all in the family, iso; Regulus Black

[anglachel]

Bellatrix Black yawned deeply into her palm, attempting to stifle it before Aunt Walburga saw and was potentially offended by her niece's lack of interest in the conversation. But then again, business had never interested Bella, and she had always made her displeasure and dispassion clear. But no one was paying much attention to her tonight, and her yawn had gone unnoticed.

Stirring her food around on her plate, much like a sulky teenager, she attempted to put on a good face and act like she was part of the family, but to much avail. It wasn't as if she could tell them all about her latest exploits and adventures, goodness knew who was a turncoat these days anyway. It wasn't as if she didn't trust her family... well, that was exactly it. These large family get-togethers were rife with potential defectors, the types who wouldn't agree with Bella's politics, and would perhaps turn her in for things she'd done. And besides, causing a ruckus during dinner would earn her a stern look from the family matriarch, as well as slap on the face from her mother for being a disgrace of a woman. Like that was anything new.

Seizing her fork, she proceeded to drag it across the nice tablecloth, staining it slightly with gravy and potatoes. Surely there was something more exciting to do... Realising that she had slunk down in her chair, she straightened up and tried to listen to her uncle espouse his latest invention/business venture. And she wanted to go to sleep. Part of her wanted to act her age, which was rather old now, and just pay attention and learn a little. And part of her desperately wanted to be off talking about more important things with Lucius or Rodolphus, and to be getting some real business done. She hadn't done an errand for the Dark Lord in a couple weeks, and she was rather antsy for some action.

Looking across the table, she half hoped that she'd see Sirius there, so that she could tease him or throw rice at him, or something, but of course, he'd been long gone, and there was only little Regulus left. She glanced back. Not so little anymore, evidently.

It seemed that the littlest Black had grown up. What was he? Fifteen? She wasn't sure. Cocking her head to the side, she looked at him with great interest. It seemed not so long ago that he had been a mewling little thing, without much personality other than to snitch and to whine. And even when he'd grown out of that, he'd always let Sirius (stupid blood traitor) do all the talking. Perhaps it was time for him to speak up a little.

"Regulus, could you pass the salt? And then get your head out of your lap and talk to me? I'm so bored." She rolled her eyes and looked at him from under long eyelashes. Whatever he said, she was sure he wasn't as boring as business.

[Russian Roulette]

Dinner with the family… How truly miserable.

So far, Regulus had been spending his time sulking, clearly wishing to avoid attention. He was slumped down in his seat, head down as usual, keeping his eyes on the table. He dutifully did his best to keep track of the conversation just in case they decided to pull him into it, but luckily, the adults seemed quite happy to keep their discussions among themselves. And so he was free to focus the rest of his concentration on eating; slowly and mechanically he would gather some food onto his fork and then bring it to his mouth. He dragged out the act of chewing as long as physically possible to avoid conversation as best he could, hoping that his sullen expression and posture would be enough to ward people off.

And it seemed to work… For the most part. His parents even seemed to be too caught up in their conversation to bother him about his posture like they normally did, which was a small blessing in itself. Without Sirius around to take the brunt of it, the attention from the rest of the family was often smothering for him. He loathed the attention, and also hated the fact that they didn’t even take the time to notice how it all affected him. He was facing pressure on all sides, and it was miserably difficult to attempt to keep himself sane in the midst of it all.

For a while he thought he was going to be able to finish his dinner and excuse himself without being bothered by anyone, but just before he could escape, someone said his name. His hand jerked slightly in surprise as he was called upon and, not recognizing the voice at first, turned to look who had spoken to him with obvious dread. Evidently, it was Bellatrix. She was a caustic young woman and a little overwhelming at that, but still, he would prefer to speak with her than one of the older Blacks.

”Yes…” He replied; the word came out almost as a sigh, his voice soft and flat, obviously not thrilled by the request. He carefully set his fork down and grasped the salt instead, holding it out to Bella in offering. So, the first part of the request had been rather easy to fulfill, but talking? It wasn’t exactly one of his strong points, and not something he particularly enjoyed, especially at family dinners. He cast a quick look around to make sure he hadn’t gathered attention to himself and, luckily, no one was looking over.

He turned back to Bella, looking her over as if trying to figure out what she could possibly want from him. Obviously she lacked interest in the conversation the rest of them were having, but still – why him?
”Well I doubt I’ll be able to help much with your boredom.” He stated plainly, in a futile hope that saying such would cause her to go find someone else to talk to. But no, that probably wasn’t going to work. He sighed slightly, gently bit into his lower lip, and then regarded her with a scrutinizing look again. He was tempted to just excuse himself, but then he would probably be chastised for being ‘rude’… And that was never good. So instead, he tried to force out a friendly tone… Well, perhaps ‘friendly’ would be pushing it a bit, but at least a polite tone would do. ”Well, what do you want to talk about?”

[anglachel]

[ooc: sorry for the crap, short post. my muse has fled.]

His reply caught her by surprise. What do you want to talk about? Err... well. There were many things on her mind that they could discuss, things that perhaps were to sordid to discuss at the table, but she wondered how much he knew or how much he cared. But, choosing to fiddle with her glass instead, she liberally sprinkled the salt that had been passed over onto her now cooling and rather tepid food. Whatever blood was, it did not unite them, and even though she rather wanted to be his friend, she knew she was too cold and too far away to get to know him now. A pity she had been such a bitch when they were children. She hardly thought he could forget everything she'd done to him, and Sirius. Such animosity ran deeper. She took a sip of her wine, and looked at him from under ridiculously long eyelashes.

"I don't know, Regulus. What do you want to talk about?" She regretted the childish turn of phrase as it came out of her mouth, and she bit her lip and smirked slightly to herself. "Sorry, I'm used to being rather petulant and bratish in your presence. Forgive me while I grow up a little." She took another sip of her wine, and swished the dregs at the bottom of the glass, watching the flecks of particulate matter wash up against the sides.

"We could talk about school, or we could talk about Quidditch." She smirked again. "Neither of which interest you at the moment, I'm sure." She sighed, half to herself, wondering if engaging him in conversation had beena poor idea. Indeed, realliy, as she was quickly realising, she had nothing to say to this boy. Everything they could have ever talked about was already taboo.

"Or we could go on a walk and discuss more... interesting things."

[Russian Roulette]

As he waited for her response, Regulus observed Bella with caution; after all, this was Bellatrix Black he was dealing with. He certainly hadn’t forgotten what she was like when they were younger; and, as far as he was concerned, nothing had changed. He didn’t expect any kindness from his cousin, and wasn’t about to give any in return. Once her attention turned away from her food and wine and back to him, he couldn’t help but quail slightly under her gaze, and then quickly re-composed himself and hoped she wouldn’t notice. Unable to bring himself to meet her gaze for longer than a few seconds, instead he looked down at his plate while he spoke to her, evidently finding something of extreme interest there.

Her childish response made one corner of his lips curl into an almost-smile, almost pleased to hear some evidence that she remained the same person that she had always been. Her apology, however, was rather unexpected, and he quickly glanced sideways at her before averting his gaze again. He made no response; many leapt to his mind, eager to be said, but far too many of them were rude and he would rather not become openly hostile until she had done so herself. So instead he just sat and waited expectantly, assuming that she would at least make an attempt to come up with a topic.

School? Quidditch? Not exactly what he had expected out of her; both suitable topics for dinner, but he was quite sure that a conversation revolving around either of those subjects would quickly grow tedious. But what else was there to talk about? He was quite alright with speaking about school or whatnot; the conversation would only manage to last for a few minutes, and then he could casually excuse himself from the table; it would be a smooth exit that would cause offense to no one. But before he could initiate this plan, she made another suggestion. The idea immediately set off warning bells in Regulus’ mind; he couldn’t see this going well, and being alone with Bella certainly seemed rather… Dangerous.

But at the same time, it would probably turn out to be more interesting than this dinner was; that, and, he was curious to see what she had to say. As long as he was careful, nothing would go wrong… Right? So, surprising himself slightly, he gave a brisk, almost imperceptible nod, agreeing with her idea.
“Sounds like a plan… That is, if they release us…“ He said quietly, gaze flitting from one family member to another. After a few seconds of trying to work up the nerve, he raised his voice slightly so it carried over to his mother, his tone polite and giving away nothing. “Mother, Bellatrix and I are going for a walk.”

Evidently, and luckily, his mother seemed too wrapped up in her conversation to be able to pay him much heed. She gave a slight wave with one hand without looking over, which Regulus was eager to take as a sign of dismissal. He looked over at Bella, waiting and looking mildly pleased with himself.

[anglachel]

Bella was really quite pleased that he had the balls to address his mother, knowing her Aunt's propensity toward denying things without thinking about them. It was fortunate for them that her blood alcohol content was perhaps higher than usual, and she was also heatedly embroiled in a discussion on the family finances, which as normal, were in a state of complete ruin and array. When they were children she often denied their requests out of spite, just to see them crestfallen. Bella couldn’t really say that she liked her aunt much.

Smiling to herself, she rose gracefully from her place at the table, and pushed in the antique chair. It squeaked against the ancient hardwood floors, and she winced slightly, but the offending noise was unnoticed against the chatter of the family. Pushing her hair back from her face, she tucked the long strands behind her ears, and then looked to her cousin.

"Shall we?" She was imperious as always, and hoped she did not seem too condescending to her cousin; after all, she hardly wanted to alienate him before they were even out the door. She seized her lucky cloak from a nearby house elf with a careless word of thanks, and patted it on its wizened head before striding toward the front door.

12 Grimmauld Place was a house of nightmares now, even for the supposedly hardened and cruel Bella Black, and she was glad to escape the fetid air even for a few moments. And even though at times she revelled in the dark nature of the mansion, she was desirous to escape the unhappiness that shrouded it.

Perhaps it was the disappearance of the eldest son, but Grimmauld Place was sinking into disrepute and neglect. Dear Aunt Walburga, having lost her favourite victim was somewhat more subdued these days. Whatever violence had ruled her life had faded, and she was a mere bitter shadow of her former virulent self. The house itself, which had once been the shining beacon of her childhood, now smelt of death and what was best left forgotten. All the memories were best left behind as well.

She stood on the stoop, waiting for Regulus to catch up, savouring the misty night air and the fragrance of fire on the breeze. Several houses just down the street, and others in the neighbourhood had blazed the night before, the muggle inhabitants destroyed, and the ash lingered in the gutters. The sun had glowed red upon their arrival earlier that afternoon, blotted out by the flurries of dark soot in the air. The blood red sunset had been a sight to behold, and she almost wished that it had never set. The night was cold, and she was thankful for her cloak, for her dress was hardly suitable.

“Lumos.” Her wand tip lit up, and shone brightly in comparison to the muggle street lamps which she greatly despised. They cast enormous puddles of yellowish light, ineffective for sight and inefficient at casting illumination. She turned to look for Regulus. “Ready?”

Even if he wasn’t, she started on down the front steps to the pavement in front of the house, kicking dead leaves in front of her as she went. It was far too late for many muggles to be out and about, and she wasn’t afraid of being caught anyways. She was hardly afraid of anything anymore.

[Russian Roulette]

Regulus waited for Bella to rise first, cringing slightly at the sound the chair made against the floor, in a mirror of Bella’s own action. He quickly glanced to the other family members and then back, relieved to see that nobody was paying the noise much heed. He rose from his chair as well, the action not as graceful as Bella’s; he even managed to almost knock his fork off the table in the process. Luckily, he caught the utensil before it hit the ground, and then bashfully set it back on the table, not looking in Bella’s direction in fear of being mocked for his mishap. Not wanting to mimic the horrible squeak that Bella had made with his chair, he handled the chair carefully and slowly, so that it made as little noise as possible.

He nodded slightly in response to her question, already beginning to feel as if she were looking down upon him. He hated being spoken to like a child, and it happened far too often, seeing as he was the youngest Black child. He had always been “the baby” of the family, though being referred to as such ground on his nerves considerably. Some things just couldn’t be changed…

As he looked around for his own cloak, Kreacher rushed to bring it to him, the house elf possibly aglow that he was able to serve. As Regulus received the cloak he beamed at the elf and quietly voiced his approval; he had always favored Kreacher, loved the way the house elf was so eager to help out. And, unlike some others, Regulus always went out of his way to be kind to the little guy. He pulled the cloak on and then followed Bellatrix; he was trying his very best to keep up, despite the fact she seemed completely unaware of the fact that he was a little behind. Luckily, she stopped on the stoop to wait, and so he managed to catch up, standing beside her and looking around.

The cold was instantly biting, and he pulled his cloak tighter around him, shivering a little and then wrinkling his nose in a childlike manner as he caught the scent of fire. He had never enjoyed the smell, and now it hung heavily in the air, reminding him why he had kept within the house all day. It did get a bit stuffy, staying cooped up in the house all day, but it was better than smelling (and seeing) ashes everywhere. 12 Grimmauld Place seemed to have a rather melancholy air about it, but Regulus didn’t mind; in fact, it suited him just fine. He felt that he belonged in the house, and shared the gloom that it had so much of.

After Bella used the spell, her wand effectively lit up the surrounding area, and he felt no need to mimic the spell; that was all the light that the two of them would need. But even though he wasn’t planning on using it, he carefully felt around in his pockets until he had clasped his wand, making sure he had it; he wanted it at the ready, seeing as he was going to be alone with Bellatrix. He was hoping she wasn’t quite crazy enough to decide to attack him for no apparent reason, but, well… With her, you never knew. So he kept one hand on the wooden stick, his only weapon in case of an emergency, and then nodded towards Bella once again. But the action was useless, because she had already started to walk away. Chest heaving with a sigh, he scrambled off after her. He walked just behind his older cousin, shadowing her, not sure where exactly they were going.

He took a deep breath of the night air and then coughed, finding himself with a noseful of the smell of fire once again. A little embarrassed, he fell quiet for a few moments, and then tentatively spoke up, asking,
“So… You wanted to talk…?” He tried to keep his tone calm and cold, but a tinge of curiosity was evident in his voice.

[anglachel]

She could hear his footsteps right behind her, faintly echoing her own on the hard muggle pavement, etched with the handprints and tags of long gone people. Even though she had been taught all her life to detest muggles with a passion, sometimes she found it odd when wizards were remarkably similar to their lesser kind. For example, muggles seemed to be constantly trying to carve their names and presences everywhere, as if they didn't wish to be forgotten. And wizards and witches did similar things. Everyone wanted to be remembered, perhaps Bella most of all. She smirked at herself; she would have to rid herself of her ambitions. After all, her one true lord held sway over even her petty desires.

As she walked, she turned slightly to acknowledge her cousin’s presence. After all, he would come of age soon. He was hardly a boy anymore, and probably had no desire to be treated like one. She rather wished that he were still little and she could still chase him with slugs so that he might scream; things were much simpler then. But things had changed; Sirius’ abandonment had changed them both, perhaps for the worse, perhaps for the better. She hadn’t decided yet. And she was hardly able to believe that she was still able to think his name without retching.

“I’m sure you know of some things,” she said coolly, slowing her brisk pace as they got further and further away from the house. “You can’t have ignored some of the murmurings that emerge from the House of Slytherin.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, lips set in her usual haughty smile. She wasn’t sure how to gauge him. Was he his brother’s boy? Or could she trust him to follow his mother’s fanatical path? It seemed to Bella that people weren’t “good” or “bad”. Certainly there were those of her allies who she could decidedly say were on her side, without question, but she’d seen the shadow of doubt lurking in even the most devoted eyes.

“Times are changing, Regulus.” She did not say this to merely point out an obvious fact. She looked at him straight on, her black eyes penetrating. “And what you choose could well be life or death.”

She wasn’t sure what she was meaning to say, although she had an inkling of her purpose. Strangely enough, it wasn’t to convert him. Not yet, at least. She trusted some other would find what his heart desired, and would be sure to offer it to him. But it wasn’t Bella’s job to convince him to join their ranks, no, she had different motives.

“You are the last of the Black sons.” Again, this wasn’t to state the obvious. “Try and make us proud, won’t you?” She tried to end on a light note, and smile, but she failed.

Really, she hadn’t expected to talk about this at all. Rather, she’d wanted to ask him who his friends were, what his favourite hobbies were, get to know him a little. She had known his brother better, and sometimes she hoped that the little one was as adventurous as the older. And she felt badly for bringing all of this up.

But it was clear that he didn’t trust her, and there was no point in trying to get him to confide. He was firmly, and perhaps correctly so, determined against her. And she didn’t blame him in the slightest.