Smile When You Dive In

Chapter 33

The Christmas holidays came around much faster than Regulus had hoped. It didn't feel as though months had passed since the summer, and Regulus had to wonder what he had done with that time. Had he really spent the first half of the school year sulking about James Potter dumping him? If he thought carefully about the past few months, he could pull together memories. He had pretended not to know how to apparate when talks of the lessons in the village began. Germana had carried off countless letters for him, and his mother had sent three in return. When Carmen went on a date with Aubrey Selwyn, he kept a very irritated Willa company. Putting all of those small things together, his year so far seemed about as eventful as any other year in his life, bar one. He supposed it was just the comparison that made it feel that way, and he hoped that it wasn't something that would last forever. If he was doomed to feel eternally bored after one moment of bliss, he'd have rather not experienced it in the first place.

Christmas of 1977 was just like any other spent at home. His parents refused to put aside business for the muggle holiday, which left Regulus to follow Kreacher around and listen to the elf rant about being made to clean out Sirius' room. It wasn't a topic Regulus particularly wanted to hear about, but he missed the elf when he was away and Sirius had always been horrible to him. He supposed his brother had earned more than a few insults. If he had decided to leave Kreacher alone with his bitterness, he wouldn't exactly be left with very many options. Conversations with his mother were brief and formal, and those with his father related solely to the business matters he was engaged in. Even with his sulking left in the summer, Regulus didn't find his father's work to be all that interesting.

It was in the few moments of peace, staring out at the snow-covered streets that Regulus' mind wandered to the two Gryffindor boys he tried so desperately not to think of. How different the atmosphere must have been in the Potters' house over Christmas. He didn't know if they celebrated it, but even without a holiday, he imagined the house to be filled with more cheer than Grimmauld Place had seen since the foundations were laid. Sirius no doubt fit in there easily, far more than he ever had at home. He'd seen enough of the Gryffindor common room to be able to picture the kind of home a pack of them would create, cosy rooms centred around warm hearths and doorways bustling with guests, always welcome. Would Lupin be there again? Knowing what he did now about Lupin and his brother, he thought that James' comments about keeping him distracted during the summer made a lot more sense. If things had worked out differently, would he be trying to find an excuse to go down there during these holidays too? It would certainly beat another Christmas at Grimmauld Place, no matter how guilty the thought made Regulus feel.

However, had Regulus still been carrying on with James and managed to spend those few days together over Christmas, he would have missed the one visitor he received at Grimmauld Place.

The material of his dark trousers rode up as he crossed his legs, so that the skin at his ankles was on show. Like his face, the skin there was translucent and Regulus could see the green veins snaking up his legs. He averted his gaze before the Dark Lord noticed him looking. It felt like a dream to have him there, the way that dreams would pick up people and places from life and stitch them together in ways that were convincing until sleep retreated, and he was left with only a vague recollection and the notion that it hadn't made complete sense, that the two parts ought to be disconnected.

Regulus' mother had been elated when Voldemort showed up on her doorstep with a smile and a request to speak with her youngest son. Regulus had been significantly less pleased when the man invited himself into his bedroom, feeling exposed as he looked around at all of his belongings, coming to Merlin-knows-what conclusions about him. While he sat on the wooden chair in the corner of the room, Regulus stood before him. He assumed that the man was there for some important and secret reason, and not on an unprecedented social call.

"I trust you've been having a restful break, Regulus?" He asked once he had absorbed everything there was to take in from the room and his attention turned to the boy himself. Unsure of how to answer the question, Regulus simply didn't. After all, could he consider his time to be restful if he had spent the majority of it ruminating on the way things could be better?

"I'm looking forward to being back at school," seemed a suitable answer. He didn't know how he expected the Dark Lord to react, but he hadn't expected a laugh.

"Yes, yes. Well, in the beginning, we wouldn't have gone home for the muggle holidays. As is the effect of having more muggleborn students, you see." Regulus nodded along.

"Do you see the problem?" Regulus wasn't sure that he did. If it were anybody else, he would have said yes regardless so as not to disappoint, but he knew that the Dark Lord would see the truth, so he answered honestly.

"I don't think so."

"No matter, let me explain. Witches and wizards with muggle blood hold less power, we've established this much," he paused to once again let Regulus nod, "and with less time in school, less control over said power. What will that mean for Wizarding Society in the long run, Regulus?"

"Less power." Regulus answered, though he phrased it more like a question. He was rewarded with a quirk of Voldemort's lips.

"Precisely, good boy. And a society with less power is more easily fractured, more easily conquered. Is that really what we want for our people, Regulus?"

"No." He didn't know if it was the praise, or the repeated use of his name, but there was something about conversing with the Dark Lord that made Regulus feel as though his tongue were weighted, heavy and difficult to move in his mouth. He could speak in only a few words and had to rely on the man to do all of the heavy lifting, which he in turn seemed only too happy to do. Again, he slathered on the praise. This time however, he stood, and put a hand on Regulus' shoulder gently, looking down at the boy.

"You have all the trappings of somebody important, Regulus. If we're going to do this, it has to start now."

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, the question on his mind since the Dark Lord's arrival. Voldemort's smile grew.

"In the summer, I recall we had a similar conversation. Then, you told me how eager you were to take the mark. To take your place. You've since turned sixteen, do you think that you're ready?" At the time, it didn't occur to Regulus that he hadn't ever told Voldemort that he wanted to take the mark. He was too occupied with the question, heart racing as he thought of it. Excitement or fear, he couldn't be sure, but with the Dark Lord standing inches away, hand on him, and in his bedroom no less, Regulus didn't have time to think. Instead, he did as he always did and told the man what he thought he wanted to hear.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Just like that, and it seemed all of the weight was lifted from the conversation. Voldemort was smiling in a way that seemed more sincere, grasping Regulus' shoulder in the same way his teammates did after a victory on the pitch. Regulus half expected him to draw his wand and give the mark to him right there and then. Apparently it took more coordinating than that. For a matter that seemed so urgent only moments ago, it would be months before Voldemort finally informed Regulus that the time was right, that he summoned him again. In the meantime, he would wonder how long Snape had known that he was going to take the mark, what he was missing at the meetings he wasn't invited to. He would try to keep it far from his mind and fail spectacularly.