The Journal of Regulus Arcturus Black

Chapter 30. The Dark Mark

Trigger Warning: this entire chapter is a long torture scene

Dear Regulus,

Do you know a Parkinson? I've read your journal over and over again, I could practically quote some of your more heartbreaking and panic-induced accounts. But you hardly ever discussed your school like. I see familiar names like Rosier and even Crouch. You mentioned Snape only once in passing and how much you didn't like him.

I've read your accounts on Slughorn, how you practically grovelled at his feet to finally gain the information needed about the horcruxes. But I can't help but wonder more about you. Parkinson is not a Sacred 28 name, but it is the name of one of my best friends. She's called Pansy and one day, we were going to get married.

I think the offer is off the table now that I know I'm completely bent and Pansy will only ever look at me like a younger brother. I am older than her but she doesn't care too much.

She's a werewolf now, and I'm a little curious to find out if you'd hate her because she's annoying and outlandish, like your scathing remarks on Crouch. Which, in case you were wondering, turned out to grow from the shy and timid boy you wrote about. He imperiused the majority of our fourth year class, pretended to be Auror Alastor Moody and brought back You-Know-Who. Or whether you'd hate her because she's a creature and lower than even that of halfbloods.

Maybe you'd like her? You seem more sympathetic with creatures than any pureblood that I know. Kreacher seems to think so at least, he is always ready to share stories and sing your praises. So if you were ever afraid you would die with a shit legacy, know that you have Kreacher and he loves you very much. You also have me and even though I don't know you, I'll always be here to defend your honour... right behind Kreacher of course.

I'm stuck in your old bedroom for a little bit. Pansy's depressed. Theo thinks everyone's out to get him, but he's dramatic like that. Blaise is angry at everyone and I don't think being Lord Black is all that I initially thought it'd be. Merlin, when did I decide to grow up?

I could do with a few more years of childhood.

Your godson,

Draco Black.

***

Draco had only been in the dungeons of his Manor for a week, but he knew that there was no way he was going to get out of there without some sort of plan. He had initially thought that his parents would try everything in their power to help him escape or maybe get him out of the dungeons and lock him in his room.

No such luck.

He and Luna hadn't heard a word from his parents, if he didn't recognise the dungeons, he'd probably think he was somewhere else entirely. The old and croaky voice from before turned out to be none other than Garrick Ollivander from Diagon Alley. Draco had almost forgotten about his disappearance, but seeing him down and chained in the dungeons reminded him of the realness of their situation.

Without their wands, all three of the current prisoners tried their best to brainstorm up ideas on how to escape. Routinely, Wormtail would come to give them all dinner, consisting of sloppy porridge and boiled vegetables. Draco didn't eat much of the meal, not being able to stomach down another soggy carrot slice for the life of him.

Draco was bent on his knees, hands curling around in the air as he continued to whisper a lumos over and over again. There was a small ball of light that appeared, tinier than a flame that would stutter out a little bit of light, before dimming the rest of the occupants into darkness again. "I don't understand," Draco whispered. "It's lumos, it's one of the easiest spells!" he balled his hands into fists and punched the ground, hissing as the skin on his knuckles split open.