Smile When You Dive In

Chapter 38

By the time Regulus was finally called to another meeting, it was the start of June. If he remembered correctly, that would make it exactly a year since he had attended his first. It was strange to think about, because he felt as though it was still a very new thing in his life, something he had so many questions about. Yet at the same time, he could barely remember the time when he would wonder in the night what the Dark Lord looked like, if he was kind, whether he would like Regulus. When he dressed for the meeting, he chose his shirt carefully. Of course, it had to be one with long sleeves so that he could move through the castle without drawing unwanted attention, but he also wanted to pick out one that he could roll up easily enough, should the Dark Lord demand it.

Now that they were both able to apparate competently on their own, Lucius no longer met him and Snape at the boundaries of the Hogwarts wards. Instead, the Dark Lord would send an address the morning of a meeting, which they would be firmly instructed to memorise and burn. It was near impossible, Regulus knew, to apparate to somewhere that he hadn't been before, so the list of houses Voldemort considered safe had to be dwindling, or else he had tired of showing off. They didn't go together, he and Snape. It would be more suspicious for the two of them to be found sneaking off together than just one of them. He didn't even want to think about what people would assume about the two of them. Besides, since he had been communicating directly with the Dark Lord more, Regulus had thankfully found that his time spent with Lucius and Snape practically vanished.

The night began as any other, but wore on more slowly and at the time when he would have before been dismissed came and passed, and a strange excitement rose within Regulus. He was about to see what happened at the end of the meetings, the part that Snape had gone on about for months, telling him it was the most important part, that the Dark Lord would only allow in those that he trusted. That group now included Regulus, and he was eager to show the Dark Lord that he had not made a mistake in including him.

There was a long table, dark oak and probably older than Regulus was. Along it, two lines of chairs were set out with a taller, infinitely more grand chair at the very end. That was the Dark Lord's. Regulus hesitated as his peers took their seats, unsure of the etiquette. At family events, people were seated by age and proximity on the family tree to the host. That usually had Regulus somewhere in the middle, close enough to hear the interesting conversation but far enough out that he didn't need to contribute anything to it. Thankfully for him, Bellatrix clamped down her hand on his wrist and dragged him over to a seat by her side. Rodolphus was further down the table, he noticed, though didn't comment on it.

"Finally," The Dark Lord said after a long time of discussing boring pureblood business in a way that Regulus found very disappointing, "Bellatrix, tell us about your latest outing. Word of the mark got back to me." His tone was strange, chiding but obviously joking. He was teasing her, and next to Regulus, Bellatrix practically jumped from her seat, eager to perform.

"There were three of them, when we got there!" Bellatrix started, and Regulus wondered who they were. Aurors, perhaps? "The blood traitor sent her upstairs with the ickle baby, but what's the first thing we know about muggles, cousin?" She cut from her narration of events to turn to him. He choked slightly as he searched for the answer, not having expected to be called on.

"They can't do magic?" He offered.

"They can't do magic, exactly!" Bella shouted, and laughter erupted all around them. "Rodolphus went upstairs to pay mummy a visit while I stayed downstairs to play with daddy!" The laughter died down slightly, the others all clearly eager to hear the rest of her story. She was speaking very quickly, fingers pressed against the dark wood in front of Regulus. Her audience were enthralled, hanging on her every word. Regulus hated to admit that he was, too.