fox - r.lupin

- c h a p t e r - f i f t y-t h r e e -

edited.

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Six months going on seven.

That was how long she had been working for Voldemort–most of that was while being a bearer of the Dark Mark.

At least–all this information had come from Regulus, and she didn't have to find out through someone else talking about dates and whatnot.

But it had been six months, and she was still nowhere close to knowing when Dumbledore would come and save her. She had sent letter after letter after letter with information–begging for responses and got nothing in return. It was like he was ignoring her–or his letters had been intercepted. But Violet doubted the former idea immediately after she thought about it.

The Hilton laid her head back onto her pillow, her mind spinning from fatigue.

She had been up late last night tracking down someone for the Dark Lord while also making sure Dumbledore knew about the ambush, attack, and probably attempted murder.

So–of course–she was exhausted.

She had nearly been asleep when a knock came to her door.

With an internal groan, Violet pulled herself from the mattress and moved to the door.

She found Regulus on the other side–a tray of food in his hands. She blinked in surprise as she waved him in.

He waited for her to close the door before speaking, "The Dark Lord is basically swooning over your work."

She cringed–making a face, "Gross."

"You can say that again."

"Gross."

He just huffed a laugh as he placed the tray on her bed–before looking back up at her with concerned eyes, "You look tired."

She almost cursed at him, but instead, she just sat up criss-cross apple sauce on the bed, picked up one of the pieces of toasts, and spread some marmalade over it before passing it to him–all in complete silence.

He raised his brows, staring at the piece of food in confusion.

She tilted her head at him, "You haven't been eating. Don't think I haven't noticed. I'm not stupid."

It was true.

Regulus was looking a little haggard over the past few weeks.

He always had dark circles under his eyes, and his clothes–usually pressed and primped to a tee–were wrinkled and hung off him as if he were a skeleton. At this point–he almost looked like a living skeleton with the deepening shadows and angles of his face.

Regulus took the piece of bread–and sat down across from her. He stared at it for a moment before biting into it. Violet made sure he ate the entire piece of toasts before passing him one of the two hard-boiled eggs and another piece of toasts.

By the time he was finished–he looked a little perkier, with fresh colour flooding into his normally pale cheeks. The colour looked almost odd on his now sunken face–but Violet was glad he had eaten.

"You feel better?" Violet asked him as he drank the last tea from the cup they had been passing back and forth.

He bobbed his head, "Much. Thank you."

She smiled softly at him, taking the cup from him, "Good. That was my goal."

Regulus hummed with a tiny smile, "It was met."