𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐍 | Regulus Black x Reader

XVI. Deja Vu

The excitement of performing the soul-tracking ritual wore off rather quickly when you realized that you had to draw out all of the runes since Anders was unable to crouch down. It was an extensive process and each character had to be extremely precise, causing your fingers to cramp up rather quickly.

Your feet were feeling fuzzy as the circulation in your legs started to suffer from your position, your knees cracking noisily with every shuffle you took to continue mapping out the ritual circle.

"I can't feel my legs anymore." You whined, upper body flopping down as you braced yourself with your palms.

Anders grunts from in front of you, "You're not even halfway there yet, and careful you almost smudged the Dagaz." His drawl has you huffing, head instinctually snapping to the side to make sure you didn't actually smear anything.

"Easy for you to say, you're sitting on a bloody stool while I'm hunched over, practically shining your boots!" Your exasperation was painted across your face, words spewing out in a mixture of annoyance and jest.

The man rolls his eyes and rubs a hand over his knee, the joint no doubt aching, "Careful loyal vassal of mine, I am graciously offering you my help after all," his tone of amusement melts away and he suddenly grows serious, "but it is imperative that we do this quickly."

You huff and adjust your position, swinging your head up to look at the man in curiosity, "Why's that?"

Anders' face is darkened with a grim frown, and he peers down at the papers on his laps, "You said that those buddies of yours were going to kill Tom, right?"

"Yes..." Your uncertain tone has you fidgeting with your wand habitually, eyes flickering between the window of the room and the man in front of you.

"Well he's puppeting the inferis with his magic, so they'll undoubtedly be reduced to husks once he's gone. So we need to hurry," Anders elucidates, mouth set into a firm line as he delved deeper into his thoughts.

Putting a hand up, you blink owlishly at the man, "This is too much information. So, not only are inferis still housing their original souls – but you're saying that it's Voldemort's magic that's tying these souls down to the land of the living?"

You didn't know whether you wanted to curse the detestable man into oblivion or begrudgingly allow yourself to be grateful that his existence meant Regulus' soul was still with you.

Well, he was chaining down hundreds of souls for his own selfish desires – so you were leaning towards wanting to stick your hand through his head.

"Only the inferis of his own creation, but yes, in theory." The man looks mildly impressed at your quick thinking.

"Would it be a bad idea to owl Harry and ask him to raincheck on his plans to eviscerate the Dark Lord?" You draw a hand to rub at your forehead, a newfound migraine blooming from the back of your neck and straining across your occiput.

Anders gives you an unimpressed eyebrow raise before waving his hand towards the abandoned quarter-circle behind you, "A terrible idea. Now, let's continue."

You finish drawing the ritual circle an hour after sunset.

Your hand was shaking uncontrollably, jerking with every cramp that tugged at your muscles. You had begun sweating at one point, causing Anders to limp over and slide both of the windows open. The cool air bristled through the room and circled around all the loose papers, the sounds of rustling and quiet cruising from the older man flowing around the atmosphere.

As you step back to survey your hard work, you can't help the smile that plays at your lips: the intricacies of the circle was alluring, practically glowing under the yellow light fixtures above you. The wind began to whistle, and Anders took that as a cue to interrupt your little reprieve, "Looks decent enough."