BLACK SHEEP

Fireworks Of My Heart [dir. Li Mu Ge]

she had a point and taking a look at the damage around him - he couldn’t say he wouldn’t have said the same thing, which was infuriating in itself, “does the scratch hurt?” his gaze challenging, it was funny how the littlest of cuts can cause a storm of agony. her question had caught him off guard - he hadn’t taken a second to even assess his own injuries, “i don’t think so –” his own lips matching the smile that she was sporting, “i’m sure i’ll find something to complain about tomorrow”

The challange in his voice, his probing question — it all surprises her. She looks back at him with stubbornness. "Bearing pain with grace is a virtue, as my mother always said." She challanges back, uncertain why. She shouldn't humor it. Her arms cross over her chest, her eyebrow arches. "I've had worse hurts than this." And she thinks, fleetingly, that she should shoo him away before he can fret more, before he can make her feel this strange sense of care with any more intensity than he already is. She doesn't understand him. She doesn't understand herself right now, either. "But — I do have essence of Dittany upstairs. There is no skill in healing magic required for that. If the marring of my smile worries you so much, I'll let you help me use it."

"i can't see my parents - seeing them, seeing their fear -- i can't do that. i was supposed to be useful here, you know? what is the point if i can't even save my own brother? fabian refuses to join - i don't doubt he's out there losing his mind as he works his leads and i'm here" it felt like word vomit, word after word - tumbling into a mess that she could barely decipher. "i'm sorry too --" eyes glistening, "peter is going to be okay" she knew was a hypocrite to offer them that solace, but she would rather be a fool clinging on to hope than someone who accepted the other outcome.

There is a grief that Sirius has to swallow past, and their fingers shake slightly when they squeeze her hand. "You are useful." They tell her. "Molly, you're —" Sirius forces themself to look in her eyes. "You're more useful than you can ever know. You're the heart of this place." The world can be cold and awful, full of pain. Sirius has seen it all first hand. There is no surity in it, there are no promises that any of them will be safe ever again. But Sirius finds the words spilling out, despite that. "They will all be okay." Sirius says. "I promise you, Mols. I'm going to save your brother if it is the last thing that I do. I'm a stubborn bastard, you know that."

Sometimes bad things have to happen in order for you to good. This was such a time as Regulus joined in with the cackles and dark smiles of loyal dark servants gathering to celebrate their mission. His absence would have been noted, but he has plans to disappear once the masks go on. No one would be the wiser that his presence was no longer among them as they created chaos at the yule celebration. His stomach turns at the thought of the death that is going to following in this groups wake - again, he has to let it happen to cover his true mission - one only he knows about. He doesn't let the sickened look sour his face, he keeps up the dark grin and turns to one of his companions, "Finally, we are allowed to make a true strike against the Order that will hurt, this has been a long time coming."

The smile on Regulus's face was a familiar one. Evan had seen it what seemed like a thousand times. It was rote. It was expected. He returns it savagely. A grin like a knife, a twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, yes." He says, a soft sigh. "They're not going to like this one. Poor little things are going to be so scared. Our Dark Lord does love to give us these gifts." He reaches out and rests a hand on Regulus's shoulder. They were attacking a place that ought to have belonged to him, after all. This little school they had made out of an ancestral Black Family home. If it had been a Rosier estate, Evan would have rather burned it to the ground. "We're making a step toward reclaiming part of your legacy, Reg. Aren't you thrilled?"

Fleabag  |  2x06

Regulus is happy to walk with her through the halls of the school, allowing her to lead them as she explains their grandfather's personal collection was not in her office. It was exactly what he was after, but he couldn't explain what he was actually doing with the information. The fact the Minister would not like these books was big enough as it was. As expected, she won't push him. But they are stopped at the door of her office and she turns towards him catching his gaze. A promise he needs to make and how much it make shim want to loosen his tongue, to tell her everything. He had to grind down on his teeth before he can reply. "I promise you, the knowledge that I seek will not take the life of an innocent." He takes care in the way he words that. It would be up to her to interpret whatever the meaning of it was. Telling her without actually telling her.

She had to wonder if Regulus's sudden presence here meant something. She had to wonder if his willingness to come to her door meant that his horizons were broadening. She never expected any of them to be perfect paragons of justice. She could admit that her own ideals were more morally grey than anything else — but she was trying, she was clinging to the belief that no life was worthless, that magic was a gift and if you had it you were worthy of something, worthy of life, worthy of learning. Those were ideas that meant that Tom Riddle probably wanted to burn her school to the ground. Her breath catches, just a little bit, when Regulus offers her the assurance. She watches his eyes as he says the words, lets herself be steely and as intense as her father had always been. "A Black's word is his bond, Regulus. If you break that promise, I will enact retribution." The words weren't harsh — she knew he wouldn't expect anything less from her. There is love in her eyes when she finally nods her head. She unlocks the door and brings him inside. The walls are lined with books, as old and as dark as their family is. "If I can point you in the right direction, just say the word. " She offers to him, a double meaning.

“That is such a Stassi quote.”

a hint of a smile toyed at his lips, “no one had to tell me, one look at sirius and you can only expect deviants from that bloodline”. it had crossed his mind – that something had failed with the wards, because however could they get in, hogwarts itself was yet to fall and that was more than likely because blood magic couldn’t be involved. “we can get right to it once we have someone look at that cut of yours –” he assured, getting up to only bend down slightly to get a good look at her, “i would offer, but your smile is too beautiful for me to fuck up and healing spells were never my forte”

She raises a hand, brushes fingers against the cut. The touch stings again. Frank is probably right, a scar would be unseemly, and it would probably scare the little ones when they saw her next. "It's just a scratch, really. I'm sure everyone with a true talent for healing has much bigger wounds to worry about than mine." Another small smile, though more genuine. "You're not hurt, are you?"

@younggodsx

"I know you're not fine, because I'm not fine either — none of us are, least of all you." They reach out to take her hand. "I'm sorry, Molly."

"how can i help?" he questioned softly, his focus fully on her -- there wasn't really an instruction manual on how to be the most effective betrothed, but he was hoping she wouldn't hesitate to put him to good use.

The excess of words are perhaps a sign of her shock, of the fear that flutters in her chest. She is startled through it by the softness of his voice, by the strange kind of care in it. He can help in many ways, she imagines. Even asking is help. I want someone to tell me this is all going to be okay, she thinks, and doesn't say. It would be too sentimental. "The wards," She says, instead, "We'll need help, building them back up. A lot of them are tied to me. To Sirius. The Black Family. Blood wards are the strongest, but maybe — If Bellatrix was here tonight, that may have been how they brought them down to get in. New ones might suit us better."

Narcissa loved her almost as if she was family. When Alice ran away, Narcissa had been jealous — but it had been an inspiration for her, too, proof that girls like them could survive without the households they were raised in, without the approval of their mothers and fathers. She can feel her walls breaking down the moment that Alice looks at her, becuase Alice knows her better than anyone. "I'm fine. Yes — I'm always fine, you know that." She nods her head, and then, with more honesty: "I'm scared."

"They obviously are not doing their work very well, because here I am." But that was how he wanted it to be and he was going to say so as much. "Since you are my favorite cousin though, perhaps we can keep this little visit between you and I?" It's the smallest of favors in which he is about to ask for. "I do have another request to make of you. I need to do research in your library and in particular, the forbidden section." He quiets his tone, "I'm sure there's a few books there that the Minister wouldn't like."

A breath slips out of her chest, and her shoulders soften. "Walk with me, Regulus." She tells him, and leads him back up the stairs again. "I moved all of Grandfather's personal collection into my office. Too dangerous to risk little hands sneaking in to, you know? I'm sure that there are books in there that the Minister would... well, yes." She hesitates only when she gets to her office door. "I will let you study, Regulus. I will not pry into what you are doing — only because I believe if you want to tell me, you will do it of your own accord. But you must promise me one thing, before I open this door." She turns to look him in the eye. "Promise me that you're not going to use any of the knowledge in those books to hurt innocent people."