ᴏᴍɴɪꜱᴄɪᴇɴᴛ ✵ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ✵

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈

☾ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ☽

»»-------≪ °❈° ≫-------««

"Legilimens!"

Evan's mental shields may be stronger than Barty's, yet they still aren't a match against Regulus' power. It takes less than two minutes for his resistance to weaken, Regulus tears down a few walls and the rest fall like dominoes, effortlessly revealing the many layers of his mind.

Memory after memory flickers before both Regulus' and Evan's eyes; toddler versions of Evan and Pandora chase after each other in their manor's rosegarden... Echoes of their childlike laughter dwindle into a Christmas carol, and the scene shifts to the twins sitting nearby a colourful tree, fighting over a gift. Ultimately, Evan allows Pandora to win... and then, things get significantly darker.

No older than nine, Evan steps in front of his sister protectively, staring up at his father with widened sea-green eyes until a large palm smacks across his face so hard he sees stars... A girlish bedroom transpires, Evan sobs in Pandora's arms with a bloody nose and swollen black eye... Evan's eleven year old baby face, nonexistent now, lights up with his classic troublemaker grin that hasn't changed a bit. The sorting hat is barely removed from his head when he leaps off the stool, ecstatic to join Regulus and Barty at their table... The three of them laugh hysterically in their dorm room over a game of Exploding Snaps, a bond immediately created that'll last years from then on... Evan steals glimpses at Barty in third year Potions' class... Evan pleading with his father to stop the cruciatus curse, Regulus is quick to push this memory out of the way and move on to the next one, which isn't any less distressing: Evan receiving the dark mark, masking his horror... The drawing room of Malfoy Manor promptly reconstructs into their dorm room, and Barty is on top of Evan, leaning in—

"NO!"

Regulus feels himself being violently expelled from Evan's mind, so abrupt and harsh that he stumbles backwards in the Room of Requirement, nearly losing his footing. Evan collapses to his knees, releasing shallow gasps as he clutches at his temples. There's a sharp, blistering pain in Regulus' wrist, and he glances down to see a scorch mark.

"You lost control," Regulus acknowledges, keeping his voice calm and steady, simultaneously healing his wrist. Under the tip of his wand, scorched skin restores. "Repel me with your brain, Ev, not a second year stinging hex."

"Fuck you, Reg," Evan rasps while Barty, poorly hiding his clenched jaw, helps ease him back on his feet.

Regulus manages a small, wry smile that is a valiant effort to keep from falling due to the perpetual stab of anxiety in his gut. He's known, of course, of Evan's abusive father, but it doesn't make it any easier witnessing. Particularly the torture curse, a natural trigger for Regulus considering it was his mother's favourite form of punishment as well.

He clears his throat, straightening the clasp of his cloak. "You need to stay focused. Clear your mind, and let go of all emotion."

"Let go of my emotions?" Evan snarls, and oh, he's angry. That much is obvious by the rigid cords visible in his neck. Regulus can't blame him, though it seems the most delicate topic for Evan was his moment with Barty. "As if we're not here so you can avoid your anger at Monty."

"I'm not angry at Freya," Regulus counters placidly. He slips his wand into his sleeve, then shoves his hands into his front pockets and takes a step forward. "We'll pick this back up tomorrow night."

"How generous of you," snaps Barty, who still stands rather close to Evan. There's a gleam of protectiveness in his narrowed eyes that reminds Regulus so much of himself when it comes to Freya.