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@lauraroleplayss
A multi muse roleplaying blog || Independent || Third person and somewhat selective || Penned by Laura || Mun is 35 years old so minors do not interact please! || central time zone || Established 2022 and revamped in 2025
Rules || Muses
//*slowly comes out of hibernation and dusts off this account*
Tagged ; open for anyone. I just want to try my hand at writing Anakin
Fandom ; Star Wars
Anakin couldn't sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his head in his hands as his dreams came back to him. Dreams of Padmé dying and he couldn't shake them off no matter how much he tried to. It felt like a cold hand gripped his heart. It gripped it tightly with the intention of never letting go. He already lost his mother to the Sand people. He had gotten his revenge by killing every single last one. Their cries for mercy still haunted him.
With a frusterated sigh, he rose from the bed he shared with Padmé. He hunted down his shirt. It was underneath Padmé's dress on the floor. Crumpled. He got dressed and grabbed his lightsaber before tiptoeing out of the room. He closed the door behind him carefully, not wanting to wake up Padmé.
"Hey Artoo." He greeted the droid softly as it followed him down the hall. R2 beeped questionly. Despite how tired he was, in both body and soul, he smirked. "Just couldn't sleep anymore buddy."
He tilted his head, hearing the soft sound of footsteps.
Who else was up at this hour?
Silence creeps amongst the dirt roads of Setauket, not a sound could be heard except for the occasional chirp from a cricket in the nearby tall grass, the winds were quiet, dancing through the trees and whispering in the air, it was a peaceful scene, one that most would kill for in these times of war, however, that wasn't the case for two particular people who stood in the back of the stables — specifically, Leah's stables, why were they in her stables? Even I'm not so sure as to why.
Here stood a man of stubborn nature, never willing to admit when he's wrong, and most importantly, never willing to give up on the past, such is the case now.
The man in reference, — Abraham, paces back and forth on the messy hay covered ground within the back of the stables, one hand on his hip while the other anxiously runs through his hair, his brow furrowed as he tried to come up with some form of explanation but was unable to do so. With a frustrated sigh, he places both hands on his hips and stops his pacing, now facing a particular Clydesdale who's name was Alejandro. Alejandro stared at him while Abraham stared back before groaning in exasperation before turning back towards Eloise.
"Okay, alright, I just–"
A pause. He takes a moment to think, pinching the bridge of his nose before he continues.
"I don't know! She's my ex-fiance, El, I saw her, and I guess I just – I don't know, I felt that familiar connection again!"
He sighs, shaking his head, a frown crossing his lips as his tone softens by a large amount.
"We haven't seen her in years, El.. She's been missing for God knows how long, and then I see her again, and I can't help but feel those same feelings I felt for her all those years ago.. and the fact that Caleb found her and knew she was around for a whole year – without telling me – hurts like Hell!"
-> @lauraroleplayss
Try as she might, Eloise couldn't help but to grin at the frusterated look on her friend's face. Her eyes shone brightly. She was visiting the small town of Setakuet in disguse. She was wearing one of her more every day dresses. The not so over the top ones. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a traveling cloak around her shoulders.
The grin soon faded as he spoke. Eloise sighed.
"Lea might had a reason Abe. She never even contacted me at all. You know how close we were. You know how she was more like my sister than anything else."
"When I do talk to Caleb, I'll make sure to lay it on thick." Eloise could be a very scary young woman when it called for it. She laid a hand on his shoulder. Her expression soft. "Maybe he can drag Lea here so we can all talk it over. Without shouting and causing more trouble." She added with a warning glance at him. Eloise knew Abe for a long time. She knew how he could be.
Abraham, now flustered at her accusation, stumbles over his words before he falls silent, his mouth opening and closing before he huffs in frustration, shifting his gaze to the side, looking anywhere but her before he lets out a long sigh of resignation, his shoulders dropping momentarily.
"That was one time, El. One. Time. And I had a good reason, too! I mean, who—"
He cuts himself off, hearing multiple pairs of footsteps heading their way, and without thinking, he pulls out his pocket knife, pointing it in the direction the footsteps were approaching from, his eyes narrowed. When one of the two figures comes into their line of sight, he pauses, furrowing his brow in uncertainty and mild confusion, keeping the dagger pointed at the figure, his hand shaking.
The figure stops, lifting their head before pulling the hood of their cloak off of their head. A woman, a very familiar, yet unfamiliar one at that. She wears a pair of black slacks and a white ruffled shirt, a black cloak over her shoulders, a pair of brown riding boots and brown suspenders. Her hair is an ash-blond, half tied up in a small bun, the rest of her hair was messy and down on her shoulders, a scar on the bridge of her nose and her eyes were that of a reddish-brown.
Upon seeing the pocket knife, she flinches and slowly raises her hands in surrender, her eyes darting back and forth between Abraham and Eloise. When she finally spoke after what felt like hours, her voice was shaken and hoarse, like she hadn't used it in God knows how long.
"I know you're angry but please don't stab me."
An elegant eyebrow was lifted as the young blonde woman stared him down. She folded her arms across her chest. Some might say that she looked a lot like her mother at that moment. Eloise inherited both of her parents personalities. Head strong and a very bad temper. Abraham should be very, very careful right now.
"Right." She drawled. "Just the one time? I seem to recall several incidents that happened at the Strong Inn-"
She, too, heard the footsteps. Multiple footsteps and she immediately reached for several sets of her knives that she carried in her pocket at all times. Especially when she had been out on her own missions.
Blue eyes holding a puzzled look, she glanced over at Abraham. She wondered who on earth it could be. Her gaze moved over to the figure on the horse, studying her with a small frown. She did look familiar. Like from a hazy memory.
And then she spoke.
"Leah?!" Eloise exclaims, almost dropping her knives. There was no way. No absolute way that it would even be her. It had been far too long!
@hauntedmystic
Well shit.
That was the first thought that crossed Regulus's mind the minute he got home. He looked....well. Not someone who had spent at least a few months locked up at St. Mungo's. That was in due part thanks to his family's wealth. And the fact that everyone thought the Black family was rather....mad.
His favorite house elf, Kreacher, had thrown himself at his feet, sobbing. Now the young man felt bad amd he knelt dowm to reassure the elf that, yes, he was fine. Yes, he had the locket and he planned to destroy it. He hadn't told anyone yet.
"Regulus? I thought you would be staying." Orion came up to him. Regulus smiles.
"I'll come back before dinner. I have to visit...someone."
He was hoping and praying that certain someone wouldn't murder him on sight.
"Be safe."
Regulus nodded and he walked out of the family home.
"Barty! Open up you prat!" The refined heir to the Black family shouted, banging on the door to his boyfriend's house. "Don't make me blast the door open you fool!"
With Barty upstairs, it was Winky the house elf who heard the noise at the front door. She ducked behind a couch; this wasn’t supposed to happen! Mr. Crouch had been very adamant about securing the house and keeping people away. Mr. Crouch never had company, so Winky didn’t know what to do about someone at the door.
She ran half way up the staircase before vanishing and reappearing in Barty’s room. “Winky hears a boy at the door! Ohh… Winky’s cooking dinner but now there’s a boy at the door!”
Barty blinked at her. “Then let him in. I’m the one who can’t be seen, not you.” He set his book aside and stepped out into the hallway.
He stood overlooking the lower level, but the imperious curse kept him from going downstairs when his father wasn’t home. He was late today.
There were many layers to the curse he lived under. Barty couldn’t go downstairs without permission, he couldn’t kill himself, he couldn’t use any magic whatsoever, &c. And he really hoped this whole nightmare would turn him into an obscurial so he could kill his dad!
Long term side effects of the curse included low blood pressure; he sunk down to recover from the dizziness that had hit him from standing up too quickly.
But he felt weaker when he recognized the voice at the door. He tried to call Winky, but the curse prevented him from speaking if someone else might have the chance to hear him. He rushed back into his room to tell her she should go open the door.
“Oh, no! Winky can’t!” She shook her head and held her face in her hands. She didn’t want Mr. Crouch to hurt her. She couldn’t disobey him no matter how much she wanted to obey Barty.
“Fine! Finish dinner then!” Barty demanded. She scampered back downstairs and into the kitchen.
When she was out of the way Barty returned to the landing balcony to toss some books across the parlor toward the front door in the hopes the odd clatter would inspire Regulus to force entry.
Regulus had given up after a few more minutes. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling under his breath in French. His eyes gleamed with a hint of madness. The locket, Salazar Slytherin's, rested on his neck. He had gone through literal hell and back for it to. He just hadn't told his family the truth.
He wasn't sure if Sirius, the pounce that he was, should know that he was going to try to defeat the Dark Lord. The mark rested on his arm. Just as it rested on Barty's.
He stopped, brow furrowing as he heard the clatter.
What in the world....
Regulus pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door, muttering a spell and the door burst open.
"Prat!" He greeted the seemingly empty hallway. "Barty come down here! I've returned!"
There has to be some way to push through the curse. There has to be! No spell is flawless! Yet this felt so HOPELESS. He was close achingly close to having a line of sight with Regulus, but not quite... He still tried and tried to speak when taking in more breath, but it wasn't possible.
If speaking directly to Regulus couldn't work... what if he framed it as speaking to Winky? Would he be able to find a work around the curse that way? If he wasn't allowed to speak to someone else that was one thing... But father had never prevented him from speaking to Winky.
Barty closed his eyes to try his idea. "Winky! I can't come downstairs to answer the door for you because of the imperius curse I've been under for ages now! WINKY. I'm STUCK UPSTAIRS when someone else is NEAR! I need you MY HOUSE ELF to break the curse! Only I know YOU WON'T because my father would KILL US BOTH if anyone were to HELP ME get the fuck OUT OF HERE."
Although his voice had been cracking into an odd tone, he hoped he might have gotten through the curse enough. Rubbing away his tears, he laughed bitterly when Winky appeared beside him in a terrible panic.
Wait....what?
Regulus's eyes narrowed at how....odd Barty seemed to be. Imperius Curse? What exactly happened during the time that he had spent in St. Mungo's for being 'crazy?' Salazar Slytherin's locket rest heavily on his chest. He swallowes hard. He knew Barty inside and out. He knew what riddle he had been given.
Now how to solve it?
Regulus tapped the end of his wand against his palm.
"I doubt your father could kill me." He drawled out. "Not unless he wants to evoke the wrath of the Black family." He chuckled darkly as he slowly started to climb the stairs. "Whatever do you mean you've been stuck under the curse? Barty what the fuck happened while I was away?" His magic swirled around him. While the Black family had a lot of dark magic, Regulus's was more of....grey with dark tendencies.
"What is needed to break the curse?" He demands of his boyfriend. His heart twisting.
Panic left Barty breathless as he expected his father to be home any moment now.
But Regulus was coming closer. He had to push through the fog enveloping his mind. This was his only chance. Regulus. Regulus…
He couldn’t forget that Regulus was here. Beautiful, brilliant Regulus was alive.
His face was wet with tears when Barty pulled his hands through his hair then began raking his nails over his arms. He needed to feel something. He needed to WAKE UP.
He kept scratching harder until blood broke through and he could feel something inside him coming into focus.
“Regulus…” His voice cracked with fatigue and emotion. It was so hard to trust anything about his reality—could he be certain Regulus wasn’t imagined? He desperately needed him to be real… but psychosis was better than this loneliness.
At the same time his mind was clearer than it had been for a while now. Barty returned to his feet, hand extended to a wall to support his approach. When his gaze landed on Regulus his thighs had never felt so weak. He was dizzy, but he managed to stay upright as his heart pounded.
“I thought… I thought you were dead.”
"Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated it seemed."
There was a small smile appearing on his lips. He stared down at his boyfriend. He wanted nothing better to do than to take him right then and there. To claim him and make him his again. Something stopped him from doing so.
"I told you not to do that." His gaze just happened to fall on his arms and he sighed. He pulled out his wand, healing them. He had always been a good healer.
He slowly reached out a cautious hand, gently sliding it in Barty's hand and gripped it. He gripped it tightly like a life line.
Winky pulled her ears as she stared at the scene unfolding before her eyes.
The Master Crouch would surely kill her now if he saw his son. Not to mention the fact that she had let this happen.
"I was at St. Mungo's. I have a tale for you but it can wait."
He leaned forward, pressing his lips up against Barty's own.
It felt like he was home.
[Close Prompt] Finally, the person in front of Barty moved out of the way, forward through the crowd. The space that opened gave Regulus the chance to slip in front of Barty, ass pressing back against him… Convenient, to blame the lack of space. Of course he’d be more comfortable closer to Barty than to any of the people around them.
Someone to his side passed him a joint. Normally Regulus had more sense than to accept anything from a random stranger, but tonight was not ordinary—it was a David Bowie concert. So of course he took a drag, turned to face Barty, and exhaled smoke over his lips and singing along to his favorite song off the 1971 album Hunky Dory, his smile wide and heart free.
“But the film is a saddening bore… for she’s lived it ten times or more…”
The concert was something that he needed. He had been looking forward to it all week. Hell he even took the next two days off from work to recover.
Chuckling at him, Barty wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. He couldn't deny there was...a simple pleasure to have him pressing up so close.
He watched Regulus. His heart thumping at the smile. At how carefree he seemed to be.
"Have I ever mentioned how much I love seeing you in this condition?" Barty told him. "So wild. Untamble."
There was no taming Regulus Black at all.
[ Necklace Prompt] “This is a very special antique,” Percival said lowly as he swept her hair over her shoulders, breath ghosting over her neck as he leaned in to clasp the silver chain, “That I believe will truly complete your ensemble for the New York Philharmonic tonight.”
The young red head woman shivered at his touch. Her breath hitching in her throat. She was still very unsure about tonight. People like her never went to these places. Percival had been getting her out of her comfort zone lately and she appreciated it.
She loved him for it.
"Oh Perce." Reila whispers as she turned around. Her hand on the necklace. Her eyes shinning bright. "I absolutely love it. I really do. You spoil me."
With that she gently pressed her lips up against his own.
Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad after all.
@hauntedmystic trimmed from here
Reila jumped up on the seat next to him. The bartender smirked as he poured out both of their drinks and handed it to them. She accepted hers with a thank you before looking over at the man.
He was rather attractive, she would have to admit that.
She hiked up her dress once she saw his gaze moving downward. A blush appeared on her cheeks. Normally, in her alter ego, she never minded the attention. But there was something about this man that interested her. She needed to find out more about him.
She nodded at his question. “I own this place, yes. The bar is also in the underground world. My world.” She turns to look at the people. Her people. Reila had worked hard to make sure that they were safe. That they had a place to go to.
She noted his English accent as she took a sip of her drink. She sat it on the counter and drummed her fingers afterwards.
“How long have you been here in the country?” She asked him. Reila was curious. She made a mental note to send out a few of her followers for more information. "May I ask your name if you don't mind? Since I have already given mine?"
@lauraroleplayss
"You should have shown him your Mark."
Regulus had never felt quite like this before. Losing her brother had come close. But this was unfathomable. Sure, they had always been aware her parents did not love Barty--but didn't Orion and Walburga understand Barty worshipped Regulus? That he would do anything in the world for her. How could they be so cruel when Barty loved her and his blood was pure? Why couldn't that be what mattered?
They had not expected them to be excited about it when Barty had asked Orion to marry Regulus. And they had not expected a firm and foreboding no.
"I'm certain if you had thought to show him your Mark..." It would impress her father, wouldn't it? He would understand his virtues were in line with their family's, not his horrid father.
She rubbed at her tears, shaking her head. These years spent adoring Barty wouldn't be wasted. She wouldn't love anyone else. Not ever. She couldn't. There had to be something they could do.
The heavens wept. As Regulus listened to the rain while sitting in her room with Barty, she gently raked her nails over his dark mark. The sadness felt inescapable. She couldn't forsake her family. Nor could she forsake Barty.
"I love you," she whispered in the safety of the darkness. That Orion hadn't demanded Barty leave was a relief. But what were they to do?
She wrapped her arms around Barty, melting against him and knowing there was no where else she would rather be than embracing him.
And then she realized what would change the answer.
"... Barty... we have to give them no choice but that we marry. For them to demand it."
Barty shook his head, frowning as he held his girlfriend close to him. He didn't want to scare his potential father in law with his Mark, even though he knew that the Black family were pro Voldemort supporters. It made the rejection even more surprising. He did want to storm into Orion's office and demanded to know why. Why he refused the offer.
"I don't want to do that Reg." He tells her quietly. His chin on top of his head. His eyes half closed. "I know your family are big supporters of You-Know-Who. Especially your bat shi-I mean your wonderful mother." He commented. "I want to make sure Orion sees that my intentions are pure when it comes to you. That I don't see you as a prize to be claimed."
He sighs and bends down to kiss her neck. "I adore you Reggie. I love you to the ends of the earth. I would move the earth and moon for you, my beloved."
The rain continued to fall. He blinked and looked over at her. The Lady Black.
"How do you propose we do that then?" He mumbled against her skin. "If you really want me to show him the Mark....then I will."
It seemed to her that if Orion knew Barty was a Death Eater--inner circle despite his age, no less!-- he should be impressed... overjoyed that Regulus loved a man like that. Brave and virtuous, and her dad didn't even know.
But what if it wasn't enough? What if they still did not find him appropriate? ("They're so MIDDLE CLASS," she had heard Walburga complain more than once about Barty's parents... one of the least explicit things she had said about them.)
She languidly stroked through Barty's hair as she listened to him carefully. His words were a great comfort that his feelings, like hers for him, were unchanged.
Sharing the Mark could be a good start. But a more drastic idea was on her mind.
"If we... If I were pregnant... they would kill you if we didn't marry..."
His heart beat seemed to get louder with every word that she spoke. Barty looked down at her. His eyes unreadable as he wrapped his arms around her even tighter. It seemed like it took him forever to speak.
"Are you suggesting that we have sex in order to spite your parents my dear?" The former Slytherin asked while a huge grin spread across his lips. His eyes gleamed. "Merlin knows I won't be a fool and not outright deny you any type of pleasure."
Barty was a simp for Regulus.
"If we were to get pregnant, you would be right. Rather than face the fact that one of their grandchildren would be a bastard, they would demand that we get married. The Blacks are traditional and set in their own ways after all."
There was a wolfish grin on his face.
"I'd do absolutely anything to get back at them. But are you sure you're ready to become a mother?"
The Coruscant skyline shimmered beyond the windows, city lights glowing like distant stars against the night. The Senate apartment was quiet now, cloaked in a stillness that felt almost unnatural after the chaos of the day. Anakin stood just outside Padmé’s bedroom door, the golden lamplight casting sharp lines across his face, softening only when his eyes met hers. “I know the threat hasn’t passed, m'lady,” he said quietly, his voice lower now that the others were asleep. “But you’re safe tonight. Obi-Wan and I will be just outside. No one’s getting past us.” A slight smile tugged at his lips, a rare glimpse of the boy she used to know beneath the sharp edges of the man he was becoming. “You should try to rest. I won’t let anything happen to you.” There was a pause, the air between them heavier than before, charged with words left unspoken. @lauraroleplayss
There was a frown on her face as she turned to face him. He had grown up. She had told him as much earlier. She slowly sat up in her bed. Her hair hanging down from her shoulders in waves. While Padmé had appreciated Palpatine's suggestion in bringing some familiar faces back, she still didn't like the idea of being guarded twenty four seven right now. There was too much nervous energy running through her. She doubt she would get much sleep tonight.
"I don't doubt that Ani." She remarked to him tiredly. There seemed to be a new weight on her shoulders. "However I am worried about you. When was the last time you had gotten any sleep?" Trust Padmé for turning this around on him. "I want to be out there. Trying to find the one that had attempted to take my life.” There was a fire to her words now. Brown eyes landed on him. There it was. The spark. The pull that Padmé always felt whenever he was close.
//Ooc ;; guyss if any of you are into star wars I just made a Padmé account! @naboosrulingsenator
@lauraroleplayss
"You should have shown him your Mark."
Regulus had never felt quite like this before. Losing her brother had come close. But this was unfathomable. Sure, they had always been aware her parents did not love Barty--but didn't Orion and Walburga understand Barty worshipped Regulus? That he would do anything in the world for her. How could they be so cruel when Barty loved her and his blood was pure? Why couldn't that be what mattered?
They had not expected them to be excited about it when Barty had asked Orion to marry Regulus. And they had not expected a firm and foreboding no.
"I'm certain if you had thought to show him your Mark..." It would impress her father, wouldn't it? He would understand his virtues were in line with their family's, not his horrid father.
She rubbed at her tears, shaking her head. These years spent adoring Barty wouldn't be wasted. She wouldn't love anyone else. Not ever. She couldn't. There had to be something they could do.
The heavens wept. As Regulus listened to the rain while sitting in her room with Barty, she gently raked her nails over his dark mark. The sadness felt inescapable. She couldn't forsake her family. Nor could she forsake Barty.
"I love you," she whispered in the safety of the darkness. That Orion hadn't demanded Barty leave was a relief. But what were they to do?
She wrapped her arms around Barty, melting against him and knowing there was no where else she would rather be than embracing him.
And then she realized what would change the answer.
"... Barty... we have to give them no choice but that we marry. For them to demand it."
Barty shook his head, frowning as he held his girlfriend close to him. He didn't want to scare his potential father in law with his Mark, even though he knew that the Black family were pro Voldemort supporters. It made the rejection even more surprising. He did want to storm into Orion's office and demanded to know why. Why he refused the offer.
"I don't want to do that Reg." He tells her quietly. His chin on top of his head. His eyes half closed. "I know your family are big supporters of You-Know-Who. Especially your bat shi-I mean your wonderful mother." He commented. "I want to make sure Orion sees that my intentions are pure when it comes to you. That I don't see you as a prize to be claimed."
He sighs and bends down to kiss her neck. "I adore you Reggie. I love you to the ends of the earth. I would move the earth and moon for you, my beloved."
The rain continued to fall. He blinked and looked over at her. The Lady Black.
"How do you propose we do that then?" He mumbled against her skin. "If you really want me to show him the Mark....then I will."
@lauraroleplayss
Percival Graves’ disciplined demeanor did not translate well to being conducive to a fun, friendly gathering. Gellert was a good actor, but for maximum consistency it was best to stick with how he had already established Mr. Graves to behave; therefore, instead of going to the MACUSA Christmas party, he stopped in his secretary’s office on his way through to his own.
“Before our meeting I would appreciate if you bring me back a cookie when you go downstairs. And cheese and crackers if there’s any left.”
Mr. Graves was too mysterious and introverted to be seen eating in a crowd. It would just look silly. Or maybe Gellert was projecting too much onto him; the fact of the matter was he didn’t want to eat there instead of quietly in his office.
“The gingerbread.” he clarified. “Obviously.” With a wandless spell he opened a glass bottle of Coke.
Reila looked up from her paperwork the minute her boss entered. Brown eyes puzzled as they landed on him but she straightened instantly.
"Of course Mister Graves. Might I suggest some of the ham as well? So you can at least have a type of meat?" While it wasn't crossing the line, Reila often looked after her boss, making sure that he eats food. Real food.
At the mention of the meeting, the young red head nodded. "Are there any notes that you want me to prepare? Or look at?"
She managed to hide a smile. "Ginger bread cookies it is then. I'll make sure to bring a dozen just for you then."
Reila watches him for a while. Finally she took a deep breath.
"What about the notes on the....on the underground?" She was hesitant on asking but she wanted to be one step ahead of her boss.
After all, she ruled the underground with an iron fist. And even managed to keep her two lives seperate for now.
“Mm.” He acknowledged her desire to bring him other food, vaguely without commitment either way because he may eat some real food if given it but he wasn’t prioritizing it over cheese. Thank god for cheese.
“I do prefer notes to accompany our discussions.” Percival said as he peeled off his coat. “I accumulate a large quantity of information every day. It helps me keep track of it when I have something to refer back to when I’m thinking about it at a later date.”
He unlocked his office door but kept it open so Reila could still hear him when he left her sight. “I have updates to share with you on the Grindelwald situation. More specifically, where we’re at in my travel ban legislation and what I need you to help me with.”
Trying, and failing badly, Reila could not hide a smile as she watches her boss.
"Well, lucky for all of us involved, I can easily spell my quill to write down the notes while paying attention to you and the other senior Aurors." Reila had been working under Percival for almost three years. Half had been in the office environment. She had been paired with him on missions a few times and it always took her breath away when she watched him duel.
"Are we doing any practice dueling?" Reila asked now. "We haven't done that since your trip to Europe. I must admit I am a tad bit rusty as I've been confined to the office." Here she made a face. It wasn't her fault that she had been severely injuired during a mission. She blamed it soley on the two hulking dark wizards.
The young woman nodded seriously. "The travel ban that you had been working on the past year sir? I think I have the notes somewhere around here."
She idly tapped her finger on the desk with a nod. "You have us working around the clock on the Grindelwald case. Not that I don't blame you." On cue her stomach rumbled and she blushed.
"Actually I'll go down and grab us some snacks from the party. If you'll excuse me sir."
She soon returned. A small box floated to the side of her and she gently laid it on top of his desk.
"I took a lot of Gingerbread cookies. There are some ham and fruits."
Her box was similar to his but there was a cheesecake in hers. Her favorite.
"Sure." he said before she left. As he waited he sat at his typewriter to produce an assortment of replies to other department heads.
"I did not ask for this many." Percival said when Reila returned with the food. He would take them home though. Lifting his dark gaze to her, he added, "Thank you." And everything else he could need was in his box too. “None could say you don’t take care of me.” A hand landed on her arm before he lifted it away to take one of his cookies. He would need this first for dueling energy.
“I expect the travel ban legislature to go through without an issue because people are well aware by now of the threats of Grindelwald’s influence spreading. I would like you to review the documents for any printing or grammatical errors. I’ve looked over it too many times over too many days. I would never spot anything wrong in it now.”
The young woman lifted an eyebrow at him. She gave him one of her very best severe looks. The look she perfected throughout the years. It was also one of the few things that calmed her most rowdy followers in the mafia world.
She did blush at the compliment. "I always take care of you. Must I remind you that before your mission to Europe, I had often found you slumped over your desk with candy wrappers all over." Reila told him. Her hands on her hips. "Besides, it's my job to take care of you, Mister Graves. If it was up to me, I'll be taking care of you at home-"
"Forgive me sir." Reila apologized to him. "That...that was uncalled for. I apologized." Her blush deepend when he laid his hand on her arm. Her heart beat quickened. She had done well, hiding her crush on him. On a man that is older than her and had some grey in his hair.
Reila looked thoughtful. "I have read it several times. Do you think that he would come here? We all hear the rumors of how he doesn't dare touch Britain because of Professor Dumbledore. I doubt that there would even be anything of interest for him to come here."
"If he does, I'll be on his list." Reila continues on, unaware of just who she was talking to. "Just because I'm a muggleborn orphan."
She took a deep breath as she picked up her own cookie, staring at it with a frown.
Percival regarded her... well... gravely, only because he couldn't smile at the discussion of Grindelwald. He folded his hands under his chin as he watched her, wishing he could clarify to her how misunderstood Grindelwald was. And as if he feared Dumbledore? That was just ridiculous.
But Percival Graves had no evidence otherwise to dispute it.
"I don't think the possibility of him coming here should be ignored. We do have a strange history here when it comes to the way we've interacted with the nomaj. For example, it isn't illegal in Britain, or a good portion of Europe, to intermarry. So, no, despite what Madame President believes and pushes, I do not suggest operating under the assumption Grindelwald would have no interest in bringing his propaganda here. She wants to keep people from panicking; I can understand that. But I don't think ignorance will protect anyone more than temporarily. It's why I've been so adamant on the travel ban and I've been more directly involved with the passports. But... well, what if he is a master of transfiguration and can forge any documents he needs to support a different persona? Then he really could be anywhere. And in any place of authority."
Reila's eyes narrowed at those words. She wasn't particularly...well fond of no-majs due to her experiences growing up. She could still hear the Matron screaming that she was possessed and she would end up in hell.
"I have heard how things are different in Britain. I'm not really...fond of them." She shrugged her shoulders. "I grew up in a no-maj orphange where they were convinced I was possessed due to my accidental magic breaking away. Stopped trying to get adopted by age nine." She paused and turned bright pink. "Sorry for the unneeded ramblings."
That thought made her uncomfortable. She looked up at her boss, a cookie half in and half out of her mouth. She broke it in half and started chewing on it.
"Now that would be a scary thought. Should we start questioning our own authorities when they come in for work sir?"
A chill went through her. She needed to protect her underground. Thank Merlin Grindelwald didn't have any interest in it.
Or so she thought.
“I think it’s something worth considering.”
—
At the end of the work day, Percival wished Reila good night, before her departure he took the time to compliment her work.
After he shifted into Gellert in a secluded corner of the nearest department store, he was very careful to be perfectly unremarkable as he made his way to the speakeasy. He had dressed down from his Percival Graves aesthetic, yet he was still a graceful vision of class. He was confident in glamour magic as well as confident he wouldn’t attract any attention; after all, no one in America would recognize him. Not as he had looked in the 1890s.
The club had not hit its peak crowd of the night yet, but music had begun to decorate time nonetheless. Gellert watched the pianist for a moment; after applauding between numbers he made his way to the bar.
“Death in the Afternoon, please.” the lovely blond boy ordered after noticing they had restocked the absinthe.
"Good night Mister Graves." Reila retuned his wish with one of her own.
----------------------
She was in the throne room, as she called it, in the club. She looked interested at the muggle weapons from a bust they had managed to pull off. It helped that her guards were a mix of muggleborns, halfbloods, and shockingly enough purebloods. They had to teach the purebloods how the muggle weapons worked.
"Excellent work tonight ladies and gentlemen." Reila tells them as she picked out a few weapons of her own. "You can divide the share amongst you all. It's time for me to make my appearence."
"Amazing how you managed to stay hidden these years majesty." One of her guards commented. Reila's lips twitched.
"It's all thanks to glamour magic and working like crazy to make sure that everyone here is safe. Even if it means betraying my fellow Aurors and boss. Now, go. Scatter yourselves amongst the club."
She stood and walked out of the room. A sigh escaped from her lips. A weary look on her face as she shifted to a young woman. Black hair covered in feathers. A flapper dress in place of her robes. One that was very low cut. Layla took over her.
The young woman surveyed her domain before she walked over to sit next to Grindelwald.
"I'll have what he's having. Make it a double." She commented, turning to the dark wizard with a grin. "Never seen you around here. I'm Layla. The ruler around these parts."
Her alter ego was also wanted by Aurors.
@lauraroleplayss
Percival Graves’ disciplined demeanor did not translate well to being conducive to a fun, friendly gathering. Gellert was a good actor, but for maximum consistency it was best to stick with how he had already established Mr. Graves to behave; therefore, instead of going to the MACUSA Christmas party, he stopped in his secretary’s office on his way through to his own.
“Before our meeting I would appreciate if you bring me back a cookie when you go downstairs. And cheese and crackers if there’s any left.”
Mr. Graves was too mysterious and introverted to be seen eating in a crowd. It would just look silly. Or maybe Gellert was projecting too much onto him; the fact of the matter was he didn’t want to eat there instead of quietly in his office.
“The gingerbread.” he clarified. “Obviously.” With a wandless spell he opened a glass bottle of Coke.
Reila looked up from her paperwork the minute her boss entered. Brown eyes puzzled as they landed on him but she straightened instantly.
"Of course Mister Graves. Might I suggest some of the ham as well? So you can at least have a type of meat?" While it wasn't crossing the line, Reila often looked after her boss, making sure that he eats food. Real food.
At the mention of the meeting, the young red head nodded. "Are there any notes that you want me to prepare? Or look at?"
She managed to hide a smile. "Ginger bread cookies it is then. I'll make sure to bring a dozen just for you then."
Reila watches him for a while. Finally she took a deep breath.
"What about the notes on the....on the underground?" She was hesitant on asking but she wanted to be one step ahead of her boss.
After all, she ruled the underground with an iron fist. And even managed to keep her two lives seperate for now.
“Mm.” He acknowledged her desire to bring him other food, vaguely without commitment either way because he may eat some real food if given it but he wasn’t prioritizing it over cheese. Thank god for cheese.
“I do prefer notes to accompany our discussions.” Percival said as he peeled off his coat. “I accumulate a large quantity of information every day. It helps me keep track of it when I have something to refer back to when I’m thinking about it at a later date.”
He unlocked his office door but kept it open so Reila could still hear him when he left her sight. “I have updates to share with you on the Grindelwald situation. More specifically, where we’re at in my travel ban legislation and what I need you to help me with.”
Trying, and failing badly, Reila could not hide a smile as she watches her boss.
"Well, lucky for all of us involved, I can easily spell my quill to write down the notes while paying attention to you and the other senior Aurors." Reila had been working under Percival for almost three years. Half had been in the office environment. She had been paired with him on missions a few times and it always took her breath away when she watched him duel.
"Are we doing any practice dueling?" Reila asked now. "We haven't done that since your trip to Europe. I must admit I am a tad bit rusty as I've been confined to the office." Here she made a face. It wasn't her fault that she had been severely injuired during a mission. She blamed it soley on the two hulking dark wizards.
The young woman nodded seriously. "The travel ban that you had been working on the past year sir? I think I have the notes somewhere around here."
She idly tapped her finger on the desk with a nod. "You have us working around the clock on the Grindelwald case. Not that I don't blame you." On cue her stomach rumbled and she blushed.
"Actually I'll go down and grab us some snacks from the party. If you'll excuse me sir."
She soon returned. A small box floated to the side of her and she gently laid it on top of his desk.
"I took a lot of Gingerbread cookies. There are some ham and fruits."
Her box was similar to his but there was a cheesecake in hers. Her favorite.
"Sure." he said before she left. As he waited he sat at his typewriter to produce an assortment of replies to other department heads.
"I did not ask for this many." Percival said when Reila returned with the food. He would take them home though. Lifting his dark gaze to her, he added, "Thank you." And everything else he could need was in his box too. “None could say you don’t take care of me.” A hand landed on her arm before he lifted it away to take one of his cookies. He would need this first for dueling energy.
“I expect the travel ban legislature to go through without an issue because people are well aware by now of the threats of Grindelwald’s influence spreading. I would like you to review the documents for any printing or grammatical errors. I’ve looked over it too many times over too many days. I would never spot anything wrong in it now.”
The young woman lifted an eyebrow at him. She gave him one of her very best severe looks. The look she perfected throughout the years. It was also one of the few things that calmed her most rowdy followers in the mafia world.
She did blush at the compliment. "I always take care of you. Must I remind you that before your mission to Europe, I had often found you slumped over your desk with candy wrappers all over." Reila told him. Her hands on her hips. "Besides, it's my job to take care of you, Mister Graves. If it was up to me, I'll be taking care of you at home-"
"Forgive me sir." Reila apologized to him. "That...that was uncalled for. I apologized." Her blush deepend when he laid his hand on her arm. Her heart beat quickened. She had done well, hiding her crush on him. On a man that is older than her and had some grey in his hair.
Reila looked thoughtful. "I have read it several times. Do you think that he would come here? We all hear the rumors of how he doesn't dare touch Britain because of Professor Dumbledore. I doubt that there would even be anything of interest for him to come here."
"If he does, I'll be on his list." Reila continues on, unaware of just who she was talking to. "Just because I'm a muggleborn orphan."
She took a deep breath as she picked up her own cookie, staring at it with a frown.
Percival regarded her... well... gravely, only because he couldn't smile at the discussion of Grindelwald. He folded his hands under his chin as he watched her, wishing he could clarify to her how misunderstood Grindelwald was. And as if he feared Dumbledore? That was just ridiculous.
But Percival Graves had no evidence otherwise to dispute it.
"I don't think the possibility of him coming here should be ignored. We do have a strange history here when it comes to the way we've interacted with the nomaj. For example, it isn't illegal in Britain, or a good portion of Europe, to intermarry. So, no, despite what Madame President believes and pushes, I do not suggest operating under the assumption Grindelwald would have no interest in bringing his propaganda here. She wants to keep people from panicking; I can understand that. But I don't think ignorance will protect anyone more than temporarily. It's why I've been so adamant on the travel ban and I've been more directly involved with the passports. But... well, what if he is a master of transfiguration and can forge any documents he needs to support a different persona? Then he really could be anywhere. And in any place of authority."
Reila's eyes narrowed at those words. She wasn't particularly...well fond of no-majs due to her experiences growing up. She could still hear the Matron screaming that she was possessed and she would end up in hell.
"I have heard how things are different in Britain. I'm not really...fond of them." She shrugged her shoulders. "I grew up in a no-maj orphange where they were convinced I was possessed due to my accidental magic breaking away. Stopped trying to get adopted by age nine." She paused and turned bright pink. "Sorry for the unneeded ramblings."
That thought made her uncomfortable. She looked up at her boss, a cookie half in and half out of her mouth. She broke it in half and started chewing on it.
"Now that would be a scary thought. Should we start questioning our own authorities when they come in for work sir?"
A chill went through her. She needed to protect her underground. Thank Merlin Grindelwald didn't have any interest in it.
Or so she thought.
@hauntedmystic
Well shit.
That was the first thought that crossed Regulus's mind the minute he got home. He looked....well. Not someone who had spent at least a few months locked up at St. Mungo's. That was in due part thanks to his family's wealth. And the fact that everyone thought the Black family was rather....mad.
His favorite house elf, Kreacher, had thrown himself at his feet, sobbing. Now the young man felt bad amd he knelt dowm to reassure the elf that, yes, he was fine. Yes, he had the locket and he planned to destroy it. He hadn't told anyone yet.
"Regulus? I thought you would be staying." Orion came up to him. Regulus smiles.
"I'll come back before dinner. I have to visit...someone."
He was hoping and praying that certain someone wouldn't murder him on sight.
"Be safe."
Regulus nodded and he walked out of the family home.
"Barty! Open up you prat!" The refined heir to the Black family shouted, banging on the door to his boyfriend's house. "Don't make me blast the door open you fool!"
With Barty upstairs, it was Winky the house elf who heard the noise at the front door. She ducked behind a couch; this wasn’t supposed to happen! Mr. Crouch had been very adamant about securing the house and keeping people away. Mr. Crouch never had company, so Winky didn’t know what to do about someone at the door.
She ran half way up the staircase before vanishing and reappearing in Barty’s room. “Winky hears a boy at the door! Ohh… Winky’s cooking dinner but now there’s a boy at the door!”
Barty blinked at her. “Then let him in. I’m the one who can’t be seen, not you.” He set his book aside and stepped out into the hallway.
He stood overlooking the lower level, but the imperious curse kept him from going downstairs when his father wasn’t home. He was late today.
There were many layers to the curse he lived under. Barty couldn’t go downstairs without permission, he couldn’t kill himself, he couldn’t use any magic whatsoever, &c. And he really hoped this whole nightmare would turn him into an obscurial so he could kill his dad!
Long term side effects of the curse included low blood pressure; he sunk down to recover from the dizziness that had hit him from standing up too quickly.
But he felt weaker when he recognized the voice at the door. He tried to call Winky, but the curse prevented him from speaking if someone else might have the chance to hear him. He rushed back into his room to tell her she should go open the door.
“Oh, no! Winky can’t!” She shook her head and held her face in her hands. She didn’t want Mr. Crouch to hurt her. She couldn’t disobey him no matter how much she wanted to obey Barty.
“Fine! Finish dinner then!” Barty demanded. She scampered back downstairs and into the kitchen.
When she was out of the way Barty returned to the landing balcony to toss some books across the parlor toward the front door in the hopes the odd clatter would inspire Regulus to force entry.
Regulus had given up after a few more minutes. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling under his breath in French. His eyes gleamed with a hint of madness. The locket, Salazar Slytherin's, rested on his neck. He had gone through literal hell and back for it to. He just hadn't told his family the truth.
He wasn't sure if Sirius, the pounce that he was, should know that he was going to try to defeat the Dark Lord. The mark rested on his arm. Just as it rested on Barty's.
He stopped, brow furrowing as he heard the clatter.
What in the world....
Regulus pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door, muttering a spell and the door burst open.
"Prat!" He greeted the seemingly empty hallway. "Barty come down here! I've returned!"
There has to be some way to push through the curse. There has to be! No spell is flawless! Yet this felt so HOPELESS. He was close achingly close to having a line of sight with Regulus, but not quite... He still tried and tried to speak when taking in more breath, but it wasn't possible.
If speaking directly to Regulus couldn't work... what if he framed it as speaking to Winky? Would he be able to find a work around the curse that way? If he wasn't allowed to speak to someone else that was one thing... But father had never prevented him from speaking to Winky.
Barty closed his eyes to try his idea. "Winky! I can't come downstairs to answer the door for you because of the imperius curse I've been under for ages now! WINKY. I'm STUCK UPSTAIRS when someone else is NEAR! I need you MY HOUSE ELF to break the curse! Only I know YOU WON'T because my father would KILL US BOTH if anyone were to HELP ME get the fuck OUT OF HERE."
Although his voice had been cracking into an odd tone, he hoped he might have gotten through the curse enough. Rubbing away his tears, he laughed bitterly when Winky appeared beside him in a terrible panic.
Wait....what?
Regulus's eyes narrowed at how....odd Barty seemed to be. Imperius Curse? What exactly happened during the time that he had spent in St. Mungo's for being 'crazy?' Salazar Slytherin's locket rest heavily on his chest. He swallowes hard. He knew Barty inside and out. He knew what riddle he had been given.
Now how to solve it?
Regulus tapped the end of his wand against his palm.
"I doubt your father could kill me." He drawled out. "Not unless he wants to evoke the wrath of the Black family." He chuckled darkly as he slowly started to climb the stairs. "Whatever do you mean you've been stuck under the curse? Barty what the fuck happened while I was away?" His magic swirled around him. While the Black family had a lot of dark magic, Regulus's was more of....grey with dark tendencies.
"What is needed to break the curse?" He demands of his boyfriend. His heart twisting.
@lauraroleplayss
Percival Graves’ disciplined demeanor did not translate well to being conducive to a fun, friendly gathering. Gellert was a good actor, but for maximum consistency it was best to stick with how he had already established Mr. Graves to behave; therefore, instead of going to the MACUSA Christmas party, he stopped in his secretary’s office on his way through to his own.
“Before our meeting I would appreciate if you bring me back a cookie when you go downstairs. And cheese and crackers if there’s any left.”
Mr. Graves was too mysterious and introverted to be seen eating in a crowd. It would just look silly. Or maybe Gellert was projecting too much onto him; the fact of the matter was he didn’t want to eat there instead of quietly in his office.
“The gingerbread.” he clarified. “Obviously.” With a wandless spell he opened a glass bottle of Coke.
Reila looked up from her paperwork the minute her boss entered. Brown eyes puzzled as they landed on him but she straightened instantly.
"Of course Mister Graves. Might I suggest some of the ham as well? So you can at least have a type of meat?" While it wasn't crossing the line, Reila often looked after her boss, making sure that he eats food. Real food.
At the mention of the meeting, the young red head nodded. "Are there any notes that you want me to prepare? Or look at?"
She managed to hide a smile. "Ginger bread cookies it is then. I'll make sure to bring a dozen just for you then."
Reila watches him for a while. Finally she took a deep breath.
"What about the notes on the....on the underground?" She was hesitant on asking but she wanted to be one step ahead of her boss.
After all, she ruled the underground with an iron fist. And even managed to keep her two lives seperate for now.
“Mm.” He acknowledged her desire to bring him other food, vaguely without commitment either way because he may eat some real food if given it but he wasn’t prioritizing it over cheese. Thank god for cheese.
“I do prefer notes to accompany our discussions.” Percival said as he peeled off his coat. “I accumulate a large quantity of information every day. It helps me keep track of it when I have something to refer back to when I’m thinking about it at a later date.”
He unlocked his office door but kept it open so Reila could still hear him when he left her sight. “I have updates to share with you on the Grindelwald situation. More specifically, where we’re at in my travel ban legislation and what I need you to help me with.”
Trying, and failing badly, Reila could not hide a smile as she watches her boss.
"Well, lucky for all of us involved, I can easily spell my quill to write down the notes while paying attention to you and the other senior Aurors." Reila had been working under Percival for almost three years. Half had been in the office environment. She had been paired with him on missions a few times and it always took her breath away when she watched him duel.
"Are we doing any practice dueling?" Reila asked now. "We haven't done that since your trip to Europe. I must admit I am a tad bit rusty as I've been confined to the office." Here she made a face. It wasn't her fault that she had been severely injuired during a mission. She blamed it soley on the two hulking dark wizards.
The young woman nodded seriously. "The travel ban that you had been working on the past year sir? I think I have the notes somewhere around here."
She idly tapped her finger on the desk with a nod. "You have us working around the clock on the Grindelwald case. Not that I don't blame you." On cue her stomach rumbled and she blushed.
"Actually I'll go down and grab us some snacks from the party. If you'll excuse me sir."
She soon returned. A small box floated to the side of her and she gently laid it on top of his desk.
"I took a lot of Gingerbread cookies. There are some ham and fruits."
Her box was similar to his but there was a cheesecake in hers. Her favorite.
"Sure." he said before she left. As he waited he sat at his typewriter to produce an assortment of replies to other department heads.
"I did not ask for this many." Percival said when Reila returned with the food. He would take them home though. Lifting his dark gaze to her, he added, "Thank you." And everything else he could need was in his box too. “None could say you don’t take care of me.” A hand landed on her arm before he lifted it away to take one of his cookies. He would need this first for dueling energy.
“I expect the travel ban legislature to go through without an issue because people are well aware by now of the threats of Grindelwald’s influence spreading. I would like you to review the documents for any printing or grammatical errors. I’ve looked over it too many times over too many days. I would never spot anything wrong in it now.”
The young woman lifted an eyebrow at him. She gave him one of her very best severe looks. The look she perfected throughout the years. It was also one of the few things that calmed her most rowdy followers in the mafia world.
She did blush at the compliment. "I always take care of you. Must I remind you that before your mission to Europe, I had often found you slumped over your desk with candy wrappers all over." Reila told him. Her hands on her hips. "Besides, it's my job to take care of you, Mister Graves. If it was up to me, I'll be taking care of you at home-"
"Forgive me sir." Reila apologized to him. "That...that was uncalled for. I apologized." Her blush deepend when he laid his hand on her arm. Her heart beat quickened. She had done well, hiding her crush on him. On a man that is older than her and had some grey in his hair.
Reila looked thoughtful. "I have read it several times. Do you think that he would come here? We all hear the rumors of how he doesn't dare touch Britain because of Professor Dumbledore. I doubt that there would even be anything of interest for him to come here."
"If he does, I'll be on his list." Reila continues on, unaware of just who she was talking to. "Just because I'm a muggleborn orphan."
She took a deep breath as she picked up her own cookie, staring at it with a frown.
@hauntedmystic
Well shit.
That was the first thought that crossed Regulus's mind the minute he got home. He looked....well. Not someone who had spent at least a few months locked up at St. Mungo's. That was in due part thanks to his family's wealth. And the fact that everyone thought the Black family was rather....mad.
His favorite house elf, Kreacher, had thrown himself at his feet, sobbing. Now the young man felt bad amd he knelt dowm to reassure the elf that, yes, he was fine. Yes, he had the locket and he planned to destroy it. He hadn't told anyone yet.
"Regulus? I thought you would be staying." Orion came up to him. Regulus smiles.
"I'll come back before dinner. I have to visit...someone."
He was hoping and praying that certain someone wouldn't murder him on sight.
"Be safe."
Regulus nodded and he walked out of the family home.
"Barty! Open up you prat!" The refined heir to the Black family shouted, banging on the door to his boyfriend's house. "Don't make me blast the door open you fool!"
With Barty upstairs, it was Winky the house elf who heard the noise at the front door. She ducked behind a couch; this wasn’t supposed to happen! Mr. Crouch had been very adamant about securing the house and keeping people away. Mr. Crouch never had company, so Winky didn’t know what to do about someone at the door.
She ran half way up the staircase before vanishing and reappearing in Barty’s room. “Winky hears a boy at the door! Ohh… Winky’s cooking dinner but now there’s a boy at the door!”
Barty blinked at her. “Then let him in. I’m the one who can’t be seen, not you.” He set his book aside and stepped out into the hallway.
He stood overlooking the lower level, but the imperious curse kept him from going downstairs when his father wasn’t home. He was late today.
There were many layers to the curse he lived under. Barty couldn’t go downstairs without permission, he couldn’t kill himself, he couldn’t use any magic whatsoever, &c. And he really hoped this whole nightmare would turn him into an obscurial so he could kill his dad!
Long term side effects of the curse included low blood pressure; he sunk down to recover from the dizziness that had hit him from standing up too quickly.
But he felt weaker when he recognized the voice at the door. He tried to call Winky, but the curse prevented him from speaking if someone else might have the chance to hear him. He rushed back into his room to tell her she should go open the door.
“Oh, no! Winky can’t!” She shook her head and held her face in her hands. She didn’t want Mr. Crouch to hurt her. She couldn’t disobey him no matter how much she wanted to obey Barty.
“Fine! Finish dinner then!” Barty demanded. She scampered back downstairs and into the kitchen.
When she was out of the way Barty returned to the landing balcony to toss some books across the parlor toward the front door in the hopes the odd clatter would inspire Regulus to force entry.
Regulus had given up after a few more minutes. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling under his breath in French. His eyes gleamed with a hint of madness. The locket, Salazar Slytherin's, rested on his neck. He had gone through literal hell and back for it to. He just hadn't told his family the truth.
He wasn't sure if Sirius, the pounce that he was, should know that he was going to try to defeat the Dark Lord. The mark rested on his arm. Just as it rested on Barty's.
He stopped, brow furrowing as he heard the clatter.
What in the world....
Regulus pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door, muttering a spell and the door burst open.
"Prat!" He greeted the seemingly empty hallway. "Barty come down here! I've returned!"
