Apocalypse ⟢ Regulus Black

Chapter 38 - Fade into You

Warning: this chapter may contain some mature content <3

December 24th, 1978

Christmas, they said—spend it with your loved ones.

Avery Greengrass was nothing if not loyal to tradition, even if she had to bend a few rules to honor it. And this year, she was determined to spend the Christmas holidays exactly as the saying advised.

After weeks of subtle persuasion, expertly placed concern, and a little emotional blackmail, she had somehow convinced Regulus to stay at her home over the holiday break. Ostensibly, they were to work together on uncovering more of Voldemort’s secrets—an effort that demanded time, privacy, and clever secrecy. She had even helped him craft the perfect excuse for his mother: vague whispers of demanding Death Eater business, something that required discretion and, most importantly, several days away from Grimmauld Place. Walburga Black hadn’t questioned it. If anything, she’d looked proud.

Avery knew it was dangerous—harboring Regulus like this while he’s working behind Voldemort's back pretending he was just a loyal little soldier. But the risk only made it feel more urgent, more real. And somewhere in the quiet of her mind, she admitted to herself that it wasn’t just about the mission. Not really. She wanted Regulus here. Wanted the late-night whispers in front of the fire, the rare moments he let the exhaustion crack through his perfect composure, the way his gaze softened when he thought she wasn’t looking.

The snow outside hadn’t stopped falling for hours, blanketing the world in silence. Inside the Greengrasses’ manor, everything felt warmer—safer. The kind of safety that didn’t come from wards or charms, but from being tucked away from everything that haunted them outside those walls.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a golden glow across the grand sitting room. Dark velvet drapes were pulled tight against the chill, and the scent of cloves and orange peel lingered in the air from Melissa’s earlier tea. A stack of aged parchment and brittle files sat on the coffee table, guarded by Avery’s mother like they were sacred artifacts.

Regulus sat upright on the edge of an armchair, hands folded neatly in his lap. His usual elegance was intact, but Avery could see the faint crease between his brows—his tells were always subtle. 

Melissa sipped from her teacup, eyes flitting between the two of them before she finally spoke.

“I hope you two realize what you’re asking of me,” she says evenly, placing her cup down with a deliberate clink. “Finding magical birth registries from the 1920s is one thing. But cross-referencing them with Muggle orphanage records?” She raised a brow at her daughter. “That’s two worlds of bureaucracy and concealment. And I had to get very creative.”

Avery leaned forward, her expression earnest. “And you did it. You wouldn’t be sitting here if you hadn’t found something.”

Melissa didn’t smile. But she didn’t deny it either. She slid the folder across the table. Regulus leaned forward instinctively, but stopped short—waiting for Avery to open it instead. She did, her fingers suddenly shaky.