Fenrir Had Headed Out Into Some Woodland In The Cotswolds Following On From A Shift At The White Wyvern.

Before James had arrived, Regulus had been occluding heavily to prevent the Order member reading his mind should they possess the ability to do so. As he'd let his wand clatter down to the table, Regulus had let those mental walls drop slightly - still present as ever, but not as heavy as he had been before. There was little in his life that Regulus had to himself - his memories and his thoughts were all he could cling to. "Other developments," he said, offering no further context. "I never stopped caring. That was never the issue, James, and you know it," he said, levelling James with a firm stare. Perhaps he wasn't just talking about Sirius any more, though he'd never admit it if pressed. "I know I can't control what he thinks, but I can control the way that he finds out and the manner it's delivered. It won't take away from what I have done previously either, and I fear that's all he'll look at. Oh, Sirius has been through a lot has he? And that gives him the right to react poorly, but not me the right to want to deliver the news myself? We've all been through a lot, James," Regulus said, immediately getting his back up at James' defence of Sirius. For all Regulus knew, Sirius had left the family home and had an easy ride of it all. "Oh, I think he might. Your precious Order was his thing, and now his little brother's back riding his coat-tails yet again."

The sharp sting of his nails against his skin helped to ground Regulus somewhat, aching to tear the Dark Mark off though he knew it wasn't possible. He abandoned his forearm to grasp the mug of beer, before he smiled though there was no humour behind it. "Pretty hard to undo twenty years worth of thoughts. They're all tangled up in my brain, dark vines weaving around each other. It's just...me," he said with a small frown. "You can't protect me from myself, James," he said gently. "A good son is someone who does his duties well, who marries well and continues the family name. Who explores the Dark Arts and furthers pure-blooded ideology. A good Death Eater is similar - he knows his duties, he focuses on the ideology, he pledges his undying devotion to the Dark Lord and he explores the dark arts and wields them without second thought. It's quite simple, really, if I didn't hate every bit of it." Regulus wasn't lying. He understood all of it - he knew what was expected of him, and up until now he had done it without outward complaint. It was simple in theory, until he started to see the harm he was doing and the reality of what would be to come if the Dark Lord won.

As James asked what more the Order could do, he shrugged his shoulders slightly, shaking his head. "I'm no strategist, or leader. But facing the Order from the other side...half of you don't even appear to be accomplished duelists. Do you have field healers, strategists who can think on their feet if something goes against plan? And how many of your Order members won't touch even a simple curse? You need to get comfortable using curses, even the darker ones...I'm not saying unforgivables because I know you won't cross that line. But if you have 10 Order members who want to stun and disarm and 10 Death Eaters who are willing to kill and maim to get what they want, my money is on the Death Eaters every time. Using only defensive magic is going to gain no ground."

Sighing deeply, Regulus took another long sip of his beer. "Maybe it's not entirely true, but when you're suffocating under relenting pressure, that's how it feels like. I don't know how to live without feeling like I have to perform for people like a fucking court jester," he said. "You can't possibly imagine what it's like having lessons to teach you to be better at curses that torture and control people, and I hope you never do. You're too good for that, Potter. I can see that you don't wanna talk about all my sins, so I'll...we'll leave it there," he said, wondering if this would forever change the way James looked at him.

Leaning back into his chair, Regulus' gaze followed James' movements as he took a long drink. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he tried to make sense of the change in tone. "James, c'mon man. Don't be like that," he said, not daring to put what he thought James' tone meant into words. "I can practically feel you itching to ask the question, though I'm not sure you actually want the answer. It's Caradoc."

If he didn't think it was an outrageous violation of privacy, James might've wished to be a Legilimens in that moment so that he could find out what Regulus was thinking, to know whether it was similar to what was going through his own head. He wondered vaguely whether Regulus could read his mind. Although he wouldn't be too surprised if he could, James sincerely hoped not. He wasn't sure how he'd recover. "Other developments?" James quirked an eyebrow. He bit back a comment about how he didn't know he was still in contact with Andy, because, at the end of the day, there was a lot else James didn't know about Regulus any more; if they opened this Pandora's box, he wouldn't know if they'd ever stop. "Being scared is a good thing, sometimes, I think. Means you still care," he said. He looked at him earnestly. "Honestly, Reg, you're not in control of what he thinks. I get that it's Sirius, and of course, he means a lot… I know more than anyone … but that's not your burden to bear. It won't take away from what you've done no matter what his immediate gut reaction to it is. And know that however he reacts is because he cares, too. He's just been through a lot." That was an understatement. He'd defend Sirius until his dying breath, over anyone. But James realised what that sounded like, and quickly added, "Not that I think he's going to react badly."

Not missing the way Regulus' hand went to his forearm, James almost squirmed, but masked this visceral reaction of disgust by summoning two mugs of Wizard's brew from the bar downstairs. He levitated one of them to set itself down in front of Regulus, before taking a long, deep sip of his own. "How do we get you to stop being so harsh on yourself?" Rich, coming from James, but his concern was reserved only for others. No time for self-examination. "As your officially appointed protector, I think that's my first order of business, because, Merlin, you're eating yourself alive. You're just doing your best, Regulus. There's no handbook for these types of things. What's a good son anyway, in a family like yours? What's a good death eater?" He sat up straighter in his seat, intrigued. "What d'you mean? What else do you think we can we do?" As one of the youngest members, James didn't have much say in the way the Order was run, or anything at all, really. It was mostly just following instructions. At this point, he was starting to wonder himself how to make a real difference, because it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere. James nodded. "And not just him. Everything he stands for, too."

A deep crease settled between his eyebrows. "C'mon, you know that's not true," he frowned, lips in a tight line. The first time I crucioed someone. The syllables reverberated in his head, again and again until the words didn't sound real any more. The first time –. Suddenly, James was overcome by the overwhelming desire to run away so he wouldn't find out what else Regulus had done. He hoped he wouldn't tell him. He couldn't stomach it. He felt stupid for being so stunned. What did he think death eaters did? Go out and frolic in fields of daisies? "I don't even know what that would've felt like. Can’t even begin to imagine it. I’m sorry.” He wanted to stop talking about this, but would go on for as long as Regulus needed. "Well, for the record, you do have family that would be proud of you. Andy, Ted, Sirius. Hey, probably Uncle Alphard, too, although I can't speak for him."

There it was. James took a swig of the drink in front of him. He ought to have expected it, really. The Black family curse. It always did happen after they met someone. "Oh, yeah? That sounds really ... great." Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did he sound so disingenuous? Was he being crazy? James willed himself to look up at Regulus, mentally going through every muggleborn man in the Order. "Honestly, that's really great. I'm so happy for you. It's ... a big thing to realise."

The last time Fenrir had found himself so vulnerable in the arms of another, he had ended up with Magnus at the end of it all. He'd spent so long working his way through the pack, fiercely independent and comfortable in his own company, and he hadn't expected Nancy to worm her way into his heart. Now history was repeating itself again. Things had started with Dora as a way to warm each other's beds, and now there was something....more. Something unexpected, but something wonderful. "I hope he does. I hope he knows his father wants only the best for him," Fenrir said earnestly. "There's nothing left of Anders. There was nothing but scraps at time, but I made sure those scraps disappeared. Nobody even cared enough to look for him," he sneered, thinking of the way his father had intentionally isolated them away. Taking her words on board, Fenrir nodded slowly, offering her a tight smile. "I try my best."

He knew that Pandora must have spent a great deal of time infusing these bracelets with her own magic, and he appreciated it more than he could say. "I don't need more. This is perfect, it's so thoughtful," he said, leaning his forehead against hers as their eyes met. With the war growing darker, and Fenrir finding himself being called upon more and more, it was a gift like no other to be able to know that his son was safe and away from it all.

Fenrir's hands came to settle on Pandora's waist, thumbs aimlessly tracing circles. "Darling, I'd cook for us. I like doing it, it makes me feel useful. Speaking of, what are you doing for New Years? If you have nothing on I could make us a meal, then we could go away for the night somewhere?"

The stress of the day melted away being tucked in Fenrir's arms. All her worries and doubts, they didn't matter when she was here in his home. Laying there listening to his story about his father stirred feelings of anger and sadness for him. Her parents were far from perfect, but they celebrated their way. "I bet you Magnus feels that love. I see it in your eyes when you talk about him. If your father was here still, I'd hurt him myself, for making you feel that way." A hand comes up to cup his cheek, leaning up to kiss his chin. "I also want to point out, you are nothing like your father. You are a strong leader who does have compassion, in his own way, but you care about those who are your pack above all, you protect those that you love."

Pandora would never grow tired of kissing him. There was this spark that sparked each time their lips met and it was one of the best feelings that washed over her. Her eyes lit up when he opened the box with the bracelets, spending the last few weeks to get the spell right, but with a twist of her own magic in it. "You deserve more, Fen." There was a peace of mind knowing that he would always be able to know where Magnus was when he couldn't be home.

"This is our first Christmas together." Fingers comb gently through his hair, moving it away from his face. "I'm really hoping that next year, we could all do it together." She was hopefully for what their future could look like, ignoring all the obstacles that would be in their way. "I'm not the best cook, but I think I could put a meal together."

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips at the woman's sneered words. Whatever he'd done to piss her off, he'd clearly done it spectacularly. "You're welcome to try and make it difficult," he said, wondering how much this woman hated him and whether she would start a fight in the bar. At her warning, Fenrir finally understood. "Ah...little Lupin. He'd be so much better with his own kind, and one day he will come to know it. You should consider carefully who you are trying to threaten, or it may be you next," his voice was low as she brushed past him, and he began making his way back towards the kitchen.

There were plenty of things Aurora wanted, but she knew of the reputation that came with the white wyvern, and if they knew she was an order member, but this beast, he hurt the one she cared for. "That would be too easy for you." She sneered, standing up, catching sight of who she was here to meet. "Stay away from Remus." She warned him, brushing past him over to the witch, handing her the envelope in her hand.

Regulus didn't want to feel this seemingly unending bitterness towards his brother. He didn't want to poke and prod at Sirius, not when he still secretly wanted his older brother's approval - though he knew he would never truly receive it. It seemed that no matter what he did, he would never make anyone happy - including himself. Sirius' silence would've concerned Regulus another time, and he was sure that when he returned home he would dwell on what it all meant, but for now Reg chose to sit in the awkwardness of the atmosphere between them. "And why would I have more run ins with the auror, brother? What are you accusing me of?" Regulus challenged, his gaze stony and hard.

"And take the rest of the family history with it? It's our story, Sirius, whether you like it or not," Reg shrugged. He wasn't liking it so much these days, but he still found the history on the tapestry interesting. He wondered how many of their ancestors had doubts like he did, buried deep inside. "If you're insistent that you aren't going to take it, there's little point in you being here and waiting for the aurors to deem us worthy of their time. You might as well go," he suggested, hoping to rid himself of this awkwardness.

Sirius was glad to be facing away as his brother spoke, a frown falling onto his face before he could control his expression. It seemed impossible that he had always been such a failure, a remarkable disappointment to his parents, and yet somehow they'd been using him as a bar to reach to. He felt guilt twist in his stomach despite all the years he'd spent trying to convince himself that his parents' behaviors were no fault of his own. It was harder to keep that belief up when he heard the bitterness in Regulus's tone. He was silent a beat too long, completely unsure what to say, and Regulus filled the silence with talk of the aurors. "I don't know," he shrugged, happy to move onto a new subject. "I'm sure you have a lot more run ins with them than I do." Working in the pub and keeping a relatively straight life meant most of his run ins with aurors were just them picking up people who were drunk and dangerous.

"She should have burned it down," he muttered, frowning to himself. Sirius was almost surprised the tapestry was still standing, sure it must just be a constant reminder of all the disappointments the Black family was starting to gather; his betrayal just the most recent. "Maybe it has both of our names on it or something," he sighed, lolling back in the chair again. "Or someone died and left us something." Though he couldn't think of many family members who would leave them both something. Just as he thought it the door swung open and Sirius went back to lolling lazily in the chair - the perfect image of unbothered.

It wasn't like he set out this morning to darken the shelves of the Apothecary with his mood, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to be in and out efficiently, and he'd been pushed and shoved and bothered. Any reasonable person would be grumpy about it, though he did quietly admit that it wasn't the woman's fault that she'd been shoved into his back. Perhaps this was what he should expect from society these days.

Handing the bottle over, Regulus wondered how bad one had to be at potions in order to need to buy bottled potions from the Apothecary instead of brewing them at home. "People generally have lost all sense of common courtesy, never mind when you add the busyness of the festive season in," Reg grumbled, turning his attention back to the shelves before Sophia spoke again. "Yes, gurdyroot, it will add some depth and make the whole thing a bit stronger. Crush it in a pestle and just add a pinch in and it should work a charm," he offered. "I find some peace in brewing potions. It's methodical, just like cooking."

Crowds didn't overly bothers Sophia, but it was the lack of care of consideration towards others that did bother her. Yes, she understood the streets and shop was busy, yet, she knew there was never any need for the pushing and shoving some of them had resulted too.

She sensed the annoyance from him, though chose to ignore it, after all she could hardly blame him, she'd feel pretty irritated too if someone had been shoved into them.

"Yes" she nodded, taking the bottle from him. "Thank you, and sorry again. This time of years seems to send people into a frenzy." She paused, thinking to herself that perhaps she was simply talking too much. She went to turn away, but he spoke again, he focus back onto the man.

"Gurdyroot" she repeated. "I hadn't heard of that, clearly" she chuckled. "Thanks, I'll grab some. Looking at how chaotic it is out there, I think I'll need all the extra help I can get. Potions never was my strong point."

There was no more important job within the Order of the Phoenix than ensuring that everyone's skills were up to scratch, especially knowing that the Death Eaters would not pull their punches. Kingsley himself had a vicious scar on his ribs demonstrating their lack of conscience, and the Order would crumble if they were sending out people who were unprepared. He'd come straight to headquarters from a warm up run, dressed in a black muscle vest and some grey shorts. "Morning Aurora. Thank you for arriving so promptly," he noted, reaching for his wand. "Today, we'll start small. I want you to try and disarm me however you can. I will act defensively, and I've already cast cushioning charms around the room so feel free to really give me everything you've got. I'm ready when you are."

where: training room of Order hq who: @battle-scvrs

Aurora wasn't sure why she felt nervous. Her duelling skills were fine, but until Kingsley was satisfied with her abilities, she would be kept within the walls whilst everyone else was out making a difference. She pulled her hair up into a pony, dressed in a paire of tights and tank top, her robes in hand when she walked out on the mat to where he was standing.

"Hello Kingsley," a smile on her lips.

Pulling the hood of his robes a little tighter around his face, Regulus had stowed his mask in his pocket as he awaited his mission partner. He wasn't entirely sure who was to join him that evening in muggle London, the briefing for his mission had simply been to arrive in Parliament Square at 7pm and await his partner before engaging. Despite living in London for much of his life, Regulus had never stood before the muggle Houses of Parliament and he eyed the building with a degree of curiosity. Muggles were so foolish and primitive, and yet some of them could create buildings that looked so beautiful without magic. Hidden within the beautiful architecture was the muggle government, and his mission that evening.

He heard the sharp crack of apparition into a nearby alleyway before he saw someone striding towards him. "Good evening, Emmeline" he offered, ever polite. "Have you been briefed on our mission here?" @notdelicatc

"But I've been so cruel to you. We've been so cruel to you, and to...Ted, never mind little Nymphadora. I wouldn't have blamed you at all if you'd said no, and left me to it," Regulus said, a slight wobble to his voice that he tried to pass off with a cough. "I'm glad I did too," he said with a small smile. "Just to set you at ease, this house is very strongly warded. Nobody can apparate or floo inside without a warning first, so if another of our relatives were to appear you would get enough warning to be able to disappear quickly. Nobody really visits me though, I wouldn't worry too much," he shrugged. He liked it that way - it kept his home private and comfortable, and he was more than happy to put in plenty of appearances at his parents house or his other cousins' various manors if it kept them away from his place.

Letting Andromeda take his hand, Reg squeezed back, desperate for the comfort that was being offered. He was silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to voice everything that had been going on. "I...don't think I'm on the right side any more," he gasped out eventually, the words tripping from his lips. "Merlin, I'm absolutely shit at it. I'm probably the worst Death Eater out there. But my ability, or lack thereof, has nothing to do with this. I just...y'know when something's just not sitting right, like in here," he said, gesturing to his chest. "But I'm marked, they made sure of that as soon as Sirius left. I'm just his replacement, the spare...and I'm fucking awful at everything, and the torture makes me sick...and I just....I don't know what to do."

Regulus let the words hang in the air for a moment, before figuring that he had already gone in with secrets that would kill him if she ever told anyone. "And...I've been seeing someone for a few months now. He's lovely. He's muggle-born."

“We’re family. I’ll always be here.” To her that meant regardless of the past, she would always be there for them. They may have wanted nothing to do with her after the choices she’d made, but it changed nothing for her. “And I’m glad you did reach out.” She made her way over to the couch and sat down, observing her surroundings as she waited for Regulus to return. It was so quiet, she only hoped there wouldn’t be any surprise guests while she was here. She knew how the Black family could be when it came to privacy after all. As he returned, her attention went to him. There was no missing the dark shadows beneath his eyes, he looked exhausted. Haunted perhaps would have been a more apt description, leaving her concerned for his well-being.

Without thought, her hand reached for his, an attempt to reassure and comfort him. “You know whatever’s going on that you can talk to me Reg.” Her eyes searched his, trying to understand what might be going on in that brain of his. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there, Become so tired, so much more aware. I'm becoming this, all I want to do, Is be more like me and be less like you.

@battle-scvrs

There was a emotional war going on inside Kingsley's mind, and no amount of sitting and thinking about it privately would do him any good. It was almost selfish of him, but Kingsley figured if there was ever a time to be selfish was now. He'd heard whispers that Sade was angling for more missions within the Order and he'd be a liar if he said that didn't terrify him. He would never presume that he could control Sade or what she did, but that didn't mean he couldn't heavily warn against it. Kingsley apparated onto Sade's doorstep, knocking once as a courtesy before he pushed the door open and walked in. He'd timed it knowing Jasper would already be in bed, which meant that hopefully he could talk to his sister with minimal interruptions.

"Sade?" he called, his voice low so as to not wake his nephew. "Sorry for dropping in unannounced, but I need to talk to you. Urgently." @sadeshacklebolt