ARSONIST'S LULLABY ━━ r. black¹

𝖝. empty hands

彡 chapter ten
( empty hands )

HIS HANDS HAD developed a tremor from the insomnia, nightmares a plague that seemed to never end. Regulus felt like an outsider among the death eaters, foolish sycophants who gallivanted through the magical world like they owned it ( they did ), and he was an heir to a dynasty like all the others. Not all of the sacred 28 were loyal to the pureblood cause, but all of those who had been sorted into Slytherin house had been brought into the fold.

Every time Regulus closed his eyes he saw the face of young boy who he had been forced to murder as a punishment for falling in love with an outsider. Walburga had seen to it that he had been set straight, and locked him into an engagement. He had not yet placed the ugly silver ring encrusted with an emerald the size of a peach pit on her finger ( that would be this summer ), but Caroline Parkinson never failed in reminding Regulus Black that they were to be wed the summer after she finished her seventh year, especially when she was whining about how hard fifth year Potions was for her. It took a great deal of effort for Regulus to not throttle her sometimes.

She was not intellectually his equal, more concerned with gossip than the fact that she was on the verge of failing Charms during her O.W.L. year. She was a year younger than Regulus, and her maturity showed it. He missed Morgana's sparkle and wit in times like these, and Caroline's dull eyes staring at him instead of the Morgana's verdigris shade was like rubbing salt into a wound. She was proud that he was a Death Eater. Proud that he had killed that young boy.

Regulus was a boy wracked by guilt with no one to confide in. Romulus and Margot were busy trying to convince their parents to break off Margot's engagement. Regulus didn't want to burden them with his problems. He was smoking incessantly and had taken to drinking heavily, and if the alcohol didn't rot his liver he was sure that his resentment would kill him first. Bitter, angry, boy.

He could still hear the screaming, of both the boy and his mother, who had done nothing but be of inferior blood-status.

He was his mother's darling, always doing everything to please her. She had already faced crushing disappointment with Sirius, which had unhinged her already unstable mind.  He swallowed bitter regret like cyanide and resorted to being an imposter, her perfect, darling, boy who could do no wrong. He'd taken the mark to make her proud and stumbled through the fire-place holding back tears. Regulus rarely cried but at night when his mind was blurred by tequila he remembered the darkness encroaching into his life, the prodigal son destined to die an early death. 

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Caroline's wheedling voice sliced through his mind as he comprehended her presence. She was beautiful sure, dark curls falling in ringlets, taupe skin unblemished, cheeks always flushed pink. Her eyes were as dark as the night, flickering in the eerie green of the Slytherin common room. Her uniform was starched and clean, emeralds dangling from her ears, the shade matching her tie. "Go to bed Caroline," Regulus said softly, checking his watch. "I have to leave for prefect rounds."

"Can I tag along?"

"No," he said firmly, as Theodora Greengrass emerged from the sixth year girls dormitory, waving at him. Her blonde hair, cut fashionably short like all the French girls, was pulled back from her face with a black headband, and she batted her eyes at Regulus, dark, mascara-laden eyelashes fluttering as her mauve lips pouted. "Go to bed, Caroline," he repeated, hiding his grimace as she giggled and kissed his cheek.

"I'll see you later Reg."

Theodora's laughter was grating as Caroline swept past them into the girls hallway. "You go through girls fast, Black. Let's go, we have rounds."