caitrionaebing:
@regulusblacx
Caitriona nodded slowly, processing Regulus’ logic. It made sense; her own mother thought Voldemort’s crusade was a mistake, and Chu-Hua was waiting for this period of fanaticism to die down so things could go back to normal. But if Voldemort himself couldn’t die, his cause was unlikely to. The idea that the man her father served might actually achieve his goals was deeply unsettling to Caitriona. “You’re not wrong,” she paused for a moment then added. “I confess I never expected Voldemort to actually succeed. The world he envisions is so nonsensical, it’s preposterous.”
It felt like a risk to make such a confession; Caitriona had never come so close to discussing her true opinions about blood purity with anyone, other than Benjy. But Regulus was taking a risk, sharing all of this information with her, and she wanted to show him that she understood, that she was willing to meet him in the same spirit. It was a small thing, but so much of their lives were made up of small things that represented something larger.
Caitriona pursed her lips, frowning slightly as Regulus continued. “If Dumbledore knows the truth of Voldemort’s heritage, why has he not made it public? Horcruxes or no, if he did not have the support of his followers, Voldemort would be much less of a threat.” Allies were important, that was another thing Eamonn Burke had taught his daughter, and her mother had taught Caitriona the effectiveness of isolating an opponent. She was confident her father, and probably a great many other pureblood Death Eaters, would abandon Voldemort if they knew the truth of his family history.
As they spoke, Caitriona continued to turn the locket over in her hand, and when she traced the curved row of green gems with the pad of her thumb, she realized why it had initially caught her attention. “This came from the shop. I mean the original. My father told me about it, a story he heard from his father. Great Great Grandfather Caractacus used to talk about it, it was his greatest triumph. He bought it for a song and then sold it for nearly forty times what he paid for it.” It was, to date, the greatest profit margin on a single sale in the shop’s history.
More to the point at this moment, however, was the fact that Caitriona’s great great grandmother, Odilia, and Odilia’s best friend, Lucia Borgin, had always made sure the shop kept meticulous records. Caitriona’s heart beat faster as she slowly looked at her cousin and she was startled to realize it was from excitement. “Regulus, we could find the buyer.”
.
Regulus blinked at Caitriona, understanding the weight of her confession. The layers they had built to protect themselves from pureblood scrutiny meant they had never voiced aloud to each other their true thoughts on blood purity. Regulus had always sensed that Caitriona was far too intelligent to believe in any of the pureblood community’s extremist beliefs. She knew better than to go out and spout how she actually felt. Regulus had been the same until he’d gone and made the irreversible mistake of taking the Dark Mark, pulled into the world of a zealot where the consequences were far greater than he had ever imagined. “Of course it’s preposterous. But he is never going to stop until he achieves that vision-- he’ll kill anyone that gets in his way, and that’s why we need to make sure he can even be conquered.” Regulus paused, glancing across the desk at her. “I trust that you may speak your mind freely with me, cousin. Your secrets are always safest with me. You already know my biggest one,” he said with a wry smile.
Regulus leaned back in his chair, scratching his chin in thought. “I have considered that as well. Perhaps such an announcement would just be seen as Order propaganda. Or, even worse, the Dark Lord could use it to his advantage-- he’d make an example of how the lineage of Slytherin was tainted by muggle blood and how it could happen to other pureblood dynasties unless the problem is solved.”
“The shop?” Regulus repeated in surprise. “You mean-- this was once in Borgin & Burke’s possession?” He looked down at the duplicate locket, trying to picture it within the walls of the place he’d frequented for years, where he worked day in and day out. A tingle of excitement climbed his spine and he nodded at Caitriona. “That would be excellent. Who bought it, when it was sold, and how that owner ended up giving it to Voldemort.” He jotted down his thoughts into the nearest notebook he had, not wanting to miss any key details.
