.” A sudden voice interrupted the silence.

Any normal person would flinch, jump, be startled in some way. Regulus wasn’t any normal person.

“What are you doing here Potter?” He asked, keeping his eyes on the stars above them.

James smirked, sitting down beside Regulus, keeping a safe distance. “Saw you on the map.” He confessed, leaning back on his hands, posing as if he were sunbathing.

Regulus scoffed. “Of course you did.”

It wasn’t the first time James talked to him, nor the first time they had been alone together.

This was their first nightly encounter.

The first out of many to follow.

—
January 11th 1977

“Why did you have to punch Snape?” Regulus complained as he tended to the wounds on James’ back.

They were located in the prefect’s bathroom, James on the floor and Regulus placed elegantly on the edge of the massive bath. James was seated between Regulus’ legs, very aware of them touching, and hyper aware of the fact Regulus was touching his bare back.

“He made a comment.” James said, not elaborating any further.

Regulus sighed, turning to mend the last wound on his back. “I know he’s an ass, but he knows his spells. Be more careful.”

James turned around, breaking the spell the other boy was focussing on. He smirked, slyly. “You care about me.”

Regulus let out a scoff, but he didn’t deny it.

—
March 20th 1977

“Good game, Potter.” Regulus spoke, passing James before making his way into the changing room. Everyone had left already, Regulus had gotten caught up in training. They’d just finished a friendly game between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

James raised his eyebrows in confusion. Never before had Regulus Black told him good game. Nothing even close to it.

He turned around, marching into their changing room.

“What?” He asked once Regulus was in front of him. “What did you just say?”

Regulus smirked. He smirked. That killed James, he’d never seen Regulus be cocky like that.

“You were good.” He repeated,

James cocked his head, letting a small smile find its way to his lips. “Huh.”

—-
June 4th 1977

“You’re such an asshole, you know that right?” James yelled at Regulus, marching through the empty classroom.

“I didn’t know that. Enlighten me.” Regulus spoke, smoothly. His tone was sharp.

James pushed his hand through his as always messy hair, letting out a soft groan.

“You seem frustrated.” Regulus said, though he knew exactly that James was indeed frustrated and Regulus was the sole reason.

“I am!” James replied. “You’re frustrating me!”

“Why?” Regulus asked, trying not to crack under the tension.

“I say left, you say right. I say up, you say down. I say join the order, you say you have duties.”

Regulus grabbed his arm, making the brunette stop marching around and look at him. “Kiss me.”

James’ eyes widened. “What?”

“I say kiss me, what do you say?”

“Finally.” James breathed.

At least they found something they agreed on.

—
September 1st 1977

James wasn’t supposed to be there.

He wasn’t supposed to be in the Slytherin common room.

But that’s what made it so much more exciting. He wasn’t supposed to be with James, he wasn’t supposed to let James hold him, kiss him, let him get close.

But he wanted to. James was the only thing Regulus wanted and actually let himself have.

“James.” Regulus whispered, brushing his pale fingers through the said boy’s messy hair. “James, wake up.”

James made an annoyed sound, along with a shocky movement. “Five more minutes.” He mumbled.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but let a soft smile settle on his lips. “You can’t, we’ll get caught.”

“I don’t care.” James replied, snuggling his head further against Regulus’ lap, leaning into the hand brushing his hair.

“I think you will once Sirius finds out.” Regulus said, raising his eyebrows.

James groaned, but sat up with reluctance. “Why is he your brother?”

“Hey you decided to be his friend, I didn’t decide to be his brother.” Regulus countered.

“I have a thing for the Black family I guess.” James said, giving Regulus a cheeky smile.

Regulus blushed, looking up at James through his eyelashes. James’ hair was standing up at all sides, looking even more tousled than usual. “You look like you’ve been electrocuted.”

“Maybe you’ve got that much power over me.” James winked.

---
December 6th 1977

Regulus pushed James up against the wall, sliding his hands up from his waist to his neck and then into his soft hair. James let out a soft sound of agreement, tilting his head into the kiss, letting it roll against the wall.

They were in James’ dorm room, his friends were in Hogsmeade, getting supplies for their next big prank. James had made up an excuse about having to finish up some homework, then sneaked Regulus in underneath the invisibility cloak.

“You’re sure they’re not coming back soon?” Regulus asked, breathing heavily from the kiss, his hands still held up in James’ brown locks.

James nodded quickly, then turned them over so Regulus was against the wall. “Don’t worry so much, love.” He whispered before squeezing his waist. His finger slipped underneath Regulus’ shirt, sending shivers down to where his hand touched the pale skin.

Regulus hummed, pulling James closer by his blouse into another kiss. This one was harsher, more rough, more needy. It wasn’t a sweet peck, or a small kiss. This was eager. Regulus was eager for James. He needed to feel him, mouth to mouth, skin to skin.

James smirked into the kiss. He bit down on Regulus’ bottom lip, making the boy gasp which only invited James to deepen the kiss further. He dug his fingers into his waist, both his hands now having found their way underneath the shirt, brushing over Regulus’ ribs.

Regulus let out a shaky breath, letting his head fall back against the wall. He knew he shouldn’t let himself have this, he wasn’t allowed to experience any of the feelings going through his entire body; neither should he have any of the thoughts going through his head. But the moment James’ lips touched his neck, everything was on fire. His body, his brain, the room around them; the entire world.

He wasn’t allowed any of it, yet he couldn’t stop. There was not enough strength in the world to pull him away from the moment, from James’ lips on his skin, from the feeling of his hands in his hair.

“Merlin- James.” Regulus breathed out, taking a fistful of his hair as James moved his lips from his jaw to underneath his ears, down his neck all the way until his barely tied tie.

James -the mance- smiled against his neck. He knew exactly what he was doing to Regulus and he loved it. He pulled away for a bit, searching for Regulus' eyes, which were actively focussed on James’ lips.

Regulus didn’t let go of his hair, never. It was keeping him grounded, the only was he was still standing up and not melting into a puddle on the wooden floor. The atmosphere of the room was intense, more intense than it had ever been before.

“Say my name again.” James spoke softly, moving his hands to rest high on Regulus’ hips, just above his trousers. The way he spoke was almost as if he was challenging the other boy to do so, daring him to find out what would happen if he did.

Regulus’ grey eyes turned dark as a dark smirk found its way to his lips. He bit into it, holding the edge of his bottom lip between his teeth with the corners of his mouth still curled up.

“James.”

They locked eyes for a second, feeling the intensity of the moment, seeing it in each other's eyes. Their breathing was heavy, out of sync, open mouthed and hot.

With a soft sound of surprise from Regulus, James picked him up smoothly, placing himself between the boy’s legs and inviting him to lock his around his waist. He smashed his back against the wall, making the black haired boy let out a soft groan. He didn’t care anymore, if it hurt, neither did Regulus. It wasn’t a priority at that moment.

Nothing aside from them, mouth to mouth, skin to skin.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22: Deal with it

“Fuck, shit, stupid mission.” Regulus cursed as he aggressively kicked around the gravel surrounding the campfire.

They had just gotten back from their near miss with the order and were still a bit shaken up by the experience. Barty and Evan weren’t nearly as stressed as Regulus was, though. The second they’d apparated back to their set camp, Regulus turned into someone unrecognizable.

“That must’ve been hard for you, seeing your ex boyfriend barely clothed.” Barty said, teasingly, he hadn’t noticed the look in Regulus’ eyes yet. If he had, he definitely wouldn’t have joked.

Evan and Barty were still a bit out of breath from running their lungs out; Regulus wasn’t. He looked collected at first, aside from the kicking and cursing.

After Barty made his remark, Regulus snapped his neck towards him, almost immediately threatening him with his wand. “Shut. up.” He said, very carefully as he stepped closer and pressed his wand into his friend’s neck, right into his artery.

“Wow Reg, don’t do that.” Evan jumped in. He wanted to shove Regulus back, so that he wasn’t in a stance where he could kill Barty with a simple spell. Regulus was wearing the locket, though, so he decided not to touch him. That would only make things worse.

When Regulus turned to Evan, his eyes were on fire. It was an unusual look on him, as Regulus was usually the collected one of the group. If he got angry, his eyes would darken, rather than glow red. He looked venomous, like a snake sissing its tongue, ready to attack its prey.

He didn’t lower his wand. If anything, he pressed it even tighter against Barty’s neck. Barty looked scared. This was a weird look, very much in contrast to his usual cocky demeanor.

During their mission, they didn’t find what they were looking for. They did however find something else. Evan did, at least. He noticed it when they came in; a tiny coat on the coat rack in between a bunch of bigger coats. That could’ve been anyone’s, right? It wasn’t. There was a label hanging from the neck of it.

‘Harry James Potter’

Evan knew Regulus wasn’t just crashing out because of the mission failing, or because he encountered his former lover. No, this was bigger, he had to have seen it. Evan wasn’t sure if he was going to say it, but there was no reason to hold it in. Regulus would know eventually, and rather one night of crazy Regulus than multiple.

“You noticed, didn’t you?” He asked carefully, still looking into Regulus’ burning eyes.

Regulus didn’t respond, but his stance changed, and that change spoke more than paragraphs of actual words would. His eyes went from a burning sort of anger to an overflowing ocean, filling with actual tears faster than they could think. He lowered his wand and let himself fall, both mentally and physically.

He sank to the ground just as quickly as he had almost attacked Barty. He wrapped his arms around his knees and suddenly, just for once, he looked so small. He wasn’t crying, though he didn’t seem far from it.

Barty and Evan stood still in the shadow of the crackling fire, watching their friend break down in a way they had never witnessed before. Even though they never had seen it, Regulus broke down in a very, well, Regulus way. He didn’t shake, didn’t make any sounds, his hair still sat as elegantly collected on his forehead as always.

“So, you saw it?” Evan asked again, careful, but eager to get Regulus to talk.

Regulus let out a choked laugh. It was humourless, empty.

“Saw it?” He echoed. He finally looked up at Evan. His eyes were glassy, wild, not on fire anymore but filled with something between devastation and exhaustion. “Oh I saw it; I felt it. In the way he walked, spoke, looked.”

Barty swallowed. He could still feel the slight dent on his neck where Regulus was pushing his wand against just minutes ago, and yet?-- This was way worse. He had seen Regulus angry before but never this. He had never seen him grieve before.

“I don’t even know why I care.” Regulus went on, his voice wasn’t as smooth and deep as usual, it was croaky, tired.

Evan sighed. He carefully crouched down next to Regulus, getting eye to eye.

“You know, Reg, it’s okay to feel.” He said, not unkindly. “You’re allowed to mourn, to be angry, to be sad.”

Regulus looked at him in the eyes, his own softening as Evan spoke to him. He tapped his fingers against his legs, somewhat nervously. “I don’t think I am.”

Evan frowned. “Why is that?”

Regulus scoffed, breaking eye contact and converting it towards the fire. “It’s not his fault he moved on.” He said, softer. “I’m the one who became a death eater, why should I get to mourn?”

“Because you’re human?” Barty jumped in, a bit taken aback by Regulus’ reasoning.

Usually, Barty would be the last person to tell someone to feel something. But he’s grown a lot since they started their mission. He still wasn’t the most touchy feely person, but he did know he wanted his friends to feel alright.

“A terrible one.” Regulus whispered. He didn’t look at either Barty or Evan, everywhere but them. He knew that the second he saw them feeling sorry for him he would either burst out in anger or tears.

“Maybe you weren’t a terrible person?” Evan asked, though it almost sounded like a suggestion. “Maybe you were just sixteen and got your heart broken.”

Regulus wasn't ready for that one. He let out a sharp exhale, tightening his grip around his legs, pinching his nails into the fabric of his robes. He hoped grounding himself like that would stop the way his chest ached.

“That doesn’t change anything.” He murmured. “It doesn’t change what I did, or what he did. Or-” His breath hitched, he shook his head and stopped talking.

“No it doesn’t.” Barty admitted, crouching down next to Evan to get on eye level. “But he’s just saying you were young. We’ve all been young.”

“You’re allowed to feel.” Evan added, his gaze quickly finding Barty’s before going back to Regulus. “Allowed to share. We might not have been there for each other at Hogwarts but we’re in this together right now. Don’t try to carry it all alone because once it gets too heavy, all of us are affected.”

Regulus let out a bitter laugh. “You’re one to talk.”

Evan smirked, but there was no real humor behind it. “Yeah, well, I’ve got my moments.”

There was a small silence. Both Evan and Barty let themselves sink down all the way to the ground, properly sitting down opposite Regulus.

“Do you two ever regret the people you’ve dated?” Regulus asked, staying on the subject but making it a bit lighter for himself. He was sure that if they would keep talking about James, he would actually just cry.

Barty raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re asking me?” He asked, almost amused. “You do remember my nickname at Hogwarts?”

“Barty ‘no strings’ Crouch.” Evan said, doing the air quotes with his fingers, then turning to Barty with a kind of disgusted look. “You’re an animal, Crouch.”

“You’re just jealous.” Barty said, winking at Evan, his cocky demeanor had made a comeback.

Evan wanted to make a snarky remark, but he didn’t. He just- blushed.

“Alright then, did you ever regret the people you liked at Hogwarts?” Regulus rephrased his question. He wasn’t amused by Barty’s -what he probably thought was- bragging.

“Yes.” Evan answered immediately. He didn’t even think about the fact he had to explain himself, if he would have thought for a few more seconds, he would’ve kept his mouth shut.

Barty smirked. “That was fast.” He noted, leaning back with his arms behind him, his palms against the dirt. “Who?’

Evan rolled his eyes.”I’m not telling you.” He said, then turned to Regulus. “Why would you ask that, Reg? You don’t regret Potter, right?”

Regulus sighed, looking down into his lap. He had relaxed a bit and wasn’t holding his legs in a deathgrip anymore.

“I don’t know.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 23: Kreacher

It had been raining for days in the most northern parts of Scotland. Though rain wasn’t something they couldn't handle, the fact their clothes kept getting wet would eventually get them sick. The three men had been walking for hours. Their boots were muddy, coats were soaked and there was no place in sight where they could set camp.

Their routine had gone the same for the past few weeks: set camp, research -by either reading books or just plainly thinking-, eat, sleep, repeat. And they would change camp every three days. One day longer and they could be detected by either the order or the ministry.

“Why couldn’t we pick a less rainy country to travel through?” Barty had complained as he kicked a puddle of water in Evan’s way.

No one had replied. Evan was wearing the locket, which was something they didn’t even really think about anyone. Sure, the locket still haunted them sometimes, but they had gotten significantly more used to it compared to the beginning. The only thing the locket still did to all of them was making them grumpy.

Barty never liked silences-- they left way too much space to think. He turned to annoying the others the second his thoughts started eating on him.

“Would you rather.” He started, sprinting a few steps to walk in between Regulus and Evan. “Snog Snape or spend an entire month sharing a bed with Moody.”

It wasn’t the first time Barty asked a random question to fill up the silence. It was, however, the first time he asked something that unhinged.

Evan almost tore his muscle snapping his neck towards the smirking man next to him. “Barty.” He said, just his name, with a warning tone.

“Rosier.” Barty winked. “What? Answer the question.”

“I would definitely snog Snape.” Replied Regulus, which was totally out of character for him.

Usually when Barty would ask one of his weird questions, it ended with Barty and Evan discussing it -often annoyed-, and Regulus quietly walking along.

Barty and Evan were equally surprised, both turning their heads towards the Black haired man.

“Alright, care to elaborate?” Evan asked with raised eyebrows, suddenly very interested in the conversation.

Regulus shrugged. He hadn’t even looked up from where his gaze was fixed on the soggy grass. “Just heard he’s a fine snog.”

“From who?” Barty asked, getting more and more intrigued as the seconds went. His smirk had turned into a big smile, very pleased to get this information. Especially from Regulus.

“James.” Regulus answered shortly, not amused at all.

Evan almost choked on his spit. “Did he-”

“No!” Regulus replied quickly, finally looking up at them with a disgusted look on his face. “That would’ve been disgusting.”

“How would Potter know then?” Barty asked.

“Snape used to date Evans.” Regulus said, then he went back to staring at the ground in front of him.

Barty started laughing, then looked at Evan who just looked shocked. “So Potter got Snape’s leftovers?” Barty asked, still laughing a bit.

Evan smacked the back of his head with disapproval on his face. “Crouch, you’re disgusting.”

“Hey, don’t hit me-”

Regulus stopped dead in his tracks, snapping his head towards the tree beside him. He’d heard something. A whisper, a voice, something very soft but something he clearly recognized. The others didn’t notice he had stopped, they were too busy bickering like an old married couple.

Regulus grabbed his wand out of his pocket, his grip tightening around it. He didn’t even bother to call Evan and Barty, taking a step closer to the direction of the voice.

“...Master Regulus.” The whisper sounded again. It was faint but Regulus knew that voice.

His breath caught in his throat. He moved without thinking, reaching around the tree, ready to attack in case it was a trap. He moved over the roots, careful not to slip on the soaked mud covering the forest floor. He moved over a few branches with his free hand.

Then he saw him, his heartbeat quickened.

There, in the shadowed space between the trees, stood Kreacher. Frail, small, hunched over in the rain.

The elf looked awful. His normally wrinkly skin sagged more than usual, his ears were drooping. His large eyes were watery, heavy with deep purple bags and filled with something Regulus did not want to name. His ragged pillowcase hung over his shivering frame, soaked from the plunging rain.

For a moment, none of them spoke. Until Regulus finally came back to his senses. His throat was dry despite the constant rain dripping from his forehead, along his eyes straight to the crack of his lips.

“Kreacher.” He said finally, voice low. It was almost as if he had to say it, as if that would be the only way to confirm the elf was actually standing in front of him.

The house elf trembled. His bony fingers were clutching at his chest, almost as if he was holding something inside by force. “Master Regulus.” The elf said again, this time with more certainty, and Regulus felt something inside him break.

A sharp breath came from behind him-- Evan and Barty had finally noticed.

“What the fuck?” Barty muttered, taking a step closer to where Regulus was standing to get on the same eyelength with the elf as him.

Evan also stepped closer, his eyebrows furrowed. “Is that--”

Regulus wasn’t paying any attention to them. The house elf was all he had eyes for. He had so many questions, so many things to tell him. But most importantly; so much worry. He stepped closer to the house elf, crouching down next to him. His knee leaned on a soaked blanket of leaves but he couldn’t care less about that.

He ignored the rain trickling down his face, ignored the tightness in his chest. “Kreacher.” He repeated, softer this time.

The house elf let out a broken sound. “Master… mistress is gone.”

Regulus stilled.

Suddenly, the world seemed too loud. The rain around them had never made as much noise as in that moment. Regulus’ heart pounded in his ears. “What?” He asked sharply, hoping he’d misunderstood.

Kreacher’s lips quivered, his eyes filled with a kind of pain Regulus had never seen before, he looked up at him. “Mistress is gone,” he choked out. “Mistress is dead.”

Then the world stopped spinning altogether. Nothing felt real anymore for a few seconds. His own existence, Kreacher’s presence, his friends freaking out behind him, everything was gone.

His mother. The woman who gave him life, raised him, loved him. The witch that made him feel miserable, not worthy, weak. The one person he couldn’t make his mind up about. The reason he kept himself from fighting for the greater good, the reason he was even stuck in this mission in the first place.

The woman that, no matter how he behaved, always told him he was the perfect pure blood son.

But then, she was also the woman who tortured Sirius. The one who made him leave the house, disowned him as her son. She was a toxic human being, a true Black.

She was gone, that’s what she was.

“Since when.” Asked Regulus, his soft tone had disappeared; he just wanted answers now.

Kreacher didn’t expect that reaction, he expected tears, probably. He did see Regulus cry quite often back in the day, maybe the elf though he hadn’t changed.

Deep inside, Regulus did want to cry. He wanted to scream. Because it was unfair, wasn’t it? He never even got to tell his mother he was still alive. She died, thinking that her son did before her. She went expecting to find him in the afterlife and he wouldn’t be there.

“Master Regulus, Kreacher is not sure.” The elf said, his frame folded even smaller after hearing Regulus’ pursuing tone.

Evan put his hand on Regulus’ shoulder, startling the man back to reality. They were standing in the open woods, drenched in rain, uncovered. They needed to get somewhere dry and safe before they got either sick or discovered.

“Lets set camp somewhere, then interrogate him.” Evan suggested, calmly. He had to act delicate with Regulus in this situation, he knew that. This was the final strike to an unhealed wound that had been ripped open over and over again.

Regulus didn’t speak, he just nodded at the house elf, gesturing to him to follow. Without a sound he started walking again, making sure to keep a few steps ahead of the others.

Kreacher followed closely behind him, still shivering and quivering. He was having a much harder time keeping quiet, whimpering and sobbing every few seconds.

Evan and Barty walked side by side as they both kept a close look on their friend.

“I don’t know what to say to him.” Barty said to Evan, quietly, making sure Regulus couldn’t hear.

Evan scoffed. “Why? Because one of the most complicated people on earth just lost the most complicated relationship in his life?” He asked, obviously ironic. “We might need to let him sit this one out.”

Barty squinted his eyes, thinking. “Yes.” He said. “Or, we get wasted and high.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 24: Nights like these

Walburga, it turned out, had passed away due to health issues. It was a relief for Regulus to hear she went without much unnecessary pain, peacefully in her sleep. Knowing his mother, he expected her to be killed by someone who disagreed with her, so this was definitely the better of two negatives.

Kreacher had a hard time explaining everything that happened. He kept crying, weeping, shutting down entirely. He refused to talk to anyone that wasn’t Regulus, ignored everything Evan and Barty asked. No one could blame him, there usually wasn’t that much attention for house elves from wizards.

After Kreacher had told everything, Regulus had calmed down a bit. He was still… dealing with it, to say the least, but he was able to keep himself grounded. He even remembered to ask Kreacher if he knew about Dobby, which meant they did get something good out of the encounter,

The house elf had refused to answer at first, hitting himself in the head with a shoe as he said no to Regulus.

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, especially not now that his feelings were high.

“I’m the only rightful heir to the house of Black, Kreacher. You will either obey me or I will release you.” He’d told him, making the house elf scared for his life. Threatening to release Kreacher was the biggest offense you could do to him, even worse than threatening to kill him.

Dobby the house elf was assigned to Lucius Malfoy.

That wasn’t exactly what the three men were hoping for. Malfoy mansion was one of the most secure places in the wizarding world at the moment. It might even be as secure as the dark lord’s mansion.

Regulus had given Kreacher very clear instructions on what to do after he told them everything. He had ordered the house elf to go to Grimmauld Place, help the order in whatever they needed him for and not. say. a word about him being alive.

Kreacher didn’t want to, that was clear on his whole face. The house elf had always served the dark side, Walburga being his favorite mistress of all the Blacks. Having to serve the side his former mistress had always been so firmly against was going to be a challenge for the poor elf. He did as he was told, however, not wanting to deny Regulus again.

After Kreacher left, Evan made a quick run to the small town close to their camp. They had reached the very top of Scotland, where the temperatures had dropped significantly. It might’ve been summer, but it surely didn’t feel like it.

Barty and Regulus got a fire started after the rain finally stopped pouring and the skies cleared a bit, revealing the stars for the first time in days.

Evan came back with dinner; a celebration of their new knowledge. He’d gotten them proper meat, potatoes and vegetables, a meal they could use after a day like theirs. It wasn’t just food he brought, though. He had taken up Barty's suggestion to drink the feelings away and found them some whiskey. The muggle stores didn’t sell any firewhiskey so regular had to do the job.

Their dinner was served and eaten before they could blink. They were hungry, they were always hungry.

The whiskey was quickly opened and passed around without many words being spoken. Only after a few sips, Barty started talking.

“How’re you holding up Reg?” He asked, watching the said man down a big sip of the liquor.

Regulus passed the bottle down to Evan, turning to Barty. He looked small, less- confident than usual. It looked weird, it wasn’t how Regulus wasn’t supposed to look. He was always so self assured, stood his ground and always aware.

He shrugged, letting his gaze fall back down to the fire. “I guess I should be relieved.”

Evan frowned. “Why is that?” He asked, his eyes also on Regulus together with Barty’s.

Regulus let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Because she was a horrific woman.” He said, resting his chin on top of his knees.

“She was still your mother.” Evan said, unsure if that made any difference. He didn’t get a lot of time with his mother himself, so this wasn’t really a subject he could relate to. When his mother died, he cried for days. It wasn’t as… blank, as Regulus’ reaction. Not that Evan judged him for it.

“I guess we’re all motherless now, huh?” Barty spoke up before Regulus could react. “at least that’s something we can bond over.”

Regulus tipped his head to the side, eying Barty at the same time Evan did.

“Your mother is dead as well?” Evan asked with a frown.

Barty shrugged. “I think so.” He said, his voice lacked its usual bite.

Truth was, Barty wasn’t sure if his mother was still alive. She could be, she had been sick since he was very young but she just didn’t let go that easily. When he faked his death, he was scared that might’ve been the thing that sent her over the edge. She did always say she wanted to see him grow up, maybe she got her peace with it now that he was allegedly dead.

“That sucks.” Regulus said, grabbing the bottle from Evan again and downing it into his mouth. “I guess it’s nice that we have each other, then?”

Evan let a small smirk fall onto his lips. “Wow Reg, sentimental much?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, turning back to the fire.

“My mother used the cruciatus curse on Sirius once.” He said, more quietly. He brushed his finger through the wet sand surrounding the ground he was seated on. “Kind of traumatic.”

“Kind of.” Evan repeated with a scoff, passing the whiskey bottle to Barty again.

“My father used the imperius curse on me.” Barty said before taking a gulp. “I thought it was normal until we learned about unforgivables in sixth year.”

Evan gaped at him. Full blown, mouth wide open and eyes big. “That long?” He asked, flabbergasted.

Barty shrugged. It was that kind of big reaction, that was the reason he never talked about it. Well, together with the fact he didn’t think his problems would matter to anyone. Why would they?

“Your youths were way worse than mine.” Evan said after Barty didn’t show much more of a response.

The other two didn’t really say anything to that. They just looked at each other, at the same time. There was a kind of understanding neither of them had felt before. A kind of deep going connection that no one but them would understand.

Evan let them, quietly sipping on the whiskey as he sat. He may not have understood exactly what was going through their heads, but he did know when to keep his mouth shut. An ability Barty could learn from.

He brought something more than food and alcohol back from the store. When he walked in, the first thing his eyes wandered off to were the cigarettes. He wasn’t sure why, maybe because he felt a big conversation coming up or because he knew they would be drinking. And lucky for them, he had taken just enough muggle money to get a pack.

The silence made him remember and the timing seemed right. He reached into his backpack, taking out the pack and his wand.

Barty immediately reacted. “What do we have here then?” He asked, even though he knew exactly what they were. Evan threw the pack at him after taking out one himself.

They both turned to Regulus, Barty holding the pack between two fingers as if to say; ‘you in?’

“If you two are smoking, I’m sleeping.” Regulus said, quickly, and he was gone before anyone could even react. Regulus hated the smell of smoke. It’s one of the reasons he disliked parties and social gatherings. Emphasis on one of the reasons. It might also have came hand in hand with the fact James Potter himself also hated it.

Evan knew Barty used to smoke quite a lot. He didn’t know how often exactly but he did know Barty would never come back late at night without smelling like tabacco. Evan wasn’t a smoker, he disliked the taste of it. But, a drink in his left hand and a cigarette in his right never hurt.

“Oh Rosier, I love you.” Barty breathed out a laugh as he spoke. He took the cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, holding it as if it was an old habit. It was, actually, an old habit of his. He never smoked in front of his friends though, he only did it alone. Or, occasionally, with someone he’d slept with. Those always hit the hardest.

He still remembered the cigarette he smoked after sleeping with Marlene Mckinnon. She smoked like a chimney, always had a cigarette in her hand, didn’t matter if she smoked it or just let it smolder between her fingers. There was something about leaning over out of an opened window in just underwear, smoking, that just felt… calming.

Not that he missed it, he was actually glad he’d gotten rid of his silly addiction. It felt childish to him, to be so dependent on a piece of paper with nicotine inside of it.

Evan blushed, which wasn’t really visible to the others due to their hazy visions and the lack of light. “Shut up.” He said, quietly, taking a drag from the filter.

He didn’t mean that. For some reason, he actually wanted to hear it again, and again, and- why?

He was supposed to be over him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25: Are you afraid?

‘How do we get into Malfoy manor’ was a question that sat between the three men for a couple days. That, along with figuring out how to do it without being seen were the only things on their minds.

Regulus knew Malfoy mansion from the inside. The inner circle of death eaters, a small group of the dark lord's followers who were trusted with just a bit more information than regular death eaters, often had meetings in the residence. It wasn’t the same, or even comparable to breaking into Grimmauld Place.

The spells around the mansion weren’t any different. They may even have been weaker than the ones around Regulus’ childhood home. The big difference was the fact that the dark lord had managed to get the dementors of Azkaban on his side. No one knew exactly how, but the deeper and further the war went, the more followers the dark lord managed to collect.

It was another regular night by the fire which they all sat around, exhausted, drained. They just finished a debate on whether they should move tonight or stay a second night. Their stays were getting shorter, the need to keep moving outweighing any desire to rest. The fact that first Dobby and the Kreacher had tracked them down reminded them they weren’t as hidden as they sometimes hoped.

They had decided on staying another night, traveling in the dark would only bring more risks with it.

“I honestly think we can do it.” Evan spoke up after the silence had settled for a bit too long. He had started taking up after Barty, disliking the silences that made him think too much. “Get into the manor.”

Barty scoffed. “Right, and I think this bottle will grow wings and fly away.” He said, sarcastically, taking a sip of water out of said bottle.

“We know how to defeat those dementors, we know the spells around the mansion and we can definitely defend ourselves. Why don’t we do it then?” Evan said, counting their advantages on his fingers.

Barty shrugged, pretending not to care. Evan turned to Regulus. “What do you think?”

Regulus sighed. “I think we need more time.” He said. “We can’t just dive into this, we need a plan.”

“I’ll give you a plan then.” Evan said. Regulus let out a hollow laugh. “I’m serious, I’ll draw a map, I can do that.”

“Go to bed, Evan.” Regulus said, completely dismissing his suggestions, going back to staring at the fire.

“What are you scared of, Black?” Evan asked, squinting his eyes as he tried to read the expression on Regulus’ face.

Regulus peaked his head back up, frowning at the blonde who was clearly challenging him. “What am I- well, I don’t know Rosier. Dying, maybe?”

Barty decided to join in. “Since when?” He asked, his eyebrows raised in suspicion. He didn’t have much faith that they would survive the mission ahead, but he couldn’t remember a time Regulus Black had been afraid to die.

Sure, Regulus was calculated, but never afraid.

“I’m going to bed.” Regulus said, almost standing up.

Then Evan said something that almost forced him to speak.

“You’re afraid we will die, aren’t you?” It was a bold question, bold to assume Regulus cared for them in that way. Bold, but true, and they all knew it.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but he didn’t move. He didn’t go to bed, he didn’t get up, he didn’t even try to get out of the conversation. “I hate you.” He said, a defense mechanism he often used when things got too real.

Barty let out a genuine chuckle. “You love us.” He said, the chuckle left an annoying smirk lingering on his lips.

“Shut up.”

Barty and Regulus shared an annoyed look that triggered Barty to go and annoy Regulus even further. Something he was quite good at, actually, getting on Regulus’ nerves.

Evan wanted to listen to their bickering, to blend into the conversation and laugh with them. He really wanted to, but his attention was gone the minute Barty let that chuckle slip out of him. He couldn’t grasp why, but something about the way Barty laughed made him dizzy. There was something about it that hit his ears just right, that tingled his brain in a way he’s only felt while high.

He didn’t even know he was staring until his name was called.

“Evan!” It was Regulus who snapped him out of it, made him shake his head and return to earth.

“What?” He asked, maybe a bit too harsh. The feeling from before made it so not a thought could cross his mind, he didn’t appreciate being pulled out of his prematurely.

Barty crossed his arms. “Where’s your mind Rosier?” He asked.

“Plan.” Evan said shortly, trying to avoid eye contact with Barty. He was a bad liar, he knew his friends could see right through if they saw his eyes.

“You need a cigarette.” Barty decided, reaching into his bag before Evan could even react.

Regulus groaned as he stood up in a quick motion. “Alright then, goodnight.”

The pack Evan had gotten them wasn’t empty yet. It had only been a few days, but still, Barty was quite proud of himself for it. He held out one for Evan.

“I’m okay, thanks.” Said Evan, still watching the fire.

Barty tried to look for a sign of emotion on Evan’s face but he just couldn’t find it. Evan already wasn’t someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, and the fact that it was dark didn’t help. Barty didn’t like the way Evan looked. He seemed so… blank.

He lit a cigarette for himself, taking a drag before he let it smoulder between his fingers.

“How many horcruxes do you think we have left?” He asked after a few seconds of silence.

Barty wanted to ask how Evan was feeling, but he knew that if he did the blonde might just shut himself down further. For being the most emotionally advanced one of the group, he could actually keep his feelings down quite well.

Evan let out a soft laugh, though there was no humor behind it. “I keep hoping we’re about to find the last one.” He said, then turned his gaze up to meet Barty’s eyes. “I doubt we’re even halfway there though.”

Barty pursed his lips, the cigarette still smoldering between his fingers, untouched since the first drag.

“I think there’s six.” He said. “The dark lord is a perfectionist.”

Evan frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?” He asked.

“Seven is the perfect number. There’s seven years at Hogwarts, seven players in a quidditch team. Seven is linked to fate, prophecy, power. Something the dark lord would absolutely think of while making those damn things.” Barty explained, counting all the reasons on his fingers, the ash of the cigarette flying around him. “He wouldn’t just pick any number, he’s too dramatic. I think there’s seven parts of his soul; one inside of him and the other six in objects.”

Evan gaped at him. His eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. “That’s so fucking smart, Barty.” He said, clearly taken aback. “You’re a genius, that has to be it.”

Barty blushed ever so slightly, as he always did when Evan complimented him. “Yeah well don’t throw me a parade, we’re not even sure if that’s it.”

The two of them talked for a bit longer that night. Even after their exhaustion became too much, they kept the conversation going. And for the first time in weeks, they actually felt like the teenagers they used to be at school. Like they were supposed to be.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26: Malfoy Manor

Evan did as he promised. He made a plan.

It wasn’t the first time he’d made a plan, though the missions he usually planned didn’t have this much at stake. They had to quite literally crawl into the home of the enemy. The chance the dark lord would be present at Malfoy manor was frighteningly big.

He spent the whole night following up on his long conversation with Barty up by the fire. Pacing, mumbling strategies and ideas that would somehow get them throughout the mission without being seen.

It didn’t help that getting into Malfoy manor wasn’t the only thing on his mind. An even bigger part of his thoughts were dedicated to Barty Crouch Jr.

Yes, Evan had a little thing for him back at Hogwarts. He never told him, of course not, that would be crazy. Barty always got around, he was quite known for it and also way too proud of it. The nickname; Barty ‘no strings’ Crouch was given to him by himself, actually.

Them being in such close quarters, such as their safe house and even smaller tent, was bound to bring back feelings Evan had spent years pushing away. Barty was his best friend, and he still is. It never felt right to think of him in a romantic way.

Fourteen-year-old Evan Rosier didn’t really know how to handle his heart racing when his friend touched his shoulder or laughed at his jokes. You would think nineteen-year-old Evan would, but he just never learned.

It frustrated him to a point where he almost woke both his friends sleeping soundly in the tent. He should’ve been focussed on getting the plan straight and not on the way Barty seemed to lightly blush after Evan complimented him. Because Evan noticed.

But after hours of trying to set those feelings aside, he did it. The plan was set up on paper and both Regulus and Barty agreed with it.

The plan was solid. They went at night, the safest time because there would -hopefully- not be any meetings during midnight. Evan knew his cousin, Narcissa, had a baby before they went undercover. Little Draco Malfoy must’ve been about a year old by now which would make him the perfect age to have chronically tired parents who wouldn’t wake up unless they heard him cry.

After Regulus and Evan disabled the protective spells around the mansion as Barty made sure the dementors stayed back. Those creatures were attracted to fear, something Barty didn’t really feel a lot of. He never feared, only threw himself into dangerous situations and hoped for the best.

“Which is going to get you killed someday.” Evan had remarked as he was explaining the plan.

Barty was also able to produce the fullest patronus out of all of them. Evan could produce a fine one, but he never really practiced the spell any further than N.E.W.T.S necessary level. Regulus didn’t know the spell at all, which was something that was hard for him to admit as Regulus Black always wanted to be the best at everything he tried. He couldn’t have known the spell if he wanted, because he left Hogwarts in his sixth year. The patronus spell was seventh year material.

And just like that, they did it. They were in front of the giant black wooden doors of Malfoy manor. All of them looked at each other, a moment of hesitation together with a quick beat to catch their breathing.

“Are we sure we’ll be fine?” Barty asked, the only thing visible through his mask were his eyes. He didn’t seem nervous or anything, just… worried.

Evan’s breath caught in his throat as he tried to ground himself. “Just follow the plan.” Was all he could get out before Regulus unlocked the door with a quick spell and it creaked open.

The squeaky sound of the door sliding in its hinges was deafening through the silence. They made their way in as quickly as they could, the door closing between them with a soft click.

Once inside, they were met with an eerily cold sensation that could only originate from very dark magic. It was the feeling they got in the cave with the locket, and then in Little Hangleton with the ring. The diary had to be there but where.

The rest of the plan relied on Regulus’ knowledge of the place. He knew his way around but he also didn’t know where the diary could be. A study would be the most probable location, but the dark lord wasn’t predictable like that. Clever, calculated and proud, but never predictable.

Rule one of their mission; don’t speak. Malfoy manor didn’t just house the Malfoys; it also accommodated staff, servants and a house elf. Not to forget the fact that death eaters such as Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband, Mulciber, people who would definitely recognize Regulus even while he hid under his death eater mask. They didn’t need anyone hearing them and checking to see who’s up at midnight.

Evan and Barty barely had time to register the fact that they were actually inside Malfoy manor or the mission had officially started. Regulus pointed towards them, and then to a hallway left of the entrance. He had explained the layout of Malfoy manor in short when Evan explained the plan so they knew what the rooms they were supposed to search in that hallway. Regulus himself went into the hallways opposite of theirs, giving his two friends a solid nod before smoothly turning on his feet and leaving them together.

All three of them went and looked, searching every single room where the diary could lay; only skipping kitchens and bathrooms. The dark lord was unpredictable, but he was classy in some way. The diary would be in a place which wouldn't be obvious but it would be thoroughly thought through.

They searched quickly, leaving a room the minute they didn’t sense the horcrux close. They couldn’t afford to stay inside the mansion for hours on end. Eventually, someone would have to get up and notice them or their presence.

The hallways downstairs were quickly dismissed as a no, there was no horcrux anywhere in those rooms. They had to look upstairs, closer to danger but more likely for the diary to be hidden.

Evan and Barty were paired together again by Regulus and ordered to search the left side of the first floor as he searched the right. This wasn’t something they had discussed but honestly, Evan didn’t mind. He felt just a little less lost knowing Barty was probably feeling exactly the same.

The first few rooms were studies, a library, and a bedroom which was luckily empty. Then they walked into an empty room. All empty except for a small, fallen bed in the corner and a single dirty sink next to it. It looked similar to a prison cell, only its inmate was missing. Or they thought so at least.

Barty walked in first, his eyes widened as he stepped a couple feet into the room and noticed the bed was not entirely empty. Dobby. He made sure not to make any sound as Evan walked in behind him. He tried to warn him, but to no extent. Evan gasped, loudly, but it was luckily cut short by Barty clasping his hand over the blonde’s mouth.

The look in Barty’s eyes was piercing, a warning written behind them. Evan couldn’t focus on that; he could only notice the way Barty was standing no more than a few inches away from him, and forcing him to press his lips against his skin. His heartbeat quickened, not because Dobby was sleeping so close to them a breath could wake him, but because the look in Barty’s eyes changed. His hand slowly dropped down from Evans mouth but he didn’t step away, he kept watching.

Evan wanted to speak, to tell him to move on and back out. To continue the mission. He wasn’t strong like that. Not when the man he’d spent all of the night prior thinking about had that look in his eyes.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27: The Diary

On the right side of the staircase, Regulus was searching quietly for the horcrux on his own. That creeping, suffocating presence of dark magic kept getting closer and closer the further he walked through the huge hallway of Malfoy Manor.

To his surprise, his knowledge of the mansion’s layout was sharper than he remembered. He didn’t remember exactly what rooms were where but he did know his way around the place pretty decently. He just hoped Evan and Barty remembered what he told them, especially about what rooms not to enter. Most rooms were fine but if they entered a bedroom and someone was sleeping there the consequences would be unimaginable.

Not only because they would get caught; they could handle that. They’ve all fought worse enemies than the Malfoys. The biggest problem when caught would be the fact that they would never be able to pull it off again. Once the dark lord heard, it would be over. Malfoy manor would get protection so strong no one but them could pass and anyone who still did would be murdered, brutally. Regulus knew these people, they wouldn’t show remorse.

The stakes were high, which is why he sent Barty and Evan searching together. Evan’s logical thinking might just save them from Barty’s impulsivity.

Regulus almost finished his search on the first floor, already accepting the fact they had to go up a floor and search there. He had hoped so desperately they wouldn't have, because he knew which rooms were there and that some of their bedrooms and studies there were guarded chambers. Important things were hidden in those studies; documents, data, secrets.

They hoped the dark lord wouldn’t be predictable, that he wouldn’t have hidden it in there because even though Regulus knew which rooms were cursed, he didn’t know in what way.

One more room to go, a room that Regulus wasn’t sure about. When he still regularly visited Malfoy manor, that room was an empty room with boxes. He would’ve skipped it if he didn’t sense that dark, eerie feeling of something dark hiding too close by.

He opened the room, quietly stepping inside like he had with all others. He immediately felt it; this was it, the horcrux had to be there. He looked around the room, it contained a cabinet, a small closet-- baby shoes?

A small sound came from behind him, where his back was facing the wall. A soft, sleepy murmur.

Regulus froze. Turned.

There, in a small crib with silky white curtains laid a baby. Barely a year old, the tiniest bit of white-blond hair on his head. Unmistakably; Draco Malfoy.

Of course.

Of course the most valuable piece of dark magic in their possession was hidden in the same room as their child. Of course Lucius would hide the dark lord’s most valuable possession in the same room as his heir, like some twisted baptism.

Regulus was scared to even breathe, even the slightest footstep could trigger the baby to cry. And if there was one thing his cousin would definitely wake up to, it would be her child crying.

But what could he do? He was already in the room, so he had to find that diary. Turning and running wasn’t an option, getting Barty and Evan would only create more noise- he really had no choice but to quietly search through the drawers.

But then- what if the dark lord, or the Malfoys had cursed it? What if the baby and the diary were connected in some sick way? That did sound like a stunt either one of them could’ve pulled. Use a baby as a trap, as a ward.

He’d feel that, right? A curse like that. He’d feel it all around him, darkness just like he felt the horcrux’ presence. Regulus had to, he had to search the room knowing all the risks it would hold, knowing what was at stake if one of these things turned out to be true.

So, very carefully regaining his ability to move, he started searching. The pull of dark magic was all over the room, which wasn’t very helpful when searching. Every book he found gave him false hope only to prove itself worthless in the end. There were a lot of drawers filled with toys, which was something Regulus had never expected to find when he thought of the Malfoys. He wasn’t sure what he did expect; maybe a skull or an ancient artifact for the little boy to play with. All these actual human things made them feel annoyingly real. Regulus hated that, he wanted them to feel monstrous that would make it all so much easier.

Regulus stopped skimming the drawers when that thought came to mind. Because, what would the dark lord do once he found out they took the diary? He wouldn’t take it lightly, that was one thing certain. Neither would he let anyone inside the house off the hook, everyone would be a suspect. But… he probably wouldn’t even think to question Dobby, a simple servant who wasn’t even the slightest bit relevant to a ruler such as himself.

Dobby would be fine, that wasn’t why Regulus’ thoughts prevented him from moving. It was Narcissa.

What would he do to her, to his cousin? Were it Bellatrix or her husband, it would be fine but he couldn’t shake the thought of his last nice cousin getting tortured for answers.

Why?

When did he get all this compassion? Regulus killed people before, why did he give a single fuck about this woman who just happened to be his family.

No.

This was not going to stop him. They were working towards a bigger cause. And Evan didn’t seem to care about Narcissa and she was his cousin as well. So, no.

He wasn’t entirely able to push the thoughts away but he did continue his search, quickly finding the diary in the bottom drawer of the dresser filled with toys.

It was unmistakable. A black, leather bound notebook with gold trims at the edges. Very chic, very him. The moment Regulus opened the diary he felt a kind of powerful sensation. The ring felt like that when he touched it, the locket felt like that when he wore it and now the diary radiated it when opened.

The diary didn’t just radiate, it whispered. Not in English. Not in any language Regulus had ever heard. It slithered between the pages like a snake made of smoke, sissing softly, thoughtful almost. A sound that wasn’t a sound. It made his ears itch.

He held the diary further away from his body, but to no avail. The voice circled his thoughts like a predator. No words- promises. No threats- invitations.

Something lived in there, and it was awake.

Oh, this was more than a horcrux. This was history.

Regulus shut it even quicker than he’d opened it, wanting the sound to stop eating at him. He shoved it inside his ropes and made his way out of the room a fast as he could without making a noise.

He had to show Barty and Evan. This was more than just a mangled soul, trapped in an object. And Regulus wasn’t sure what that meant.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28: Between the Lines

The order didn’t leave Grimmauld Place 12 after they had been compromised by the enemy. They had held a formal vote, asking every member what they thought would be best. No safe house had given them the advantage that Grimmauld Place 12 had given them, so they almost unanimously decided to stay.

Over the morning after the ‘attack’, Remus and James had to go through the process of telling every single person in the house what had happened the night prior. This was, of course, including the fact they had let them get away. Which just sucked. Not only did they feel bad about it as it was, they also got a proper scowl from Moody who wasn’t very pleased by the fact the two men had no idea who these death eaters were.

James knew. He knew what he saw, he knew who he saw. He knew all three of them, because if there was one of them, no doubt all three of them were still alive. He just couldn’t grasp how. They found his wand, his cadaver, he was dead.

He wasn’t just confused about that, he was angry, furious. The day they heard Regulus had passed away was one James wouldn’t forget ever.

It was during an order meeting. They were all seated around the big roundtable in one of their previous safe houses when Moody dropped the bomb. He was usually the one who brought those kinds of bad news, because he was pretty much the only one who knew how to say it. No beating around the bush just straight forward.

‘Sirius, your brother passed.’

Everyone was expecting a big reaction. All the people around the table, except the four friends. Sirius was very secretive about his relationship to anyone but the Marauders. He didn’t enjoy talking about his once so sweet little brother who turned against him to fight the war on opposite sides.

It was Sirius, why did they expect any reaction? He was still a Black, and as much as he loved to ignore his last name he still held some of those genes of ever avoiding anything emotional. The only emotions Sirius expressed outside of their dorm room were excessive happiness, clearly a coping mechanism for when he wasn’t feeling great, and rage.

But he didn’t rage, or make some snarky remark that would have him laugh bitterly at his brother’s death. He just nodded, his eyes tightly bound to Moody.

‘Okay.’

That was it, okay. And you know what? Sirius seemed okay. He didn’t seem off, his eyes didn’t change, nor did his demeanor.

Peak Black behavior.

James on the other hand. Merlin, James’ world went dark. Every happy thought he’d ever had, every nice feeling, they all left him at the same split second. He wasn’t sure for how long he just stared at the ground, trying not to have the biggest breakdown of the century in a room full of people who did not know their history together. Hell, they didn’t even know James had any kind of connection to Regulus Black.

No one noticed. James had been stressed for weeks by then, having just gotten married with a baby on the way in a time of war wasn’t exactly something which helped him sleep soundly.

That day was easily one of the worst of his life. But he had gotten past it.

Did he think about Regulus occasionally? Yes. Did he think about him very often? Maybe. Was Regulus the only thing on his mind when he was falling asleep in his lonely twin bed in the attic? Who knew?

But he had been able to keep it to himself. He didn’t want his grief to affect his then still successful marriage. He had been able to, until tha night, to act as if he wasn’t completely freaking out over the fact that he’d never get to tell Regulus he loved him. .

Until he saw his eyes again.

He couldn’t act anymore. Loving Regulus was a secret he could keep, but seeing him, alive and breathing was one he couldn’t. Especially because he knew Sirius wasn’t really feeling ‘okay’, he had been crushed by the news. He heard him cry through closed doors, saw the dried up tears on his cheeks.

Could he tell anyone though? What if his mind had tricked him once again and he just saw what he hoped to see. What if it was all in his head, and he was about to tell Sirius this huge thing based on one glance.

And even if he wanted to tell him, how would he? How could he ever explain himself? ‘I saw his eyes’. Yes, might as well just throw their entire relationship on the table as well then.

A week passed, day and night became one and the same, filled with guilt and confusion. He was seated in the living room of Grimmauld Place, a house he had once in a far past hoped to visit with Regulus after he confessed everything to Sirius.

Everyone had gone to bed, except for Remus who had quietly been reading next to the fire and was just about to head up.

James didn’t want to spend another night doubting himself.

“Hey, Moony?” James asked, doubting whether he was actually ready to ask the question in his mind.

Remus looked up- more so down, he was reasonably tall, at James. “Yes?”

James bit his bottom lip, keeping quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. “Do you ever- do you have a history?” He asked. It wasn’t what he wanted to ask, but it was enough to get him started.

The taller man furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re asking the orphan werewolf if he’s got a history?” He asked, almost humorous. “Did you get into Sirius’ stash by chance?”

“No!” James exclaimed quickly. If anyone in that house would never smoke it would be James, especially not Sirius’ nasty weed.

Remus let out a soft, deep chuckle, crossing his arms. “What is it then, you seem a bit on edge?”

“I meant dating history.” James explained, rotating back to his question from before. “Like back at Hogwarts, before you and Sirius got together.”

“Well, of course.” Remus replied with a frown. “But you know that, we always shared everything.”

James let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Yeah, we did.” He said, quietly.

Normally, Remus wouldn’t smoke inside the house. Only when he felt like ‘the conversation called for a cigarette’, which was more often than you would expect. The werewolf sighed as he took the pack out of his pocket, flipping out a cigarette and lighting it. He took a puff before turning back to James.

“Alright then, spit it out Prongs.” He said, the smoke blowing into James’ face.

James scrunched his nose up. “Nasty habit.” He said, then he turned his gaze over to his feet.

He didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say or ask, which made it a bit hard to form a proper sentence without giving his secret away, because that’s not what he wanted. He wanted to talk to Remus without telling.

“You dated Mary, right?” James asked eventually.

Remus nodded, slowly, taking another drag. “I did.”

James nodded. “Did you- I don’t know, regret that?” He asked, not certain if that’s even what he wanted to know.

Remus let out a low chuckle. “No, Prongs, I don’t.” He responded. He searched James’ face for some kind of emotion he was missing, something that could make clear what he was reaching for. He cleared his throat after a few seconds of silence passed. “I do regret what it did to mine and Sirius’ relationship.”

The other man peaked his head back up, looking Remus in the eye. Jackpot. That’s what he was reaching for.

“Did you ever fight about her?” James asked, his face still as unreadable as before but with a bit more curiosity.

Remus blew out another huff of smoke, to the side this time. He didn’t want James to look away again. “About her or over her?” He asked, then he cocked his head to the side. “Yes to both, actually.”

“Do you still?” James added to his question. “Fight about it?”

Remus shook his head. “It was a long time ago, we’ve grown past it.”

James bit his lip. It wasn’t the same situation. Actually, it was an entirely different situation. He wasn’t even sure if he could compare their situation to his. He just needed to know how angry Sirius would be with him if he ever found out. Or if he told him- Merlin, what if he had to tell him?

He couldn’t even ask Remus a simple question without stumbling over his words, how was he ever going to tell Sirius about Regulus?

“This isn’t what you wanted to hear, is it?” Remus asked, leaning back in his chair.

The other man shook his head with a small, distracted smile. “I’m not sure what I want to hear.”

Remus sighed, then took another very long drag, thinking very loudly. Then he sat up again, the sudden movement making James snap his gaze back up to Remus’ eyes.

“A relationship can’t be perfect. Friendship or romance, doesn’t matter.” Remus said. He always spoke with his hands, the ashes of his cigarette flying everywhere. “If there’s something you feel like you have to tell Lily, do it. Even if it sets you back.”

“It’s not about Lily.” James said, immediately. Or he let it slip out, more so. He never even thought about letting Lily in on his history with Regulus. It didn’t feel necessary. He married her, he had a child with her, why would it matter to her? Though, when Remus said it, he realized he maybe should have told her. Should he have? Would she even care?

Remus frowned, the attitude in his demeanor changing completely to something suspicious. “What exactly do you want to hear, Prongs?” He asked, his eyes narrowed a bit and his tone sounded as if he knew something.

James let out a humourless laugh as he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and back to Remus in a way that screamed ‘I don’t know just help me’.

“What did you do?” Remus asked, his tone now coming close to threatening.

“You know what I did, Remus, come on.” James said in a low voice. “You’re smart, have always been. I know you know what was going on back at school.”

Remus chuckled, also without humor, but more sadistically. “I don’t quite understand what you’re implying, James.” He said. The way he said his name as harsh as he did made James shiver. Not because he was scared, but because they were both aware of what was happening.

Another silence fell, and this one was a lot longer. The weight of what they both knew was being discussed hung around the room, feeling even heavier than the smoke which was starting to fill the space.

Apparently, the silence was so loud it called other members of the order to the room. Peter walked in, no knocking, holding a big mug in his one hand and his lit up wand in his other. It was already midnight, something the two men hadn’t realized as they were conversing.

Peter being- well, Peter, scared himself to the point where he threw the remaining bit of hopefully cooled down tea over his hand and onto the carpet. “Bloody hell!” He exclaimed, taking a step back. “What are you two awake for?”

James stood up faster than he’d ever sat down, his chair shoving back a bit in the progress. He wanted to get out of the smoke-filled room, out of this conversation. He should've thought before he spoke, he should’ve known this was how Remus would react.

“We were just about to go to bed.” He said, not even making eye contact with Peter as he slid out of the room.

Remus rolled his eyes. He pressed out his cigarette, letting the filter fall down to the ground as he went after James. This wasn’t finished, because this wasn’t something that could get out yet. Whatever it was.

He pulled James back from the stair by his sleeve with force, yanking him back so they were face to face. James looked a bit scared- he was, Remus was quite scary.

“I don’t know exactly what there would be to tell, but you are not telling Sirius a single thing. I don’t want to be around when something that tight comes unraveled.” Remus said. It sounded like a threat, but at the same time it came out too collected to be one. “You hear me, Potter?”

James nodded, quickly. After this conversation, he was never planning to tell Sirius.

“Good.” Remus said, relaxing his stance. He reached into his pocket to take out his lighter. “I need another a fag.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 29: Tension

Before Evan or Barty could make another move, Regulus suddenly appeared in the doorframe. Evan’s back was facing the door, so Barty snapped out of his train of thought and his intense stare to look at the man who just appeared out of thin air.

He was about to call his name when he realized he couldn’t, there was still a house elf sleeping in the corner of the room. Dobby might not want to tell on them, but he would have to if or when he saw them. That kind of betrayal could only be justified if he threw himself off the building or something similar to that.

Regulus didn’t completely understand what he walked into. He noticed the elf in the corner, but that didn’t explain why Evan and Barty looked like they were about to either throw hands or kiss. He didn’t even have time to give it a second thought though, they had been searching Malfoy Manor for too long already. It wouldn’t be long before someone would wake up and screw the entire mission.

Luckily, he was holding the diary under his robes and all they had to do was make it out alive. He showed it to them, making no sound and quietly gesturing for them to get out of the room and get the hell out of Malfoy manor.

Evan had to take a few seconds to recollect himself because what on Merlin’s beard was that? Were they both thinking the same thing? Were they actually about to-- No, of course not. It was probably just the tension of the mission mixed with a lot of exhaustion from sleepless nights and undereating.

He was able to get his breathing back to normal after Barty walked towards the door to follow Regulus, he had to quite literally catch his breath because everything had stopped moving when Barty was staring at him. A whole other problem was his heart. It couldn’t seem to stop breathing, clawing its way out of his chest.

His mouth was dry, his mind was foggy, and with all those disabilities, he had to make his way out of Malfoy manor unseen.

Barty and Regulus had already left the room, probably assuming he would follow. He did, follow, even though he was unaware of the way his own body moved. They walked side by side, speaking no words but sharing warning looks that really said ‘don’t celebrate just yet’.

Of course, right as they found their way back to the front door, after having sneaked down the stairs and through the massive hall, they came eye to eye with an obstacle.

A person. A woman, a witch. Someone they knew very well, actually. Narcissa.

The only person in that whole house they wouldn’t kill for no reason.

Would they?

Regulus wouldn’t, and he wasn’t going to. He froze, the lit up wand in front of him almost fell out of his slightly shaky hands. Of course she heard, how could they be so stupid? Did they really think this mission would be easy? Even once, it would be? Of course not, then their story would’ve been boring.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?” Narcissa asked. She clearly wanted to sound scary, dominant and threatening. She just sounded scared.

No one answered. Barty tried to get face to face with Regulus for some kind of answer on what to do. He would kill her if asked, no doubt. He just had to get that nod from Regulus to see if it was fine. Inconvenient as it were, she was his family.

Evan wasn't even with them. The whole experience felt like a fever dream to him. His body was there but his consciousness was still standing upstairs, watching as Barty’s pupils dilated while he touched his face. Not that he didn’t notice Narcissa, but his mind was just far away from it.

Regulus raised his hands, keeping the tight grip on his wand but still making himself weak enough for her to strike if she wanted to.

“Narcissa.” He said, the voice altering charm really saved them on this one. His cousin would know immediately if she heard him. “Let us leave.”

“What did you do? Who are you?” Narcissa asked again, pointing her wand at them and moving it around threateningly. “Why are you wearing your masks?”

Barty took a step forward. He hadn’t raised his hands or shown in any way he wasn’t a threat to her. Big mistake, because Narcissa wasn’t afraid to attack either.

“Expelliarmus.” She yelled.

Barty’s wand flew out of his hand and landed on the floor a few feet behind them with a loud clatter. He quickly raised his hands as well. “Whoah, unnecessary violence. Not cool.” He said with a stupid smirk on his face.

Narcissa stepped closer to him and Regulus, her wand coming dangerously close to their faces as she looked at the gap between them where Evan was standing a few feet back.

“I’m asking one last time; who are you and why are you in my house?” Narcissa said, more carefully this time, more collected.

They didn’t say anything, because they didn’t know what they could say. Of course they planned what to do in this exact case. The problem was; Evan told them to ‘follow his lead’ if something like this happened. And Evan- well, Evan wasn’t very responsive.

So neither were Barty and Regulus. They didn’t notice Evan’s lack of focus so they just thought it was part of the plan.

“I’ll call my husband over if you don’t speak!” Narcissa yelled, loud enough that she wouldn’t even have to call him because the whole house could’ve heard it.

“Don’t!” Regulus reacted quickly. “We don’t mean any harm, we just-”

“Just what? Breaking and entering is enough harm!” Narcissa didn’t even let him finish. “Luci-”

She was about to yell his name, to call over Lucius Malfoy. The three of them were strong, powerful, but not at full energy and definitely not able to fight whatever army the Malfoys were hiding throughout their mansion.

Barty acted quickly. He looked to his side as Narcissa spoke, seeing Regulus just stand there, staring at his cousin while his trust in Evan’s plan slowly dripped away. He clearly wasn’t going to do anything to stop her, so Barty grabbed Regulus’ wand out of his hand and pointed it at her.

She wasn’t able to finish her scream for help or Barty had already disarmed her. Then he took a few steps closer in her direction.

This was the way Barty always went to work while dealing with someone who came in his way. First, he’d make them weaker. Sometimes by disarming them, or when he knew personal information he’d strike them where it hit them emotionally. It was cruel, really, but so was war.

Afterwards, he’d make himself look bigger. Barty already wasn’t lanky or short in any way, so taking a few steps closer to his target would do the job. Most people already knew him by name and face. Barty Crouch Jr was known to show very little remorse.

With their masks on, Narcissa couldn’t see who she was dealing with. It didn’t have as much effect.

“Get away from me.” Narcissa said, calm but firm, batting up at him through her eyelashes with fire in her eyes. “I don’t need a wand to fight you.”

“Don’t even think about it, love.” Barty said. Another disturbing thing Barty always did. He was annoyingly charming and he wasn’t afraid to use his charm in situations like these. “Who knows what would happen to your sweet Draco if you tried anything?”

And with that simple sentence, everything changed. Barty words cut through the tension like a knife, tilting the power dynamic so sharply it nearly shattered. There was something sad about the way Narcissa’s eyes shifted when she realized they were in total control. And all that because of a threat.

She wasn’t just scared because they threatened to hurt her baby. She was terrified because they knew her, while she didn’t have a single clue who she was up against.

Narcissa stepped aside, freeing the space between the three men and the door. She was defeated, and they didn’t even have to fight.

“Go.” She ordered, the fire in her eyes hadn't died yet but it didn’t burn as fiercely. “Never come back.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 30: Too Close

They didn’t speak until they were sure it was safe. Not that any of them felt like speaking; the adrenaline of almost dying was all they had on their minds.

But, the second Regulus was done setting up protective spells around their new camping spot for the night, he went for Evan.

Evan, who wasn’t even sure how they got out of Malfoy manor in the first place, was still a bit hazy. Reality had caught up to him for the most part as he started scrambling through their bottomless bag to find the tent, but his mind wasn’t exactly with him.

He didn’t even notice Regulus storming over to him, wand out and ready. Not until he already had him gripped tight by the collar.

“What the fuck, Evan?!” He yelled. His eyes were dark and scary and filled with this anxiety that he had never seen on Regulus before.

Evan’s mouth fell open, and his eyes widened. He blinked, then said nothing.

Regulus let out a humorless and storm crazy laugh. “You don’t have anything to say? Really?” He asked, then he let his collar go with force, making the blonde stumble back a few small steps before he fell onto the damp forest floor. “We put our full trust in you. You said you had a plan!”

“I did!” Evan responded. It was as if his ghost had finally found its way back into him. Everything felt heavy. The tension, the situation, his body.

“Well it sure as hell didn’t seem like it.” Regulus responded.

Evan wasn’t sure what to tell him. He’d been out of it, completely focussed on the moment he’d shared with Barty and it almost cost them their lives.

Regulus ran his hand through his greasy hair, looking up at the sky with a lost look in his eyes. As if he wasn’t sure what to do or say anymore either.

“What’s happening?” Barty asked as he walked back into their safe bubble. He had been getting wood for the fire, and wasn’t sure why Evan was on the ground, looking terrified at the man in front of him.

They both ignored him. Evan was staring at Regulus, scared. Not because he had his wand or because he was afraid Regulus would fight him. No, he was scared because Regulus was disappointed. The disapproving look in Regulus’ eyes made him feel anxious and uneasy.

Regulus leaned down a bit. He wasn’t sure why: maybe he didn’t want Barty to hear what he was about to say or maybe he wanted Evan to hear it very clearly.

“If we died out there, it would’ve been your failed plan that led us into it.”

And with that cutting line he swooped the tent off the ground and started quietly setting it up.

Barty’s eyes flickered between them, but he never spoke. He let Evan sit there and Regulus built up the tent, fuming.

A few hours later, by the fire, they were alone again. Just Barty and Evan.

Regulus had gone to bed. Something about being tired from the mission but honestly, no one bought it. None of them felt like they would ever get tired again; the adrenaline still deep inside their bones, making their muscles ache and heads hurt.

It didn’t matter if he were or weren’t asleep, no one dared to check anyways.

The forest was quiet again, neither of the men spoke. They just listened to the fire crackling for a while.

Until Barty looked up from where his finger was brushing the barely dried dirt.

“You okay?” He asked. His voice was softer than usual, lacking sarcasm and bite.

Evan had his knees pulled thigh against his body, hugging them tightly as if he was trying to ground himself. He didn’t raise his head from where it was laying on his knees, just turned it to face Barty.

He let out a soft, humorless laugh that sounded more sinister than a cry for help. “No.”

Barty sighed. Not because he was annoyed or because he was bored. It was a sad sigh, a sigh of compassion. A sigh Barty would never have let out before getting closer to Evan and Regulus. And it came with a feeling of utter helplessness, what could he do? He’d never cared about feelings before, he didn’t understand why he did all of a sudden.

“He’s right, you know?” Evan said, turning to stare at the flames.

There were a few more seconds of quiet crackling before the sound of dirt shoveling and footsteps sounded from Barty’s direction.

He sat down next to him, leaning back on his hands as he faced Evan’s side profile.

“He’s also a dramatic little shit.” He said, convincingly. “That doesn’t mean he gets to tear you apart.”

“I almost got us killed.” Evan snapped, turning his head so fast he could feel his headache burn. His eyes were teary. He blamed the dry air and the heat of the fire, Barty knew it wasn’t the real reason.

“Isn’t that what we signed up for?” Barty asked, though it was more a statement because he was right. “We’re almost getting killed every day.”

Evan let out another laugh, this one seemed a bit more genuine. “That’s true.” He said, softly, before turning back to the fire. “But you didn’t see his face.”

Barty shook his head. “I didn’t” He said, matching the soft tone of Evan’s voice. “But I saw yours.”

Evan blinked, not daring to look to his side. He knew that facing Barty in that moment would mean the end of their friendship. He dug his fingers deeper into his calves, trying to get the thoughts of Barty possibly ever wanting him to be anything more than a friend out of his mind.

Then, Barty reached out. Not for a hug. Not to pull him close. Just… his hand. Evan’s grip on his legs loosened immediately.

Their fingers touched - clumsy at first, like they were both unsure who moved first - but neither of them pulled away.

For a second, maybe two-- or five, they just sat like that. Their fingers brushing, not quite interlaced but also definitely not apart.

Evan’s breath hitched. Not long enough for someone to notice, but Barty did. Of course. It was stupid. It didn’t fix anything. But it was real, it was something.

And for the first time that night, Evan didn’t feel entirely alone.

Chapter Text

Chapter 31: Never Have I Ever

“Alright then party people!” Marlene yelled as she practically stormed into the living room of Grimmauld place. Her arms were filled with - to be exact - four different bottles of liquor and her face was filled with mischief. “Are we ready for a night of magically bound drinking games?”

All faces turned to her, Mary cheered as she rushed over to take some of the bottles out of her friend’s arms.

“You know we’re in the middle of a war, right?” Peter asked, crossing his arms over each other.

Sirius crossed his arms as well, leaning back on the couch as he watched the blonde woman speak. “I like the way you think, Mckinnon.” He said with this idiotic smirk on his face that always annoyed Remus.

Peter just shook his head. “It’s a no for me, thanks.” He said. This was nothing out of the ordinary for Peter. He never wanted to drink, but he also had no backbone so he usually ended up drinking the most.

Lily and James were seated at the table, playing chess. They shared a look of hesitation, both thinking the same because- well, neither of them had spoken up about the way their marriage was so clearly failing. Because it was no one's concern and because if they told anyone, it would become everyone's concern. There was no place for emotional or romantic breakdowns during war.

They didn’t have a lot of time to decide what to do or Remus was already standing behind James. He clasped his hand around his shoulder. “So Prongs, ready for an old fashioned game of never have I ever?” He asked.

James looked up at him, coming face to face with a grin that could mean both a warning and a challenge. He suspected it was the first.

“Come on, sit.” Dorcas ordered them from where they were sitting on the floor.

They had just thrown down some pillows on the carpeted floors around the coffee table. The couch was quickly forgotten as Mary and Sirius sat down in front of it, leaning against the seats.

The three of them joined, James taking a seat on the floor next to Remus who had sat down next to Mary. He was face to face with both Sirius and Lily, who had just sat down next to him.

“Has this game ever not caused a fight?” Lily asked as she tapped her hands against the coffee table in front of her, almost anxiously.

Mary smirked at her. “What would be fun about that?” She asked.

She twisted the cap of a bottle of firewhiskey which she poured into seven mugs, one for each. The drinks were quickly passed around, Peter politely declined but still got a cup anyways because again; no spine whatsoever.

“So, I’ll go first.” Marlene squealed excitedly, adjusting her seat on the cushion as she clasped her hands together. “Never have I ever… ridden a broomstick naked?”

Everyone stared at her.

“What?” Lily asked, her eyebrows frowned together.

Marlene frowned back at the group. “Really, no one?!” She asked, as if it was weird. “Damn, boring.”

“Weird, actually, Mckinnon.” Remus said, then he smirked, clearly thinking of something mischievous. “Alright then, my turn. Never have I ever kissed the mother of someone in this room. On the mouth.”

The room went from quiet chatter into a sea of ‘oooo’s. Remus looked sly, too sly as he turned to Peter. “Come on Wormtail, you know what happens if you don’t answer.”

It was a game they had played often in the Gryffindor common room. Never have I ever, hardcore magic edition. If you didn’t answer honestly, didn’t drink when you had to, your nose would grow. It was silly, really, but it made for some very, very chaotic nights.

“I hate you.” Peter said before taking a small sip. The room exploded, everyone started screaming and yelling, mostly just cheers and giggles.

Until someone finally asked. “Whose?!”

It was James who asked, and James who lost. Because by the guilty look that Peter gave him he could guess whose mother Peter had kissed.

“No.” James said in disbelief.

Sirius cackled. “Oh this is awesome.”

“In my defense! I thought she asked me for a kiss, she asked me for a quiche.” Peter said, holding his empty hand up in the air. “I thought she was coming onto me!”

Sirius cackled even louder, Remus looked even more smug than before and the girls all lost their minds laughing. Peter’s cheeks turned crimson as he gave a disturbed looking James an apologetic look.

James wanted to bury himself.

Grimmauld place felt weird when there were people laughing, as if the house wasn’t made to withstand that kind of emotion. The house never won thought, the laughter always overruled with warmth. Just barely.

After the chaos toned down a bit, Marlene took her turn again.

“Never have I ever… slept with someone in this room.” She said, biting her lip with a smile.

Everyone looked around at who was taking sips. Lily and James did, of course. Remus and Sirius did as well… then Mary did, and Peter.

Wait- everyone drank. Except Marlene.

“Who did you sleep with?” Sirius asked Peter who was only turning more red and trying to hide behind his own legs.

“That’d be me.” Mary answered quickly, no shame whatsoever.

Lily giggled. “I heard he’s better in bed than you two.” She said, with a cheeky smile on her lips. She pointed her finger at Remus and Sirius.

Sirius gasped loudly, snapping his head to Mary. “What?! You take that back right now.” He ordered. “No way I wasn’t the best you ever had!”

“Possibly the worst, Sirius.” Mary corrected as she sipped her drink. She didn’t look the least bit sorry.

The rest of the group laughed, Sirius mumbled something about Remus not thinking the same and that Mary was bad as well.

It was James’ turn after. He wasn’t really paying attention to the game, so he hadn’t thought of a question just yet.

“Oh- uh, never have I ever…eaten porridge for dinner.” He blurted out.

The room went quiet.

“What?” Marlene asked with a frown, her drink stayed down.

“What?” James replied, shifting his gaze from where it was digging into the open space to Marlene who was looking almost annoyed.

Sirius threw a cushion of the couch at him, hitting him softly in the face. “You’re boring, Prongs.”

“Yeah, where are those questions you used to ask in the common room?” Lily asked, crossing her arms as she leaned back against a chair.

James sighed. His eyes flickered to his wife - brief, unreadable. Not angry, not kind. Just tired. Like he’d been carrying too much for too long, and she wasn’t making it any lighter. She didn’t notice.

“Never have I ever stolen something.” He asked instead.

Everyone except Lily drank, and James of course. But this wasn’t uncommon knowledge, their friend group often stole small things out of Hogsmeade when the money was out. Usually things for pranks on Slytherins, sometimes booze or cigarettes -that was Remus’ expertise-.

James didn’t care about their answers or the game. All he could think of was that conversation with Remus he had a couple nights prior. Don’t tell Sirius. Yes, okay, but how? Because aside from the fact he had a relationship with Regulus, he never kept any secrets from his best friend. Sirius was like his brother, and he felt a deeply aching guilt every time he realized he knew and Sirius didn’t.

His brother was alive.

No, he didn’t see a ghost- though it really felt like it. It was Regulus, it had to have been. James’ weeks had been filled with going back and forth between ‘it was probably imagination’ to ‘he’s a hundred percent back’.

“Never have I ever…” Peter took his turn, finally tipsy enough to ignore his lack of backbone. “Kissed someone I wasn’t supposed to.”

Marlene rolled her eyes. “You can’t ask things that you’ve done yourself.” She reminded him. “Or were you supposed to kiss James’ mother.”

James shot Peter a warning look, somewhat playful but more closely a threat. Peter choked on the bit of firewhiskey he had poured down his throat as he vigorously shook his head.

“No, no, definitely not.” He said, quickly, panicky. “Uh- never have I ever fallen for someone I wasn’t supposed to fall for.”

Remus and Sirius drank as they looked each other in the eye with a kind of tension that spoke paragraphs. Then Mary took a sip, but she fell for everyone she came close to so that wasn’t a surprise. Then James, very quickly, but no one saw. Then Marlene.

“Really Mckinnon?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised in an amused way. “Who?”

Marlene blushed, her usual cocky demeanor suddenly gone and changed into something new. “Well- I uh, I don’t really like talking about it.” She said, dropping her eyes down to her drink. “He was a Slytherin.”

“Wow Marlene, you bad bad girl.” Lily said, sarcastically. “Mary has dated plenty of Slytherins, it doesn’t really matter right?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t Snape or something so why would we judge?” Mary added, then she cocked her head. “Or was it Snape?”

“Was it?” Peter asked, intrigued.

Marlene let out a sound of disgust, scrunching up her face. “No, ew.” She said, then it went quiet. She sighed, defeated. “It was Crouch.”

The room erupted in yells and cheers again, everyone going bullocks over the fact that Marlene had once fallen for Barty ‘no strings’ Crouch. Marlene tried to hide herself behind a pillow as everyone bombarded her with questions. Even James had forgotten all about the question, thinking he had gotten away unnoticed with having to drink at that question.

Everyone was looking at Marlene.

Except Sirius, who was staring at James, wondering who he’d fallen for.

Chapter Text

Chapter 32: Daddy issues

A few days had passed and Regulus had barely spoken. He occasionally mumbled something about where they were traveling to next or what they were going to eat for dinner, but aside from the necessary he kept his mouth shut

Honestly, Evan didn’t even notice. He had been set on apologizing to Regulus before he talked to Barty, who reminded him that it wasn’t just him in that mansion but it was all three of them. And they were fine, which was the important thing. Even more importantly; they had found yet another horcrux.

After a brief discussion on what to do next they decided it really was time to start destroying them. But how. The fact they kept finding those damn things was worthless if they couldn’t figure out how to actually get rid of them.

Evan and Barty went on a mission together, knockturn alley for more books on illegal magical objects. Regulus stayed back at the campsite to guard and- well, sulk mostly.

He had been able to hold it together for a long time, to ignore it. He had folded it in the far back of his brain, like an old letter he never dared open. But after they almost died in that mansion, he wasn’t able to think about anyone else.

James.

James noticed, he knew James noticed. Why did they have to run into James Potter of all people? And that mission was long before their mission to Malfoy manor, indeed. Which meant Regulus had been building up this mixture of guilt, worry and- on the other side a kind of relief he couldn’t exactly describe.

Because James recognized him. Of course he did. Even after all this time. Even as a death eater.

Regulus didn’t tell his friends, they didn’t need to worry about it. Also, he was scared of what Barty would do if he heard. He wasn’t mad at Evan either, he was just angry that even though he had turned against the dark lord, he would still not be able to ever tell James that he-

That he loved him.

And the moment they almost died made that ten times more real. Because what if they went on a mission one day and didn’t make it back? Then he would die with James thinking he was on the opposite side of the war. And that hurt, because that wasn’t how he wanted James to remember him.

As Regulus was slowly falling apart to the fact he would never be able to get back to how things were, Evan was breaking down all the reasons why Barty kept getting closer to him.

It was a Barty thing, he told himself at first. Barty had always been a toucher; a pat on the back or a friendly arm around the shoulders. He’d never shied away from it.

But they became… different. Barty started lingering. It started long before the mansion, Evan just never paid attention to it. Thinking back, it started after one of their first missions to Diagon Alley. Their hands had touched, and Barty lingered. That was the first time Barty lingered; and it was months ago. It had almost been six months since they started camping instead of staying in their safe house and that mission was even long before that.

Why did Evan start noticing now, and why was he going crazy over it? He left his crush on Barty behind at Hogwarts, and it had been fine like that for years.

“Shit- that’s Moody.” Barty cursed, pulling Evan out of his deep thought and back to reality where they were sneaking through Knockturn alley underneath the invisibility cloak. He grabbed his arm, dragging him into a smaller alley away from the main street where the order member had been spotted.

Evan didn’t even see Moody -or as he’s been recently rumored to call himself; Mad-Eye. Something Evan was somewhat proud of- but he still held his breath as they hid in the dark.

Knockturn Alley was cold. It was always more chilly there than a few streets over at Diagon alley, by a few degrees even. But it wasn’t just the temperature. The whole atmosphere of the shadowed road would give anyone who dared to enter goosebumps.

Barty stuck his head around the corner, tilting it as he looked at Moody.

“You really got him good, huh?” He noted, his gaze rotating back to Evan who was pressed up against the wall next to him.

They were close again- too close. Closer than in the mansion, but with a different vibe. Barty didn’t have that look in his eyes this time. Evan still felt it, all of it. Barty’s breath on his face, his shoulder brushing against Barty’s, lingering again. The cloak was big enough to fit another person underneath, why didn’t one of them move the slightest inch to the side?

Evan let out a distracted sigh of a laugh, letting his eyes drift away from barty’s face before he did something… stupid. “Yeah.”

Barty didn’t notice. Of course he didn’t notice, when did Barty ever notice.

“I think we’re good.” He whispered, his face focussed on the streets again. Evan nodded, not at anyone, just to himself really.

The rest of the mission went somewhat smooth, with an occasional bump in the road: a dark witch seeing right through the cloak (which everyone ignored, there were a lot of crazy people walking around Knockturn Alley), Evan tripping over the cloak and having to catch himself on Barty’s shoulders. But it went mostly fine.

Until it didn’t.

They had gathered everything they needed; more books, some potions supplies and then went back to Diagon Alley to gather some food for the following days. This was where everything went to hell.

It started when Evan felt it- like a ripple in the air, like something brushing against his skin that didn’t belong there. Something that wasn’t there before.

It wasn’t wind, or magic he recognized. A tickle at the back of his neck.

Barty froze beside him. “Fuck.” He whispered. “Someone just cast Homenum Revelio.”

Evan tensed. That was a detection charm. Not to see- no, to sense. Someone knew something was disrupting the peace, just not what.

“Don’t move.” Barty said, he turned to look Evan in the eyes. “Don’t breathe.”

That or running, those were their options. This specific detection charm would note if they ran and it would note if they stood still. Their best chances lay with keeping as still and quiet as possible, in hopes of the charm not noticing their presence. It needed something; movement, sound, anything would set it off.

Then someone bumped into them, and that plan was immediately off the table.

Aside from the weird look this person cast at the lack of obstacle standing where they just bumped into, the charm had definitely detected them now. They felt it, something low swooping low over them, immersing them in its shadow.

Evan handled this time. He grabbed Barty’s wrist and started moving in a solid motion. Barty was prepared, he knew this was their only other option.

Neither of them knew what they were running from, just that they had to get away if they didn’t want anyone finding out about them… being alive. The lack of someone actually chasing them didn’t make them run any less faster. They outran their feet, almost stumbling over the cloak every few steps. One step out of line, one slip of the cloak and someone would notice.

Evan had terrific stamina, he would’ve been able to outrun a killing curse if the caster was just a little off. He’d tested that once. Barty was keeping up but only just. His movements were getting sloppy- like his limbs didn’t work together anymore, just rebelling one by one. Evan noticed, and he knew Barty was too proud to ask him to slow down.

So, after running for long enough that anyone who was chasing them would’ve been left fat behind, he pulled Barty into a small backdoor. Evan still had a tight grip on his wrist and he wasn’t planning to let go before they were somewhere away from danger. They were a few streets away from the main street of Diagon Alley, now hidden in what seemed to be the apothecary’s storage room.

They didn’t say anything, just looked around the room, curious. The overwhelming feeling of the curse on them and something following them had finally left. This didn’t mean it was gone, but at least they were safe where they were.

Wrong again.

Because someone walked into the storage room, a woman. Their eyes widened. They were still underneath the cloak, sure, but the storage room was small. No matter where this woman would’ve gone, she would’ve run into them.

So, Evan gave Barty a firm pull at the wrist he was holding, quietly gesturing to him to follow. There was a closet in the corner, small enough to fit one person; definitely not two but they just had to make it work if they wanted to get out without getting their hands dirty.

The woman was holding a stack of boxes, high enough so that she couldn’t see the closet door opening and shutting. They made sure to get in quick; because she was standing close enough to hear them breathing.

Evan quietly breathed a silencing spell over the closet, finally giving them room to breathe- or well, the opportunity, because there definitely was no room. He didn’t think twice when he pulled them both into the closet, his instincts had taken over and all that mattered was getting somewhere safe.

It was only then that he realized how close he actually was to Barty. The alley had been his limit. And that was only an hour ago. He wasn’t ready to do that dance again. But did he have a choice? No, because Barty was right there. His back pressed up against the other side of the tiny closet.

The first thing Evan noticed was all the places where his body was pressed up against Barty’s, because this time around it weren’t just their shoulders brushing. Their feet were entangled, the only way they were able to both keep them on the ground. Then their knees were also touching, and higher- thigh to thigh… hip to hip. Evan wanted to scream, to pull his brain out because the thoughts entering his head wouldn’t do anyone any good, especially not at that moment.

And yet, he was still very much holding only Barty’s wrist.

Evan tried to ignore every single one of his senses, hoping that shutting his body down would mean it wouldn’t react.

But then Barty let out a breath. Shaky, shallow, uncontrolled. Panicky, almost.

They couldn’t see each other. The closet was dark, and Evan wasn’t sure if the cloak kept out light as well.

“Barty?” Evan asked, his grip loosening on his wrist as his focus shifted to the way Barty’s knees started to shake.

No answer. Just another, shallow breath. Then another.

“Hey.” Evan whispered. He didn’t have to whisper, but something in him told him he had to be gentle. He couldn’t see Barty’s face but he could feel him- every inch, too close, too tense.

Then a shaky hand landed on his shoulder, Barty’s.

“I can’t,” Barty muttered. “I can’t-- fuck--.”

Evan froze. ”Can’t what?”

“Small spaces,” Barty breathed, it took a lot of effort to get out. “Just- don’t talk. I’m fine.”

That was a lie. His voice was shaking just as much as the rest of his body. Evan lifted his hand, fumbling in the dark until his fingers found Barty’s jaw. He hadn’t meant to, he just needed to ground him, to get him back down from where his breath was hitching up to. Barty’s skin burned, or maybe Evan’s did. Something sparked.

Barty flinched, then stilled.

“You’re not fine.” Evan whispered. He tried to keep busy with what was important in the moment. “Barty, what is happening?”

Silence. Not even another breath.

Then, finally: “Nothing. It’s fucking nothing. Just- just keep talking, alright?”

That surprised Evan, especially because mere seconds ago he’d told him to stop talking.

“About what?” Evan asked.

“Anything.” Barty said, voice clipped. “Just not this, please.”

Evan swallowed. “Okay then, the alley smelled like piss and rotten pumpkin.”

A shaky laugh left Barty, more exhale than humor but it was something.

“These books are probably cursed.” Evan went on. “You’re definitely reading them first, I don’t really feel like living the rest of my life covered in sores. Or getting my brain eaten.”

“I’d still be smarter than you.”

“Wow, deep breath and a personal attack. You’re healing already.”

Barty let out another laugh, followed by a solid, less hollow breath. They stood in silence for a bit; Barty’s hand never left Evan’s shoulder just as Evan wasn’t planning to let go of his wrist.

And it wasn’t awkward like that.

It was comforting.

Chapter Text

Chapter 33: Masks

The new books didn’t give them any new information, not about the possible next horcrux nor of a way they could break them.

Was their research not thorough enough? Were they looking for the wrong thing? Was it even possible?

They had a lot of questions, all unspoken and unanswered. None of them knew, none of them wanted to wonder out loud because it would only make their hope sink deeper into an already bottomless pit of nothing.

Another week was spent; reading, traveling, eating, reading. Every night, the one on the lookout was assigned to read. Read, read and read again because they had to be missing something. Books on illegal magical objects, completely lacking the work horcrux in its whole. Ancient, dark parchments filled with all kinds of illegal charms and jinxes; but not a single mention of the soul tied objects they were looking for.

The only good thing that came from their never ending research was the fact that Regulus had finally gotten time to put the thought of James on the back burner for a while. This led to him actually apologizing to Evan, telling him his behaviour and outburst weren’t really directed at him and that he had just been exhausted from the mission.

He didn’t tell them about James, or his worries. They knew.

Nights filled with research and silently reading by the campfire also meant more opportunity for Barty to drive Evan insane. After their moment in the closet, they had gone back to the campsite, not that much had been said. It wasn’t something they were supposed to talk about, because it didn’t mean anything. They were just friends.

To Evan, though, it felt like something lingered in the air between them. Not quite something romantic but definitely not platonic either. It was something indescribable, incomparable to a feeling of friendship but something very far away from a relationship.

It had been a long week. The sun was high, the afternoon creeping in. The day felt like sunday; not quite dreaded but dull and clearly leading into something they weren’t going to enjoy. The tent felt quieter that day, for no particular reason.

Barty closed his book in a sudden movement, a loud sound emerging from it. It startled Evan who was hanging with his head upside down from the edge of his air mattress, his face inches away from where Barty was sitting criss crossed on the floor.

“This isn’t doing anything.” He said, his tone resembled that of a stubborn toddler getting told what to do by its mother.

Regulus, who was sitting a bit further away from them, sighed. Softly, but loud enough. He didn’t look up from his book. “Just keep reading Crouch.”

“This is the third time I’ve read this book. Nothing.” Barty replied, toying with the book before throwing it on the pile of books.

He rubbed his face with his hands, then let his gaze fall down to Evan. His face was slightly red from being upside down for a while, contrasting with his almost white hair which was hanging loosely in the air. All of them could use a haircut, a big one.

Evan felt Barty looking at him, but he didn’t let his eyes slip away from the book. He had to restrain himself, actually, because he desperately wanted to know what look Barty was giving him this time.

“Anything, Rosier?” Barty asked when he wasn’t getting the attention he wanted.

“Nope.” Evan replied, shortly, continuing.

Barty groaned. Then it was silent again.

Then, after careful consideration. “We should go back in. Wear the masks. We know how they think--we were them.” It was Barty who suggested it, "Let's use it.”

He seemed eager, as if this idea was the first thing that gave him life in a long time.

Regulus finally closed his book, sensing that their focus had drifted away from simple research. He looked at Barty with a sort of amused glimmer in his eyes. “That’s a joke right?”

“Why would it be?” Barty replied, dead serious.
Regulus scoffed. “You’re insane.”

Then Evan sat up, intrigued by Barty’s suggestion. “No but we could,” He said, then turned to Regulus. “We could go undercover.”

“No, we can’t.” Regulus answered shortly. “End of discussion.”

Barty rolled his eyes. “Right, I’m sorry holy leader.” He mumbled, pushing himself up to his feet. “I forgot that whatever you say goes around here.”

Evan smacked Barty’s knee from where he was sitting, a warning look in his eyes. “Alright, my turn.” He said, sternly. Then he held up his hand.

This was another thing they had to do on such a regular basis it became something that didn’t require any thought or discussion. Barty slipped the locket into Evan’s hand, who put it in his pocket.

“Stop wearing it inside.” Regulus said, leaning back on his hands to study Barty’s face. “Still think it’s a good idea now?”

Barty shrugged, his lips pressed in a thin line. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” He said, less fierce this time. “It’s worth a try, don’t you think? It’d give us valuable information.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It will.”

Then a silence struck the tent again, the only sound was that of the trees rustling in the soft breeze.

They both looked at Evan at the same time. Evan let his gaze flicker between them, an almost childlike innocence in his eyes. As if someone had just asked him if he loved his father or his mother most and he didn’t know what to answer because; yes, it would probably give them a lot of information they could use. But then it would also be reckless to just go undercover in the mansion.

He bit his lip. “We could do it.” He said, considering it, then he looked at Regulus. “But let me make a plan.”

Regulus hesitated. It kind of hurt, but Evan couldn’t blame him. His last plan didn’t work out great.

“He can do it, Reg.” Barty assured him.

Evan nodded quickly, his eyes shooting from Regulus to Barty to send him a grateful look.

Regulus sighed, raking his hand through his hair. “You two are insane.” He said before getting up on his feet.

“Is that a yes?” Barty asked, a playful look on his face.

“Sure, whatever.” Regulus replied as he made his way over to the entrance of the tent. He turned around as he stood in the opening, his eyes threatening and on Evan. “This plan has to be air tight, yes? If it’s not and it kills us I will haunt your ghost.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 34: Ready

Not once before had the stakes been this high on a mission.

In all honesty, it was kind of reckless what they were doing. And they knew. But instead of fear, they experienced something else. A kind of adrenaline, different from the usual rush of blood and thumping of hearts. This adrenaline meant more than life and death; it meant hope and promise and light at the end of a tunnel they had been walking through for too long.

Barty was always one to search for that kind of adrenaline, climbing through hoops to get a sense of that feeling. Usually, he would find it when he was hunting someone down; seeing the eyes of the person he was chasing and slowly watching the life drain out of them when he finally killed them.

He felt himself wondering if that feeling would be the same now that he officially joined ‘the other side’. Some part of him hoped it would; another tiny part of him wished it wouldn’t.

Evan had been acting differently around him. He noticed, of course. Barty wasn’t dull. He used to be less… flinchy. Less on edge.

Maybe it was because of the way Regulus had basically threatened him when he was already weak, or maybe the weight of their mission was finally catching up to him.

Whatever it was, it only made Barty more eager to get close to him. He didn’t understand exactly why he so desperately wanted to get close to Evan. They had been close for years. Close friends, just as they were close friends with Regulus. Something had changed; might’ve been a vibe, or a change of air- something subtle but undeniable.

“How long does this work for again?” Barty asked as he lazily stirred the cauldron with polyjuice potion slowly boiling over the fire. He was seated next to it, legs crossed.

Regulus shrugged. “Depends if you made it right.” He said, tossing a few jars out of their backpack, at Evan’s lap.

“Reassuring.” Barty mumbled.

“Why again did you take these?” Evan asked while scanning the jars. There were four jars, all filled with singular hairs, hairs of death eaters.

“Why did we pack anything? I knew it was a matter of time before it’d be useful.” Regulus said. “Are you complaining?”

Barty grinned at Regulus’ sarcastic remark. “Bet he’s not really looking forward to turning into your cousin.” He teased.

Evan scoffed, rolling his eyes at Barty. “In your dreams Crouch, we haven’t landed on that yet.”

“I have.”

“And then what? You’re going to feel me up?” Evan asked, dared almost. “You’ve been celebat for a long time. I was starting to wonder when that would take its toll.”

Regulus threw a rock at him. “Focus on the mission.” He warned, then turned to Barty. “And don’t talk about feeling up my cousin.”

“Evan did!” Barty argued, letting the spoon drop in the cauldron, indignant.

Evan let out a soft, teasing chuckle as he got up to look at their pile of death eater clothing on the floor. They had worn their old outfits before. Quite often, actually, because it gave them an extra layer of privacy. If someone would pull the cloak off them or if they were walking about a town such as Little Hangleton, those masks and robes gave them an extra kind of security they needed.

It was only a matter of time before something like that would happen; so better they be safe than sorry.

This was also one of the reasons they had decided to use polyjuice potion during their mission in the Dark Lord’s mansion. It might not have been entirely necessary, no one ever really took their masks off inside the building -mostly because everyone was scared out of their senses and didn’t want each other to see- which would be enough. But, Evan had made the plan. And he didn’t feel like disappointing Regulus twice in two weeks.

Of course Regulus was prepared for anything. He had packed basically every ingredient on the market, whatever they needed to make every potion in the books. Should they have been surprised? No. Were they? Maybe a little; because they definitely hadn't expected him to have collected hairs of family members just in case they would need them on a mission.

Their options as to who they’d turn into were limited. Bellatrix, Narcissa, Lucius or Rodolphus -Bellatrix’ husband-. They had quickly ruled out Bellatrix because in the event of running into the real her, she was probably the only one who would kill them without a second thought.

“Alright then, rock, paper, scissors who has to be female Malfoy.” Barty suggested, earning an eye roll from Regulus.

Regulus had already claimed Rodolphus and the others had agreed because that man gave off a kind of unbothered scarry that only he could mimic.

Evan straightened his back, as he was getting ready for a very serious exam. “Bring it.”

They played the game, Barty lost, Evan laughed.

“Ass.” Barty huffed, now finally turning back to the potion and stirring it again.

They spent the rest of that day preparing, making sure their cloaks and masks were clean and ready, mapping out the rest of the plan and tweaking it where necessary.

The plan seemed easy. They knew the location of the mansion, how to get in, the layout. Basically everything they needed. The only thing they couldn’t be sure about was when there would even be a meeting.

If they just walked into the mansion when no one else was there it would seem suspicious, so they had to be called there.

Called there.

Their marks.

“What if we waited for the mark to burn?” Regulus suggested.

They didn’t really talk about it when it happened, but their marks still burned with the same kind of fire as they did when they were actual death eaters.

It was their best chance. Their old lives, the marks they once bore with pride, still answering a call they no longer served. Who would’ve thought betrayal could be so useful?

Chapter Text

Chapter 35: The Meeting

The pain came like lightning. Sudden, without warning and inevitably there.

They had been resting inside the tent for hours, never falling asleep, just waiting in silence.

Barty shot up first, he had been nervously tapping his foot against the ground for a long time, ready for action both physically and mentally. Evan was startled by Barty’s sudden movement. He was as much focussed on the mission as he was focused on the fact that Barty had been sitting really, very much too close to him. Again.

Their shoulders kept knocking together, every bump of the arm made Evan question if maybe- just maybe, Barty was doing it on purpose. That he knew exactly what effect he was having on him and he was using it to his advantage. Until Barty would make another sarcastic comment or say something so casual, it wasn’t possible he noticed the way Evans cheeks tinted crimson and his muscles stiffened.

Regulus was ready just as quick as Barty had gotten up it seemed, his full focus already into the mission.

Focus

They had once before almost failed a mission and it was definitely- maybe, could’ve been because of the same reason he wasn’t very present right now. At least the other two knew the entire plan this time, every possible outcome and every obstacle had a different approach carefully thought through by the three of them.

Just focus

Evan took a shallow breath, more for the sake of sucking in air than actually inhaling oxygen.

It wasn’t that hard. The mark was burning; it should take up all of his focus. But even as they left their tent in silence, walking over to a safe location to apparate.

Bump.

“I can’t wait to become a girl for a couple hours.”

Bump.

“The weather has been getting nicer huh?”
Then they apparated. Evan carefully positioned himself so Regulus was in the middle, not really wanting to touch Barty’s hand- or maybe wanting it just a little too much. What if he did touch him back? What would he do?

Bump.

“If Snape is still alive I’m absolutely putting poison in his drink.”

Bump.

After apparating, they walked a while, about thirty minutes; though it could’ve just as well been eternity. Barty, as always, never stopped talking. They knew it was a nervous thing, Barty often said stupid things while under pressure.

“If you’re male Malfoy and I’m female Malfoy, we’re legally married right?”

No bump, but not due to any lack of trying. Evan just stopped walking right when he heard that. Regulus noticed, shooting him a look somewhere between suspicion and worry. He stopped in his tracks as well, Barty walked a bit further before he noticed -because Evan wasn’t next to him anymore- and also stopped.

Regulus looked around, then at Evan. “Shall we?”

Polyjuice potion was and will always be disgusting. Not just the taste but the idea that there’s hair in there made the experience overall disgusting. Then after being disgusted came a feeling of utter discomfort. It wasn’t exactly normal for a body to morph into another body; but it did, and it felt more than weird.

It wasn’t the first time either of them had taken polyjuice potion. Even though they weren’t real pranksters back at Hogwarts, there still was just a small part of them that enjoyed annoying others. Especially at a young age. Once, they turned into Snape and his mates just to cause them a whole lot of trouble. They had a reason to do so, because Mulciber had made Pandora out for something nasty. Whatever it was they didn’t remember but it was the last time they did something like that.

It took a few seconds, but after they were completely unrecognizable. Regulus as Rodolphus, Evan as Lucius and Barty as Narcissa.

Barty touched his face, the look on his face already sold what he was going to say.

“What the fuck I’ve got tits now.”

Regulus smacked the back of head, maybe a bit too hard. He had the strength of a much bigger man now. “That’s my cousin, shut up.”

Barty rolled his eyes, flicking his now long locks out of his face. “As if shagging your cousin isn’t just another tuesday in your family.” He said.

Another smack.

Meanwhile, Evan was having a lot less of a hard time focussing on the mission now that Barty looked like his cousin. Even when their shoulders touched, which they almost didn’t because Narcissa was a lot shorter than Lucius.

The remaining path to the mansion wasn’t that long, it was actually kind of nice because this way they could get used to the length of their legs and get into character.

The people in the mansion; the Death Eaters, they knew each other. Well. The three of them knew them as well, but there had no doubt been changes in people's personalities in the past year they had been absent. They had to very carefully anticipate what the other death eaters were expecting from them.

Them, as in Rodolphus, Lucius and Narcissa.

Now came the hardest part; taking down the people they had become. There couldn’t be two of each of them around the table. Someone would notice, a whole thing would start and people would die. Probably them.

But they had built a plan around this as well. They would each take down their own doppelganger, quietly.

They didn’t talk much as they approached the edge of the property. Their bag was left in the bush long before and they were fully committed to their bits.

Barty hooked his arm through Evan’s. A small gesture that was both genius and dared. Would Lucius and Narcissa do this? Maybe not, but at least it showed confidence. Evan wanted to scream and push him away; but that would just be a very bad idea. Though it would really help his own sanity.

Getting into the mansion wasn’t hard. They were in their death eater clothes, masks on and underneath they were people who were still allowed in there. Physically, it was just a single step through the massive wooden front doors.

Mentally it was an entirely different story. They had all been inside that mansion for so many times, fearing for their lives because the whole vibe of the building just radiated angst. This time around, they came with a purpose. Not to hear about another mass murder on a group of muggles, or to torture a muggle born until the only thing alive in them was their beating heart.

No, they came for the bigger good. And even though this made it even more scary and dangerous than it was back when they were at the same side, they didn’t feel it. Sure, all three of them were filled with adrenaline, but it was different. And they felt it the second they stepped over the threshold. For the next hour, they couldn't flinch, couldn't hesitate, couldn't exist.

The air inside the manor was the same, heavy with rot and old magic. A kind of air you could choke on if you weren’t used to it; like a non smoker would choke on a cigarette.

A Death Eater was waiting by the doors. There always was; one who wasn’t that important to the Dark Lord and probably wouldn’t last even a month there. They didn’t even notice until the death eater spoke.

“Narcissa, Lucius, I thought you weren’t coming?” It was a woman, someone with a good eye because they could see right through the masks. Maybe it had been a good call for Barty to take Evan’s arm?

Evan looked down at Barty, looking into his eyes- or Narcissa’s eyes, for help. “Well, we- uh.” He started, Barty slowly nodded as he stared back at him, gesturing to him to go on. “We found this was more important than anything else.”

The Death Eater tilted her head. “I thought your baby was sick?” She said, suspiciously. “Why are you still wearing your masks?”

Alright,. Masks off. That was fine, they were allowed to be there as long as they were in their borrowed skins. Back when the three of them were still with the Death Eaters, keeping the masks on was a custom. Maybe it was just for security.

The woman seemed less suspicious after seeing their actual faces, letting them go in as they pleased. Regulus didn’t speak, but that was fitting for Rodoplhus. He didn’t need to speak to prove it was him, he needed to radiate that he was Rodoplhus. Stand straight, look scary.

So, Narcissa and Lucius weren’t coming? That was one obstacle out of the way. They just had to find Rodolphus without being seen in the same room as him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 36: The Meeting

The remainder of the death eaters had greeted them with passing nods- no one dared to question the people they appeared as. There were a few new additions, but most Death Eaters were ones they recognized from long before. Snape, Mulciber, Dolohov, they were all there.

Taking down Rodolphus wasn’t hard at all. His aura radiated, taking up entire rooms and aside from that he was easy to spot due to the fact that he was quite tall. Barty had spotted him first, wasting no time as he tried his best to move his hips the way a woman would and not overdo it.

He spoke, voice controlled and as high pitched as he could.

“Rodolphus, Lucius wants a word.”

The real Rodoplhus looked up from the table where he was polishing his wand. He looked grumpy, annoyed, nothing unusual. “Now?”

Barty nodded once, then turned on his heels, the long blond and brown hair that did not belong to him fit him as if he’d never worn it any different.

“You’ve got five minutes before the Dark Lord gets here.” Someone, a new one, muttered from the corner.

Rodolphus followed Barty in silence, down a side hallway until they were far away from the others. The three of them knew the mansion like the back of their hands. Who thought that would come up useful?

The real Rodolphus narrowed his eyes at Barty when she stopped walking. “Malfoy, where-”

Regulus didn’t let him finish. It was one clean spell, just a flick of the wand before Evan caught the body tumbling towards the ground. He wasn’t dead, of course not, that wouldn’t bring them anything. He was just unconscious.

Barty raised his wand, levitating the body together with Evan towards an old wooden chair in the corner. They put a mask on his face, just for certainty. No one would come to this part of the mansion, but better to be safe than sorry. Then Regulus obliviated him, just the memory of ‘Lucius’ wanting to talk to him.

Evan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It was still his plan, and he was really worried about screwing it up. Barty looked at him, twirling his wand between his slender fingers. It was weird how clearly it was still him underneath his disguise.

“Too bad. I was hoping for a bit of a fight.” He said, smirking.

Regulus looked at Evan, then at Barty, then they all looked at each other. The mission had now really started.

They had about thirty seconds before the Dark Lord would arrive and joining the meeting late would mean all the attention on them, which would be quite an inconvenience. So they hurried, didn’t run, but they made it just in time.

Their spots at the table were still the same. Luckily, they had remembered exactly where Lucius, Narcissa and Rodolphus their assigned seats were. Regulus, Barty and Evans' seats had been filled up by some new death eaters they didn’t even recognize. One looked very young, seemingly just out of school, Durmstrang probably. The Dark Lord had been known to recruit people outside of Britain.

Then the Dark Lord entered. Neither of them really felt nervous, which was good because the Dark Lord could always feel it when people were. Still, seeing him, it felt weird. No one ever really saw him outside of the house. He usually didn’t do any dirty work, he’d just send out a group of Death Eaters and let them figure it out.

The feeling of death that had always surrounded him never left. It was still the same, worse even. That feeling was what used to thrive Barty, it used to put life into him and make him want to act out. It didn’t anymore, and Barty couldn’t be any more fine with it.

Everyone stood. It felt stupid, but it was what they had to do. There was no sound aside from the hasty shoving of chairs making it even clearer that some people around the table were very much scared of him. Probably the new ones.

“Take a seat.” He spoke in his demanding voice that could kill joy with a single note.

Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord. It felt illegal to know his real name. They often used it while talking about him to one another. Calling him the Dark Lord had become something they heavily aversed, because who’s lord was he? Not theirs, not anymore. And calling him Voldemort… that was still too risky.

After everyone was seated, the meeting officially started. It was dead silent at their side, only he spoke, mixed with the occasional stuttering Death Eater explaining their actions or why they screwed up.

Regulus remembered the meetings as if it were yesterday he’d last attended one. Nothing had changed, aside from the fact that the Dark Lord would often throw him these looks. A year back, Regulus was safe to say his favorite, and the Dark Lord wasn’t afraid to let that be known. He was everything that the Dark Lord wanted as a right hand. He never spoke much, and when he did he often said something useful. He was never scared of him, not clearly at least, and he never said no. He just did whatever he was told.

Regulus felt disgusted everytime a boundary was crossed, everytime he agreed to kill a muggle who didn’t do anything wrong. But he always did it, because deep down he was indeed scared. He had just always been very good at hiding it.

About fifteen minutes had passed and it still wasn’t clear why they had been called there. Was it just to chat about a failed mission and make a list of whoever had been murdered the past week?

No, it wasn’t. That became clear a few seconds later.

“Lestrange, please tell us what happened.”

Regulus’ head peaked up, his eyes a tiny bit wider than they were before but not enough for anyone else to notice. He was about to stutter out an answer when Bellatrix spoke up. Phew, he meant her.

“Well, my Lord. My fault at Gringotts has been broken into.” She said, her usually nasal voice sounded a bit shaky. “Nothing was taken.”

“Yet.” Said Dolohov, his face as angry as his voice. “What even is in there anyone would want besides your family’s money?”

The Dark Lord silenced him. Not with a spell but simply by putting up a single, skinny long finger. “I did not ask you to speak, Dolohov.” He said calmly, then turned back to Bellatrix. “What will you do about it?”

Bellatrix turned to Regulus, looking a bit lost and searching for help. Regulus sat up a bit straighter, not looking back at Bellatrix but staring directly at the Dark Lord. It was a dared move, but at least he did it with confidence.

“The needed measurements will be taken.” He said, voice low and controlled. His eyes were dark, fitting to the sinister tone. “Potential culprits will be taken down.”

The Dark Lord sat still for a beep, then smirked, pleased. “Good.” He said. “I will need you, Dolohov and Malfoy at this table in ten minutes. The rest of you, leave.”

Meetings were usually that short. This one had just been fifteen minutes of talking nonsense and one big subject, a reason why they were all called there. Though, this didn’t seem like such a big deal. Bellatrix’ fault was broken into? So what? It surely didn’t contain something that important? But if it didn’t, why did she seem so scared?

Unless…

They couldn’t speak yet. They were still in the snake's nest, their act had to stay up for just a bit longer.

As they walked away from the big table, Barty made sure to stay close to Evan, and Regulus wandered a few steps behind, closely followed by Bellatrix. She pulled him aside, whispering something to him the other two didn’t hear. She didn’t seem suspicious, just confused.

Evan and Barty kept walking away from them, staying close would only raise suspicion because Lucius, Narcissa and Rodoplhus weren’t the most likely trio. They survived the first part, definitely with some new information they desperately wanted to discuss.

Chapter Text

Chapter 37: The Prophecy

Barty pulled Evan into a hallway to the side right after it got a bit less crowded with Death Eaters. He yanked his hand, making him stumble behind.

“That was it. That’s where it is.” He whispered, an excited smile on his face. Well, Narcissa’s face.

Evan nodded, not as thrilled to hear the news as Barty was. “Yes, hidden in possibly the most secure place ever.” He whispered back.

Barty never liked reality checks, he just wanted to feel good about making this major discovery. He rolled his eyes, shoving Evan back a bit. “Aye way to kill the joy.” He said, a bit louder. It called the attention of someone- someone who was supposedly looking for them.

“Malfoys!” Dolohov yelled from a few feet away, at the start of the hallway. He made his way over to the two of them, strutting as he always did. Dolohov had this charming, almost vampire like appearance that would make any woman swoon. To Evan and Barty, he would always be the man who almost ‘accidentally’ killed Regulus on a mission.

Everyone had known back then, it hadn’t been an accident. Dolohov wanted his place; to be the Dark Lord’s right hand. Too bad for him he missed and even after Regulus ‘died’ he didn’t get his place.

Barty rolled his eyes again, less playful and more murderous this time. “What, Dolohov?”

“Damn, feisty Cissy.” Dolohov said, his tone was way too playful and flirty. He crossed his arms over each other. “Has Lucius got you fed up again?”

“Hey.” Evan said defensively, frowning.

“No, what do you want?” Barty asked, he did manage to keep his voice surprisingly high for a long time.

“Narcissa, you’re acting weird.” Dolohov noted, suspiciously tutting his lips as he really, really looked at Barty.

Then suddenly, Barty set up the girlies giggle he could. “Don’t be silly, Dolohov, I’m always like this.” He giggled.

Evan was freaking out. It was hard not to. Their masks were off, their potions would stop working any minute now and if it did they wouldn’t just be dead they would be done, over, nothing would remain of them because this was the Dark Lord’s home. And it was swarming with powerful death eaters.

Dolohov took a step away from Barty and closer to Evan. “What about you Malfoy? Where did your snarky remarks go?” He asked, just as suspicious- maybe even more than when he asked Barty. “Lost your edge after that break in?”

They know, they know, they know.

“Silly Lucius hadn’t slept at all after those bastards tried to take Draco.” Barty quickly said when he noticed Evan wasn’t going to. Then he took a step to his side, grabbing Evan’s hand and interlocking their fingers. “Such a good father, don’t you think?”

The suspicion dripped off of Dolohov just as fast as it had risen.

“Sure, whatever.” He said, his interest in the situation gone. “Don’t forget Lucius, the Dark Lord wants us and Lestrange back at the big table in five minutes.”

Evan nodded, still no words came out. Even though the biggest suspicion and threat had gone it was still just a matter of time before the potion would work off.

Fifteen minutes.

Dolohov was about to walk off before he spun around on his feet. “Wasn’t Lestrange just with you? Where did he go?” He asked, eyes narrowed.

Barty rolled his eyes, playfully. Merlin, was he a good actor. “I’m sure he just went to get something to drink.” He said convincingly, almost making it out as if Dolohov was being crazy and oversuspicious. “I’ll fetch him, you boys go to your meeting.”

Without so much as a second thought, Barty pulled Evan closer by their intertwined hand, making him lean down. Evan liked being taller; he and Barty were usually the same height. Though that wasn’t what he was thinking about. No, Evan was thinking about Barty’s mouth being so dangerously close to his. But it wasn't Barty's, it was Narcissa’s, and he wasn’t Evan but he was Lucius.

But deep down, it was still Barty and Evan.

Deep down, Barty kissed him. Soft, short and sweet. Exactly the way a married woman would kiss her husband goodbye.

The kiss was soft, practiced, calculated. It was over before Evan even registered the fact he was being kissed. Dolohov was long gone by then.

Evan made his way back over to the table in silence. He didn’t dare to look back at Barty, to see whatever look was in his eyes. Because if Barty were to look like he had just done the most casual thing ever, it would throw off the mission even further.

Regulus was already at the table by the time he arrived, neatly seated in the same spot as before. He looked neutral, still in his role. Dolohov was in his own chair as well. He looked smug -annoying- and confident. Something he never seemed back when the three of them were still Death Eaters.

The Dark Lord wasn’t going to sit down. He never did at meetings like these, not in private ones. It was intimidating, which was exactly what he was going for. He just came in, appeared from out of a dark corner. Dramatic, as usual- theatrical almost.

Nothing had changed about this, it was scary how much the meetings still went the same. How much this man still had the same effect on most people working for him, how he still scared the living hell out of people like Bellatrix.

The Dark Lord walked half a circle around the table so that he was at the opposite side of where his usual seat stood. His footsteps light, almost as if he floated, which sounded angelic but felt more devilish.

“As you know, the prophecy has been getting clearer.” The Dark Lord started, his long finger dragging over the edges of the chairs he was walking past. The length of his fingernails alone were probably enough to slice someone's throat, the sharpness only adding extra effect.

There hung a dark aura around the four of them. Darker than before, eerie and murderous.

Okay, a prophecy. As long as he didn’t ask them any questions, it would be fine.

“Lestrange, any information on where the Longbottoms are hiding out?”

Regulus looked up at the Dark Lord though -not his- dark eyelashes. He looked scary like that, bushy black eyebrows darkening the features of Rodoplhus Lestrange even further.

He scraped his throat. “Not yet, my Lord.” He said, maintaining eye contact. This was very in character for Lestrange, so he did well.

“Disappointing.” The Dark Lord said, though his tone didn’t sound like it. “What about you Dolohov, anything on the Potters?”

Evan’s eyes shot to Regulus immediately. He could see Regulus’ entire demeanor changing from the big and scary act he was putting up back to his own. His eyes widened, his shoulders tensed and he looked like he was about to either cry or throw hands- a weird look on someone like Lestrange.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Dolohov said, crossing his arms over one another, clearly impressed with himself. “Their son does match the description, and I’m getting closer to their location every day.”

Voldemort looked unimpressed, but content. “Good.” He said, slowly, then turned to Evan.

Evan was still looking at Regulus, who looked like he might have a panic attack and yet sat completely still on his chair.

“Malfoy, are you still dealing with the order like you promised to at our last meeting?” The Dark Lord asked, moving closer to his chair.

Evan finally looked away from Regulus to stare at the table. His heart caught in his throat, beating faster and faster. The Dark Lord definitely noticed, he always did.

“Yes, my lord.” He said, his voice too high to match Lucius Malfoy’s but at least he was able to answer without his voice cracking. “I’ve got them under control.”

The Dark Lord smiled, clinically. “Good.” He said- whispered, almost. Then he turned to the whole table, not looking at anyone in particular and looking at them all at the same time. “I will not let a child bring us down, let that be clear. The boy born at the end of july must die, no matter how much sacrifice it takes.”

The meeting was quickly adjourned after that. Regulus had stormed off and out of the building before Bellatrix could even ask him a question. Evan knew what he was going to do, and he had to stop him before he did something that all of them would regret.

Evan stormed through the large hallways of the mansion, running into Barty halfway. He’s almost forgotten about the kiss, now just focussed on making sure Regulus didn’t rat out their entire plan.

“Hey, what-”

“Walk.” Evan ordered.

So, Barty did. Their potions stopped working the second they stepped into the large forest surrounding the mansion, their normal looks finally returning and their safety net falling away. They had to move, they had to regroup with Regulus.

Barty asked no more questions until they were back at the spot they left their bag at, finding Regulus crouching over it, manically searching for something.

Evan put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Reg-”

“Where are our normal clothes?” Regulus asked, in a panic.

Barty frowned. “Can someone explain-”

“Shut the fuck up Crouch, where are our clothes?” Regulus asked again, more importunate. He didn’t look up at him, just kept ruffling through the bag.

“In the bushes.” Barty quickly said, earning an annoyed side eye from Evan. He moved to crouch down next to Regulus, watching him basically have a panic attack. “Can you calm down? What happened in that meeting?”

Regulus frantically shook his head. “No, I have to go.” He breathed. “I have to find him.”

“No, you don’t.” Evan said, jumping in. He grabbed Regulus’ wrist to stop his movement. “You’re not blowing our cover after we’ve gotten this far!”

Regulus looked up at him this time. There were tears in his eyes. Actual, real tears. But they weren’t from sadness, they were from sheer panic.

“Fuck off Evan, you don’t understand!” He said, the emotion reached his voice. It was raw, aggressive.

“I don’t, but that doesn’t matter!”

Barty straightened himself back up, put a hand on Evan’s shoulder and sighed. “Evan-”

“Don’t meddle, Barty. You don’t know what happened.” Evan said, less aggressive but still annoyed. “It’s not about the mission.”

“Let him go.”

Regulus was already out of the robes and in his normal clothes by then, his movements calmed down a bit but he was still determined with his actions.

Evan groaned, but he knew he would never be able to stop him. “If this kills us, I’ll kill you.”

“Go back to camp, explain everything to Barty, I’ll be back.”

Regulus disapperated before anyone could make another sound.

Chapter Text

Chapter 38: Staring Death in the Eyes

James had another fight with Lily. It was a big one, big enough to drive him out of the house and away for at least a while. It was stupid, really. It was about a teacup.

The teacup had been in the sink for a few hours and Lily had asked him to clean it a few times. James was busy, Order stuff, personal stuff. He’d told her he’d do it later, which was the wrong answer of course because no answer was the right answer when it came to Lily. He could’ve said ‘yes dear, right away’ and she would still have found a reason to yell at him.

It was really stupid, but all of their fights were. It was all just built up tension they were letting out on each other.

James was done. He hated leaving Harry but he just needed some room to breathe. Luckily, Remus and Sirius never sold the apartment they got right after Hogwarts, when life was simpler and they weren’t all hiding together in safe houses yet. James had the key, and he often went there when he wanted to be alone.

Which had been about every other day the past few weeks.

A lot of days he just came there to pace around the living room and mumble every thought going through his mind out loud. It helped him cope.

And so he did again, pace and sulk and feel sorry for himself. Every few turns his head snapped towards the door. He wasn’t sure why; but he felt like something was standing on the other side of it. Not necessarily a person; but a presence definitely. Someone who wasn’t there but also was there at the same time.

At first he thought he was going crazy. But then it was around two in the afternoon when the doorbell rang. Aside from everything Moody had ever told him about safety and privacy during war, James felt like he had to open it. So he did, because he was already high up in his feelings so what if it were a Death Eater ready to kill him? He’d just kill them back.

But it wasn’t a Death Eater.

Well, not quite a Death Eater.

The door opened with a creaking sound, one that belonged in a horror movie. James already knew who it was when he had barely opened it; there was only one person who smelled like peppermint and newly bought parchment.

His person.

His hair was longer. Not by a bit but by a lot. He had gotten bigger, more rugged. His once slightly sharp features were ready to cut through glass.

At the same time; he hadn’t changed. Not his stance; the way he presented himself through the way he moved. Not his eyes, those that gave it all away in the first place. They hung heavier; maybe a bit darker but they were so clearly his.

Regulus Black didn’t speak when the door opened. He just stared, deep into James’ eyes.

James slammed the door shut. He was so sure he saw a ghost. It didn’t feel real, it didn’t look real. He had to be going crazy right? All those nights thinking Regulus was alive and he was finally being proven right.

No, this wasn’t real. He couldn’t be here, it was impossible. Even though James knew, or he thought he knew, it felt unreal that he was just there. Alive, breathing, real.

James wanted to touch him, to grab his arm and feel if it really was him standing at the front door of the apartment. He had to be sure, he had to find out if this wasn’t some sick hallucination.

But then, he wanted to punch him. He wanted to hit him, hurt him. James wanted Regulus to feel pain, emotional pain. The pain that he’s been feeling for the past few months.

He also wanted to hold him, to have him in his arms again. To feel loved by the only one who ever really knew how. He wanted to feel the warmth of his once only person in the world against his skin. He wanted to pull him in, tuck his head under his chin so he could smell his hair.

James wanted to kiss him. He wanted to feel Regulus’ breath against his lips, or maybe he just wanted to breathe him in entirely.

A whole bucket list could’ve been filled with everything James wanted to do at that moment. Did he do any of it?

No. Not at first.

Instead, after taking a deep breath and trying not to spiral, James opened the door again.

Regulus was still staring, immediately finding James’ eyes again. He wasn’t sure what he should say.

Hello? That’d be too casual.

Surprise? That would just be cynical.

“James…” Was all Regulus could get out in a faint, barely audible whisper. His voice almost sounded as if he hadn’t spoken in years, broken and mangled.

And what did James Potter do?

He did all of the above.

He took a step forward, very carefully. As if moving too quickly would knock Regulus over and make him disappear again. Then he slowly reached out. He didn’t speak, that would ruin it. He wouldn’t know what to say.

Regulus stood perfectly still. He knew what he would do if he moved. Terrible things, terrible, terrible things. Because James was married. But he wasn’t going to push James away when he touched him. Not a bone in his body was strong enough to do that; not after all those years.

So he didn’t.

He let him reach for his hands, let him rediscover his knuckles, his skin and the veins running through it.

Then, after grounding himself by touch, James pulled him close with force. Regulus collapsed against his chest; not on purpose, but nothing in him complained.

James still held the same.

He’d gotten a bit bigger; maybe an inch or two taller. But he held the same, he felt the same and he smelled the same.

Not a single sound was made as they stood there, quietly embracing each other. It was just as beautiful as it was awkward, the line between those two had seemed to become a jumping rope.

The embrace didn’t last long. Or maybe it did, but it felt like seconds before-

Before James pushed him off, roughly, something unlike James. And then without warning he smacked him, right against the cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark but enough to leave a tingling sensation.

And Regulus? He let it happen. Whatever reaction James had to have, it was fine.

James stared at him for a second, Regulus stared back.

Then James kissed him. Passionately, desperately. As if he were dying from thirst and Regulus was the first water source in miles.

Loving, longing, everything in that kiss made clear how much he had missed him.

Then it went deeper, he pulled Regulus into the apartment by his collar; never breaking the kiss. He pushed him against the wall, slipped off Regulus’ coat, then his own shirt.

James finally got Regulus’ shirt open and shoved it off him, letting it fall somewhere on the floor. He barely looked -couldn’t look- just pressed himself in closer, mouths dragging over each other, gasping between kisses that tasted like salt and anger and heartbreak.

Somewhere in the chaos, Regulus found James’ belt, fumbling with the buckle. James growled against his mouth -a sound that was more animal than man- and lifted him slightly off the ground in the process of kicking his shoes off. They were tangled together so tightly now that it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began.

The prophecy would come up eventually. For now, all they needed was to feel.

Chapter Text

Chapter 39: Do It To Me

After Evan explained everything to Barty, a wave of exhaustion fell over them. Pretending to be other people in a mission with such high stakes had been more than stressful, even if it was just for an hour.

Regulus wasn’t back yet, but neither of them expected him to be. Whatever he was doing, they finally agreed it was something he had to do. Evan calmed down during their travel back to the tent.

“Evan, it’s Regulus. Come one.” He had said, too gentle and understanding. It didn’t even sound like Barty.

Honestly, what on earth was happening to Barty ‘no strings’ Crouch. He was turning soft, as if he had finally figured out the meaning of the word empathy. Not that this made him any less scary, his edge was still there and he looked just as terrifying when he wanted to as before.

The two of them had settled back down in the tent without many words being spoken. Barty was busy thinking about Regulus. Yes, he trusted that man with his life. But at the same time a normal Regulus was barely an example of emotional stability, all Barty could imagine was exposing himself to the entire order and getting himself killed.

And Evan? He had gone back to thinking about that kiss. He didn’t know how to feel- or maybe he just didn’t understand his own feelings. Whatever it was, it made his brain fuzzy. Was he overthinking it?

But then he was also thinking about what was said during the meeting. Him and Barty had talked about it on the way back, but they didn’t have a lot more to say after they talked about Bellatrix’ fault, and what it could possibly contain. They’d decided to wait for Regulus before making any impulsive decisions.

They laid in silence for about an hour, staring at the ceiling with an occasional sigh or groan. Evan had started reading a book, whereas Barty was busy throwing a piece of paper against the tent roof over and over again.

It was annoying, but then Evan also didn’t want it to be completely silent so he didn’t say anything. He just kept reading the same book he had read before over and over again, because he was definitely missing something.

Evan had been living with a secret. Not the one about his undeniable crush on Barty. No- this one was about the mission.

Inside this particular book, there was a small paragraph written on the back of an empty page:

‘Objects stronger than magic can only be destroyed by something worse than magic.’

Yes, okay, that made sense. They had known that for a while. Evan didn’t understand why that sentence set his brain off this much, because it wasn’t news. But it was almost as if reading it triggered something inside of him to dig deeper and figure out what that ‘thing worse than magic’ was.

“Should we get a fire started? It’s getting chilly.” Barty sat up, suddenly, but almost on cue.

Fire.

Worse than magic.

Fiendfyre.

Evan sat up as well, the realisation coming over him like a wave in a rugged ocean crashing against a cliff. His eyes were wide, and pointed at Barty.

Barty raised his eyebrows. “Why do you look like I just cursed your entire family?”

“I think I’ve got it.” Evan spoke up, in disbelief of his own words. There was a smile on his face that looked like it could’ve been a question. “I’ve got the spell, I know what to do.”

“The spell?” Barty asked, tilting his head. He looked tired- was, tired.

Evan crawled over to Barty, opening the book and pointing at the sentence he’d been reading over and over.

“Something worse than magic.” Barty read out loud, eyebrows furrowed. Then he turned to Evan. “So like dark curses?”

Evan hesitated, then shook his head. “No exactly.”

“Oh for Merlin's sake tell me what you mean.”

“You’ve always had so much patience.” Evan noted, earning himself an eye roll.

But then he explained, and Barty’s attitude changed completely. He was no longer annoyed, or bored. He was watching Evan speak like he was the inventor of everything to ever exist.

“Brilliant.” He mumbled after Evan was done talking. “Absolutely brilliant.”

Evan blushed, watching as he closed the book on his lap. “Yeah, well, now we just have to figure out how we’re going to do it.”

“Can’t we just throw the spell at it and run?”

“If you have a death wish.” Evan said, then sighed as he ran his hand through his greasy hair. “Fiendfyre seeks out things that have life in them and destroys them until nothing is left. It will probably destroy the horcrux, yes, but it will also destroy us.”

Barty groaned, letting himself fall back down against his airbed. “Why is there always a chance of dying during this mission?” He complained.

Evan shrugged, watching Barty stretch, not that focussed on the subject matter anymore.

Whatever, they had to wait for Regulus anyways.

Evan’s cheeks were rosy. Both from the compliment Barty had given him before -even though it had been minutes since- and due to the cold. And maybe also because Barty revealed a whole lot of skin when he stretched.

Then it was quiet again, and Evan got back to thinking. About everything he was thinking about before.

If not now, when?

“Barty?”

Barty hummed in response to his name, not looking up but he was listening.

Evan watched Barty lay for a few seconds before he spoke up again, reluctant.

“You kissed me.”

Barty shot up, almost knocking into Evan in the process. His eyes were somewhat widened and his eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Back at the Dark Lord’s mansion. You kissed me.” Evan didn’t even hesitate, it had to be now.

There was a tiny moment of silence before Barty found his tongue.

“I-”

“That wasn’t part of the plan.” Evan didn’t even let him speak, or explain himself just yet. Barty had to know exactly how he had made him feel by doing that. By kissing him, during a mission with high stakes which would have potentially been fatal.

Barty’s eyes finally found his. They stared at each other, only the sound of the woods and its life letting them know time hadn’t stopped entirely.

“Dolohov wouldn’t have believed us otherwise.” Barty said, and even though he seemed convinced by that it would’ve been clear to anyone he was doubting his own answer.

“He was about to leave.” Evan argued. Calm.

Barty wasn’t calm anymore. He barely ever was. “His suspicion was still there.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well it helped, didn’t it? Why do you even care?”

“Because you’ve been looking at me, Barty!” Evan yelled, now ready to fight whatever Barty would throw at him. “You’ve been watching me, you’ve been touching me, you held my hand more than once. And then you kissed me? And you’re asking me why I care?”

Barty shrugged, ripping his eyes away from Evan. “I’m just a touchy person, Evan. You know this.” His voice was softer, as if he didn’t think this subject was worth a fight.

“No, because you only do this to me.”

“I do that to everyone.”

“You don’t do it to Regulus.”

Barty was quiet for a few seconds, at a loss of words. Because why didn't he? How would he ever explain?

Evan moved closer. That could indicate a lot of things. He was going to hit him, scream in his face, curse him. He didn’t though, he just moved close enough to not leave any space for doubt and regret.

Then he tilted his head. “Why do you do it to me?”

“Evan-”

“Shut up.”

And then he kissed him.

It wasn’t a sweet kiss, it was rough. All teeth and feelings desperate to finally come out after months of fighting and tension between the two of them. Evan leaned in fast, grabbing Barty’s collar like he needed to hold on to something or else he would float away. Their breaths hitched, and there was a moment of silence in which neither of them moved.

Then Barty kissed him back.

Hard.

His hands found Evan’s jaw, curling around it as if he couldn’t believe it was real, as if he didn’t know how to handle it if it ever ended. The kiss was messy, raw, urgent- everything the two of them were came together as one and it fitted like a glove. Neither of them knew what they were doing, just that this was everything they had. Everything they needed.

Evan made a soft noise, some between a gasp and a laugh, before he broke the kiss. He leaned his forehead against Barty’s, his eyes still closed.

“Do you do this to everyone as well?”

Barty’s eyes opened to look at him-- really look at him. He let out a soft laugh of defeat, then spoke in a hoarse voice. “No.”

And then he kissed him again. Softer, as if he understood now.

Chapter Text

Chapter 40: The Morning After

It was weird not waking up to birds chirping and wind rustling through leaves.

Instead, Regulus woke up to the sound of someone breathing very loudly into his ear.

It took him a few seconds to remember where he was-- and how badly he screwed up. He cursed, sitting up in the bed that did not belong to him where he had been sleeping in the arms of someone he wasn’t supposed to be with.

Regulus rubbed his hand over his face, memories of last night getting back, hitting him like a bus. He shook James who was still sleeping beside him, waking him.

James opened his eyes, so slight that you’d only notice very close by. “Go away, Pads.”

“Wrong brother.”

Then James sat up, immediately, pulling multiple muscles and hitting his head against Regulus’.

“Shit, sorry, glasses.” He apologized, reaching over to grab his glasses from the nightstand. Once he put them on and could finally see Regulus fully, he smiled. “I was scared I dreamt that.”

Regulus bit his lip, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, well, you didn’t.”

Guilt was eating him alive. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He came over to tell James about the prophecy, maybe explain why he wasn’t dead and then leave. Not to have sex with a married man. But somewhere between seeing him and speaking, everything else had fallen away.

But James didn’t seem to feel that way. Why?

“Are you alright?” James asked, placing his hand on Regulus' shoulder blade.

Regulus' breath caught in his throat, the spot where James’ hand touched his bare skin felt like it was on fire. Merlin, was Regulus still in love with this man. He leaned away from the touch, he couldn’t get distracted away from the big picture again. He had to tell him, then leave.

“James.” Regulus started, there was a clear presence of guilt in his voice as well. “I-”

“You’re not leaving.” James said, immediately. He took a tight hold of Regulus’ wrist, almost too tight.

Regulus let his head fall down with a groan. “You’re making this really hard.”

“You just got back, Reg.”

His voice was soft, like the morning. James wasn’t begging. He wasn’t pleading. He was calm, collected, nothing like Regulus remembered him. The day they broke up James was all of the above, he was a mess begging on his knees for Regulus to join the order, not him.

But maybe that wasn’t him anymore? The soft words he spoke felt like a warm hug, as something he couldn’t refuse but he should’ve.

“I can’t stay.” Regulus whispered, though it barely came out as a sound.

James didn’t let go of his wrist. He didn’t seem angry, or disappointed or sad, even. He just stared at him with those big brown eyes Regulus hated to say no to.

“Then why come back at all?”

Regulus sighed, then brushed the hand of his free wrist through his hair. It was greasy, he should shower.

“I have to tell you something.” He said, “But you can’t ask me how I know, and you can’t tell anyone you got it from me… or that I’m alive at all.”

James let out a scoff. “You’re joking, right?” He asked, only to be met by Regulus’ blank expression. “You can’t ask me to do that.”

“Then I’ll obliviate you and leave a note.” Regulus said as he shook his wrist free, already getting up to do just as he said. If James wasn’t going to comply, he would do it the hard way.

He took his wand from the cabinet a few feet away, pointing it at James with a kind of collected strength no one else in just underwear could ever show. And somehow, even half-dressed, he looked even more terrifying.

James sat up quickly, “No!” He yelled, already reaching for his wand in case Regulus would actually obliviate him. He liked to think he wouldn’t, but when had Regulus even been predictable?

Regulus crossed his arms. “Do we have a deal then?”

“Never got that sas out did you?” James asked with a smirk, but Regulus just stared at him with an unreadable expression. James groaned. “Fine!”

“Good.” Regulus said, then sat back down, the bed dipping in where his weight leaned. “Don’t freak out.”

James gave him a soft smile. “Really telling me that now?” He asked. “There was a ghost at my door last night, I think I’ll be fine.”

“You hugged me, hit me and then kissed me.”

“Yes, calmly.” James crossed his arms over his chest.

Regulus raised his eyebrows, kind of amused. “That was you being calm?” He asked, “Even the sex?”

“That was…” James started, then scratched the back of neck with a soft defeated laugh. “Not that calm.”

“That’s what I thought.”

There were a few seconds of silence before they both spoke again.

“So-”

“Well-”

They looked at each other with a kind of recognition they could only find in one another. This was the first time they really looked one another in the eye since the night before. It was quiet again, but a different kind of quiet.

Then James laughed again, and all Regulus could hear were nights in Gryffindor tower, hiding in plain sight. Soft nights, quiet nights where this exact laughter would fill up his heart and head. Nights when things were easier, when there wasn’t a war yet and their biggest concern was Sirius finding out about them.

“You talk, I’ll listen.” James suggested, snapping Regulus out of his trance.

Regulus nodded. His mouth felt dry all of a sudden because it hadn’t hit him yet just how much he missed what they were.

“Well.” He said, swallowing deeply, trying to get back to his usually collected self. “There’s a prophecy.”

James tilted his head. “O-kay?”

“It’s about a boy, born at the end of July.” Regulus went on, trying to ignore the lump forming in his throat as he watched James’ face turn to panic. “He uh- the dark lord wants him dead. Because the prophecy said he will be the one to destroy him- the chosen one.”

James’ breath hitched. His eyes were big and filled with fear for what this would mean. “You think…”

He already knew. He didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s Harry.” Regulus finished, apologetically even though he hadn’t done anything to provoke this. “It’s your son.”

The room fell quiet again, with a whole different kind of tension this time. James wasn’t calm anymore, he was furious.

“James I know-”

“How long have you known? Were you ever planning to tell me — or just watching to see what happened first?”

“James, please-”

“Who told you this?” James asked, not letting him finish. He looked like he was ready to murder anyone who stood between him and the answer to his question. “Who, Regulus?”

“I overheard-”

“No you didn’t, you didn’t overhear.” James’ voice cracked slightly, like he didn’t want to believe what he was saying. “You’re still with them.”

James got up from the bed, moving over to his clothes without breaking his line of sight with Regulus. Almost as if he was afraid he would attack him if he did.

Regulus shook his head. “I promise you I-”

“You didn’t just ‘hear’ this. You knew. You came here knowing.” His voice was shaking now. “Merlin, Regulus- I let you in. I let you near us. You knew about Harry- what the hell did I do!”

“James-”

“I can’t believe this happened, I cheated on my wife with a Death Eater who came over to kill my child.” James said, the humor of it all getting to him. He let out a manic laugh, grabbing his hair and pulling it. “And you know where we’re staying, because you were there. I know you were. And you’re going to tell him.”

“James Fleamont Potter!” Regulus yelled, his face slightly red from anger mixed with another emotion he couldn’t quite describe.

James fell quiet, he stopped moving to find his clothes and stared at Regulus. His eyes got the teeniest bit less crazy.

“I am not with him.” Regulus said, very clearly emphasizing on it. “I will not tell you how I know right now, maybe never. But that does. not. matter, yes? This is about you protecting your son, so take my word or leave it at this. At least I did what I could.”

James sighed, sadly almost. “I don’t know how to trust you, Regulus.”

Regulus stared at him. He understood like no one else, the feeling of not being able to trust someone, even though you really want to.

“Why would I trust you now? make me trust you.”

If not now, when?

“Because I love you, James.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 41: Burning Tension

The morning was quiet.

It wasn’t filled with tension and fear of what would come. For once, there was peace. A kind of calmth Evan could only ever remember feeling before the war, laying on the grass with his sister. The kind of quiet that only a silencing spell could cast over, complete and utter silence.

Quiet never lasted long in war, and neither did a peaceful feeling.

“Morning.” Barty said when he noticed Evan was awake. His voice was rough, it almost sounded like he was sick or had been crying.

Evan looked up at him immediately, then he noticed. Barty definitely didn’t sleep. His eyes hung low and face was pale, even more so than usual.

“Are you alright?” Evan asked, tilting his head.

After their kiss from the night before, they had talked for a bit. Not about the kiss— they weren’t ready for that yet. About the horcruxes, the new information they got at the mansion, the hopes they had for the future.

Evan had gone to sleep feeling at peace, feeling like maybe they could win this, and finally start their lives. Maybe even together.

Barty clearly hadn’t gone to sleep feeling well. He hadn’t slept at all, or if he had, it had been a bad sleep. One that only would’ve tired him out more, filled with nightmares. Bartyt never looked very… well rested, but this was different.

“Yea.” He replied shortly. He didn’t try to look at Evan, very much avoiding him actually. “Seen Regulus yet?”

Evan shook his head. “No.” He replied, slowly getting on his feet. “He must’ve stayed over.”

“You think they did it?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “What are you twelve, barty?” He asked with a scoff. “They’re adults.”

Barty shrugged off the answer and laid back down. A different kind of silence fell over the tent, this time filled with tension instead of peace.

“Did you sleep?” Evan asked.

Barty slowly shook his head no, then turned to finally look at Evan. “Why?”

Evan bit the inside of his cheek. “You look like shit.”

Then Barty sighed. It was the kind of sigh an adult giving a little kid bad news would let out. A devastated kind of sigh, let out before having to tell something they didn’t want to tell.

Something inside Evan twisted — tight, hot, sharp. But he didn’t show it. Of course he didn’t.

“Last night, Evan.” He started, then paused for a second.

Evan already knew what was coming. He had gotten his hopes up, stupidly, and it would come crashing down at him like the bricks of a building being blown up. Hard and painful. His muscles stiffened, and his face fell blank.

Then Barty went on, carefully. Evan knew what he was going to say, but he didn’t understand why he was having such a hard time with it. It really was a common thing to come out of Barty’s mouth. “That didn’t mean anything, okay?”

And even though Evan wanted to scream, cry, throw up and do everything to hurt barty in the same way he was getting hurt by those words- he didn’t. No. He said, very collected, almost scary; “I know.”

Barty frowned, the skin of his forehead forming into thin lines as the centre of his brows.

“I mean it.” He said, like that was needed.

Evan still didn’t scream, he just tilted his head as he let his eyes wander over Barty’s tired face..

“Okay.”

Barty let out a laugh, confused, and also maybe a bit scared. Had Evan cracked? Had he gone crazy? Was he even talking to the real Evan?

“I…” Barty mumbled. “I thought you liked me.”

Then Evan let out a soft laugh that didn’t reach his eyes in the slightest. It made him look manic, like a murderer standing on top of a dead body laughing as he’s thinking back to his actions.

“Then why did you kiss me, barty?”

Barty shrugged. It was clearly meant to be a casual ‘whatever’ kind of shrug, but it didn’t show. Instead, he let out a shaky breath. The kind of shaky breath Barty always let out when he was about to lie. One that no one noticed. No one but Evan, because Evan paid attention. “I wanted to.”

Evan scoffed, still not in an angry way. Just a scoff.

“Really? That desperate for someone to touch you?”

“Maybe, what is it to you?”

“Never mind Barty.” Evan scoffed, getting up from his airbed. “Let’s just never speak of this again.”

---

“Because I love you, James.”

Silence. Regulus’ confession was followed by nothing but silence.

“Please, James. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t care.”

James just stared at him.

What was he supposed to say? He had been waiting for years to hear those words come out of Regulus’ mouth. He had yearned for it, begged for someone, anyone to give him a sign Regulus Black had actually loved him and not used him.

And there it was.

Regulus sighed, raking his hand through his curls before he got up. He got dressed in silence while James kept staring at the sheets like they murdered his mother. He wasn’t sure what he expected James to respond, but it was definitely more than silence. James didn’t even have to return the feelings, he just needed to accept that Regulus did have those feelings.

Maybe that was selfish, but Regulus allowed him to be selfish around James. He never was anywhere else.

No words were exchanged as Regulus walked out of the room, no one followed, no questions were asked. This wasn’t how he wanted to leave, especially since he wasn’t sure if he’d ever come back. He didn’t have to come back. He had told James what he’d been wanting to tell for so long. The only thing he had left to say that gave him a reason to live.

Regulus almost came to peace with the fact he wouldn’t get to say goodbye. Maybe it would be better not to. He didn’t the first time and that-- well that’s not a very good example. He almost came to peace with it, but James came back to earth right before Regulus was able to slip out of the apartment. And he couldn’t have been more glad.

“Reg…” James let out, low and rough with sleep. He was standing just around the corner of the kitchen, the front door and therefore Regulus were barely visible.

“Protect your family, James.” Regulus said, “Don’t come looking for me.”

James shook his head. “Don’t go yet.” He said. It wasn’t a plea, though it was close. “We have so much more to talk about.”

It was almost sad. No, scratch that-- it was sad. Because they did have so much to talk about. They’ve had to live two separate lives for almost four years, James thinking he was dead for at least one of those. But that wasn’t even why it was sad. It was sad because Regulus wanted to stay and talk just as much as James wanted him to.

“I’m sorry James.”

James sighed, letting his shoulder slump and his head fall down like a puppy getting denied a treat. “Will you come back?”

Regulus let out a soft laugh, which was more of awe than of humor. “Don’t I always?”

“A definitive yes or no would really help my mental state right now.”

“I don’t know, James.” Regulus replied, honestly. Because he didn’t know. He couldn’t promise. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Regulus opened the door, James crossed the room in seconds. He slammed his flat hand against the door, forcing it closed. He hovered over Regulus with an unreadable look in his eyes. Well, Regulus thought he knew what it meant.

“Kiss me.”

“James, you’re married.”

James took off his wedding ring, throwing it on the couch. “Kiss me.”

“You-”

Before Regulus could protest, James crashed his lips against his.

It was messy. Desperate. Not a question, but a demand — one James had no right to make, and one Regulus couldn’t stop himself from answering. Their mouths collided like a storm, like years of silence and longing and resentment had boiled over all at once. Regulus stumbled, but James held on, one hand in his hair, the other clutching the back of his neck like Regulus was something fragile he couldn’t afford to drop.

Regulus kissed him back. Hard. Angry. Hungry. Just for a moment — just to taste what he’d spent years convincing himself he didn’t want anymore.

And then he pulled away.

The air between them felt scorched. James looked dazed, lips parted, breathing heavy. Like he'd come up for air and realized he was still drowning.

Regulus stepped back.

“No,” he said softly. “We don’t get to do this.”

James looked like he was going to argue — some desperate thing flickering in his eyes — but Regulus didn’t give him the chance. He bent down, picked the wedding ring up off the couch, and pressed it into James’ palm.

“Go home, Potter.”

And then he turned and left, slamming the door behind him hard enough to echo down the corridor.

Chapter Text

Chapter 42: Regrouping

Regulus didn’t say anything after getting back to the tent.

He was planning to get back in silence, ask Evan and Barty what they had been up to and then dig into the new information the previous mission had given them.

That was the plan.

But then Evan tilted his head slightly, and said. “Are you okay?”

Never ask someone who clearly doesn’t look fine if they’re feeling fine. It will definitely end in tears.

Regulus Black wasn’t one to cry. He was more the kind of person to continuously say ‘I’m so very sad’ without actually showing any emotion. The kind of person who had the lead in a psychological thriller. So, he didn’t cry. But he didn’t say he was sad either. Because he wasn’t. He had, for the first time, no idea how he had to feel about all this.

Regulus was determined, he always knew what he wanted and what was good for him. He liked that he was wired that way. Otherwise, they would’ve never even gotten to hunting horcruxes. Feeling this lost and confused made Regulus spiral, panic, hyperventilate.

Merlin, he really was hyperventilating.

“Woah, sit down.” Evan instructed as he took Regulus’ shoulders and pushed him down to the dried up dirt.

Regulus let himself sink to the floor, still breathing unnecessarily quick and shallow.

Barty looked at Regulus, then turned to Evan. “What do we do?” He whispered.

“I don’t know Barty, kill him?” Evan replied sarcastically. “We calm him down, like friends.”

Barty nodded quickly. “Right.” He said, then he crouched down next to Regulus. He put his hand on his shoulder, “There there.”

Regulus looked up at Barty through his eyelashes, his breath slightly slowing as he let out a very rushed laugh. “You’re terrible at this.”

“He’s not really one to consider people’s feelings.” Evan said, quick and impulsive. As if he tried to keep it in but just had to say it.

Barty threw him a look. A look of warning, combined with a dangerous presence of provocation. “I wasn’t aware there were any feelings to consider.”

“How could you be, you don’t notice anything?”

Regulus’ breathing had slowed down by then, more focussed on whatever was happening between those two over his own problems. He raised his eyebrows, still slightly out of breath. “So, had a good night you two?”

Barty rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Lovely.”

They replied in unison. Regulus nodded, slowly. “Alright then.”

There was a tiny moment of silence in which it wasn’t exactly clear whether Evan and Barty were planning to kill each other or if they were just having a very intense stare-off. Then Evan turned to Regulus, finally acknowledging the fact that he had stopped hyperventilating.

“How did it go?” He asked, crouching down to the same level as him and Barty, trying very clearly not to make eye contact with the latter. “Did you find him?”

Regulus smiled, softly, a little guilty maybe. “I knew where he would be.” He admitted. “I used to follow him sometimes when we were still Death Eaters.”

“Disturbing.” Barty commented.

Evan pushed Barty over, making him fall off his feet and onto the dirt. “But you told him right?” He asked, intrigued, “About the prophecy?”

Regulus nodded, “Yeah.”

“How did he take it?” Evan followed up.

Then Regulus explained everything. He could’ve kept it a secret, he should’ve. Regulus from two years ago would be so angry with him for sharing all these private details about his life. But he did tell, and it helped him a lot. It calmed him down a bit, he felt safe with his friends.

After he told them the whole story; how he went over to his brother’s apartment where he knew James would be, how James had gone through all the stages of grief before finally kissing him. How he spent the night, how he told him he loved him the next morning. How James hadn’t responded, but kissed him again. That James had taken off his wedding ring to prove a point.

“So you had sex?” Barty asked after everything.

Evan flicked him against the ear. “Maybe just stop talking altogether, Crouch.”

“That’s actually none of your concern, Barty.” Regulus added, then a few seconds of silence, then he sighed. “But we did, yes.”

Barty raised one eyebrow, provocatively. “Nice.”

“No, Barty.” Evan said, about to flick him again but Barty dodged him this time.

Regulus shrugged. “I mean it was very nice.”

“I’m surrounded by animals.” Evan sighed, disappointed.

They sat with Regulus for a few seconds, then Barty asked what they were both afraid of.

“Did you tell him what we’re doing?”

Regulus quickly shook his head. “No, definitely not.” He promised. “I couldn’t bring myself to, not now that we’re so close.”

Barty nodded, relieved. “So he doesn’t know about us either?”

“I mean, he’s not stupid.” Evan said, answering for him. “I’m sure he knows.”

Regulus bit his lip, letting the question sit for a while before he answered. “He does know, I think.” He said. “But I didn’t tell him, he saw you two.”

“During that one mission?”

Regulus nodded.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, they just had to be extra careful with it. If James Potter thought for only a second they were still the bad guys, it would definitely mean their end. The order might’ve been smaller than the Dark Lord’s army, but they were sure as Godric smarter than them.

They talked a bit more about everything James and Regulus had talked about. James had shared a few tiny details about the order he regretted immediately. Regulus wouldn’t use them against him, but it was still good to have some leverage in the case of a fight breaking out.

“So what were you two up to last night?” Regulus asked after they were done talking about James.

Evan blushed.

Barty cleared his throat. “Reading.”

“Found anything useful?” Regulus didn’t look twice at the way the two of them reacted, or the way their body language clearly showed discomfort.

Evan nodded quickly, rushing into the tent and coming back with the book that made him realize everything about the fiendfyre. He explained what he read, what he thought and what they had to do. Regulus agreed to everything, including the fact that just throwing the spell at it would definitely be the end of them, and that they had to practice with it very carefully.

Evan tried to avoid eye contact with Barty. He didn’t need an existential crisis in this time of serious business. Drama about people liking each other and kissing and regrets wasn’t exactly something that fit into their schedules these days.

And Barty? He couldn’t stop looking.

Chapter Text

Chapter 43: Fiendfyre

They took a whole week, hidden in one spot; the longest they’d ever stayed. But it was a great spot. Not a lot of trees, surrounded by stone caves. It was somewhere on a beach, they guessed it was very high up in Scotland because they could see all the tiny islands stretched out far away across the rugged sea.

It had everything they needed to practice a spell like that: Water, absence of anything flammable and reclusion from the outside world. Cover that with protective spells and they could probably go and live there if they wanted.

All of them tried the spell, carefully, safely, casting it from the water. They made sure to pack their stuff up and take it with them into the water every time, better wet than burned.

And honestly? Controlling fiendfyre wasn’t even that hard for Evan.

The book they stole told them everything they needed to know about getting familiar with the spell. The key? Anger.

All three of them were angry. War, the fact that they were presumably dead, sucky families, lovers unable to reach, lovers married.

Evan was by far the angriest.

Evan had spent years and years crushing on Barty Crouch Jr. He’d spent a full night convinced that that man thought the same about him, that maybe after the war they’d have a chance together. That maybe, when all of this bullshit would be over, they could have each other. Have everything Evan ever wanted, a stable family, a constant presence in his life.

It took him six days to fully master the spell. The first three days were filled with countless failed attempts, only angering him further and further. The fire was getting angrier, more unstable; but that was what they needed. Unstable meant unstoppable, and that’s exactly what it had to be.

The three days after that were downright dangerous. The amount of times they almost killed each other was off the charts, a huge part of the sand beach had turned into glass and more than one book had burned to shreds. Luckily, they didn’t die and actually, finally -kind of- got the spell right.

On the seventh day, they went for it. They were fully aware that destroying these horcruxes would mean the Dark Lord finding out someone was getting closer to him. Having a part of your soul destroyed had to be something one felt.

That’s why they had made a plan. Evan would do it, of course, he was the only one who actually could. Regulus would be out, searching for a new place to stay. A place really off the radar where no one could find them. Right now, they were only hiding from the order. After destroying the horcruxes they would be hiding from both sides. From everyone.

Barty would be there to keep an eye on everything, make sure to dunk Evan into the water in case it went wrong.

So, they executed the plan. Regulus left early in the morning with their stuff, Barty and Evan were left at the ruined, chilly beach.

They were not really talking. When Regulus was there it was fine, he was a safe middle ground, they could communicate through and around him without it being awkward. But alone? That was a different story.

There was a lot of silence. Even as they laid out the horcruxes on the beach, even as they entered the water, walking into the ice cold sea until the salty water came up to their rib cages. No words were spoken.

Until Barty finally worked up the courage to talk.

“Hey, Evan?” He asked, his voice was hesitant.

Evan was shaking, he ran cold easily. His teeth clattered in the water, he was pretty sure he was suffering hypothermia even though it was inly September. He turned to Barty with a nod.

Barty sighed, his eyes flickered over the horcruxes lined up a few feet away, then back to Evan. “Be careful.”

It may not seem like much, but Barty saying that? He meant that. Evan nodded again, a firm nod, a formal one. Then he took his wand into his right hand. He pointed it right at the horcruxes, took a deep breath.

He shouldn’t think about it too much. That would only work against him. Just collect all the deep seated anger, then fire.

Fire.

Fire.

“Pestis Incendium!”

An angry, flaming dragon shot out the tip of his wand. Fiendfyre searched for anything alive. It would go for the most alive things first. Evan and Barty. But they knew that. They knew they had to go underwater the second that fiery dragon turned to them.

It searched for a few seconds, then came soaring at them.

“Down!”

Barty was the one who yelled it, even though Evan was very prepared for it himself. Barty pulled him down, grabbed his wrist. Just to be sure, just for safety.

It felt like it was something else than just for safety when he didn’t let go underneath the water. When he didn’t close his eyes underwater, despite the salt prickling into them, just so they could look at each other.

They would just ignore that, it was part of the mission. They had to stay alert, eyes open and aware. But lets be honest, what was there to be aware of underwater? Fish? No.

The fire was roaring above them, flying from one place to another, going from the horcruxes back to chilling above the water and then back to the horcruxes. It did that three times. Once for every horcrux.

And after that? It just disappeared. There was nothing alive left in its range, so the fire put itself out. A loud bang sounded, even audible from under the water. It was their sign to go up and check; possibly the most dangerous part of the mission.

They weren’t sure how the horcruxes would react to being destroyed. They knew very little about horcruxes in general, actually. They just had to hope.

The two of them shared a look underwater before they both nodded and resurfaced. Both of them gasped for air, completely soaked and shaking with adrenaline. Then they ran out of the water, to look. To see if they actually did it. If they were actually destroyed.

Barty was out first, he dropped to his knees beside the smoldering horcruxes. They were destroyed, they had to be. The diary was barely more than ashes, the locket only a sad little mangled piece of gold and the ring had only left a small black stone.

“You did it.” Barty said, a breathy sentence filled with disbelief. He turned away from the still smoldering horcrux to face Evan, who was already staring back at him. His eyes were huge, pupils impossibly even bigger.

Evan let out a laugh, looking from the horcruxes to Barty, then letting his eyes rest to stare at him. The adrenaline still rushed through his veins, he was no longer cold; he was on fire.

Both of them acted on instinct. Evan made the first couple steps, then Barty did, hastily. They met halfway. They collapsed halfway. Like a spaceship collapsing into a planet, like a star collapsing in on itself. It was almost as if the constant sharing of looks had made them even more familiar with each other. Their lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly and satisfying.

Barty’s hands quickly found Evan’s hair, pulling on the locks at the nape of his neck, making Evan shudder at the touch. They were out of it, out of the world. Only for a few seconds, and then Evan pulled back. He put a step back, stumbled, almost. Like there was something forcing them apart. He stared at Barty, his messy blonde hair long enough to cover most of his eyes, but not enough to do so entirely.

Evan let out a laugh of disbelief himself, but not at the horcrux. At Barty.

“What was that?” He asked, very articulately.

Barty just stared.

“What does it mean, Barty?” Evan added, a bit more aggressive. The adrenaline of destroying the horcruxes finally reached his brain “Tell me it means something.”

“Evan…”

Evan scoffed. “Don’t say my name like that.” He said, walking a few feet more, backwards. “You can’t act like you don’t know what this is doing to me.”

Barty walked the few feet towards him, closing the gap again, toe to toe. “You never told me you liked me.” He said, quietly but not softly. It had edge, it was sharp somehow, like he was blaming Evan for it.

Evan walked further backwards, Barty followed. Then Evan’s back hit the rocks.

“Get away from me, Barty.” He said, immediately when Barty stood in front of him again. He felt tiny. Like a kid lost in a crowd, like a boy who trusted the wrong person. Breakable.

Barty shook his head. “You know what, Evan?” He asked, spitting out his name like venom. “You know. You know I’ve never been kind about feelings. Why are you putting the blame on me all of a sudden? You kissed me, not the other way around.”

Evan blinked at him, hurt. “Excuse me?” He asked. “I strongly remember you kissing me back. You kissed me like it was the last thing you’d ever do. Don’t rewrite it now. And how about that argument we had before we kissed? You don’t touch anyone else the way you touch me and you know it.”

“The way I touch you like what?” Barty asked. Then he put his hands on Evan’s hips, a tight grip. “Like this?”

Evan swallowed. “Yes, like that Barty.” He said, trying to stand his ground. “Let go.”

“What? Don’t like it all of a sudden?” Barty asked, sliding his hands up to hold Evan’s waist through his shirt, then he let out a shaky breath, then he let his hands slip underneath his shirt. “When I touch you like this?”

“Fuck you, Barty.” Evan gritted through his teeth. He was having a very hard time pretending that Barty’s hands touching his bare skin wasn’t altering his entire brain chemistry.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Barty asked, tilting his head with an evil smile on his lips. Not playful, evil. “How long have you liked me?”

Evan huffed out a laugh. “That’s none of your business.”

“So, a couple months then? Years, maybe?” Barty suggested.

Evan pushed him off, roughly. Barty fell down to the scorched sand, staining his white shirt -for as far as it still was white- and making him grunt. The blonde looked down at him.

“You’re pathetic, Barty. You don’t take advantage of your friends like that.” Evan spat.

He was gone before Barty could react. It would be a long while before they spoke again.

Because somewhere along the edge of the woods, a sound, a curse and an apparition.

And Evan was gone without a trace.

Chapter Text

Chapter 44: Unexpected Enemies

Regulus arrived back at the beach about an hour after Evan left.

The sun had dipped lower, casting long amber streaks across the shoreline. The tide was coming in soft and lazy, brushing over their old footprints. For a moment, Regulus felt almost at peace-- the kind that comes after walking for miles with nothing but your own thoughts for company.

He had found a new campsite about a mile east, up on a rocky bluff surrounded by thick pine. Higher ground. Easier to defend. He knew Evan and Barty would complain about the slope, but safety trumped comfort.

He walked down the steps to the beach, only seeing one outline of a person sitting against the cliff.

“Evan?” He asked, calling out to the person.

The person turned around, quickly getting up. “Did you see him?”

It wasn’t Evan, it was Barty.

Regulus frowned. “What?”

Barty let out a sigh. “Never mind.” He said, moving his right foot through the sand, tracing a line. “Found a spot?”

Regulus nodded, slowly. He had a gut feeling something was wrong. Or a people reading feeling something was wrong, because Barty wasn’t acting like his usual self. He seemed out of it and worried. Did the spell backfire?

“Did you two destroy them?” Regulus asked, looking around the beach. Their bottomless bag was the only thing disrupting the gold flow of sand in front of them.

Barty nodded, quickly, almost as if he had forgotten he did destroy them. He pulled the remaining pieces of horcruxes out of his pocket and revealed them. A half molten piece of gold, the bigger pieces of ashes from the diary and the black stone with the Deathly Hallows sign from the ring.

Regulus let out a laugh of disbelief, “You actually did?” He asked, but then his mind turned to suspicion. “Then why are you upset?”

The brunette shook his head, looking down. He waited for a few seconds, debating whether he was actually going to say it or if he’d rather let Regulus figure it out for himself.

Then he spoke:

“I don’t know where Evan is.”

Regulus’ head snapped up from the horcruxes to look at Barty. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“He left-- an hour ago.”

“Why would he leave, what happened?”

Barty let out a huff of air, “I don’t know, he needed air.”

“We’re outside on a beach Barty, he didn’t need air.” Regulus countered, his eyes narrowed after. “What did you say to him?”

“I didn’t say anything!” Barty defended. Too quick, too loud.

Regulus’ eyes narrowed slightly further. He took a step closer to Barty. “You definitely said something.”

“We just had a disagreement. Nothing big, but he left.“ Barty said, but concern flickered through his eyes. “I didn’t. I didn’t make him leave, Regulus. I- I didn’t want him to leave.”

“Then why wouldn’t you go after him?” Regulus asked, panic now rising, concern starting to form a shallow pit in his stomach. “You know we have to be extra careful now, you shouldn't have let him run off.”

There was a silence. Thick and damning.

Barty looked away.

Regulus spun on his feet, watching the footprints on the sand. He knew which were Evan’s, his shoe print still clearly visible far away from the water. They lead around the cliff, far away around it. He began following them, walking fast, collected.

Then the prints stopped. There was a spot on the sand where he had seemingly spun a circle, then disappeared.

“Evan!” Regulus shouted, his voice echoing against the cliff surrounding the beach.

No answer.

Barty followed. “I’ve already looked!” he said. “I walked both directions twice, he’s not here!”

“You knew this and waited for me to get back before doing something?” Regulus barked, turning on him.

“I thought maybe he’d come back,” Barty muttered, guilt edging into his voice now. “He always comes back.”

Regulus ignored him. His eyes scanned the sand again. Then, something -just past a pile of driftwood- caught the light.

He jogged over, crouching down to pick it up.

A wand. A 8 ½ inch Rowan wand. Smooth design, slightly bendable.

Evan’s wand.

Regulus swallowed, he turned to Barty. “It’s his.”

Barty approached, and his face went pale when he saw it.

Regulus stood slowly, his hands curling into fists. “He wouldn’t have dropped this,” he said.

A beat of silence.

“Do you smell that?” Barty asked suddenly. “Like... burnt ozone.”

Regulus stiffened. “Magic.”

They both turned, following the faint smell until they came across a patch of blackened grass near the edge of the sand and the start of the rocks. A place where the ground had been scorched in a precise, almost circular pattern.

“Apparition mark,” Regulus said grimly.

“But not his,” Barty muttered, crouching to run a hand over it. “No... this isn’t where he left. This is where someone arrived.”

They both went quiet.

Regulus straightened. “He didn’t leave. He was taken.”

---

Everything was dark.

Evan had no sense of time, location, presence, nothing.

The only thing he noted was the feeling of his arms, restrained in front of him. At first he thought it was magic, that they were bound together by a spell. But then moved them, and the loud sound of iron clacking together filled the room he was in. He was actually chained, like a prisoner. He could move his hands separately, but not very far.

The room started to get less dark as his eyes adjusted to the light. He was sitting on a damp floor, his back against an equally damp, ice cold wall. It was all stone, no window. A singular door in the distance, about five feet away, made up of iron bars.

Then he noticed. How much his head was hurting. He hissed, loudly. Once again echoing the room he had now established as a holding cell in either a dungeon or a cave.

And then it came back to him.

How three men jumped him. Quietly, quickly, planned. They had taken him at his weakest. Away from the group, after he let his guard down. The horcruxes had just been destroyed, he had just fought with Barty. He thought he was allowed to breathe. For one fucking minute.

One came from above, the other two from the sides. They silenced him first, after he almost yelled out Barty’s name. Then they punched him in the face. Once, twice. Evan had tried to grab his wand, to fight back. They had thrown it away. Another punch, then… then he slipped out of it.

Evan slowly lifted his hands to his face, feeling for blood. He couldn’t see very well what the liquid dripping down his nose was in the dark but he could only assume that it was indeed blood. Another sharp sting shot through his head, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he leaned his head back against the wall.

Then footsteps. Suddenly, Evan was alert and ready to throw hands at whoever would step through that door. He stood up, too quickly. He could feel his heartbeat in his head.

Someone stood behind the iron bars of the door, looking at Evan with an evil smirk on their face.

“Oh good, you’re up.” The voice was deep. It was a man, Evan couldn’t see who. He didn’t recognize the voice.

A key turned, the door opened with a loud creaking sound that filled up the entire cobblestone cell.

Evan still stood in place, unsure what to do. His hands were chained. He could kick?

Then the man spoke again. “I almost thought that maybe they had been too rough on you.”

“What do you want from me?” Evan asked. His voice was rough, he suspected he had been out for a long time.

The man chuckled, lowly. “Eager, that’s what I’m looking for.” He said, stepping closer to Evan.

Evan moved quickly, reaching out to hit the man in whatever way he would be able to. But, the chain didn’t let him. They were too short, and he was pulled back by them almost immediately, a soft sound leaving his throat.

“Ouch, that must’ve hurt. For you and your ego.”

Evan let out a low sound. Somewhere between a growl and a curse.

The man sighed, tilting his head. He took one more step closer, finally close enough for Evan to see his face. But… he didn’t know the man. This wasn’t a death eater, or a member of the Order.

“Oh, you don’t know me.” The man said, noticing the way Evan was looking at him. “I’m Gideon Thorne.”

Thorne stuck out his hand for a formal introduction, then laughed. “Oh right, you’re chained.”

Evan was now more confused than moments before. He really thought this had been the Dark Lord’s doing. That he had figured out their plans and was finally coming for them.

But Thorne. He didn’t know the man but he did know the name. He remembered reading it somewhere.

But where?

Thorne moved to sit across from him, all sharp smiles and unhurried ease, like he had all the time in the world. “You’ve been a difficult one to find, Rosier. Slippery little snake. But not as clever as you think.”

Evan’s head was pounding, his wrists aching in their restraints. But the name -Thorne- kept echoing louder than the pain.

He knew it. He knew it. Not from the streets, not from the whispers of Death Eaters or the Order.

The Prophet.

And then it clicked. That article, months ago; something about promotions in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Evan had skimmed it, half-mocking, half-bored. But one quote had stood out, because it had sounded like something Barty would’ve scoffed at and Regulus would’ve burned:

“I don’t need public approval. I need results.”

He stared at the man now, taking in the clean boots, the perfect robes, the merciless smirk behind the civility. The kind of man who operated in the shadows of legality. Who didn’t need a trial to decide guilt.

His stomach turned.

“I know you.” Evan said slowly. “You’re a ministry official.”

Thorne smiled wider, mockingly proud. “Good, that saves us some time then.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 45: Threats, Rebels, Traitors

“You know, Rosier, ever since I was a little boy-”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Evan interrupted, his face in disbelief because was this man actually going to tell him a story about his childhood. “What do you want from me?”

Thorne sighed, then rolled his eyes, annoyed. “You’re a really bad hostage, you know? Very rude.”

“So I’m a hostage?” Evan asked, still not making sense of any of it. “For what? Who are you trying to lure?”

“You ask so many questions.” Thorne groaned, his head rolled to the side as if he was bored by it. “We don’t need anything other than your knowledge.”

“What knowledge? Who sent you?”

“Okay, shut up.” Thorne said, finally pulling his wand out of his pocket, pointing it at Evan. “I’m not telling you anything, you’re the one who’s supposed to talk.”

Evan scoffed, a glint of dark amusement flickered beneath his eyes. “I’ll never talk.”

“You don’t even know what I want to ask.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Evan said, leaning back against the wall he was chained to. “You hit me, took me, chained me and then belittled me. I’m not telling you anything.”

Thorne cocked his head with an amused smile. “I take it back, you are a fun hostage.”

He raised the wand in his hand up to Evan’s chest. They were inches apart, but still too far for Evan to hit him if he tried.

The blonde could now see more of the man’s features. Dark hair, tall, squared shoulders, movements too controlled to be anything but trained. A glint of his hair slicked back, catching what little light there was. His face was harder to make out, but his eyes… grey, maybe. Cold. Watching. Calculating. He didn’t move like a Death Eater. He moved like someone who thought of pain as paperwork.

“Don’t forget I have the upperhand.” Thorne said, letting the focus be drawn to the wand in his hand, threateningly pointed at Evan. “Just answer whatever I ask you. Let’s not make a mess.”

Evan looked down at the wand, then back up at Thorne through his lashes. “Sure, what do you want?”

“I want to know why you’re still alive.” Thorne said, finally asking something.

Evan shrugged. “Just didn’t die, I guess.”

“But Moody saw you die, he said he killed you.” Throne tilted his head. “Said you took his eye, but killed you in the end. Does he know you’re not actually dead?”

“Moody must be very stupid then, because I’ve never even fought him.”

Thorne changed his stance, straightening up. “Are you still a Death Eater?”

Evan shrugged. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I know you’re not.” Thorne said, quickly. “You, Crouch and Black. You’re up to something. What is it?”

“Are they alive?” Evan acted, his face filled with fake confusion. “Didn’t know that.”

Thorne chuckled. “You’re protecting them.” He noted, he twirled his wand in between his fingers. “You and your little trio, playing war behind everyone’s backs. Acting like you’re the ones who’ll win this. Do you know what that makes you? Threats. Rebels. Traitors. And the Ministry will see you burn if you don’t tell me what you’re planning.”

“We’re fighting for the right side.” Evan countered, letting it slip. Thorne clearly knew more already.

“The right side? There’s no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, Rosier. What’s your endgame? What’s your plan?”

Evan kept quiet. This was where he had to stop. He couldn’t tell him what they had been up to.

Thorne’s eyes narrowed. “You think silence will save you? That stubbornness is a luxury you can’t afford.”

He raised his wand.

Thorne’s wand flicked sharply. The air shimmered, and suddenly, Evan felt a searing heat crawl beneath his skin—as if invisible insects were skittering just below the surface. His muscles tensed involuntarily, every nerve screaming.

“Skin-crawling curse,” Thorne said, voice low and cold. “Unpleasant, isn’t it?”

Evan clenched his teeth, trying to focus beyond the maddening sensation. “You’re wasting your time.”

Without warning, a cold, heavy weight wrapped around his legs. The Shadow Chains tightened, chilling his blood, binding him in place. His feet refused to move no matter how hard he willed it.

“Leg-Lock curse,” Thorne mocked. “Trapping you like a rat in a cage. Tell me, how does it feel to be powerless?”

Evan struggled against the invisible bonds, breath coming faster. “I’ll never talk.”

A cruel smile flickered on Thorne’s lips. He pointed his wand at Evan’s throat. A sudden tightening seized Evan’s tongue, as if it was fused to the roof of his mouth.

“Tongue-tied, too,” Thorne said smoothly. “No more lies, no more refusals. The next time you try, the Cruciatus will remind you just how serious I am.”

Evan’s eyes burned with defiance, but the threat of the Cruciatus lingered, like a shadow at the edge of his mind.

---

“What the fuck are we going to do, Reg.” Barty suddenly said as he watched Regulus poke a stick of wood into the campfire.

It had been three days already. Anything could’ve happened to Evan. He could already be… gone.

Regulus turned to look at him, slowly. “I don’t know, okay?” He said, throwing the stick into the fire, then watching it burn. “This isn’t a situation I’ve prepared for.”

Barty let out a shaky breath, then raised his hands to rub over his face. “What if he’s-”

“Don’t you dare.” Regulus interrupted. He knew exactly what Barty was going to say. “He’s not, okay? If whoever took him wanted him dead they would’ve done it right there on that beach.”

“Maybe they didn’t want us to notice right away.” Barty countered, spiraling. “Maybe they took him just to kill him.”

Regulus shook his head, quickly. “Just don’t say that. Don’t think that.”

They both hadn’t slept for days. Barely, at least. The horcrux hunt had been put on hold, their minds were completely occupied with finding Evan.

But every time they tried to make a plan, one of them would panic and they would fight and then Barty would smoke and Regulus would lay on his airbed, just staring at Evan’s empty one.

“We should go undercover again.” Barty said. His hands trembled as he reached for their bottomless bag, immediately ready to go. “Right now, find out where they’re keeping him.”

Regulus shook his head, slowly reaching out to put his hand on Barty’s shoulder. “That’s too risky, Barty. We won’t find him like that.” He said, taking the bag from him. “We don’t even know if it was them.”

“Well who else could’ve taken him? The order?”

Regulus’ head perked up.

“What? Do you think-”

“I think they might’ve?” Regulus replied, sort of excited with this new lead. “I could ask James.”

Regulus didn’t like how much hope lit in his chest when he said James’ name. He ignored it. This wasn’t about that- this was about Evan.

Barty’s eyes narrowed. “That’s just an excuse to see him, isn’t it?” He asked. “You don’t actually think they took him.”

“It’s not, Barty, I promise.” Regulus said, looking Barty in the eyes. “I’ll prove it. Come with me, all we have to do is ask. He would tell me.”

“I don’t know Reg, he’s still the-”

“Don’t say enemy right now.” Regulus interrupter with a warning look. “We’re fighting for the same cause, he just doesn’t know.”

Barty sighed. “Shit, alright then, let’s talk to him.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 46: What is Happening

Barty and Regulus arrived at the apartment late at night. They went immediately after the conversation by the campfire; no time to spare, not when it came to Evan’s life.

Regulus knew James would be at Sirius and Remus’ apartment again. He knew where James was, all day at any given time. Not because he was stalking him, or because he knew all their safe houses; but because he knew James. Inside and out.

He just didn’t know if James would be alone in the apartment. Which, if someone else was there, that would really put them at a disadvantage. So, they did the only sensible thing. They took the invisibility cloak. Regulus had meant to give it back to James sooner or later anyways, might as well do it face to face.

Barty kept making disapproving sounds as they made their way to the apartment. He was clearly not on board with the plan, but the helpless and desperate feeling sitting at the campfire gave him was even worse.

Regulus knocked on the door after a final check on the invisibility cloak, making sure it was really covering all of them.

He took a deep breath.

Then the door opened. It was James himself, holding his wand out in front of him, looking at him without knowing he was looking at him.

“Who is it?” He asked, his voice stern and threatening.

Regulus slipped the cloak off himself, leaving it to dangle over Barty. James was visibly startled by the reveal. Not only because Regulus appeared out of thin air but also because he was sure that cloak was at Grimmauld place, gathering dust wherever he had lost it.

“What the fuck Reg, what are you doing here? Was that my cloak” James asked after recollecting himself- as far as he could.

Regulus shook his head, “No time for that, are you alone?”

James shook his head as well, opening the door slightly to reveal a small crib in the corner of the room.

“You didn’t come to kill him, right?”

Regulus looked up at James through his lashes. “I told you, I’m not involved with that.” He said, then he shoved past him to get into the apartment. James followed his movement with a close eye, calculating Regulus’ movements- just making sure.

“We need to ask you something.”

James frowned. “We?”

“What’s up, Potter?” Barty finally spoke as he slipped the cloak off him as well.

James’ head whipped around fast enough to pull that muscle that runs from the neck to the skull.

“Crouch?” James asked, confused, even though he knew exactly who was standing in front of him.

Barty grinned, satisfied with the reaction to his big reveal. He brushed past James in the doorway as well, dropping the invisibility cloak in his arms in the process.

His eyes snapped to the crib in the corner of the room, then back to James.

James panicked when he noticed. He immediately formed a human shield, making sure neither of them could take another look at his son.

“Don’t you dare.” He warned, mostly looking at Barty but Regulus could feel he didn’t trust him either.

“We’re not with him!” Regulus said, louder, annoyed- not because James was protecting his son but because he knew it was fair for him to choose not to trust him. It hurt, deeply, into his bones.

James untensed just the teeniest bit. His hand unclenched around his wand, and his shoulders dropped.

He sighed, then ran his free hand over his face. “Alright, what in Godric’s name is happening here.” He asked. He looked tired- exhausted.

“We don’t know where Evan is.” Regulus told, keeping a safe distance from James. “We think he was taken.”

“We think you took him.” Barty added, quickly.

James’ eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Barty, we don’t think that.” Regulus rectified, hitting his friend’s shoulder before turning back to James. “Just, we thought maybe you’d heard something.”

“Or taken him.”

“Barty!”

James shook his head in confusion. “But why would I know anything? What would we do with him?”

“Question him, figure out what we’ve been up to.” Barty filled in. He took a step closer. “Doesn’t even have to be you, or the Order, maybe it was Moody- he did take his eye.”

James scoffed, standing guard even as Barty was getting closer to him. He knew this game- the trying to stand tall to gain power over the situation. But he was not a match for that, he was always taller, stronger; mentally, at least.

“Look, I’m sorry that he’s gone but the Order had nothing to do with it.” James promised, watching Barty, carefully. “It would’ve been pretty big news for them to find Evan Rosier alive and breathing- I’d know if they did figure it out.”

Barty’s shoulder slumped, his threatening demeanor turned into something sad. He closed his eyes, slowly, then took a step back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Hey! There’s a child in the room!” James warned, a stern finger pointed out in front of him.

Regulus put his hand on Barty’s shoulder, making him turn to look. “We’ll find him, okay?” He said, softer than before, a real promise.

Barty didn’t say anything. He just recollected himself, then walked back towards the door.

“I’ll wait outside.”

Regulus didn’t follow Barty. Even though he knew he should’ve.

Instead, he stood there, a couple feet away from James who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. The invisibility cloak laid by his side.

James let out a weird laugh when he realized. “You took the cloak months ago, didn’t you?” He asked, somewhere between amused and frightened. “It’s been missing for six months- you were in our safe house.”

Regulus shrugged. Guilty, but definitely not regretting it. He had his arms wrapped around himself, like he was physically holding himself together- or holding himself back.

The weight of the vist, the implications and desperation, it hung thick between them.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” James said, tired. “If anyone sees you-”

“No one saw us.” Regulus cut in. “You know that.”

James huffed. “That’s not the point.”

“No, I suppose not.” Regulus stepped closer. Not by a lot, just enough to feel the ari shift. “You’re angry.”

“I’m tired.” James corrected, his eyes glanced back to the crib. “And scared, constantly.”

“Me too.” Regulus breathed, barely above a whisper. He let his eyes wander the same way as James, barely catching eye of the baby sleeping, then flickered back to James’ eyes. “It never stops.”

James looked at him fully now. The worries and judgement were erased from his face. His jaw clenched, like he was holding something back. Words, memories, everything.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” He said. This time, it wasn’t an accusation. It sounded like regret.

Regulus didn’t say anything.

James cursed under his breath, stepped forwards, and gripped Regulus by the collar. More out of frustration than anything else. Regulus didn’t even flinch.

Their mouths collided. It wasn’t graceful, or sweet, or nice. Pure passion that only came with forced secrets and the pressure of life. One sharp kiss, teeth almost clashing, breath hot and fast, and then-

Then James broke it. He pulled away and stepped back like Regulus was hot lava against him. Like the floor had burned him.

“That didn’t happen.” He said, quickly. Too quickly.

Regulus swallowed hard. He could deny it all he wanted but his cheeks were tinted a dark shade of crimson, and his pulse was racing like crazy.

“Of course not.” He replied.

Neither of them moved.

“I need to go.” Regulus added quietly, smoothing down his shirt like it would erase the past thirty seconds. “Goodnight, James.”

James watched him leave, no more words were spoken.

---

Thorne had come and gone about four times in the past few days. Evan had figured out he’d been knocked out for about a day and a half, making this the third day he was there.

Aside from the spells he’d performed that first time, Thorne didn’t seem to take his own cruciatus curse threat very seriously. He kept saying he would do it, but he never did. Almost as if he were scared to do it.

There wasn’t much more Evan had found out. Neither had Thorne, because Evan refused to talk about anything related to their mission. And also about anything related to Regulus and Barty. For some reason, Thorne was very interested in Barty in particular. Asking questions such as why and how they ‘recruited’ him.

Evan was starting to lose his mind.

Not because of the spells or the crappy food he was getting, he could handle that. But because he didn’t know where Regulus and Barty were and this scared the shit out of him. He could only hope they weren’t taken, that only he had been on the list.

He didn’t expect them to come find him. He could understand if they chose to keep looking for the horcruxes and just find him after they were done. Still, a part of him also hoped Barty was feeling very, very bad for the things he’d said and done. That Barty was having a terrible time, hating himself for the fact Evan was gone.

The fifth time Thorne came back, he had taken someone with him. Another hostage, Evan thought at first. But it wasn’t.

“Rosier, this is my friend Edric Nott.” Thorne introduced him as if Evan would care. “I brought him to intimidate you.”

The man was tall. Taller than Evan, brouder than him as well. He had a grown out buzzcut, a beard that could only exist because he forgot to shave for a day; just stubble. He was conventionally attractive, but something about him was off- eerily off.

Evan huffed out a laugh. It was rough, he wasn’t really using his voice while he was alone in the cell. “What? Too weak to handle me on your own?”

“See, this is what I was talking about.” Thorne said, turning to his ‘friend’ Nott. “He doesn’t understand that we can kill him so easily, he thinks it’s a joke.”

Nott nodded, slowly. “I see.” He said, his voice was surprisingly deep. “You can leave it to me.”

Thorne bit his lip. “I mean, we could do it together.”

“Leave, Gideon.” Nott said, sharply. “You know I work alone.”

“You’re no fun.”

Evan just sat there, still chained, slumping down against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest. He watched them talk, hoping to get any information out of it at all.

Thorne walked off after he gave them one last look, staring Evan dead in the eyes with a nasty evil smirk. ‘Have fun’, he mouthed. Evan gave him a look that could kill.

“So, what are you going to ask me?” Evan asked once Thorne was gone.

Nott shrugged, taking his wand out of his pocket and immediately pointing it at Evan.

“You know why I’m here.” He said, his face was expressionless- that was the eerie thing. There was not a single emotion on his face. “I’m not going to ask again, I’ll just torture it out of you.”

“Right.” Evan said, tiredly. “Skin-crawling curse? Foot-locking curse? You think that’ll work? I’ve already-”

Evan was cut off, quickly.

“Crucio.”

The world shattered.

It wasn’t fire, fire would’ve been kinder. It was every nerve in his body being twisted, ripped apart, lit up like wires crackling beneath his skin. His spine arched without permission. His teeth slammed shut so hard he tasted blood. He couldn’t scream, not properly, just a strangled, animal noise torn from his throat.

His vision blackened at the edges. His limbs jerked like they didn’t belong to him. Every second stretched, slow and eternal, until he didn’t know if a minute had passed or a lifetime.

And Nott… just watched.

Expressionless. Wand steady. Like Evan was nothing more than parchment under a microscope.

When the curse finally lifted, Evan collapsed forward, choking on air, trembling from head to toe.

He didn’t beg. He didn’t speak. He just shook.

And Nott -calm as ever- tilted his head, almost curious.

“Now,” he said softly, “shall we begin?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 47: Regret

Day four, Evan’s body was still recovering from the cruciatus curse.

Nott hadn’t asked him any more questions after, he’d only sat and watched him. Watched his muscles contract and relaxed every few minutes; watched as he vomited- cleaned it up with a single flick of his wand only to go back to watching him suffer.

He left late at night. Or Evan assumed he did, there was no indicator it was late or night in the dark cell. Only the fact that he was even more tired than most of the day.

Evan could only imagine what he had to look like. He was sweaty, the cell was too hot at day and too cold at night, his hair stuck to his forehead- dirty and damp. The skin on his face must’ve been as pale as the skin on his arms. His lips were cracked from biting on them until they bled.

He didn’t care what he looked like as much as he cared about the way he felt. He felt so weak. Like even if they were to untangle him, he wouldn’t be able to fight them.

Then it became day five

They started asking questions again. Didn’t use the cruciatus curse, but the fear they would alone was almost enough for Evan to speak up. But he wouldn’t- he couldn't. Never.

“What did Dumbledore offer you?” Thorne asked. They came in together this time, going against Nott’s strict rule of working alone.

This was the third time they asked something about Dumbledore.

“I told you.” Evan breathed out, looking up at the man from where he was seated against the wall. “I never spoke to Dumbledore.”

Thorne groaned. “Stop lying!”

Evan rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. He winced when his wet hair touched the cold bricks.

He remembered what it felt like. He remembered the firelight on his skin, the quiet weight of a book in his lap. Still war, but there’d been peace, too. Regulus and Barty, and peace. It was warm, the fire, the feeling, the memory. That was only a week ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

“Want me to do it?” Nott asked, looking at Thorne. Evan knew exactly what it was, he felt his heartbeat raise.

Nott’s gaze wasn’t cruel, but clinical- as if Evan were a creature in a jar, not a person.

Thorne shook his head. “Not yet.” He said, then walked closer to Evan. He crouched down. He had never been this close, but he could clearly see Evan wasn’t in any state to attack him.

Evan watched him closely, making sure to stay totally still. Only the rise and fall of his chest with every breath showed he was still alive.

“You smell.” Evan then whispered.

Thorne let out a disturbing laugh for a few seconds, then his face was taken over by forced anger. He reached out and grabbed a full hand of Evan’s hair, forcing him to properly look up at him.

“Look, Rosier, I don’t know what your game is but you will die in this cell if you don’t start answering us soon.” He spat, pulling his hair tightly. “What have you and your little friends been up to this past year and why?”

He shoved Evan’s head back against the wall. Not roughly, just to let go of his hair, but everything hurt for him. He let out a hiss, looking at Thorne with venom in his eyes.

“We’ve been up to nothing.”

Thorne bit his lip, thinking, watching Evan. Then he turned to Nott.

“You can do it now.”

Nott straightened up, pointing his wand at Evan once again. Steady, as if he’d been doing this his whole life.

Evan knew what was coming.

And still, it hit him like a train.

“Crucio.”

His nerves caught fire. It wasn’t pain- it was obliteration. It was a thousand knives being driven under his fingernails, glass crushed into his gums, acid poured into his spine. His back arched so violently his shoulders cracked. His jaw snapped open in a scream; loud, broken, involuntarily.

It felt like the curse peeled him open from the inside out. Every inch of his skin screamed. His blood burned as if it were being boiled inside his veins. His vision whited out, flickered, warped.

He thought he’d die. He wanted to die.

He’d been through it before but this time, it was worse. His body recognized it- welcomed the pain like an old enemy who knew exactly how to split itself along familiar fault lines.

His wrists bled where they twisted against the restraints. His throat went hoarse mid-scream.

And still, it went on.

When it stopped, the absence of pain felt wrong, like a limb had been amputated.

Evan collapsed. He didn’t know which part of his body gave out, only that he fell over to the floor, completely done- his body, his mind, everything was done.

From a distance that seemed to be getting further and further away, someone laughed.

And then everything went dark.

---

Not much was said as Regulus and Barty passed a bottle of firewhiskey between the two of them. They didn’t have much to talk about when it was just the two of them.

They both missed Evan. In different ways.

Regulus missed Evan because he was his best friend. Evan knew how to deal with feelings in a way that Regulus just couldn’t quite get his hands on. In a way that made him understand his own feelings, talk about them, really feel them. Without Evan, Regulus felt blank. As if he wasn’t allowed to feel anything when Evan wasn’t there to talk him through it.

Barty missed Evan because he finally knew what he was missing. He missed Evan with a kind of grief that he’d never experienced before. He longed for Evan, he yearned for him. He needed him in every way shape and form possible. He hated that those feelings confused him so much.

The liquor didn’t help those feelings, but it eventually got them to talk.

They were sat by the fireplace, eventually having settled at the spot Regulus had picked out for them. The fire was warm but they were both shivering, the wind blowing against their backs was winning the fight.

“I hate myself.” Barty said, breaking the silence. He was hugging his knees against his chest, leaning his chin on them as he stared into the fire. His eyes were getting dry, he didn’t care.

Regulus sighed. He had given up on sitting altogether and was now lying on the dirt. His knees up, his face turned towards Barty. “Yeah, me too.”

Barty rolled his eyes, then threw the liquor bottle at him. It was empty already.

Regulus turned over on his stomach, propping himself up on his arms. “It’s not your fault, Barty.” He ensured. “You’re not his babysitter. He’s a grown man. He just got unlucky.”

The brunette bit his lip slightly. “I feel like that’s all we’ve been lately.”

“Yeah.” Regulus said, softly. He looked away from Barty, started to trace his finger over the dirt. “Me too.”

Barty groaned, letting himself fall down to the dirt next to Regulus. “Why did this have to happen?”

“Because we’re cursed in a very, very dark way?”

Barty raised eyebrows at Regulus. “And how did that happen?”

Regulus shrugged. “Probably somewhere around the time we got these marks.”

He pointed at his arm, holding it up, but quickly dropped it again.

Then it was quiet for a few seconds again, then they looked at each other. Regulus leaned a bit closer to Barty, almost hovering over him. Alcohol made his boundaries looser, because if you came this close to sober Regulus he would curse you.

“What’s the deal between you two?” Regulus asked.

Barty shoved his arms underneath him, quickly leaning away a bit, presenting himself more tough. He frowned. “What?”

“You and Evan, what is it?”

Barty scoffed, obviously lying. “There is no me and Evan.”

“You’re obviously into him, Crouch, why is that so hard for you to understand?”

Regulus was scanning his face. Barty hated how it felt to really be looked at. Not just a glimpse, but really be studied for emotion. He turned away, his face towards the dark forest. Regulus was so close he could hear him breathing in his ear.

Then Barty looked back, more collected, more serious.

“We kissed.”

Regulus shook his head, almost as if he was confused as to why he was being told this. “I know”

“You do?” Barty asked, immediately, his eyes a bit wider. “Did he tell you?”

“No, Barty, I’m just not dull.” Regulus said, his tone harsher than during the conversation before.

Barty laughed. He let out the most manic, dramatic laugh. It didn’t reach his eyes, obviously, just a sound from his throat. “So, everyone knew before me then?” He asked, “Did you know that Evan had feelings for me as well?”

“I assumed, yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m not your owl, that’s something the two of you have to figure out together.”

“But if I knew I could’ve stopped this! Then he would still be here!”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed. “What did you say to him?”

Barty’s face went pale.

“Barty.” Regulus pushed, getting closer again. “What did you say to him?”

“I told him he should know I’m not particularly nice about feelings.” Barty said, then he turned his head towards the fire. “Then I- uh,”

“Spit it out Crouch.”

“I think I kind of assaulted him.” Barty finally admitted.

Regulus’ eyes widened. “What? Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know, okay? I’ve never had these kinds of feelings before.” Barty groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just- I feel like I’m not allowed to feel these things and I react it out on the one I’m feeling it for.”

Regulus laid back down on his back, satisfied he had gotten something out of Barty but not very satisfied by the answer. He didn’t answer right away.

The fire crackled. Wind howled through the trees in the distance

Barty still had his face buried in his hands, shoulders hunched like he wanted to disappear into the dirt.

Regulus sat up slowly, watching him, the way someone might watch a wounded animal; careful, cautious, unsure if it would lash out or collapse.

“You’re such a mess,” he murmured eventually. Not cruel. Not unkind. Just… true.

Barty let out a dry laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Another pause. Then:

“I miss him,” Barty said, voice barely there. “I miss him so much, I’m so worried about what could’ve happened to him. I think I might be losing my mind.”

Regulus looked down at his hands. They were trembling. He didn’t remember when that had started.

“I miss him too.”

They didn’t say anything after that for a long time.

The fire burned low. The bottle lay forgotten in the grass. And the silence wrapped around them like fog--thick and pressing and heavy with everything unspoken.

Then softly, like it hurt, Barty said, “Can we just… pretend for a minute?”

Regulus blinked at him. “Pretend what?”

“You’re Evan,” Barty said. “And I’m someone worth wanting.”

Regulus flinched. “That’s hurtful and weird, Barty.”

“I know,” Barty said. “But I don’t care. I’m so tired of feeling like this.”

Regulus stared at him for a moment longer. Then, very slowly, he leaned his head onto Barty’s shoulder.

“This is shitty,” Regulus whispered.

Barty gave a bitter smile. “Yeah. This whole situation is shitty.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 48: Back in Black

It had been three days since they spoke to James, two since they got drunk and spilled their secrets.

One day since they started trailing Evan’s magic back to him.

Seven days since he was taken.

At the beach, there were no traces of magic. Especially with Evan’s wand having gotten left behind, tracking his spells were impossible.

But spells weren’t all magic was. Magic was an aura. A fingerprint. A breath that lingered in the air long after someone had exhaled it. And Barty knew what Evan’s magic felt like. He could recognize it blind. He could dream in it.

But recognition wasn’t enough, they needed direction. They needed to know where to look. They wandered, days stretched. Forest after forest. Until they ran into a group of Death Eaters on patrol.

At first, they froze- both thinking the same thing: Had they been found? But the Death Eaters weren’t looking for them. Not specifically. They were prowling for recruits, for strays, for anyone to drag back into the fold.

There it was. A chance, a crack in the wall.

The two men didn’t even have to speak, one look was enough. They knew what to do. They had been waiting for this.

They were traveling themselves, trying to get a sense of Evan wherever they could, everything packed away in their bottomless bag. Everything as well as their old Death Eater robes and masks.

They put them on in silence, only the soft stumping of the patrolling Death Eaters nearby disrupting the peace of the forest. It excited them in some way. Probably because it was a possible lead, their only possible lead in a week.

It felt strange to once again wear the masks that had been their seconds skins for months- years, for Regulus. It was like they were welcoming an old enemy back into their lives. Like slipping into ghosts.

They mixed in seamlessly. The attires hadn’t changed since they left, still the same black robes and silvery masks as it was. They just followed, like they were never not there, like the group had always existed of twelve people instead of ten.

Regulus was quick to act. He knew they couldn’t just walk among them and hope to overhear. They needed to ask questions. And if they wanted to do that without getting caught, they had to belong.

“Evening.” Regulus said, voice altered just enough to sound like it didn’t belong to him. Deeper, darker.

One of the Death Eaters in front of them turned, not stopping but slowing his walk.

“Where’d you two come from?” He asked, immediately suspicious.

Okay, so they weren’t entirely oblivious.

“Got redirected near the Channel,” Barty lied smoothly. “Something about moving assets west. Word from… Malfoy”

This was tricky, because they didn’t know which Death Eaters were patrolling. The Dark Lord’s army had gotten big enough to take the changes though. And besides, Malfoy wouldn’t be patrolling. That’s for newbies and weaklings.

Regulus knew the Death Eater who spoke to them. Not by name- Evan would’ve known his name.

“Malfoy doesn’t give out orders lightly.” The Death Eater spoke, but he didn’t turn his head just yet. “Who am I talking to?”

Barty’s breath hitched. Not noticeably, just enough to make Regulus pinch his side.

“We haven’t met, just joined a few weeks ago.” Regulus quickly said.

Barty stuck out his hand. “Name’s Tomkins.”

The Death Eater just nodded at him, still marching, not shaking his hand.

“I’m Marius Trevors.” Regulus said, not bothering to try the handshake.

“Well good to have you on our side,” The Death Eater said, turning his gaze back in front of him.

Regulus and Barty shared a look. Neither of them could see one another’s face but they knew exactly what looks were on there; relief.

They walked in silence for a bit, then the Death Eater next to the one who spoke to them talked.

“How’s recruiting ministry folks going?”

The question came casually, tossed like it was about the weather. But something about it snagged Barty’s attention.

Regulus didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure he was meant to. Maybe it wasn’t even directed at them. But his fingers twitched by his side. He didn’t like this line of conversation.

Another voice responded from up ahead, gruffer. “Could be worse. Rockwood’s got his hands in every pocket over there, though. Nott still won’t talk, but he and Thorne have something sneaky planned and we’re close to finding out what it is.”

“Tssk, they really keeping secrets now?” Another Death Eater closer to the front asked. “Like we don’t have the entire ministry under our thumbs.”

The first Death Eater shrugged. “We’ll find out eventually.” He said, surely. “Thorne’s a pussy. Besides, we know where he lives. He’d want to protect his family.”

Barty’s head tilted slightly. That name -Thorne- he’d heard it before. But where?

“Thorne’s ministry.” He mumbled, mostly to himself, kind of confused.

“So was Rockwood.” Came the answer, he wasn’t sure which Death Eater answered. “Doesn’t mean a damn thing anymore, they’re all slowly caving.”

Barty stopped in his tracks, a Death Eater walking a few feet behind him bumped against him with an angry grunt. They probably gave Barty an angry look, but it wasn’t really possible to tell behind the mask.

But he realized something.

Ministry. Ministry.

The ministry found him. The ministry took him.

But what would the ministry want with Evan?

Shit.

His father.

--

“You see, if my mother doesn’t like my cooking then why does she keep saying I need to cook for her? It makes no sense.” Thorne said as he wandered up and down the cold cell.

The countless asking of questions and throwing of spells had taken a break. A very much needed break for Evan because he was… it was bad. There had been multiple points in the past few days he really wondered if dying wasn’t the better option.

He looked bad. His arms were filled with a mixture of crimson and brown spots and scrapes, indicating both old and fresh blood from somewhere. His nose, the spot where the iron cuffs cut into his wrists, his mouth from biting his tongue as he was getting hit with the cruciatus curse.

He had a few cuts and scrapes covering his face. Evan wasn’t sure where they came from, he only knew they were there because he could feel them starting to form a crust and itch. There was one slashed right through his eyebrow that kept getting back open and bleeding into his eye.

Nott hadn’t returned since the last time he performed the curse two days ago, and Evan had never been more grateful to only see Thorne. At least Thorne wouldn’t perform any unforgivables.

“But then I don’t want to tell her no because she’s still my mom.” Thorne went on with a story Evan wasn’t following. “You get what I mean?”

Evan looked up- barely, but he could still move his neck even though he was slumped away against the wall, folded up into a tiny shell of himself. Broken, in pain, but breathing. “No.” He replied, weakly.

Thorne frowned, walking a bit closer. “Don’t have that problem with your folks?” He asked.

Evan kept following him with his eyeballs, trying not to move his head too much because every movement hurt. “No.”

“Lucky you.” Thorne said with a shrug.

“They’re dead.” He didn’t say it for sympathy. Just to make Thorne flinch.

The man titled his head. “Really?” He asked, watching Evan with a semi interested look. “Who took care of you then.”

“None of your business.”

Thorne sighed, looking away. “Just when I thought we were becoming friends.”

“A friend wouldn’t tie me up and torture me.” Evan spoke. He wanted to sound angry but everything came out in a barely audible whisper.

Thorne let out a laugh, an evil one. “Well, a friend wouldn’t be such a little bitch about telling a few details about some secret mission that could potentially be fatal for everyone in the wizarding world.”

“You’re just assuming it’s something dangerous.” Evan rolled his eyes.

“I’ll assume the worst until you share the details.”

“Never.” Evan replied, then he coughed.

He coughed something up. Blood, bile, something nasty. It was coppery when it entered his mouth and red when it reached the floor- so, blood.

Not a very good sign. Not good at all.

Thorne laughed again, it didn’t reach his eyes but he did seem to enjoy himself. He stood over Evan, too close, too dominant- too much power over him.

“You’re dying.” He stated, then took out his wand to clean up the blood from the floor in a fluent motion. “You don’t have to die, Evan.”

“Don’t say my name.”

Thorne let out a mixture between a chuckle and a groan. He sounded crazy. “Fuck you’re stubborn.”

Evan let out a broken laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. Then it felt quiet for a few seconds.

Until Thorne spoke again:

“Your friends aren’t coming for you.”

Then he walked towards the cell door, turning back one last time.

“If they do…” He smirked. “You’ll already be dead.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 49: Dunridge

Regulus and Barty had arrived at a small village. They had only just shaken off the other Death Eaters they had been patrolling with, finally able to talk about their newly won information.

“What if-”

“It was my father. My father took him.”

Regulus sighed, pushing up the mask so it rested on top of his head, revealing his face to the cold evening air. Barty mirrored him.

Barty looked angry. No, not angry, fuming, furious, about to explode. Deadly.

Regulus looked like he understood. He had already puzzled it together during the walk. No one had spoken about Evan in the hour they had walked with them, no one mentioned a secret mission besides the ‘thing Thorne and Nott were up to’.

It was their only lead, and it was a good one. One with hope.

“I’ll kill him.” Barty said, his voice was darker than usual.

Regulus shook his head. “It’s only a lead,” He said. “It makes sense, the ministry took him. But that doesn’t mean your-”

“Throne and Nott are in his department.” Barty interrupted, then he scoffed, looking away. “This is all my fault.”

“What?” Regulus asked, stopping in his tracks, watching Barty with furrowed eyebrows. “How?”

Barty quit walking as well, turning around to face Regulus again. His anger had softened into something sad: guilt.

“I should’ve killed him a long time ago.”

“You didn’t know this would happen.” Regulus countered, then he put a reassuring hand on Barty’s shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself.”

“I knew he would eventually cave and do something to screw me over.” Barty said.

He let out a loud groan, then kicked the stone wall behind him. It belonged to an empty looking house.

“Still not your fault.” Regulus said again, softer, reassuring.

“But it-”

“Not your fault, Barty.”

Barty scoffed, leaning his head against the wall he’d just kicked, letting his arms slump down. He stood like that for a few seconds, then turned back to Regulus with a different look on his face. Guilt had turned into fear, into something worse.

“Reg, my father is a bad man.” He explained, stepping closer to Regulus, looking down on him past his nose. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Regulus tilted his head a bit. “Actually, I do.” He said. “You told us, remember?”

“It wasn’t just that. He didn’t just use that curse on me-- he used me with that curse.” Barty raked his hand through his hair, wiping it out of his face, revealing his tired eyes a bit more. “I- Evan’s just not safe, okay? If he’s not dead yet he will be soon.”

“Then what the hell are we waiting for--?”

But before they could move, a sound came. Soft, maybe not to be heard by everyone but Barty and Regulus both did. Not quite an apparition but definitely magic. Almost like a disillusionment charm being cast- or lifted.

“Someone’s here.” Regulus whispered, quickly pulling Barty’s mask back down, then his own. Smoothly sliding back into their roles, into their old lives.

They moved quickly, walking down the street like they had a purpose. Moving as shadows, not running away but hoping to disappear before whoever got there noticed them.

But it was too late. They had already been noticed.

Footsteps were getting closer, faster, yet there was no one walking behind them. Regulus quickened his step, grabbed Barty by his arm and yanked him into an alley right after they turned a corner.

All they could do was hope.

“Where’d you go?”

Regulus recognized the voice. He let his head fall back against the wall with a soft groan, not wanting to attract any attention.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He whispered.

“Show yourself!” His brother yelled, his voice direct and commanding. He took a few threatening steps closer to where the two of them were hidden.

Then the sound from before sounded again and they could see his shadow wavering along the edge of the alley, threatening to enter but not yet doing so. Regulus and Barty were both holding their breaths, crawling as far back into the dark alley as they could. Their backs were pressed against a bunch of stacked up crates. There were two options from there: right or left.

“Pads watch it.” Lupin’s voice sounded a few feet further away. Of course he was there as well. “One flick and you’re dead.”

The shadow turned, lingered, then left.

Barty let out a deep breath, “Fucking hell what are they doing here?”

“We’re in Dunridge.” Regulus whispered, not yet moving out of the alley, the darkness kept them hidden well enough. “They patrol here.”

“Then why the fuck are we here?!” Barty said- yelled in a panic, too loud, too quick.

Regulus shushed him but it was already too late.

Because right after, both Sirius and Remus reappeared at the entrance of the alley, this time determined with their wands steady in their hands.

Regulus barely had time to think.

Barty shoved him back instinctively, deeper into the alley, as both of them moved as shadows, slipping behind a stack of broken crates. Wands drawn, breath locked. Their masks were still on, but it wouldn’t take much for Sirius to recognize his own brother’s posture, or Barty’s gait, the way he held his wand like a knife ready to stab.

“Who the fuck is back there?” Sirius growled, slowly stepping into the alley.

“Sirius no.” Lupin warned again. “We don’t know who they are.”

Sirius snapped his head to Remus, “We know what they are.”

Then he stormed into the alley.

“Split.” Regulus whispered, barely audible. Barty nodded once; no time for a plan- just instincts and trust. They turned opposite directions like liquid shadow, slipping down different branching paths of the alley.

“Oi-!” Sirius shouted, lunging after Barty’s side. Lupin followed him without question, leaving Regulus to roam free.

He was about to reach the end of the alley when he was forcefully stopped by a body he harshly ran into. Regulus fell down to the ground, backwards. He quickly tried to fumble for his wand before he even noticed who it was.

“Don’t you dare take that wand out, scum.” The voice sounded, threatening and direct.

Regulus quickly looked up into the eyes of the person that floored him. James. He immediately dropped the attempt- he didn’t need his wand.

Because James already saw.

“Regulus?”

Regulus nodded, pushing himself up from the floor to come eye to eye with James. James stepped forward.

“Take it off.” James said. “Please.”

Regulus hesitated. Then, slowly, he peeled his mask off. His face was flushed, breath quick, hair slightly stuck to his forehead where the mask pushed against it. He looked younger in the moonlight. Guiltier.

James exhaled sharply. “You absolute idiot. What are you doing here?”

“We’re… working.” Regulus said, voice quiet but firm. “Following a lead.”

“On Evan?”

“Yes.”

James swallowed hard. “You know something?”

Regulus glanced back into the alley, hoping to catch a glimpse of Barty, but instead he only heard the distant shouting of his furious brother. Chasing him, somewhere through the streets.

“We can’t talk here.”

“Oh you’re going to talk alright.” James demanded, pointing his finger against Regulus’ heaving chest. “Because I haven’t slept since you came to my apartment last time. I’ve been worried sick, going back between not trusting you and fearing you’re dead. Now you show up here wearing his uniform, your Death Eater uniform? Why?”

“It’s the only way to get closer to the ones involved.” Regulus said, low. “We had to.”

James stepped closer. “Don’t give me that ‘we’ bullshit.”

“What? Are you jealous now? Scared, maybe” Regulus scoffed. “We’re not Death Eaters anymore. Barty isn’t, Evan isn’t and I’m not!”

“Yeah? Show me your arm.”

Regulus stopped his movements, just staring at James now.

James bit his lip. “Thought so.”

“That’s not fair.” Regulus argued. “I-”

“I don’t care, Regulus. That sign shows enough. You were once a Death Eater, you can’t expect me to trust you in a heartbeat anymore.”

Regulus didn’t wait to hear anymore. He had to leave. “Thorne and Nott took Evan.” He said, looking at James though darkened eyes. “They’re in Barty’s father’s department. Ministry black site, probably. We don’t know where yet. We’re trying to find out.”

James swallowed hard, taking a small step back. “You’re serious?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t.”

He turned then, gaze scanning the edge of the alley where the shouting had grown distant. Barty was still out there, still running from Sirius. He had to move.

Regulus looked back at James one last time. “You don’t want to trust me? Fine. But at least I’m doing something. You don't want to help? I don't care but to not get in my way.”

And then he vanished into shadow, again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 50: Remus

Remus knew everything.

He’d carried heavy burdens before- too many for any child to bear. When he was five, he was bitten by a werewolf. Shortly after, his father left, vanishing like a shadow in the night. Cursed to live between two worlds, always an outsider, always the secret to hide. That early loss taught him silence and endurance, how to carry pain alone without breaking. It was the foundation of everything he knew about carrying secrets.

It had always been a flaw to him. Knowing everything meant carrying every secret, feeling every burden weigh down on him without even asking him for consent.

During war, everything weighed twice as heavy. The lies he had to tell to keep everyone safe, both from the outside world and from each other, pressed him down so deep he often lost himself because of them.

Sirius was his rock. The only one he could turn to and dump those secrets on so that they could at least suffer together. Sirius was tougher than him, he had been keeping secrets and lying his entire childhood, he was used to it.

This time Remus couldn’t tell him.

He couldn’t tell Sirius that James -his best friend- was lying to him about his brother’s death. There was no way any of their relations would survive that. They were on the verge as it was, every tiny argument in the group was becoming a big deal. There was too much stress, too much tension.

James and Lily were clearly not doing well, but only Remus seemed to really notice. He didn’t want to tell Sirius, because he was afraid somehow the conversation would be redirected to Regulus and he would have to tell him.

How did Remus even find out?

It was pretty simple detective work. Remus came to visit his apartment a few weeks ago, to pick up some clothes they could take to their next safe house. Things had been getting unstable, they couldn’t stay at Grimmauld Place in a big group anymore.

James had been at the apartment; nothing new, he came there often. Remus already knew he and Lily weren’t sleeping in the same room anymore, he’d heard footsteps go up to the attic everytime James said he was going to bed- that wasn’t where Lily slept. Just him, alone.

That day, Remus had walked in and instantly known something was off.

The flat was small. You could hear a cough through the wall, a footstep in the kitchen. But the moment he stepped in, there was a silence that didn’t sit right. Not the absence of noise—but the presence of something hidden.

James looked startled to see him, not in a guilty way, but in the way someone does when they’re caught before they could prepare. He was holding two mugs of tea. And there was only one of him.

Remus didn’t say anything right away. He offered a tired smile, pretended not to notice the extra mug. He went to get the clothes.

That’s when he saw it: a towel, still damp, thrown over the back of the door in the tiny bathroom.

An unfamiliar scent in the air- Regulus. He was the only one who he’d ever smelled this expensive. It was the kind of scent you couldn’t get off your hands for hours.

Still, Remus didn’t ask.

It wasn’t until a week later, after a mission where James was off, distracted, too fast to hex, too slow to cover his back- that Remus connected it all. James wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t eating much. He wasn’t even writing to Lily.

He was hiding someone. He was hiding Regulus.

And once Remus realized it, he realized everything.

He always knew James was up to something back at Hogwarts.

That one time James came to talk to him a while back, when Remus advised him to just talk to Lily. He knew that wasn’t about Lily. He knew that when he started the conversation, but he didn’t know it went this deep, this far back, this messy. It was all a downward spiral of lies and betrayal.

Remus found it hard to forgive James. But he did, quietly. He hated him for it. For all of it. Cheating on Lily -which he wasn’t sure happened, but was very likely-, hiding the fact Sirius’ brother was alive from him, hiding his relationship with Sirius’ brother from him for Merlin knows how many years.

It was all clear. Regulus Black was alive, and James knew.

Remus didn’t know when, or for how long, and if they even regularly spoke. But James knew Regulus was alive. Helping him or not, this made him a bad friend; and an even worse member of the Order.

Love does weird things to a man’s brain. Remus just hoped it wasn’t love.

Not because he thought James didn’t deserve love, but because Sirius didn’t deserve this kind of betrayal.

Remus sat on that knowledge for days, and it poisoned everything.

He wanted to tell Sirius. Desperately. It wasn’t fair to keep it from him. But Sirius had grown unstable lately, on edge- haunted, even. The last thing Remus wanted was to detonate that bomb in the middle of everything.

Instead, he carried it. Like he always did.

Until one night, Sirius came to him and asked, voice rough, eyes bloodshot: “Moony, do you think we’re all going mad?”

Remus had looked him dead in the eyes and lied through his teeth. “No.”

Because if he’d said yes, he might’ve confessed everything.

He didn’t. Because he couldn’t.

And now they were standing on the edge of something- war, betrayal, or worse: the truth.

And Remus knew it was going to break them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 51: Almost isn’t Enough

“Evan!” Thorne walked into the cell, cheerful as ever.

Psycho.

Evan didn’t look up anymore. He’d decided days ago that looking up cost too much and offered him too little in return. Watching Thorne wasn’t how he wanted to spend his last few breaths.

Thorne sighed. “You look down in the dumps.” He said, then he walked a bit closer, crouching down next to Evan.

He grabbed a fist full of his hair, pulling his head back and making him look at him. Evan hadn’t really gotten worse since last time Nott was there which had now been about four days. But the lack of worsening didn’t mean he was getting better.

There had been multiple occasions on which he’d coughed up blood.

They had stopped feeding him, only sometimes giving him water in a cracked mug- sometimes, sometimes not. Evan needed food to regain strength and they clearly knew that, hence why he didn’t get any.

Thorne smirked, scanning Evan’s face. “I warned you, Rosier.” He said, then tutted his lips. “You’ll die like this if you don’t talk.”

Evan squeezed his eyes shut, his neck hurt from the rough way Throne had pulled his head back. He didn’t want to talk but he also really didn’t want to die.

“What will happen if I talk?” he rasped, testing the words like a blade. It was the longest sentence he’d spoken in days, and it hurt- but not as much as dying without answers.

Thorne poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, then let out a singular laugh of disbelief. He pushed Evan’s head back down, just as roughly as he’d pulled it up, letting his fingers pull the hairs just a bit extra.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” he asked as he straighted his back.

Evan’s head tilted to the side. “No change of heart.” He whispered, his eyes sly even though they were dry and dark. “You want something. So do I. Let’s deal.”

Thorne raised his eyebrows. “A deal?” He asked. Evan nodded, slightly. “You’ve got my attention.”

“I want to know how you found me, why you took me and who’s behind all this.”

“No.” Thorne said, immediately.

Evan scoffed, letting his head drop back down. “Alright, no details then.”

Thorne bit his lip, watching Evan for a few seconds, considering- calculating.

“Why do you even care?” He asked, crouching down again, this time tilting his head to watch Evan instead of forcing Evan to look up.

Evan shrugged. “Maybe dying would feel more like closing a chapter that way.”

Thorne nodded, slowly, pursing his lips. He sat down next to Evan, crossing his legs like a child ready to hear a campfire tale.

“You’re with the ministry.” Thorne started.

“I know that.” Evan said, immediately, looking to the side, annoyed. “What department?”

“Magical Law Enforcement.”

Evan laughed, softly, quietly, yet hysterical. “Crouch’s department.”

“You’re a quick one.” Thorne said, nodding. “Yes, Barty Crouch Sr.”

“And what does he want with me?”

Thorne looked away. “Honestly?” He asked, “No idea.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Right, so you’re just here to torture and leave?” He asked. Thorne didn’t respond, he just watched him. “How did you find me?”

“You’re a loose end for many sides.” Thorne said. “There’s a member of the Order that works for us- pretty sure he’s a Death Eater as well but who can tell anymore.”

“Who?”

Thorne shrugged. “All I know is they call him a rat.” He said. “Not sure what that’s a metaphor for.”

Evan’s eyes widened, the name hitting him like a slap. “Pettigrew?” he echoed, disbelief and revulsion crawling into his voice.

“That’s him!” Thorne exclaimed, as if they were old friends solving a puzzle together. “You know him?”

“…yeah” Evan said, very slowly, in thought. “From school.”

“Ah, well, he’s a nark on basically all sides but gets the job done.”

Then Evan realized. This was the moment he had to get out. Now. Now or never. Because Peter Pettigrew being a spy on all sides? That might just mean the end of everything they’ve been working for.

Even besides that: Regulus would never forgive him if something happened to Potter that could’ve been prevented. Let’s be honest, Regulus Black isn’t the perfect example of mental stability as it is. Kill off the man he loves and he will crumble. And they really needed Regulus.

“Hey, Thorne?” Evan asked, tilting his head. “I think there’s a bug in my hair. Could you take it out?”

Thorne furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not your monkey, Rosier.” He said, yet he got up to look at Evan’s hair. Evan followed his movements, calculating. “There’s no-“

That’s when Evan hurled himself up on his feet. The top of his head smashed against Thorne’s chin, making him stumble back a bit before catching himself on his feet.

Thorne touched his jaw, his eyes carefully placed on Evan who was clearly racing with adrenaline. Thorne let out a whisper of a laugh and a scoff combined, spat out some blood —Evan assumed he bit his tongue— good.

“Oh you fucking—“

Evan didn’t let him finish. Just as unexpected as the first move, he leaped forward. The adrenaline rushing through his veins was the only thing keeping him upright in that moment and he was thriving on it. In the leap forward, he kicked out his leg as far as he could. He barely— but just about reached Thorne’s kneecaps.

Thorne tumbled to the ground, forward, with a sound of surprise. “Fuck—“

He already had his wand in his hands, ready to do something, to contain Evan, but he just wasn’t fast enough. The fall forward had brought Thorne closer to where Evan was cuffed to the wall, making him an easier target.

Before Thorne could even get up on his feet Evan had already kicked him in the side, then against his face— then Thorne dropped his wand.

Evan didn’t hesitate a second before he raced to get it off the floor. Neither was there a moment of hesitation in which he doubted freeing himself from the cuffs would be the best option.

And just like that: Thorne was the one at gunpoint.

“Shit Rosier, the fuck was that.” Thorne wheezed out, sitting on his knees, looking like a weak man. “I thought we were bonding.”

Evan scoffed. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.” He threatened, the wand that didn't belong to him shook between his fingers. The air around him felt like hope and he could just about smell the freedom he was almost walking into.

But Thorne first.

Thorne laughed, dramatically, annoyingly. “Oh Evan!” He yelled out, manic. “You won’t!”

“You tortured me. You and Nott belittled me and used unforgivable curses on me. What do you mean I won’t?!”

Thorne stopped laughing, just smirking now. Pure evil smirking. “Why do you think we picked you, Evan? Why wouldn’t we take Black or Crouch? You’re weak!” Thorne yelled, letting his head lull back and then tilt to the side. “You’ve never killed anyone, and you won’t.”

Evan wished for Thorne to be so terribly wrong. But he wasn’t. Evan would never do it, because he’d never done it before. That was true.

“How do you—“

“Know? Because we keep track of it! You’re in the department of magical law enforcement!”

Evan’s grip on the wand faltered for just a second. One second too long.

Because Thorne had struck a nerve. A deep nerve— one that hit where the truth lived. A nerve you couldn’t outrun. Not even when you were bleeding, half-dead and gripping borrowed power in your hands.

“I could kill you.” Evsn said, his voice trembling. “I should.”

Thorne just smiled. “But you won’t.”

It wasn’t arrogance, it wasn’t even mockery. It was plain certainty. And that made it worse.

Evan took a step back, the wand raised, his hands shaking. He wanted to do it— to end it. To make it mean something. But all he could see was Barty’s face, the last time they’d fought, and the way he’d looked at him afterward— like Evan had already disappeared.

His stomach twisted. The wand lowered.

“You’re right.” Evan said, voice hollow. “I won’t kill you.”

Thorne grinned wider. “See? Knew it.”

“But I will make sure someone else does.”

Evan was about to run. He could see the shine of the far candlelights reflect on the cell door. So close yet so far.

Because Thorne was prepared.

“NOW!” He barked.

The ambush was immediate.

It didn’t take a lot of force to get Evan back in his previous position. The adrenaline had started to wear off and the harsh feeling of unnecessary truths had started drowning him. It took barely one of the two guys that had ran in to pin him back against the wall.

And Evan wanted to fight— Merlin, there was nothing he’d rather do than fight. But he couldn’t, his body didn’t allow it. And when he did try to throw a punch?

“Expulso!”

The blast hit the far wall, too wide. He staggered. A stunner slammed into his side.

He crumpled.

Another hit to the back— then a kick, sharp and cruel, to the ribs. He gasped, curled instinctively, and tried to keep hold of the wand.

Too late.

One of the guards seized it, pressing a boot into Evan’s chest. “Got him.”

Evan coughed, wet and raw, and let his head fall back against the cold stone floor.

Thorne crouched beside him, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves.

“That was fun,” he said, all sugary menace. “A little excitement before the boss gets here.”

Evan’s pulse stopped cold. “…what boss?”

Thorne leaned in, whispering like a lover. “You’ll see. He’s been dying to meet you.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 52: The Devil Doesn’t Bargain.

Another three days had passed since their last lead and Regulus and Barty were no closer to Evan than they were before they even knew who took him. Every day that passed was a painful one; filled with exhaustion and arguments between the two overly tired men.

They were stressed. Maybe for different reasons, but their stress and exhaustion had synchronized somewhere along the way. The two of them had gone over to auto-pilot, almost as if they weren’t in full control of their own bodies anymore.

It was another morning, quiet, but in a tense way. Barty was halfway through a coffee he wasn’t sure he even tasted. A cigarette dropped lazily between his lips, just smoldering there, not actually being used in the way it’s intended.

Regulus was a few feet away. The cigarette smell had stopped bothering him ever since Barty had started to smoke like a chimney again. Permanently sitting in the tent wasn’t exactly the life he wanted to live, so he’d accepted that his hair would smell of tobacco and despair. Because that smell might even be stronger, and it was dripping off Barty as if he’s swam in it.

Every passing day, Barty blamed himself more. More and more and more. It was His father who took him. His fault Evan went away on his own in the first place.

And honestly? Regulus couldn’t tell him to shut the fuck up and quit his way of thinking every damn time. There wasn’t any space left in his head for Barty’s overthinking. Not when he was overthinking his every life decision himself.

Barty kept flipping through ministry rosters, trying to find a way, a person, an entrance to go through that would get them into the Ministry of magic without being noticed. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing some smoke toward Regulus before speaking.

“It just doesn’t make any sense for him to take Evan.”

This was probably the thing Barty had said most over the past few days. ‘It doesn’t make sense’. Fair, because it didn’t. But then it also totally did? Because taking Evan would clearly fuck Barty up way more than taking him himself or taking Regulus. Sure, they would be desperate to get Regulus back as well, but nothing compared to the way Barty was collapsing under the fact that Evan was gone.

Regulus crunched up his nose at the smoke. “Could you not blow it my way at least?”

Barty rolled his eyes, took another huff, then blew it towards Regulus again.

“Childish.” Regulus scoffed, turning the other way.

---

Evan did not know what to expect.

Meet the boss. Who even was the boss? He knew he was being held by the ministry, more specifically Barty’s father’s department. Illegally, he suspected, because the department of magical law control did not usually take in ‘criminals’ or whatever they saw Evan as.

Evan was almost a hundred percent sure that him being held there wasn’t for safety reasons, or because they thought he was a danger. He’d spent days in the cell, thinking this was the reason. But being held by Barty Crouch Seniors department in specific? This wasn’t a safety issue, it was a family issue.

But then again… no, it couldn’t be.

What would Barty Crouch Sr. even want with him? What would he have to say to him? Why wouldn’t he have taken Barty?

It was very confusing, Evan often had a headache. Which was only partly due to the many things he’d been thinking about. The headache came mostly from his head being smashed into the brick wall again and again.

Throne and his men didn’t just leave after Evan’s little escape attempt. No, they stayed and made sure that he couldn’t even escape if he wanted to any time soon. No magic was used, but Thorne kept ordering the men what to do and they just did it. Evan wasn’t sure what position he had in the department, but he did know these men were more scared of the dusty looking maniac than they were of hurting Evan.

They had broken his leg. One of them, and probably not even on purpose. Evan’s body had started giving up on him. Not in a way that felt like dying with pain, but in a tired way. Even when he wanted to move he couldn’t, because the response between wanting to move and actually moving didn’t seem to exist anymore.

Evan wasn’t sure how long it had been since this all happened. He just knew pain, and maybe even worse than the pain: the plain boredom in a time he shouldn’t be allowed to be bored at all. Staring at the wall whilst knowing there were people he loved fighting for a cause made him anxious in a way he’d never felt before.

After a long time of headaches, leg pains and anxiety, maybe two days had passed- someone finally came back into the cell. Evan wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or terrified when he saw it was Nott who walked in. He did not have the temper to deal with Thorne but then he also didn’t think he would survive another torturing by the cruciatus curse from Nott.

Nott’s eyes scanned over the shell of a man left against the wall of the cell. Bloodied, weak, thin in a way a proper meal wouldn’t fix. But Nott never seemed like he really cared about that.

“Get up.” He ordered before anything else. He clearly wasn't there to play, but to get something done.

Evan let out a laugh of disbelief. Though it sounded more like a huff, a last breath, than a laugh. If he had more energy in his body and mind, he would’ve answered with something sarcastic and trying. But he didn’t.

“How?” He just asked, his eyes tired as he watched Nott stoically stare at him.

The man pulled out his wand.

Evan knew Nott by now. He knew he wasn’t going to throw some healing spell at him, make it all alright. That wasn’t the way this man handled ever. Nott handled dirty, more often with blood as the outcome.

“With a bit of willpower, maybe?” And with that, Nott pointed his wand directly at Evan’s chest. Not close enough to touch but the shadow of the piece of wood came over his face like a dread.

“Imperio.”

Just like that, Evan lost all control over his own body. He felt everything; the way his body moved, the absolute agony of moving his broken leg. He could think, he was aware, but he couldn’t choose. He wasn’t allowed to choose what he wanted to do.

Evan had been under the influence of Veritaserum before. The truth potion, forced to speak even your deepest secrets to your worst enemies without leaving room for even a beat of silence.

This? This was way worse.

They learned about the Imperius curse in sixth year. They were always taught to try to resist; try to go against it even though it would hurt like hell and probably not work. Evan couldn’t work against the curse, he couldn’t even try. He was so fucking tired.

He was hoisted up on his legs without a warning, his body obeying whatever Nott told it to do. Evan could see his lips moving, but he couldn’t hear him speak. He only knew pain, pain and fear. Because this was scary.

Evan wanted to ask where they were going as he was being forced to walk out the cell. The broken leg trailed behind him as his body used it as cane to limp on. His lips were sealed, he couldn’t talk- maybe that was for the better.

Nott trailed behind him like a shadow, housing up his wand like a muster holding up the strings of his puppet. Evan couldn’t see him but he could feel him, feel the way he was telling his body what to do.

Evan tried to make notes of his surroundings, tried to get some perspective as to where he was. For what he was able to make out he was in a dungeon. Not very deep, there were windows scattered along the top of the brick wall where some light came through. It was day, that was clear, but not very useful if he ever got out.

He was forced to walk up some stairs, but even the imperius curse couldn’t make a person fly. This was physically impossible for Evan to do. Which meant it hurt even more because his body was resisting the curse. Nott supported him up the stairs. Even in Evan’s hazy state, it still felt weird to have the man who tortured him support his side.

Nott dropped Evan off at an office, close to where the stairs ended. They had left the dungeon, now in a black bricked hallway with only the singular black office door slightly opened.

When Nott lifted the curse, Evan fell forward into the opening, straight to the ground with a loud thud. He felt like a pudding, like something boneless and squishy. No frame was holding him and he almost missed the curse when it went. Almost, because replaced by the curse came a full shot of pain he wasn’t allowed to feel while he was under the influence of the imperius curse. His leg felt like it might just fall off, as if it was held by a singular string of skin, completely unattached to his body.

He wasn’t even allowed to collect himself or sit up before he was forced to look up by someone grabbing his chin.

Fuck.

“Evan Rosier.” The man holding his face said, not smiling, not anything. No emotions, just like Nott, only this man was way more scary than Nott. Because Evan knew this man.

Barty Crouch Senior. A man he’s met many times when he was younger but had never given a second thought. Someone Evan had grown to hate in the same rising line as he’d started to fall for his son. For good reasons, of course, he was the worst man to have as a father. Maybe one of the worst people alive at the time, even.

But Evan wasn’t afraid of him. He’d been through it. Cruciatus curse, Imperius curse. The only one left was the killing curse, and Evan already knew they weren’t going to let him die. They needed him, his answers, and they were clearly still expecting him to break somehow.

The man let go of his chin, roughly, making Evan tumble back onto his hands. He was already on the floor, didn’t bother to stand up. Why would he?

Crouch walked over to the desk which stood two steps higher than the rest of the office. Evan used this time to take in his surroundings again. The big bookcases around the room, the detailing around the walls: He knew this room. Not this room exactly but this type of room. He was in the ministry of magic building, in London. If he wasn’t, they had invited the exact same architect to build this room alone. The windows were closed off by blinds, so there was no way to make sure.

“Now, Rosier.” Crouch spoke as he sat down in a chair. One of those chairs only high end people had at their desks, a big one with leather and gold lining. A chair that already told Evan this man was a complete ass.

Evan didn’t speak, he watched, looked around. It took him until then to realize his arms weren’t cuffed for the first time in what could’ve been two weeks- well, aside from the few seconds days before when he’d tried escaping. He could finally see the damage they did to his wrists. Not that this was the biggest of his worries, but it still made him sick to see the mostly brown red old blood dried up around his hands.

Crouch took a pile of papers off his desk, laying them out in front of him, putting on his glasses. “Why won’t you answer any questions?” He asked, not even looking at Evan as he spoke. A power move, he might’ve thought.

Evan shrugged, then regretted doing that as he flinched from the pain shooting from his leg through his back and straight to his skull. The shrug went unnoticed, as did the twitch in Evan’s face.

“Speak up, boy.” Crouch ordered.

“No.” Evan said. He wanted to sound more assertive but his voice came out weak and absent.

Crouch looked up from the desk, watching through the gap between his forehead and the glasses. “Mister Rosier.” He said. “Is this really worth it?”

Evan stared back at him, eyes dark and hateful. “Definitely.”

This clearly did not satisfy Barty Crouch Senior. Evan could already see he expected the conversation to go very differently. This did satisfy Evan a bit, annoying the living hell out of the man in front of him.

Crouch shook his head, breaking the eye-contact. “Stubborn child.” He said, more quietly but loud enough for Evan to hear.

“Sucks right?” Evan said, he still sounded weak but he was determined to fight back with words as long as he could still use his voice. “Could’ve gone a lot easier for you if you were a normal father to your son.”

“Don’t you speak to me like that.” Crouch said, his cool tone slipping as he snapped his head up at Evan. His eyes spat fire, and Evan ate it up, fueled himself on it.

Evan tilted his head as far as he could without hurting himself too much. “Truths can be harsh, can’t they?” He asked, quick-witted. “It’s a good thing he didn’t inherit your temper.”

“He did, boy.” Crouch assured him, he’d quickly calmed himself down when he noticed what Evan was trying to do. “You just won’t ever find out. Because you won’t ever see him again.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Well, as much as I believe that, I won’t talk.”

Crouch sighed, returning to the papers. He took out a quill and started writing- was this man working, really? Right now?

“My son used to understand the value of obedience.” Crouch said, disappointment clearly came through in his voice. “Then he ‘died’, only to become a… what I can only assume would be a vigilante.” Crouch looked up, tilted his head, as if he was trying to understand something. “Because of you.”

There was a beat of silence in which they both stared at each other.

“You’re scared of me.” Evan stated, almost amused by it.

“I’m most certainly not.” Crouch said, turning over a page in the file he was reading. “I am, however, scared of what your existence means to my son.”

That line landed. Evan didn’t know what to say anymore. No clever response or salty reply could be formed now that he was made aware of the fact even Barty’s father knew something was going on.

Barty Crouch Sr. cleared his throat, clicking the pile of papers against the table and putting them to the side. Then he took off his glasses and finally spared the blonde a final look.

“By the time this is over, he won’t remember your name.” Crouch said. A promise, almost. “And neither will you.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 53: Starlight

Barty was reading through another ministry file, minding his business as he muttered everything that could be useful out loud. He circled it all, every name, every location. Anything. He changed the cigarette in his hand for the quill every few seconds. Barty seemed a lot older than he actually was. His face had changed, mostly because of the lack of food he could get through his throat, but also because the frown lines in his forehead had taken permanent residence there.

Regulus had turned to walking around the fireplace, thinking, stopping in his tracks every now and then and then returning to the former. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, which wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

It was quiet, as usual, they didn’t speak. Speaking would end in a discussion and that discussion would only end in a pit of sadness and probably alcohol if they still had that somewhere.

Until the bushes rustled. Not very close, but too close to be supposed to be there with all the spells they had casted around their tent.

They’d experienced this before. Dobby, the house elf, popping out of the bushes and scaring the living hell out of them all.

But this rustle was louder, there was something bigger coming.

Barty was on his feet in seconds, no time to waste before his wand was up and ready.

They both thought, of course, that maybe it could be… but it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t.
No- who stepped out from the brush a few feet away?

James Potter.

He had his hands up high as a sign of peace, wand not even in sight as he walked into their safe space, their campsite.

“Don’t curse me.” He said, quickly, lowly, mostly looking at Regulus who was just completely flabbergasted.

“How the fuck did you find us?” Barty asked after he spared Regulus a single stare and realized he was not going to answer.

James turned his head towards Barty first, his eyes wandering away from Regulus only a few seconds later. He didn’t dare take a step closer to them, the distance enough for them to have to yell in order to understand one another.

“Don’t get all mad,” James said, hesitantly, as he slowly let his hands down. “I put a tracking spell on Regulus.”

That’s when Regulus finally awakened from his trance. “What?!” He snapped, walking closer to James, almost threateningly . “What makes you think you have the fucking right to-”

“Reg!” Barty yelled before Regulus could reach James. “Don’t, what if it’s not really him?”

James bit his lip. “He has a point, you know?” He said, watching Regulus now only a few feet away from him. His arms twitched by his sides— he so clearly wanted to reach for him.

Regulus huffed, getting his own wand out of his pocket and pointing it at James. “How do we know it’s you then?”

“Ask me a question.” James said, not scared of the wand. This already said enough, the real James knew Regulus would never curse him.

A short silence was spent by Regulus thinking of questions. There were many things only James knew about him, but those were things people could figure out if they just dug deep enough. No, this had to be personal.

Regulus sighed, already regretting the question he hadn’t even asked yet. “Alright then, possibly Potter.” He said, wand still steady in front of him. “What did you always call me when you thought I was asleep?”

James blinked, then let out a breathy laugh. “Really?” He asked.

Regulus didn’t smile, didn’t move.

James’ lips turned to a grin when he saw Regulus meant it. That grin: Sweet. Gentle. Familiar.

“Starlight.”

“Oh, that’s disgusting.” Barty yelled from the other side of the clearance.

Regulus lowered his wand. His cheeks tinted pink, just lightly, but enough for James to notice. “Yeah, okay, that’s you.”

James nodded, the grin flowed into something softer, something sweet. Then James turned to Barty. “Can I come closer now?”

Barty lowered his wand. “Only if you never say that again.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, also turning to Barty. “Shut up, it’s cute.”

“What am I?” James asked, winking at Regulus as he walked over to him.

“Shut up, I’ll kill you.” Regulus warned.

They walked back to the unlit fireplace together, shoulders brushing in a way that was so clearly not by accident Barty found himself gagging at it. Once they were finally there, they both stared at James, waiting for him to talk.

He didn’t, he wasn’t looking at them. He was looking at the tent, the fireplace, everything around it.

“Do you guys live in a tent?” He asked, stepping towards their tent and putting his head through the opening. “Wow, spacious!” He exclaimed, muffled by the tent fabric between them.

Barty took a handful of his shirt, pulling him away from the tent and back outside. James looked at him, mouth slightly open and surprised at Barty’s audacity to pull his shirt.

Barty rolled his eyes at the reaction, letting the shirt go. “What are you doing here, Potter?”

“Right!” James replied, shifting to take something out of his pocket.

It was a piece of parchment, covered with a table. Regulus and Barty both took a side, watching it over James’ shoulder. He pointed his finger at the first row of the table. “These are names.” He explained, wiping his finger over the names. Then he moved his finger to the next box. “These are cells. Each cell has its own number.”

“I’ve seen this already.” Regulus said, watching the paper past James’ shoulder-- definitely not distracted by the smell he once knew so well. “But Evan wasn’t on this, it’s only Death Eaters awaiting their trials.”

James nodded, quickly. “Yeah, no, you’re right.” He said, then pointed back at the cells. “The cells at the Department of Magical Law Control are all full.”

“My father’s department.” Barty said, making James turn to him.

“Yeah, Barty Crouch Seniors department.” James confirmed.

He took another piece of parchment out of his pocket. This one had a map, a map of the ministry. Maps of the ministry weren’t allowed, there were too many secrets hidden in that building not all wizards and witches were allowed to be aware of.

“How did you get this?” Barty asked, taken aback. “This isn’t-”

“Legal?” James finished, then shrugged. “We all go a bit rogue in times of war. The Prewett twins made this, when they were still with the ministry.”

Regulus watched the map, there was a small part circled in red. “That’s Crouch’s department right?” He asked, pointing at it, brushing James’ arm as he did.

“Yes.” James said, following Regulus’ finger. He moved his own finger down a bit. “Below these rooms, there’s a dungeon. It was originally built to keep creatures who were sentenced to death by beheading. Very gruesome place.”

“But that means there’s a cell there?” Barty asked, hopeful, his eyes brightened up immediately. “Evan’s there then. He’s in that cell. We have to go now-”

“Barty, wait.” Regulus stopped him from running away immediately. It was good that they had a lead but they still needed a plan.

Barty stopped, just like Regulus said. “What? Want to have a tea party? You can kiss Potter on the weekends.” He complained.

James choked on the air he’d just inhaled, his cheeks flushing red. Regulus smacked Barty's arm.

“No, we need to come up with a plan first.”

“We can do that on the way, we need to move.” Barty said. There was urgency behind his voice, he had to find Evan. It had been long enough. Too long.

Regulus shook his head, grabbing Barty’s arm before he could move away again. “Think about it. If we die trying, Evan will still be trapped there.” He said, then turned back to James. “Do you have any idea how we can get in?”

James hesitated. He bit his lip, then answered: “Well, yes. But it’s not… safe.”

“How unsafe is it?” Barty asked, he seemed more intrigued than worried about it.

“Well, I know your father a bit. We’ve spoken on occasion, Mad-eye worked close with him as well-”

“Who’s Mad-eye?” Regulus interrupted.

“Moody.”

Barty snorted. “Evan is iconic for that, let’s be honest.”

James rolled his eyes. “He almost murdered him, Crouch.” He counted, Barty shrugged, he stood by his point. “Anyways, Crouch Sr? Nothing. He knows his curses but he’s not that good when it comes to a fight. But he’s got guards, strong ones; not just at magic but physically.”

“I’ll be fine fighting those.” Barty said, already pulling his wand out his pocket.

“That’s where the danger comes in.” James said, nodding at the wand. “You can’t take a wand.”

They both fell silent, sharing a look, because no magic? That was a big deal. Every fight they fought had been won by magic.

“Why not?”

“They’ve started tracking wands in the ministry. If you enter the building with a wand that’s not supposed to be there, they will find and kill you immediately.” James explained, really emphasizing the weight of that. “The ministry isn’t what it was. Most of the ministry officials have joined You Know Who’s army or are involved with him in some way.”

“But we’ve got different wands, not our own.”

“It’s still probably people who aren’t supposed to be at the Ministry, so you just really can’t take them.”

Regulus sighed, deeply. “Shit, well, okay then.” He said, then he left the huddle to walk over to their bottomless back scattering around it.

Barty turned to James after watching Regulus leave.

“Why are you helping us?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “This isn’t a trap, right?”

James frowned. “No, what?” He said. Then his eyes wandered to Regulus a few feet away ploughing through the back, sitting on his knees, his black curls which were way overdue for a haircut curled into his neck.

“Fuck Potter, you’re married.” Barty said with a huff as he followed James’ eyes to Regulus. He raked his hand through his hair. “You have a child.”

“I’m very much aware of my marital state, Crouch.” James snapped, “I just… I thought about it. And I believe you’re working on something bigger than yourselves- something real.”

Barty furrowed his eyebrows together. “Regulus didn’t tell you-”

“He didn’t, don’t worry.” James said, quickly. “I just…”

“Love him.” Barty filled in.

“Still, yeah.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 54: The Return of Evan Rosier

After he got brought back to the cell -which he had no real memory of- Evan wasn’t sure how to feel. He didn’t believe the things Barty Crouch Senior had told him, yet they reached him in a way. What if they weren’t looking for him anymore? What if he was really never going to see them again?

Evan didn’t have much time to think though. Immediately after getting back, Thorne and Nott came back in. Together. And whatever Crouch Sr. had told them to do; it wasn’t good.

They weren’t holding back anymore in the slightest. The questions became less about wanting to be answered and more about having a reason to throw a curse. Nott didn’t throw anything at him he hadn’t before, but the way he was doing it, curse after curse, Evan had a hard time staying with it.

They didn’t stay long, though it felt like a lifetime to Evan. Thorne just observed and asked questions, as always. But he seemed… different. Less annoying, more dangerous. Crouch had definitely told them something.

He crouched down to get on eye level with Evan, daring him to lift his gaze from where it was fixed on the dusty concrete floor. When he didn’t even try, Thorne took out his wand and placed it under the blonde’s chin, forcing him to look up.

“Die.” Evan whispered, barely. Just this one word seemed to demand all the energy he could possibly muster.

Thorne raised his eyebrows, twisting his wand into the flesh of Evan’s neck. “Oh c’mon Evan, we’ve been over this.” He said, his face disappointed. “I don’t die, you do.”

---

Regulus had pulled a bunch of daggers out of their bottomless bag. Not a very big surprise for Barty, more of a surprise for James.

James had known Regulus through and through-- his fears, his favorites, his pride. But that Regulus had been sixteen, unscarred by war. The man before him was different. Regulus wasn’t sixteen anymore, he’s full grown-- forced to grow up by someone who didn’t raise him. James didn’t know the Regulus that served a horrible master for two years, the one who fought everyday to figure out a way to stop said master.

James never really met that Regulus before.

But that Regulus was starting to shine through. In the way he stood, presented himself. The way he fought, the way he was always aware, the look in his eyes. He looked prouder, but also older, too old for his age. He always seemed tired, yet so awake.

They had made a plan. Mostly Barty and Regulus had, they were better at it. In terms of the Order, James was never really the planner. He was more of a type who liked to be told what to do and then execute it perfectly.

The plan was to apparate close to the apartment James often slept at; the one belonging to Sirius and Remus. They’d put their stuff in the apartment, together with their wands.

Stripped of their magic, they all felt naked. The weird thing? They weren’t scared of the mission. There was a lot of adrenaline, obviously. But none of them were really afraid.

James did these kinds of missions in his day to day life. It had basically turned into his day job, mission outside of the law; against the ministry, against anything the wizarding world had built up in all those years of peace. Grindelwald, the one before You Know Who, had broken their walls down once, the Order knew how to handle the breakdown. Especially Dumbledore, he always knew.

Barty and Regulus? They just knew at the end of this magicless tunnel filled with blood, they’d run into Evan. More wasn’t needed for them to put their fears aside and rush into it head first. Heart first.

For the mission to work, they had to do it by day. Sneaking into the ministry at night would ring all kinds of alarms and they’d be dead in seconds. Luckily, they got their stuff at the apartment without being seen. James had to assure Barty about thirty times that no one would come into the apartment and look into the locked supply closet while they were gone until he finally believed it.

Their way in would be the phone booth. Those didn’t arrive in the very centre of the ministry, but more to the side where they could easily blend into the crowd. The clothes they wore were everyday clothes any middle aged wizard would wear to work. This, together with a hat and a long coat made for a perfect disguise.

Regulus wore his hair up, into the hat. He looked funny-- a lot like Sirius with his hair tied together in a small bun. He hated it when he looked into the mirror, but then James said he liked it and Regulus turned a very obvious tint of red again.

James kept glancing at him sideways the entire way to the phone booth. He looked thinner than before-- pale and ragged around the eyes. James had the sudden, irrational urge to make him tea. Or force him to sleep. Or just... touch his hand. They didn’t talk at all.

They went in just after shift change.

It was around four in the afternoon which was perfect. Just the right time for many people to be walking around there, but for none to actually pay attention to their surroundings; all so caught up in their jobs, moving through the day like a bunch of sheep. They slipped through the atrium in silence, took the lift down to Level Two, and stepped into the corridor outside Magical Law Enforcement’s hidden wing.

It wasn’t hard to find: they had their maps, and James had a wide knowledge over the layout of the ministry.

It was a restricted section, clearly indicated by many signs. The walls were black, shiny, already calling for concern of what was to come. No one should’ve been there. Two guards were.

They looked up. One squinted. “Oi- who the hell--”

Barty moved like a shot. No hesitation. He rammed the first guard into the wall with a sound like thunder, shoulder slamming into ribs hard enough to break them. The man shouted—but Barty punched him in the throat. Then the gut. Then slammed his head into the stone wall again.

“Don’t scream,” Barty muttered. “We’re being stealthy.”
The second guard reached for his wand. Regulus didn’t give him the chance. He moved with surgical precision- two steps forward, a sweep of the leg, and the man hit the ground. Before he could cry out, Regulus dropped to one knee and pressed his dagger to the man’s ribs. “Breathe wrong and you’ll bleed out.”

The man froze.

James stood back, heart pounding, hand halfway to the dagger in his back pocket The silence that followed felt like static.

“Alive?” Regulus asked calmly.

Barty leaned back from the first guard, who was now wheezing and unconscious, face bloodied and nose crooked.

“Technically.”

Regulus nodded. “Leave them. We’re on a clock.”

They moved down the corridor. Every step deeper into the hidden level was colder, darker. A maze of stone and rusted bars.

“This is the hallway, right?” Barty asked, turned to James who looked a bit shaken by all the blood. Order work was more… clean.

He nodded, nonetheless. “Yeah, the holding cells for-”

Regulus held up a hand. Voices. Footsteps.

“Three,” Regulus said, not even whispering.

“Four,” Barty corrected, tilting his head. “There’s another, hanging back.”

“How do you want to play it?” James asked.

Regulus gave him a look. “Don’t get in the way.”

The guards rounded the corner.

“Hey!” one barked. “This area’s restricted--”

Regulus was already moving. He launched himself into the first, knife out, feinting high and cutting low—across the thigh, a clean slice through enchanted leather. The guard howled and dropped. Regulus grabbed him by the collar and threw him into the second guard.
They collapsed in a heap. Barty tackled the third. No flourish. Just speed and weight and rage. They hit the floor hard. The guard tried to fight- Barty twisted his arm until it snapped. Then he hit him. Again. Again.

“Merlin-!” the fourth guard stumbled back, drawing his wand.

James stepped in- shoving him against the wall, reaching for his wand. “Stupe--wait, shit-!”

His wand wasn’t there. No magic.

The man headbutted him. James reeled- but ducked the follow-up punch, grabbed the man’s arm, and kicked his knee in.

“Little help!” James shouted.

Barty turned, grinning. “On it.”

He kicked off the wall, crossed the corridor in two strides, and slammed into the fourth guard with the weight of fury. He caught him by the collar, spun him, and drove his head into the stone.

The guard crumpled.

James stared. “Bloody hell.”

“You’re welcome,” Barty said cheerfully, then winced, rubbing his bruised knuckles. “Fuck, I forgot how good this feels.”

“Disgusting,” Regulus muttered. He was already on his feet, checking the guards’ pockets, pulling keys and IDs, moving like a ghost through chaos. “We need to move. James! Take his wand.”

James did as he was told, pulling the wand of the barely breathing guard Barty had just smashed into the bricks. Regulus pulled a key ring out from one of the guards’ pockets, tossing it at Barty who- of course- caught it as if he knew already.

Regulus stood. He looked terrifying, wild, flushed from the fight. James had never seen him like this. He wasn’t afraid. He was alive.

“Well, go on then!” He half yelled, looking at the two men who were staring back at him. “Find him!”

Not a lot more had to be said for Barty to run off, down the hallway.

The glazy black bricked hallways lead to a bunch of stairs, which lead down to a basement. A nasty, mossy, stinky basement.

And then it hit Barty. He was not prepared to see Evan yet.

Yes, of course he was fucking ready to get him out and have him back and fuck he kinda wanted to kiss him again as well. But the sheer disgust this eerie basement gave him -all of them, really- made him realize he was not ready to see the state Evan would be in.

Because Barty was still convinced this was his fault. His fault for having such a father, his fault for not murdering his stupid father when he had the chance. HIs fault for allowing it to even happen. And he would have to face exactly what his actions -or lack of them- had for consequences.

It was a clear, visible shift in Barty’s movements. In the sense that he completely stopped moving once he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Because then he saw.

One singular cell, iron bars ensuring anyone on the outside something dangerous had to be held there. It smelled like something rotten, something dead.

Fuck fuck fuck.

But then this also set him to walking again. James and Regulus had already reached him, he’d been standing still for a few seconds, a few long seconds of hesitation. He might not have been ready, that’s just too bad.

Barty looked through the bars, but the cell was too dark to see. Then he riffled through the key ring Regulus had thrown at him. His hands were shaking- his hands never shook, fuck doing this with shaking hands was hard.

“Fuck, Regulus. You do it.” Barty said, frustrated to his core.

Regulus took the key ring, but before he could even start searching for the right key James already pulled out the stolen wand.

“Alohamora.”

The cell unlocked with a click.

They went in. Breaths all held in, eyes desperately trying to focus on the darkness.

“Lumos.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 55: In Sickness and in Health

“Lumos.”

The light emitting from the tip of the wand wasn’t close to enough to light up the entire cell, but it did something.

They could now see that the entire cell was made up of cobblestone, just like the hallway, only there was no moss inside the cell. The floor was rock hard, concrete, and dirty with all kinds of colors they were not very eager to learn more about.

It was cold inside the cell. Not the kind of cold that makes your breath visible and freeze water. A kind of cold that sets deep into your bones, makes you shiver. It was uncomfortable. But it was also more than just cold. It felt like the presence of a dementor, only there were not dementors around. There was no way the dementors from the court room reached two floors down into the basement. This was something else, something eerie.

Like death.

James was the first to step forward. Evan and Regulus both seemed… hesitant. That feeling of death and grief around them, it didn’t exactly give them hope. Along with the fact that there were no sounds coming from anywhere around the cell.

Holding the wand, James stepped further inside the cell, carefully looking around. The chance that traps were placed somewhere in the cell wasn’t entirely zero percent.

“Evan?” James asked. No reaction. It was worth a shot.

Then Regulus moved as well, stepping out next to James and narrowing his eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness.

Another step forward, more light.

And there he was.

Evan.

His wrists chained in front of him, his head hung low over one of his knees he had pulled up to his chest. The other leg was-- well, not entirely shaped right, so either broken or healed very wrong.

He looked… awful. He looked like he had been attacked by Centaurs, then was used as a throwing ball by giants and finally dumped into a river of blood. Just awful.

He wasn’t awake either. But he had to be alive, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to sit.

Right?

Regulus pushed past James, went right for the body slumped against the wall, crumpled up on the ground.

“Evan? Evan, it’s us.” Regulus said breathlessly, not too loud, also not whispering. He didn’t touch him, he wasn’t sure if he should, if he could.

No response.

“Fuck- Evan, please,” Regulus took the chains around Evan wrists between his own hands, then turned around.

James dropped to his knees next to Regulus. “Alohamora.”

The chains clicked open, Regulus carefully pulled them off Evan’s wrists. They were covered in bruises, probably from struggling against them. His wrists had gotten significantly smaller. Evan had always been a bit too slender, but this topped everything. Looking at his shirt- which had started looking more like Dobby the house elf’s pillowcase, his ribs were too clearly visible. As if he’d been starved for weeks.

Regulus took Evan’s now free hands into his own. “Evan?” This time he whispered. It was desperate, like a plea. Please wake up.

James pressed his lips into a thin line, looking from Evan to Regulus. “Reg…”

“No!” Regulus quickly dismissed, snapping his neck towards James, whatever James was going to say. He knew, what he was going to say, but he didn’t want to hear it. Evan was not gone. “Crouch, get the fuck over here!”

Barty, who had remained unmoved since even before James had lit up his wand, finally snapped out of it. He wasn’t sure what happened, but all of his muscles had just stopped working at once.

He didn’t even know how but suddenly, he was by Evan’s side, opposite of Regulus and James, looking at Evan with more fear in his eyes than ever before. The sight of Evan made him want to cry- and Barty never cried.

“Shit--” Barty muttered, sticking out his hand to James. “Wand, now.”

James passed the wand. Barty pointed it at Evan’s chest.

“Vita Revela.”

A faint glow spread over Evan’s chest. Faint, but there. Definitely there.

All three of them let out a sigh of relief. Evan was alive- and they had to get him out of there.

---

“Where’s Prongs?” Sirius asked as he walked into the kitchen of their newest safe house.

The Marauders had split up a short while back. Not like they weren’t friends anymore; but as a safety procedure. The main home of the order still was located at Grimmauld Place, but the members had all gone to different locations.

James and Lily were forced to go totally off grid. No one would tell why, and even Lily didn’t seem to understand. James clearly knew, and he was very vague about it.

Sirius didn’t pry. He knew if James kept it all a secret, there would be a reason for him to do so. James did trust Sirius with the location of their safe house. Sirius, and Sirius alone. Not Peter, not Remus. Only him.

Him and Remus had gotten a small apartment outside of the city as their safe house. It wasn’t as protected as the house James and Lily were staying at, but it had some protective spells cast over it. Overall, it just looked like a regular apartment in suburban London, which was the best way to stay hidden.

Remus turned to look at Sirius, looking away from the pasta he had been cooking.

“Home?” He suggested with a shrug, turning back to the food immediately.

“He’s not, Lily said he stormed out last night after spending an entire day in his study.” Sirius said. He walked over to Remus, hoisting himself up on the counter in front of him. “You think he’s at our old apartment?”

Remus shrugged again, not looking at Sirius. “Sure.”

Sirius sighed, “I really don’t understand what’s going on between him and Lily.” He said, leaning back against the shelves above their kitchen. “It’s weird. They get a baby and all of a sudden their marriage is dead.”

“Yeah.” Remus replied, not seemingly interested in the conversation, stirring his tomato sauce.

Sirius tilted his head, reading his boyfriend’s face. “Almost as dead as this conversation.”

Remus stopped stirring, looked up, unreadable. Remus always was unreadable. “I’m tired, love. Sorry if I’m not the most fun to talk to after surveilling the entire day.”

Ah, he was annoyed.

“I don’t care if you’re fun to talk to, I just need you to genuinely talk to me.” Sirius replied, “You don’t need to crack jokes or anything. I’m worried about James and all you can do is recite every baby’s first few words back to me.”

Remus didn't reply at first. He spooned a little sauce out of the pan and tasted it. Too acidic, apparently-- he reached for the sugar jar.

Sirius waited. Watched him pour the sugar. Stir it in. Still silence.

“You do realise he’s probably doing something reckless, right?” Sirius pushed. “He stormed out, and Lily said he didn’t even say bye to Harry. That’s not James.”

Remus finally met his eyes. “No. But you’re also not sleeping. And that is Sirius Black.”

Sirius blinked. “So now we’re what, playing the war trauma card to shut each other up?”

“I’m saying,” Remus said slowly, “we’re all falling apart in different corners of this stupid game board. James. You. Me. Lily’s holding the centre like it’s her last job on earth, and even she looks like she’s unraveling. So maybe don’t pick a fight with me for not being more talkative about it.”

Sirius let that sit between them. He slid off the counter.

“You know I’m scared too, right?” he said, voice quieter now. “Not just for him. For us. For you.”

Remus didn’t answer. He just turned the stove off and set the pan aside. A heartbeat passed, then he crossed the small space between them and rested his forehead against Sirius’ shoulder.

“I know.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 56: Murder on His Mind

Barty didn’t need to be told twice to pick Evan up. He wasn’t heavy- too light to be healthy.

The three of them moved as fast as they could. Regulus and James ahead, Barty trailing behind with a tight grip on the blonde in his arms. The air was thick underground, heavy with damp and decay. The tunnels stretched ahead of them, narrow and winding.

Then- A sound. Soft. Pained.

Barty stilled. His breath caught.

It was Evan.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Barty exhaled a broken laugh, looking down at Evan’s face, watching his eyes move around beneath his eyelids.

Then a shift came in the air. A presence. Regulus felt it before he saw it.

Behind them, from the shadows- wandlight. A voice sounded, cold and cruel. “You really should’ve stayed hidden.”

Barty knew that voice all too well. He was raised by that voice. The voice alone made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out again. He had hoped to never hear it again, yet somehow he seemed to be haunted by it.

James moved on instinct. The wand in his hands shot out rope, tying the man’s arms together behind his back and making him stumble to the ground. The man’s wand fell out of his hands, but he didn’t seem to mind. He seemed… amused, in a crazy sort of way.

“Such a shame you got here so quickly.” Barty Crouch Sr. spoke, not taking his eyes off Evan, though he was clearly talking to the two other men who were spitting fire out of their eyes.

Regulus spoke up.

“Should’ve defended this place better then, Crouch.” He said.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. I’m glad you’re all here.” Barty Crouch Sr. said, upbeat. His eyes were crazy, murderous. “I just wish me and Evan could’ve had some more fun before you did. He’s temperamental, lovely choice son.”

Barty growled. The sound coming out of his throat resembled something wild, deep and raw. How he hated this man.

Crouch laughed. “Oh, that struck the right snare I see.” He breathed through his laughter. “Don’t worry son, I didn’t touch your boyfriend.”

“What the fuck do you want from us?” Barty asked, lowly, his grip on Evan tightened on instinct.

Evan was starting to stir more and more. Not woken up yet but getting there. Barty really wanted to get out of there before he did; who knew what kind of trauma this man had put upon him? Looking back at the way his father treated him when he was little, there was no way he would act nice to an adult. Or maybe he just hated children and the way he acted towards Barty back in the day was specifically targeted (which Barty kind of already knew was true).

Either way, judging by the way Evan looked, covered in blood that might not all have been his. A broken leg, split lip, skinny to a point of danger. He wasn’t treated like a high end guest there, that was clear. And Barty was sure of one thing now: this was done under his father’s orders.

Crouch Sr. stared at his son, sheer disappointment came through in his entire being. “What has become of you, son?” He asked. “You were supposed to join him, make sure our family is safe. What happened to protecting your mother?”

“Please.” Barty said, rolling his eyes. “Mom is dead, don’t even try to play that card.”

A quick look of disbelief shot through Crouch senior’s eyes. “Barty, your mother is still alive.” He said, and for a second, Barty let his guard down. His grip loosened a bit, Evan almost fell out of his arms.

There was no way his mother was still alive. When he left home to join the Dark Lord’s army three years before, she was ready to take her last breath. His father had been in denial back then, so it was entirely possible she died and he just wouldn’t believe it. But still, Barty loved his mother. He hadn’t seen her in so long and he thought he never would again, so sue him for having a bit of a reaction to that.

James and Regulus noticed -obviously- and shared a look.

What would Barty do if he wasn’t distracted?

Kill his father, probably. But James wasn’t about to kill a man. That wasn’t what the Order stood for. And Regulus didn’t want the murder of Barty Crouch Sr on his record. He’d killed before, but no one of high ranking. Just snitches and ‘unimportant’ people the Dark Lord wanted out of the way.

“No she’s not.” Barty finally responded, his tone wasn’t as sure as he’d wanted it to be. “She was sick, she died.”

“She got better.”

Fuck, was he serious? Barty didn’t know what to believe. His father had always been somewhat of a pathological liar, telling whatever truth suited his best interest. But lying about his presumably dead wife? That wasn’t something he’d ever imagined him doing. Barty knew his father didn’t love him, but he knew for a fact that his father loved his wife.

He didn’t know what to do. He had planned to kill his father one day. He’d hoped soon, one day soon. Today? But if his mother was still alive he didn’t want to rob her of the only person who still was present. This would make him the bad guy for leaving and taking everything with him, everyone.

“Fuck off.” Barty said. “Get the hell away from me.”

Regulus didn’t say it, but he remembered what it felt like to hold a wand and wish your father dead. And what it felt like when the wish came true.

“That’s immature, Barthemius.” His father rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t have to be like this, you used to be a good kid.”

Barty scoffed. “You forced me, to be a good kid.”

“Your mother misses you.”

That could’ve just done it. If his father hadn’t caused Evan the pain he knew he had, that single sentence might have gotten him to stop the entire mission and join his father back at home. But he couldn’t. Evan looked bad, and every time he looked down he was once again met with the horrible thoughts and possibilities of what they had done with him.

Evan, once the bright one of their little group, now looked pale and lifeless in the glow of the faint candlelights coming off the wall. He was still stirring, it became more frequent, his breath was finally becoming noticeable.

“You’re manipulating me.” Barty stated. “Reg, give me the wand.”

Barty Crouch Sr. crossed his arms, waiting with anticipation, as if he was curious to see what would happen.

Regulus hesitated. “Barty, he’s-”

“Fuck, don’t give me the wand then, just kill him.”

“No.” Regulus said.

“No?”

“No, Barty.”

Barty let out a deep breath, turning to Regulus who seemed sure of his case. “You have eyes right? You see what happened to Evan?”

“Yes, I can see that, and it’s fucking horrible.” Regulus replied. “I also happen to have had parents I hated. I always prayed they’d die somehow— but now that they are, all I feel is a whole extra lot of emptiness. That part of your life may seem like it can’t be forgotten soon enough, and maybe that’s true. But don’t do this just because you’re angry, do it when you’re sure you can live with the consequences.”

Barty spared his father another look, then looked at Regulus, then at James. “What about you Potter, should I kill him?”

James had been looking at Regulus -of course- and was startled after hearing his name. “Uh- well, I wouldn’t?”

“Of course not.” Barty hesitated for a few seconds, then groaned. “Let’s get out of here then because if I see his face for another second I will do it.”

---

Getting out of the ministry wasn’t hard.

Apparently, all the guards had been called off to a different section of the ministry where a known editor of the Daily Prophet had tried escaping. He’d written a particularly ‘upsetting’ article on Voldemort, and the real truth about the ministry’s involvement in the war. He’d also praised Dumbledore in his article, which was something no ministry official could get on board with.

They had left Barty Crouch Sr strapped by the arms in the restricted section of the ministry (but not before Barty gave him a real harsh knee against the head which left his nose bleeding).

They escaped the same way they got in. Phone booth, get back to the apartment, take their stuff, see Remus-

Wait.

Fuck.

Regulus and Barty stepped into the apartment first and were immediately confronted by someone they really, really did not want to run into. Not that they were supposed to run into anyone for that matter, that would kind of defeat the whole fake death idea.

Then James followed, not yet aware of the situation and maybe even more surprised by the man he faced once he looked up from the floor.

Remus was sitting on the couch. His hands were interlocked with one another, his gaze was strongly set on James.

“Prongs.” He greeted, ever so calmly, then turned to Regulus and Barty again, and the body in Barty’s arms. “Explain?”

“Lupin.” Regulus nodded. For their entirely dissimilar looks, they shared the well practiced gift of staying calm in situations others freaked out about. “We’re… alive.”

“I can see that.” Remus replied, formally, sitting up straighter. “Already knew, by the way. James is a terrible liar.”

James wasn’t sure he was processing all that was happening just right. He was high with adrenaline and also low for getting caught with quite literally the enemy. This wasn’t the plan. Remus wasn’t supposed to be there. He was never there, in the apartment.

But Remus knew? James hadn’t said a single word about it. Well, very nicely hidden in lies he had asked him for advice. But that was months ago… Remus wouldn’t wait that long for James to tell the truth himself, he couldn’t have lied to Sirius for that long. And if he had, that might just mean he was in just as much trouble with his boyfriend as James was with his best friend.

James, still catching up, had never wished harder to be invisible. Or dead. Or invisible and dead.

Barty let out a heavy breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He couldn’t give a single shit less about the fact that another Order member figured out they weren’t dead, all he cared about was Evan.

Evan getting the blood cleaned off his face, it couldn’t all be his. If all the blood were his, he’d have bled out before they got there. He needed the grease washed out of his hair, the dirty mangled clothes off his body. He had to eat, he was too skinny, it wasn’t healthy.

Evan laying down on a soft, comfortable bed, because that’s what he fucking deserved after months of traveling on a skimpy airmatress that lead to getting tortured in a dungeon for two weeks. Evan deserved nothing short of the perfect room with nice smelling candles and soft cotton pyjamas with little hippogriffs in them because those were his favorite creatures. And Barty knew, he had to get those pyjamas but then also— shit, Evan just needed to wake up. Please.

“Fuck, can you two figure this out later?” Barty asked, not entirely calm. “Evan needs serious medical attention.”

“Is that Rosier?” Remus asked, standing up from the couch hurriedly. He seemed to have forgotten about the discussion he was about to start with James.

Barty nodded. “Ministry took him, please tell me you know some healing spells.” Barty wasn’t a man to plead, but for this, he’d beg, crawl, barter his soul.

Remus hovered over Evan. “Bloody hell, didn’t even recognize him.” He said, then hurried off to another room. “Put him down in the bedroom, I’ll get my wand.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 57: He’s in the Walls

Evan’s first though when he woke up was ‘I’m in heaven’.

He was comfortable. His hair didn’t stick to his forehead anymore, he felt no dry blood anywhere on his body, the impeccable aching of his leg had turned into more of a shy stinging sensation— nothing compared to what he had been feeling for days.

There was a warmth. A warmth coming from all around him, as if he was being swallowed whole by a nice, comfortable summer breeze. But his hand was warmer. His hand was on fire, burning but not up until a point where it hurt. A nice kind of burning, like the sun shining on bared skin on a day the UV index is just a bit higher than usual. The sunlight had a pulse, it was beating against his hand in a calming rhythm.

Evan opened his eyes, slowly. He was ready to greet wherever he was brought by the angel that took him. He had seen the angel, charming and handsome. The angel had talked to him, though Evan wasn’t sure what he’d said. But then the angel seemed worried, he seemed sad. Evan didn’t want the angel to be sad.

Maybe he could apologize to the angel after his eyes adjusted to the lights. He wasn’t sure if he would be there, but he really hoped he was.

His eyes were hazy, but his gaze was starting to regain its focus. The crusty eyes told him they had been closed for a very long time. He let his blurred vision trail down to the source of the heat on his hand. There were fingers, holding his. Not interlocked but also not loosely hovering. Pale, calloused knuckles covered his palm. The fingers shook, slightly.

He knew those hands.

“Barty?” Evan croaked, voice raw.

The hand squeezed his, hard. Then—

“Fuck,” Barty whispered, barely audible. He dropped his head lower, examining Evan’s face closely, looking into his eyes as if not doing so would mean death. “You’re awake.”

“You were the angel.” Evan spoke again, his lips twitched upwards weakly.

Barty let out a soft, wet laugh. As if he’d been crying. “You’re delirious."

—-

“Evan’s awake.” Regulus announced as he walked into the living room where James was seated opposite Remus. “If you want to see him.”

After helping out, Remus had left without a word, mumbling something about having to get back to Sirius and not wanting to raise suspicion. He’d only just gotten back to the apartment which meant him and James hadn't spoken about the whole situation yet.

It was clear neither of them wanted to actually start the conversation. James didn’t know how to explain himself, he didn’t know how much Remus knew and he wasn’t looking forward to sharing anything more than necessary.

Remus kept his mouth shut because he wanted James to give him a reason first. Not for his -which he figured was a romantic- relationship with Regulus, which had been going on for much longer than the war. Not even for his actions, for helping them in this situation. Because Remus understood, people do crazy things for the ones they love. Remus felt that before, when his three best friends became animagi just to keep him company during the full moon. When his boyfriend threw himself into literal fire for him during a fight with some Death Eaters.

What Remus didn’t understand was the lying. So much pain could’ve been prevented if James had immediately come forward with the truth. Regulus Black is alive, Sirius’ brother is alive.

Remus wondered if James knew. If James knew his best friend spent every night talking to the stars, hoping to get a response from the person he felt he wronged, the person he thought he’d failed.

Regulus nodded at the lack of response. “I’ll just-”

He was already getting back into the room when Remus verbally stopped him. “No, Regulus, wait.” He said, gesturing to him to come over to them. “Come, sit.”

“Do I have to?” Regulus grimaced. There was a silence that told him he indeed did have to, so he walked over to them.

“Sit down.” Remus said, looking up at Regulus.

Regulus sighed, then sat down next to James on the couch. Remus could almost laugh at the similarities between Regulus and Sirius. The kind of stubborn reluctance they both showed whenever told what to do-- it annoyed him to his bones. But it was also one of the things he adored about Sirius, which made it hard not to feel some kind of closeness to Regulus (even though they didn’t really know each other past Hogwarts).

They sat there like two kids getting scolded by their mother. A very, very confused and disappointed mother.

“Who's going to talk first?” Remus asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll wait.”

James looked to his side, praying for some support. Regulus just looked back at him with a look that said ‘what do you want me to do’.

Remus watched. This small interaction, it spoke paragraphs.

“What are you two?” He asked.

James looked at Regulus again.

“We’re… wizards.” James stated.

“You know what I mean, James.” Remus said sternly. “As opposed to one another, what are you?”

What were they? Very, very good question. Did either of them know the answer to that? No. Did both of them hope to get a certain out of the other? Yes. But neither of them was going to speak up about it, because that would only throw more gasoline over the burning fire that was their relationship at that point.

Regulus sighed when he noticed James wasn’t planning to speak up.

“Alright then, we used to be a… thing, back at Hogwarts, before Potter got with Evans.” Regulus explained.

Remus nodded, not seeming too surprised. “I suspected so.” He said, turning to James. “What about now?”

“I’m married.” James said. “To Lily.”

“Very well.” Remus responded, his tone even. He wasn’t convinced, but this’d do. Remus turned to Regulus again. “Why did you disappear?”

Regulus bit the inside of his cheek. “We’re on a mission.”

“For him?” Remus asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“No!” Regulus replied, quickly. “We’re not… Death Eaters anymore.”

“What mission then?”

Regulus thought, for a split second, that maybe he should just throw it out there. Share the mission, ask them for help. But that’d mean more danger for them, knowing alone brought danger with it. Besides that, the Order would get involved and Regulus would have to face Sirius which he wasn’t sure if he was ready for.

“I can’t tell you.” Regulus replied, carefully. “I’m sorry, this is between me, Barty and Evan.”

“Do you know?”

Remus asked James, and James felt a wave of shame washing over him.

“No.”

Remus nodded, then let out a huff of what could’ve been a laugh in a different situation. “Right, because you’re James Potter and you blindly trust everyone around you.”

“I don’t-”

“Have you ever thought about what this would do to Sirius?” Remus asked, tilting his head with a frown. “Did it ever cross your mind that Sirius might not recover from this? All this built up. You’ve been lying to him, not just about your relationship with his brother, which would’ve been enough to end your friendship with him. But about his brother being alive. Do you know Sirius spends every night, talking to the stars for hours, searching for Regulus. Praying, begging, hoping, for his brother to eventually return to him. That not a day goes by where Sirius isn’t blaming himself for his disappearance?”

James flinched. “Remus-”

“No, you didn’t know that.” Remus said with an aggressive nod, then turned to Regulus. “And neither did you.”

A short silence sat between the three of them.

“Sirius hates me.” Regulus said. He felt small, everything Remus just said felt like a violent attack. “This simply can not be true.”

“What?” It was James who said this, not Remus. Regulus turned to look at James with a confused frown.

“He told me he hates me, right before I left to join the Dark Lord.” Regulus elaborated. “That I’d never have to show my face to him again if I got that mark.”

“Merlin, you Blacks are so dramatic.” Remus groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Sirius loves you, and he always will. You’re his brother.”

Regulus felt a huge wave of guilt wash over him. He didn’t say anything, there were no words forming in his mouth to describe what he was feeling. It had been his only excuse. He didn’t tell his brother because he thought he hated him… but he didn’t, apparently.

“I didn’t know that, Moony.” James replied to the rant about Sirius, his head hung low. “I got caught up in my own crap, and I know Sirius won’t forgive me for this and I will tell him once this mission is either finished or out in the open. I just haven’t thought of the right words yet.”

Remus stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed. James was his friend, his friend who had made a horrible, unforgivable mistake. But still his friend. One of the people who didn’t care he was a werewolf, one of the people who never once judged him for wearing second hand clothing. Someone who risked his life for him more than once.

“Alright.” Remus replied, stoically. “You better come up with the right words soon.”

James nodded, “I promise, I mean it.”

Regulus was trapped in his own head. He didn’t care if James and Remus made up, because now it was his problem. He was the jerk who played dead for over a year by then, Sirius was the saint praying for him.

“Regulus.” Remus said, snapping him out of it.

“What?”

“I’m not going to lie to Sirius.” He said, honestly. “If he starts talking about you I will tell him.”

Regulus didn’t want him to, obviously. But he wasn’t going to stop him either. He knew Remus and Sirius were a thing, and he knew how hard it was to keep secrets from someone you’re in love with.

He nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. “I understand.”

The bedroom door crooked open, disrupting the awkward conversation at hand. Barty appeared in the opening.

“Evan wants to see you.” He said, looking at them all. “All three of you.”

Remus and James shared a confused look before hurrying behind Regulus into the single bedroom.

Evan laid there, skin pale as parchment, aside from the multiple bruises on his chest and face, and the split lip and eyebrow which still looked painfully red.

“If you touch him you die.” Barty said before stepping aside and letting the two Order members into the bedroom. Somehow, through the pain, Evan had a soft smile on his face as Barty retook his position by his side

James rolled his eyes, Remus scoffed. “Is that a threat?”

“Did it sound like a compliment?”

“Be civil.” Regulus warned.

Evan groaned as he started sitting up a bit. It was the first time he tried, he didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Barty quickly put a hand on his lower back, supporting the blonde who shot him an annoyed look. “I can do it.”

“You can’t.” Regulus stated, arms crossed.

“You look like shit.” James added, kind of-- yeah, maybe even relieved to see him alive. Shit, never in his life did he expect to be happy to see Evan Rosier breathing.

Evan rolled his eyes, turning to the two men by the door. “Yes, well, thank you Potter.” He said, his voice wasn’t entirely back yet but it was already better than when he just woke up. “It’s called torture glow, actually.”

James flinched. “Right, sorry.”

“Why did we have to come in?” Remus asked, watching Evan with a slight worry that said just a little too much.

Evan gave Remus a nod. “Hello there Lupin, fancy seeing you here.”

“Everybody seems surprised to see me in my own apartment.” Remus replied.

“Does Lupin know Evan?” Regulus asked James in a whisper. He looked just as confused by the interaction as him.

Barty, who still had his hand on Evan’s lower back, coughed. “Well, anyways, you wanted to say something.”

There were a lot of things Evan had forgotten about the two weeks he’d been away. They weren’t permanently gone, Evan blamed it on a trauma response of his brain trying to protect him from spiralling. Things were coming back to him fast though, and there was one thing in particular he needed to say.

Somehow, he was glad Potter and Lupin were there, because they were the ones most involved.

“I had a conversation with the man who-- well, the man who tortured me basically. We had this agreement that I would give him answers if he gave me answers.” Evan started, a long sentence, too long for someone who barely survived a hellish dungeon only 48 hours prior.

Evan took a deep breath, kind of ashamed to be out of breath because he was speaking.

Barty moved his hand from his lower back to his chest, gently pushing Evan back down onto the bed. Evan watched him do it, slightly annoyed, but he didn’t stop him either.

“And he told me there was someone, a person that worked on all sides, including the order.”

Another pause, deep breath, all eyes were on him waiting in anticipation.

“There’s a spy, he’s working for Voldemort. He’s in the walls, he’s always in the walls.” Evan said, vaguely. Everyone in the room visibly flinched at the use of the Dark Lord’s name. “A-and I’m not sure if it’s true but if it is-“

Remus shook his head, making a quick end to Evan’s insecurity. “Who, Evan? Who is it?”

Evan swallowed harshly.

“Peter Pettigrew”

Remus and James didn’t need anything more than a shared look before coming into action.

Chapter Text

Chapter 58: Peter Pettigrew

Peter Pettigrew had no motive.

He had no reason to do what he was doing.

There were no threats, no one was forcing him. He wasn’t held under a spell or being bribed.

No.

Peter Pettigrew was just a coward.

And he knew. He knew how much of a coward he was. It kept him going, it kept him from spilling his secrets.

Peter was smart. Smarter than most people knew. Everything he did, every move he made— it was calculated. He never handled on instinct, always with a clear plan. No step was taken without careful consideration.

Yes, he was once a Marauder. Wormtail, a proud member of their friend group. But was he? Or was he just James’ therapist? Was he their friend, or was he just there so Sirius had someone to make fun of.

Peter didn’t think of it like that until the Dark Lord first approached him. It had been a rainy night, alone in his apartment. He was told by Moody not to open the door for anyone, that who must not be named was surveilling and it would only be a matter of time before he started taking them down one by one.

He didn’t listen.

Peter opened the door that night. Listened to what the Dark Lord had to say, was left in shock of everything he hadn’t realized in his past.

His friends never saw his full potential. The Dark Lord did. Ever since then, he’d been with them.

A spy in the Order, how utterly tragic.

And it had been going well. Peter was the Dark Lord’s number one on every occasion. Hidden from the other Death Eaters, he made for some very good intel.

Like the prophecy.

Who else but Peter could’ve told the Dark Lord where Lily and James Potter lived?

After telling him this, he was promised it all. Protection, safety, a free pass from the war. But someone had to go and ruin it. Someone had told them to hide, to leave and find a new safehouse.

They didn’t tell anyone else, they just disappeared.

Remus didn’t know, the girls didn’t know. Only Moody, Dumbledore and stupid Sirius Black. They didn’t even know why or how they knew, they just had to watch them leave.

The Dark Lord had been furious with him, and told him to take down whoever this ‘spy’ was they were obviously dealing with. Either that, or someone let it slip.

Peter thought it was a dead end.

Until one day, he saw a presumably dead Regulus Black wander around Remus and Sirius’ old apartment.

As stated before: Peter Pettigrew was quite intelligent. Besides that, he was also privileged with a very tiny animal as his animagus form. The majestic rat. An animal people either didn’t look twice at or ran from.

He’d been spying on the apartment for a while, because he suspected the ‘spy’ to be Sirius. It fitted him perfectly, and he was the only one who got to know their safe location. The Order constantly pulled moves like those, without letting the other members into it. More ears meant more snitches. Sirius secretly spying on the Dark Lord disguised as a Death Eater was no stretch from that.

But, when Peter saw Regulus, he knew.

Peter knew back at Hogwarts that James and Regulus were… whatever. He liked being in his animagus form back then as well. Less people noticed him like that, fewer people looked at him.

Regulus was a Death Eater. Peter wasn’t sure if he still was, but he knew he definitely used to be. He was the Dark Lord’s right hand at any occasion, his most trusted follower after tragically went missing and had to be replaced by Dolohov. It would make sense for Black to know about the prophecy in one way or another.

Knowing a Black’s nature, it was always love first, logic second. At least it was with Sirius, and Peter could only imagine Regulus must’ve rushed over to tell James about the prophecy when he found out.

Foolish little princeling. He just had to play hero.

Peter didn’t tell the Dark Lord immediately. He wanted to be sure, because telling the Dark Lord you ‘might just suspect something’ was not something anyone should try.

Until Peter was called into the mansion, where he found a frustrated Gideon Thorne sitting at the table.

They were looking for Evan Rosier. Not sure if he was alive, but actively wondering if his death actually happened.

Peter knew he was alive. Where there was one, there was always another with those. They had to be planning something, or already doing something, maybe even already finished something.

That’s when Peter told Thorne and the Dark Lord about Regulus Black walking around, alive.

There was a deal. Peter would find Rosier, Rosier would lead them to Black. Because for some fucking reason Regulus Black was impossible to trace.

Peter found Rosier easily. He had a distinct scent to him, one of hope and trust. Black hadn’t been with him, Crouch had been, but they wanted Rosier. For some reason, Peter didn’t ask. It was better not to know, the lack of knowledge meant safety.

He had thought that was it. Rosier had been delivered, the Dark Lord would handle Regulus Black, everything was out of his hands.

But it wasn’t. Evan Rosier was possibly the worst person to try and break. So loyal it was disgusting, he’d rather die than spill the smallest secrets. Stupid, so very stupid. Because he would’ve died, he really would’ve. If those bastards didn’t come and get him back.

Real Slytherin way to show friendship. That strong sense of loyalty, ambition, they were up to something. And Peter was immediately sure it was something big.

Chapter Text

Chapter 59: Angel

Grimmauld place was crowded.

Normally, meetings didn’t call for the entirety of the Order to be present. In most cases, meetings would be held with ten, maybe twelve members and they’d be scattered over the week.

It was late when Remus and James started sending out patronussus. Most of the members were pulled out of bed, clearly just woken up. Some others had been surveilling. Yet they all shared the same look on their faces.

Confusion.

Because what on earth would be important enough to call the entirety of the Order into office at the crack of dawn? The members were clearly aware it was bad, their confusion was mixed with worry, worry and dread.

Remus and James were there first. They’d talked, weighed out countless of options on how to bring this news, made a plan. There weren’t a lot of good options. There wasn’t any way to spill this that wouldn’t call for the three supposedly dead Slytherins to reveal themselves.

Regulus had agreed immediately. He knew that this would raise the stakes even higher, and possibly endanger the Order, but it was necessary. Yes, Remus and James could just forwardly tell the Order they assume there’s a spy in their midst. But when that spy was Peter Pettigrew?

No way. Peter Pettigrew was one of the founders, one of the Marauders, one of the really really good guys. All his friends were in the order. And Remus and James? They had no proof. Well they did, but their proof was the very thing they were reluctant to show.

Barty hadn’t agreed. Not because of some selfish reason including him and his pride, or his hate towards most of the members of the Order… no scratch that: all of them.

Barty didn’t want to do it because of Evan.

Evan, who was finally able to keep his eyes open for more than an hour without shutting down completely. They had rescued him from the dungeon a mere forty-eight hours ago, and now they already wanted him to get out of the bed and risk his life. He couldn’t comprehend why Regulus was agreeing to this.

Barty worried about what the Order might do. Him and Regulus were only missing, and presumed dead. Evan was actually supposed to be dead. He imprinted that memory in Moody’s brain, took his eye, and almost killed him. Moody wasn’t a man who took such things lightly. He was one of the only Order members who actually killed when necessary.

But Barty’s worry over Evan was ruled out by Evan’s lack of worry over himself. He was fine with it, he’d said.

Barty didn’t buy it.

Evan hadn’t stopped shaking in his sleep, every time he fell asleep which was basically every two hours. Really, he timed it. Barty refused to believe Evan was fine with facing the enemy only a day after getting back from the dungeon.

But Evan kept convincing him. He’d seen bad things in the dungeon, things he wasn’t ready to talk about yet, but things that set his mind on what was right; defeating the dark Lord. And the Dark Lord wasn’t going to be defeated when one of the biggest groups fighting them were compromised by a spy. The Dark Lord would only continue destroying lives if the very people fighting him were murdered because the three friends were too afraid to show themselves.

They got themselves into this mess, they decided to go off the radar, they had to deal with the consequences.

Which is how they ended up in Regulus’ old bedroom at Grimmauld place as they listened to the people slowly filling up the hallway downstairs. They could hear everything that was said, knew who was entering when they were. Almost all of them were there, almost all the members.

And as much as the three liked to believe they were on the same side, they couldn’t help but feel like they were in the lion's den. As if they would be murdered like antilopes in a savannah the second they stepped out of that room. And who knew if they wouldn’t? They all had wands, they all knew the spell. Just two words and a medium capability to aim and they would be gone.

Evan was sitting on Regulus’ bed, holding himself upright by a tight grip on the edge of it. He was dressed in normal clothes again, first time in weeks he wore a normal sweater that wasn’t ripped to shreds.

Regulus was pacing in front of the door, listening to the voices downstairs. Not saying it out loud, but clearly waiting to hear Sirius’ voice through the others. Sirius had that kind of voice, unique and penetrating. Their parents would often complain about how loud he could sound, even when whispering.

Barty stood next to the bed, leaning against the wall with his hands behind his back. His eyes hadn’t left Evan once, not for a second. He couldn’t help it. Everything about the way Evan looked made him feel guilty. The bruises and cuts around his jaw and eyebrows. The way his cheekbones popped out more than they used to, the way the sweater loosely hung his frame instead of hugging him as it should. They way his eyes were red, they were still red. Even though Evan hadn’t been crying, his eyes were red. And Barty wasn’t ready to believe they would permanently stay this way.

“Stop looking.” Evan whispered, slowly turning his head to look up at the brunette next to him.

Barty huffed. “When you look like you’re about to collapse any second?” He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Barty corrected, then let out a deep sigh. “This was a bad idea.”

“Shut it, Barty, we’ll be fine.” Regulus chimed in. “Just don’t try to kill anyone.”

A scoff left Barty’s throat. “I’ll make no such promises.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but let it be, he had other things on his mind, like that he had to say to Sirius. He’d thought it out a bit on the way there, but there wasn’t enough time. There wouldn’t be enough time in the world for him to find a way to explain himself.

There was one way that came to mind that would at least not be a lie and also wouldn’t make him sound like a complete ass. But he hadn’t talked to Evan or Barty about it yet and he wasn’t sure if they would ever agree, so he kept it as a last resort.

Evan was now looking at Barty as Barty stared at the ground, clearly trying to keep it together.

“Barty.” Evan started, Barty looked him in the eyes. “We’ll be fine.”

Barty bit his lip.

“I promise.” Evan went on, then softly smiled. “Angel.”

Angel.

The word kept ringing through his ears, sending shockwaves through his brain and ridding him of any useful thoughts.

He sighed. “I believe you.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 60: The Order of the Phoenix

Sirius stormed into Grimmauld Place like a hurricane passing over the Pacific.

“Okay, what on earth are we doing here?” Sirius asked as he leaned to Remus with an angry look on his face. His finger was pointed at his chest in an accusatory manner as his eyes spat fire into Remus’

Remus took a step back. “Calm down Sirius, we’re all here, I’ll explain in a second.” He said, calmly.

Sirius huffed, “You’re telling me to calm down? Really?” He frowned. “There’s a war going on and I wake up alone from a patronus entering the room with James’ voice. Do you have any idea where my mind went?”

Remus put both his hands on Sirius’ shoulder. “I’m not dead.”

“I can see that!”

“Pads, please calm down.” James hissed, taking a step closer to the couple he’d been watching. “I know, this is weird, but we’re just as confused as you are so wait a minute and then we’ll tell you.”

Sirius let his eye roll between the two, wondering what on earth could’ve happened that did include them but not him. And also wondering;

Where the hell was Peter? Everyone else had arrived, he’d been the last because he spent an extra half hour looking around the safe house for Remus who was apparently in on whatever it was that was going on.

But then he had no choice but to stay calm when Dumbledore, accompanied by Moody on one side and Kingsley on the other, joined the conversation. The white bearded man who had clearly been asleep, or at least ready to get to sleep just an hour before, looked as tired as ever. He was wearing night robes- purple ones, which Sirius immediately found funny for no good reason. It wasn’t as if they’d never seen the professor like this before, Dumbledore never really cared about the way he looked in crisis, as long as it was averted quickly.

Kingsley looked just as confused as the remaining part of the Order which filled the small hallway of Grimmauld place twelve, but Kingsley preferred being just someone in the crowd. Attention drawn meant wands drawn, he often said.

Moody was more suspicious than ever. Since he got attacked by-- well, ironically, Evan Rosier, he had this wandering magic eye that could see through basically everything… including his own skull. If Moody wasn’t scary before he definitely was now. They started calling him Mad-Eye, which he -of course- only used as a self fulfilling prophecy.

“Mr Potter, Mr Lupin, Mr Black.” Dumbledore greeted them all with a nod, looking calm as ever. “I suspect we did not get summoned here to have a tea and talk strategy, am I wrong?”

James scratched the back of his neck, a kind of awkward look on his face. “I’m afraid not, professor.”

Dumbledore looked at him a beat, then turned to Remus. “Well then, everyone has arrived. Shall we start the meeting?”

“Wait, is Lily here?” Remus asked, turning to James.

James shook his head, quickly. “Didn’t seem very safe to get Harry out here.”

“Right.” Remus said, not blinking once as his gaze lingered on James. “You didn’t even send her a patronus.”

“I did.” James gritted through his teeth as he could see Remus catching on to the real reason Lily wasn’t there.

The truth was, James had sent Lily a patronus first thing. Only it didn’t say to join the meeting, it told her to stay safe, keep the doors closed and that he’d be home soon. James didn’t want to think about the reason he wasn’t inviting her, because let’s be honest: both their safe house and Grimmauld place weren’t safe anymore.

He knew that deep down he wasn’t ready yet to see Regulus and Lily in the same room without having the breakdown of the century. The only reason he hadn’t been buried six feet under by guilt was the fact that he could keep these two things in his life apart. The fact that at home, he was an Order member, a husband and a father. Maybe not that present, but he damn well tried everything he could to be the best father Harry could have. With Regulus, he felt like a rebel. He felt like the same sixteen year old that used to sneak him into the Gryffindor common room when everyone was asleep. He was young again, not yet buried by the stress of the war. Even when they were on that rescue mission, James felt nostalgic and glad to be there.

The second those two lives collapsed, James would too.

“She’s your wife, James.” Remus said- Merlin, James hadn’t heard Remus use his real name this often in years. He only did when he was mad, because that was ‘no time for friendly nicknames’.

“Not now, Remus.” James mimicked, nodding his head to the side, to Sirius, very slightly.

Sirius wasn’t even looking at them anymore. He’d started a conversation with Kinglsey in clear hopes of getting something out of him. Little did he know that no one in this room knew, or was even remotely prepared for what was going to happen.

Remus rolled his eyes, but let it go. It was time, everyone was there, they had to start- but how? How does one start a meeting like this one? ‘Dear friends and family, here’s three dead Slytherins who are going to tell you about a traitor’. No, they’d be dead within seconds.

James followed shut, leaving the biggest part of the crowd behind as they took a few steps up the stairs together, turning to the crowded hallway.

Remus put his wand against his throat. “Sonorus.”

Then:

“Alright!” His amplified voice echoed loudly through the hollow hallways.

Everyone turned to face him, immediately dropping their own conversations.

“We’re sorry to have woken you up at the crack of dawn.” Remus said, firstly- always the formal one, him. “But we have got something important to show you.”

A murmur of whispered rumbled up in the crowd. Soft spoken words, intrigued and yet again confused.

“Everyone, shut up please!” James yelled over them. His voice wasn’t amplified but he didn’t need any altering to get his voice where it needed to be.

Remus turned to him with his eyebrows raised. “Alright then, thanks James.”

James nodded.

“I’m going to request you all something that may sound weird but please, do as we say.” Remus went on, taking his want out of his pocket. “These things? Keep them in your robes and don’t try anything until they’re done explaining themselves.”

“They?” Marlene asked over the crowd, head tilted.

James took the few more steps up to Regulus’ bedroom as Remus told the crowd once more to calm down and stay in their lanes. He opened the door, immediately hitting Regulus with it.

“Sorry, sorry.” He whispered, waving his hands in front of him. “It’s time.”

Regulus rubbed his shoulder where the door had clipped him, glaring. “You’re an idiot.”

James gave a half-smile- too nervous for anything else. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. Come on.”

Barty didn’t move an inch, he just glared from Evan to James with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“This is it? The grand reveal?” He asked flatly, mimicking quotation marks with his fingers.

“Yeah.” James muttered, raking his hand through his hair. “Try not to look like you’re about to hex the whole room.”

Barty scoffed, rolled his eyes but eventually pushed himself off the wall. “Evan should stay here.”

“No.” Evan said before anyone else could answer. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I do when-”

“Look, guys, there’s a room full of people waiting downstairs and I can hear them getting impatient.” James interrupted the bickering pair. It was true, the voices downstairs had gotten significantly louder after Remus was done speaking to them.

Barty groaned. “Fuck, okay then, come one.”

Evan still couldn’t walk properly. He’d gotten as far as limping with some support on his side, but he definitely couldn’t do it on his own yet. Evan hated being dependent. He hadn’t depended on anyone since he was ten, and now he had to all of a sudden.

So, when Barty offered up his shoulder, Evan reluctantly had to take the help.

Regulus straightened his robes, ignoring the way his chest felt too tight, ignoring the voices spilling up the staircase. He hated this house. He hated being here. But he wasn’t going to falter now. Not in front of Sirius. Not in front of any of them.

James opened the door wide, gesturing for them to follow.

The noises from the hallways slowly dimmed as people started to notice the sound of footsteps trailing down again. Moody’s loud voice echoed over everyone else's one last time before a complete silence fell over them like a thick suffocating blanket.

Every eye turned as Regulus stepped down from the shadows of the upstairs landing next to his old bedroom. His hair was longer than most remembered, almost as long as Sirius’ hair was at the start of the war. His face was sharper, older, more tired. But it was unmistakably him, alive.

Half the Order gasped, some swore under their breaths, and despite Remus’ request-- wand were quickly drawn.

Regulus found himself immediately searching for Sirius’ eyes. He had to know his reaction, he had to see what he had done to him. Sirius was white as a ghost, and while not being very tan to begin with -Black’s genetics- this paleness could only be achieved by spotting a ghost. His eyes were slightly widened, his jaw clenched-- no, scratch that, every muscle in his body seemed to be clenched as he completely obliterated the cigarette packet in his hand.

Then came Evan, limping, holding onto the railing as he tried to get downstairs without too much grunting. He looked like a ghost dragged back to earth. To all of these people, he would’ve looked like that either way, but the injuries clearly pasted all over him didn’t help the stares.

He let his eyes dart over the crowd; scanning but never settling. He wasn’t sure how this was going to go-- if he was supposed to be the one who’d tell them one of their most trusted members- one of their most trusted friends, was the reason their missions kept failing, the reason people kept dying. He couldn’t look them in the eye. Not while he knew what he knew.

The silence deepened, Regulus and Sirius didn’t dare to look away from each other.

Barty followed closely. He didn’t look like a ghost, not even a little bit. He looked as he always had, he looked like trouble dressed in the body of a twenty year old man. His gaze swept through the crowd like a challenge, daring anyone to actually use their raised wands on him or any of them for that matter.

Whispers erupted. Shocked, furious, a lot of emotions.

Moody’s magical eye spun so rapidly it made a buzzing sound. “Bloody hell.” He barked. “What kind of game is this?”

Barty’s eyes snapped towards him, his body shielding Evan’s like it was a kind of second nature to do so. Then he scoffed out a laugh. “Wow, that eye is badass.”

The hallway erupted.

Shouts, accusations, wands half-drawn--heat and fury cramped into the small space ready to explode. Everyone wanted answers, demanded them. Kingsley shouted over Dorcas-- Dorcas over Marlene, and she over Frank Longbottom who had been quiet so far.

“Traitors in the house!” “Those are enemies!” “They’re dead!” “Sick joke!”

Despite the low volume of his voice, Sirius seemed to be the one who was actually heard through all the angry voices and screams.

“This is a joke.” He spoke, low, but his voice carried. The room quieted a fraction. “It’s polyjuice- a trick, a trap. Tell me I’m wrong professor.”

Dumbledore, who had been quietly standing in the corner, didn’t respond. He just watched, his hands intertwined together in front of him.

“It’s real, Sirius.” Regulus’s voice slid into the noise, everyone was now focussed on their conversation.

Regulus wanted to say so many things. He wanted to tell Sirius everything that had happened to him the past four years they hadn’t seen each other. He wanted to know how Sirius’ life had been, how he was doing, what the war had taken from him. He wanted to talk to his brother all night, just like they did when they were little. He wanted to talk about their parents, and how they died, and what that did to them because he hadn’t allowed himself to even think about his mother’s death without having Sirius by his side.

He never, ever thought that he’d once again face Sirius and that it wouldn’t be on opposite sides of the war but on the same.

But exactly that was why he couldn't talk to Sirius yet. To these people, Evan, Barty and Regulus were still Death Eaters. Still three villains standing in their safe house, breaking into their lives like they were old friends who just came to say hi. They had to explain themselves first, hope for the Order to believe them- believe some of it, at least. And then, hopefully, he could talk to Sirius.

“Would anyone please tell us why the fuck these three ghosts are standing in our house?!” Mary interrupted the painful silence between the two brothers, saying what everyone had been thinking since the reveal.

James scraped his throat. “They’ve discovered something and have decided to help us.”

Again, whispers erupted, though more quietly.

“Help us?” Frank scoffed, crossing his arms. “There’s no way.”

“It does seem highly unlikely, James.” Marlene added, suspicion still clear in her eyes.

“Well it’s true.” Remus responded before James could even open his mouth. “They’ve got information we desperately need. So whether you like it or not, you will have to listen to them and please not kill them.”

No one responded. No one even knew how to respond to that.

Then Barty took another step forward, and on the other side, wands were readied faster than anyone could think. The brunette rolled his eyes. “Look, people, we could’ve stayed hidden but we chose to come here.” He said, watching over the crowd carefully. He wasn’t letting his guard down for one second- if anyone tried anything, his wand would be at their throat in the blink of an eye. Or his dagger (which he had kept after the rescue mission).

“Exactly.” Regulus added. “If we were still Death Eaters we’d be turning ourselves in right now.”

Arthur Weasley scoffed from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. “You’re trying to convince us you’re not Death Eaters anymore?”

Shut came echoing through the hallway once more.

“Bullshit!” “This is crazy!” “Liars!”

“Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.” Mary stated.

Evan, the actual ghost in the room, decided it was time to speak up. He wanted to take a step down, only he forgot that he physically couldn't do that on his own. Luckily, Barty was already there to catch him. It really was like second nature.

“Careful.” Barty whispered into his ear, voice low, warning. His arm left his waist the second Evan grabbed onto the railing again.

The blonde scraped his throat. “Death Eaters or not.” He started, sounding less loud than he wanted to but his voice wasn’t really there yet. Nonetheless, everyone was silent the second they saw him stepping down. “There’s still something you need to know.”

“Spit it out then.” Emmeline Vance said, venomously.

“Watch it.” Barty warned, eyes burning into the woman’s skin like a Death warning.

“Please, Mr. Rosier, tell us.” Dumbledore finally spoke up.

Evan locked eyes with his old headmaster. He always seemed like such a kind man, to everyone, not just to people who earned his kindness. Evan’s only interactions with the man back at school were ones where he was being punished, yet he never once disliked him for it.

“There’s a traitor in the Order.” Evan spoke, finally. “A spy.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 61: Different

All hell broke down after Evan finally told them why they were there. People started yelling at them, none of it was even slightly understandable because of the sheer amount of people going full rigid on them.

Dumbledore didn’t do anything, he stood there, staring at Evan. Something in his gaze told Evan he already knew, and that he also knew damn well who it was. It made the blonde a bit angry to see that, he wasn’t sure what their whole arrangement or way of work was at the Order but he was sure this wasn’t a secret that should’ve been kept.

Accusations were thrown, of course no one believed them at first until-

“It’s Peter Pettigrew.”

And then everyone silenced again. A few people choked on their breaths, others just stopped talking; some even laughed a bit. It wasn’t the reaction they had expected, but then they also didn’t know what they had to expect.

James and Remus knew this reaction would come. It’s what happened to them as well. Peter Pettigrew, a spy? You mean the small guy who never really spoke a word when a room had more than three people in it? The guy whose animagus was a rat?

That was simply not possible.

“You’re making a joke, right?” Marlene, one of the people who had laughed, asked. She was eyeing Evan with a kind of hate behind her eyes that made him feel uneasy.

Before any of the three could speak, James did.

“I didn’t believe it either at first, but I think it’s true.” He said, eyes drifting over the crowd. He wasn’t sure how to feel, because every word he spoke made him feel some sort of traitor, made everyone look at him like he was just that.

“Think about it.” Remus added, hovering next to James. “Missions keep failing, people keep dying, there was no logical explanation for He Who Must not be Named to know our every move. Now we know what happened, what keeps happening.”

“Yeah, a spy seems like a logical explanation.” Kingsley said, his voice low and collected. “But why Pettigrew? He doesn’t seem…”

“Qualified?” Barty asked, eyebrows raised, earning himself a shrug and a nod from Kingsley. “Isn’t that exactly why he would be perfect for the job?”

Then, faster than a bullet, the realisation started to hit. What if it was true? What if their long time friend, Order member, trusted ally, was actually working with the side they were so eagerly trying to stop?

What would this mean for them?

---

Sirius stopped listening after the name got dropped.

He didn’t seem to understand what exactly was happening. Why everyone around him was screaming and yelling stuff when all he could do was beg to wake up from this weird nightmare.

Sirius had been on edge for weeks. And being on edge meant more for Sirius than it did for a lot of other people. For Sirius, being on edge meant not a slight inconvenience would push him over. No, he was stronger than that. Growing up with a mother like his, he was always on edge but never broke down.

He didn’t know how breaking down felt.

He’d come close to it a couple times before. The time his mother used the Cruciatus curse on him. The time Remus almost died in a fight, the time he thought his brother was dead. But it never actually got to a point where he shut down completely.

But this wasn’t just one thing coming at a man who had been leaning over the edge for a long time. It started at the beginning of the night, when he was awoken by a patronus carrying James’ voice and message to meet him at Grimmauld place. Even in war, this was unusual, especially for James who often enjoyed nights at home with Harry.

Then the startling revelation of Remus mission from his usual spot on the bed really shook him awake. He’d quickly looked through their safe house to see if maybe Remus was having a smoke out on the porch but he could already feel that Remus wasn’t there.

Now, he and Remus had been slowly drifting away from each other for a few weeks. Sirius was occupied with his missing brother, and the fact that James was acting very strangely. Remus seemed more interested in the wall half the time, often zoning out when he was supposed to be listening. Sirius never thought he was hiding something, he didn’t think Remus ever would hide anything from him.

But apparently he did.

After Sirius assumed the worst and rushed over to Grimmauld place, where he was met with an entirely fine looking Remus Lupin. That was the first time he let himself wonder if maybe, just maybe, Remus was indeed hiding something from him.

Then Remus got on the stairs, and Sirius knew. He was hiding something. He had been hiding something for weeks. And Sirius really wanted to know what it was so he was very much listening to his full capacity.

He didn’t know what he expected. Just that he didn’t expect it to be his brother.

Regulus.

Oh, Regulus.

He looked so different, so changed. Nothing like his little brother. His hair was too long, his features too sharp. He’d definitely gotten taller.

And then Regulus spoke. His voice deeper than before, his words carried more weight than they ever had before.

Sirius was already cognitively overloaded by seeing his brother in this context. Because what do you mean the man he’s been mourning for months is suddenly standing among the Order, talking to them.

Of course he was skeptical.

Chances were huge Regulus and his little gang of Death Eaters planned this whole thing just to set them up, to get close to them, to take them down from the inside.

But when Evan Rosier told them Peter Pettigrew is a spy? He didn’t have to think about it anymore. Because he knew it was true. It made so much sense.

After realizing this, his mind turned back on, his ears regained their sense of hearing.

The hallway was half empty. Voices were turned down, just barely a wave of faint whispers blowing through the hollow room. Sirius didn’t know how long he’d been standing there by himself, pressed against the wall with his eyes burning into the stair his brother was standing on.

It had to have been a while, at least. Regulus wasn’t on the stairs anymore, and neither were Rosier nor Crouch. Some people had drifted off to the sitting room, others had gone home.

Sirius turned to look around, Remus was standing beside him, a soft look on his face. Soften than in the weeks before, more present. Remus didn’t speak, he just opened his arms. Sirius took the invitation without much thinking- without realizing he was actually quite mad with his boyfriend.

He let himself lean into the warmth for a few seconds before he came to his senses and pushed Remus away.

“What the fuck, Moony?” He asked. There wasn’t more to say, just what the fuck.

Remus took in a deep breath, then sighed loudly. “I know, I’m sorry. But Sirius-”

“Where is he?” Sirius interrupted him. “Where’s my brother?”

“I-”

“He didn’t leave again did he?” Sirius asked, more eagerly, more aggressively. “You didn’t let him leave again, right?”

“Pads-”

“Right?!”

Remus fell quiet for a few seconds as he leaned back from Sirius who had already backed him up against the wall. “He’s in his old room.” Remus said, carefully. “But think about this first, alright? This isn’t just about you two it’s about-”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about anything else right now, Remus. I’m going to see my brother.” Sirius said as he stormed off to the stairs.

Remus could only hope he wouldn’t go and kill Regulus.

Chapter Text

Chapter 62: Deep Seeded Regret

Sirius couldn’t get himself to actually enter the room.

He really wanted to hear Regulus out. He wanted to know what was going on, what had been going on and where he had been the past year. He had to have been up to something, otherwise faking his own death would’ve just been plain cruel.

He was definitely planning to scream at him for a bit, maybe throw a curse. He was going to make sure his little brother would know exactly how he had made him feel.

But when his hand grazed over the doorknob, it hit him.

If he did all this, all those things. Scream, curse, hurt him -- he would be just like his mother.

So, instead, he walked further up the stairs. He skipped Regulus’ old room as he had done for the past year of his life. The room that held so much pain yet so many memories of home. The one place Sirius and Regulus could ever be brother and nothing else.

Sirius knocked on the door of the room James and Lily once slept in. He knew that only Lily actually slept in that room but Sirius never wanted to put James on the spot by asking him too straight forwardly what was going on in their marriage. It wasn’t his place, and definitely not the right time.

He heard James hum from behind the door, so he entered. Sirius would never be able to understand why, but James had never been a hard person to confront. James was always so easily approachable. That’s why Sirius often felt afraid he would overstep his boundaries. James always answered everything honestly.

James -sitting slouched down on the bed- flinched like a traumatized puppy when he watched Sirius enter. Sirius didn’t really understand why. He wasn’t angry with him, he was angry with Regulus… and a bit with Remus. But not James.

“Pads-” He cut himself off. His voice seemed full, emotional, as if there was more going on inside him than regret.

Sirius sat down beside him, then let himself fall down on his back, the soft matress would make this conversation way more comfortable. James watched him move, confused and a bit afraid Sirius might’ve gone mad.

Then Sirius sighed.

“How long have you known?” He asked, looking up at the ceiling. The room hadn’t bene cleaned for a while so the old strips of wood looked like they’d been scattered with Hogwarts’ Halloween decorations.

James blinked. Once, twice.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care.” Sirius replied, calmly.

So, maybe he had gone mad.

James stared for another beat. Then,

“Three months.”

Sirius bit the inside of his cheek. Thinking about that.

“Huh.” He responded. Still not angry, still not sad- if anything he was being way too neutral.

“I wanted to tell you.” James said. He had, really, been wanting to.

“You didn’t”

James looked away.

“I didn’t.”

Then it fell quiet. One minute, then five minutes. James felt uncomfortable under the pressure. He felt like he had to come up with a lie to protect Regulus but at the same time he knew that if Sirius asked him, he couldn’t get a lie past his lips. Hell, probably not even up his throat.

The old clock on the wall ticked like there was no tomorrow. The metronomical sound of his clashed with the fast beating of his heart, which was definitely pounding harder than the seconds. Remus would definitely be able to hear the sound of it even downstairs in the sitting room.

Sirius sat up after maybe ten minutes. He looked at James.

“Are you not telling me something?”

James choked on his breath. This was the question he’d been expecting. It was the question that haunted him. It was the question he didn’t have an answer to that would please both of them.

But, like before, James couldn’t lie to Sirius. Not now. When they were younger, he could. When he was first dating Regulus, he could. But back then he could talk himself into lying. Because it would be better that way. Of course it wasn’t, but they were young, and James knew he would lose Regulus the minute Sirius found out.

He and Regulus weren’t anything now. James was married, Regulus was a Death Eater. Even though he’d been claiming to have left that life behind

“Yes.” James nodded, his eyes dancing around Sirius’ as if looking into them would mean the end of the world as they knew it.

Sirius nodded as well, slowly, thinking. “Okay.” He said, then tilted his head. “You don’t have to tell me.”

James groaned. “Fuck, Sirius, but I want to.”

“Then don’t.” Sirius said, quickly. “Not right now.”

“You’ll hate me.” James said, burying his head in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You’ll never want to see me again if I tell you.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I don’t want to lose you too, Sirius.” His eyes were starting to well.

Sirius sat up, rubbed James’ shoulder. James leaned into it, so Sirius wrapped his arms around him.

Then James’ tears started to pour. Because he knew Sirius didn’t answer that for a reason.

---

“We have to come up with some kind of strategy.” Mary said. The whole Order, plus their new additions -and minus Sirius and James- were gathered around the big dining table.

It had taken the whole group a few seconds to get used to the idea of working together with who was once the enemy, but all of them quickly realized that if there was even the slightest chance these guys were telling the truth, they had to handle accordingly.

Somewhere in all the madness, Evan had suggested they use veritaserum on the three of them if they wanted to make sure they were telling the truth. Just offering that made Dumbledore jump in, telling the Order that wouldn’t be necessary and to leave if they didn’t feel comfortable working with the three Slytherins.

”I say we approach him and ask him straight forward,” Marelene suggested. “He’d been our friend for a long time, I’m sure he’d tell us the truth if we asked.”

Barty scoffed, looking up at the blonde with a judgy look in his eyes. “Yes, absolutely.” He said, sarcastically. “And then after, let's ask him to share all of the Dark Lord's plans and secrets with us. And while we’re at it, let’s dive into his love life as well.”

“Barty, shut up.” Regulus ordered through gritted teeth.

It bothered him that both James and Sirius weren’t with them, discussing this. What bothered him even more was the fact that Sirius hadn’t come to see him yet. They had so much to talk about, so much to catch up on. Regulus never expected Sirius to run up to him with open arms and embrace him like a real brother, but he had hoped his brother would at least come and yell at him for a bit. He wasn’t sure why it hurt that he didn’t.

And aside from those thoughts flooding his mind, Barty was clearly having a hard time being nice to the people of the Order. Of course, Barty always had trouble being nice but the lengths he was going through to be mean and snarky about everything the Order members said were getting beyond annoying.

Then there was Evan, who clearly wasn’t doing well with all these people around and just seemed anxious the whole time. He had stuffed himself away into a corner where he was sitting like a dead body ready to collapse in on itself any second. Barty kept glancing at him, but Evan only had eyes for the carpet on the floor.

”Okay, Crouch, for someone who just barely made it onto the trust list, you talk a lot.” Marlene straightened herself, looking at Barty with venom spilling out her eyes.

“It’s a bad idea, that’s all I’m saying.” Barty stuck up both hands as an act of innocence.

Marlene gave him a final nasty look before pulling back from the table.

They all discussed their possibilities and options for a while, throwing back and forth insults every now and then. None of the ideas seemed very useful, they didn’t know how to handle a situation like this one. They all knew how to fight, how to restore the peace, how to throw a curse.

It wasn’t until about half an hour into discussing when James and Sirius emerged into the room.

The room fell quiet when they did. Not because they walked in loudly or because they interrupted. But because the tension that fell over the room was so noticeable it was suffocating. Everyone had expected the first reveal to be the start of a fight between the Black brothers, but they had been awfully quiet and civil -mostly because they hadn’t really spoken with one another-.

The air was thick, the sounds were minimal. Just breathing and the occasional shuffle of feet.

Regulus felt bad as he looked up at the two men who walked in. He felt guilty. But not because of anything going on between him and his brother- he didn’t feel guilty for doing what he thought was right. No, Regulus felt bad because of the look on the face of the man between his brother. Because why did James look like he cried? He felt guilty because he could only assume it was because of him.

“Well? Bring us up to speed?” Sirius spoke, interrupting the quiet staring. He seemed as on edge as the tension allowed.

Everyone kept quiet.

Only Dumbledore spoke up, his long bony finger sticking up like a father lecturing his son. “There are wounds that fester in silence, my dear boys. You may find that speaking of what has passed -however difficult- is the first step toward easing its hold on you.”

Regulus’ eyes drifted off of James -who was avoiding his gaze with all his might- and to his brother. Sirius was looking at the floor, an unbothered look on his face.

“You are brothers still, whether you wish it or not. And there are truths between brothers that demand to be spoken, lest they haunt you both.”

Then Dumbledore, very slowly, walked out of the room.

And that’s when Sirius looked at Regulus. The first time in a year-- nay, four years, they shared a look that showed equal understanding. Regulus could feel it, and he was sure Sirius could as well. Dumbledore was right, they had to talk about it.

Kingsley cleared his throat, then clasped his hands together. “So! I think that concludes today’s meeting. Let’s everybody be back here tomorrow at nine.”