𝟎𝟏 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

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Speech in italics - Sign language

Pain was never something Regulus Black could easily describe

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Pain was never something Regulus Black could easily describe. As a young boy, he would tell you it felt like the day his mother shouted at him for falling over in the garden and ruining his smartest pair of slacks. Walburga merely sneered, leaving him trembling in the kitchen to tell off Kreature for not dusting the piano. Sirius — his older brother — was the one to clean the blood from his knees, with a ratty piece of cloth and old bottle of alcohol.

As a teenager, Regulus would tell you it felt like the day Voldemort recruited him as a Death Eater. Neither his parents or the Dark Lord caring that he was only sixteen years old and simply calling him a coward for sobbing on the ground the entire time. Regulus apparated to the Rosier's the very next day, pleading his best friend to run while he still could.

But as an adult, Regulus would tell you it felt like today. The day the noble House of Black crumbled.

Regulus Black sat, cradling his crying daughter in his arms, whilst whispering words of comfort in her ear. Though it seemed an impossible task. His own tears, which rose like a swell in the sea, only panicked little Elsie further. "It's okay, no one will hurt you," he whispered quietly, voice hoarse and weak. "Nothing will ever happen to you, I promise."

But no matter what he said, nothing could distract him nor Elsie from the screams outside.

Evelyn Black writhed on the ground, only a door away, enduring the Cruciatus curse from Lord Voldemort himself. It had been going on for a while now and each second seemed slower than the last. Regulus could hear her thrash sporadically and desperately plead for help, but all he could do was hide — feeling guilt ridden and sick.

No matter how much the youngest Black brother knew of the inevitable future, it still came as a shock. Regulus's heart dropped the moment silence fell over the house; Evelyn's wails of pain ceasing and the floorboards no longer creaking under her weight. His wife had become nothing more than the air they breathed and whilst a part of him thanked Merlin for putting her out of her misery, a more selfish part wished it never stopped.

The one year old blabbed, "mama?" Her steel grey eyes looking into his expectantly. Regulus was never good at deciphering Elsie's mess of words, but he knew exactly what she was asking.

His stomach swirled with nausea as he forced back a heartbroken sob. "She's not here, sweetheart," he replied. Regulus didn't even bother to sugar coat his words because its sweetness could never counteract the bitterness her death brought him.

He watched Elsie's eyes widen but Regulus knew she didn't understand what he was saying. His face grew stoic and cold. Ever since he was little, his mother always reminded him to remain posed and proper. That showing any emotion other than arrogance meant he was weak. And Regulus Arcturus Black wouldn't be weak, especially now.

Elsie cried harder, but it couldn't be heard over the frenzy in Regulus's mind. How would he raise a child on his own? Give her the life Evelyn would've brought? He couldn't do this, not when Elsie clung to him like a lifeline. It was clear the girl was traumatised and required support Regulus wasn't sure he could provide.

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