Spare. REGULUS BLACK

chapter eight

chapter eight, the chain that binds

" the chain keeps us together. "
the chain - fleetwood mac

🧩

Finding a time to speak to Regulus Black alone seemed to be a great feat. He was never alone. He was either at Quidditch practice with his entire team, in class with a classroom full of peers, in the Great Hall eating with Evan, or Barty, or Pandora, or just plain unfindable. It was beyond annoying. How was Veronika supposed to speak to her future husband about the fact that he was a minion for a supremely dark, very bad wizard when he was never alone?

They weren't to go on rounds together again until Saturday, but that was a week away and Veronika was known to be many things, but patient was not one of them. Not to mention, on Saturday she and Regulus were to meet with their mothers at Madam Pudifoots. Veronika's standing date with her own mother had just so happened to fall on the very day that Walburga had requested her and Regulus's presence, so they had mashed it all together. A big, happy meeting. Veronika was overjoyed. (See: She was not overjoyed. At all.) To sum up: Veronika and Regulus would not be alone again until after the meeting with their mothers, and for whatever reason she didn't much like that.

She wished to speak with the boy before. What if he told her that he had been one of the ones murdering innocents on the streets of Muggle London for mere fun? She had read in The Daily Prophet that an entire family, including a young babe and two cats had been senselessly slaughtered simply because a young witch from a good family had married a Muggle man. Had Regulus thought that okay to do? Had Regulus been there? Had he pointed his wand in the cherub face of a baby and said the words that killed it?

Poor Veronika didn't know what to think. She knew that killing people - innocent people whose only crime was being born - was beyond wrong. But she also knew that she was a pureblood witch. She was better than those who weren't. She'd been told that her entire life. She had quite literally been bred and born for her bloodline to continue on. She thought that Muggle-born witches and wizards ought to stay in their lane, but she didn't think that murder was going to solve anything.

On Monday, two days after learning about Regulus's affiliation with the Dark Lord, Veronika awoke with an unnaturally peppy disposition and the want to take the day by the horns (or whatever the saying was). She had once read that a good Monday meant a good week, and by the taste of her tea, the sun shining high above (no clouds in sight!), and the smile on her face, Veronika Breton assumed that she was in for nothing less than an abnormally fantastic day.

She did her hair in her signature blowout, even going as far to spend the extra time on her bangs to ensure their stylish state. She painted her face with her most expensive and high quality products, spritzed her favorite vanilla-scented perfume on her wrists and neck, and smiled prettily at her reflection in her vanity mirror.

Yes, she thought as she stood and collected her belongings, today is going to go splendidly.

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For the most part, the day did go splendidly for miss Veronika Breton. Barty was absent in Potions that morning, all of the papers she had completed the week prior were awarded good marks, and overall Veronika was just in a good mood. By the time lunch time rolled around she was quite literally humming a happy little tune as she walked to the Great Hall. She was starving, and was really hoping that something delicious would await her in the Hall.

When she entered the Hall, however, it wasn't the something delicious that awaited her that caught her attention, it was the stares. Open-mouthed, wide-eyed, and just plain rude, staring faces laser focused in on the girl the second her foot crossed the threshold.