Rodolphus diverted the spell with a sharp flick of his wand, but the damage was done. It didn’t strike him. Instead, it found some poor soul somewhere to his left. It would take more than a scrawny boy as pitiful as Regulus to cause him injury. No, Rodolphus had both his eyes intact and they were trained on the traitor before him. He’d never showed Regulus much attention in the past. Bellatrix had always seen to it that the boy was given the proper training and Rodolphus had never deemed it necessary to step in. Her position within the Dark Lord’s ranks was as great as his. There wasn’t a witch or wizard who could have done a better job of it. And yet she had failed. Regulus had betrayed them all to the Order. He had sworn loyalty to the Dark Lord. He had taken his Mark. It was a wonder he’d lived to see another day, but tonight was different. Tonight, Regulus would receive information Bellatrix had clearly forgotten to impart; defy the Dark Lord and you will be shown no mercy.
“And who taught you that clever trick?” His voice was cold and mocking, but his eyes burned with loathing. A smirk played on his lips, though it was clinched with anger. Regulus Black was a traitor, a boy who deserved nothing more than to be flayed alive, and he had raised his wand against one of the Dark Lord’s most trusted soldiers. It was a wonder he had lived to see another day. He would not live to see another.
“Was it your beloved cousin?” he continued, delaying the inevitable. There was no mistaking Regulus’ reaction. He knew there was no possibility he would come out of this alive. Rodolphus wanted to savour the fear that was written in the boy’s actions. There was only one way this could end and Regulus knew it, but first, it was time for an adjustment.
“You would send me back to her blinded and ridiculed so that she could share in your fate?” These last words left his lips in a snarl. He and Bellatrix were one now, whether they liked it or not. She bore his name and if he, Rodolphus Lestrange, was overcome by a mere child (the mere thought of which almost made him laugh aloud), than she would have suffered the same dishonour as him.
The Order claimed they were better than this, better than attacking women and children and harming for the sheer sake of it. At least Death Eaters didn’t lie about their intentions, about their pleasures and what struck them as vile. They fought for a cause and they stood by that cause until the end. Rodolphus was sickened that he had ever served alongside Regulus. The thought that whatever child he and Bellatrix bore in the coming months would share the same blood as not only one but three traitors brought the taste of bile to his tongue. Regulus had intended to blind him, but that was a fate only the boy himself deserved.
His grasp on his wand was relaxed as he dropped his gaze to Regulus’ arm, the arm that bore the mark he didn’t deserve, His mark. He took two steps back as if for a moment he considered leaving the boy to his business, though it couldn’t be further from the truth. Then, quick as a flash, his grip tightened. “Sectumsempra,” he cried, slicing the air with his wand in a swift but precise line.
