Being a Greengrass after all should sound pretty serene.
But being a part of "the Emeralds" should not, especially when hearts become entangled with the infamous Regulus Black.
Goodness, lawfulness, or evilness. Which path will they tread in the ti...
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May 17th, 1981
Avery practically bounced up the front path, the lingering hum of magic still crackling under her skin. Rowle's training had been brutal, yes, but today she'd nailed three advanced counters in a row, and the rush of it still warmed her like a second heartbeat.
For once, she wasn't dragging herself home. She barely reached for the doorknob, already planning the celebratory cup of tea she fully intended to make, when—
"Avery!"
Her hand stilled mid-air and she turned. Regulus stood several yards away on the cobblestone path, just beyond the shimmering line where the Greengrass Manor's protections would stop him. He wasn't dressed like himself — no immaculate collar, no perfectly composed expression. His hair looked wind-disturbed, his coat unevenly buttoned as if he'd thrown it on in a hurry.
Avery narrowed her eyes. "Reg?"
He didn't step closer as he didn't dare test the wards.
"I need to talk to you," he said. His voice wasn't shaky, but it was stretched thin. "Please."
She stepped down from the stone stairs, stopping just inside the faint shimmer of the wardline.
"Is everything fine, love?" she asked quietly.
Regulus shook his head once—barely a movement, but enough. "No. It's not."
"What happened?" Avery asked, stepping a little closer and now crossing the line.
He swallowed, gaze flicking to the manor behind her as if checking for listening ears, then snapping back to her with a kind of desperate focus. "I just heard from Travers that they're going after Marlene McKinnon and her family."
Avery's breath stilled, caught somewhere between her ribs.
"I don't know exactly when," he pressed on, the words spilling out too fast, too tight. "But it's today. Travers said it like—like it was a casual assignment." His jaw flexed in anger or disgust, she couldn't tell. "He and Mulciber and... Bellatrix." His voice scraped thin on the name. "And Lucius. They're the ones assigned."
Regulus watched her face, bracing. "I came straight here the moment I heard. I didn't—" His breath shook, barely noticeable, but she caught it. "I couldn't just let it happen without telling you."
"Are you sure?" Avery whispered.
"Yes." His voice didn't waver this time.
Avery looked down at her watch. 7:47 p.m. And the sky was already ink-dark. Night meant the McKinnons' chances were shrinking by the minute.
"Fuck," she breathed, the panic surging through her bones. "Dorcas."
"I'll come with you," Regulus said immediately, stepping closer to the wardline without thinking.
