• Regulus Black •

„It all begins and ends
in your mind."

Regulus had leaned back against the cold walls of the Malfoy Manor ballroom and wished that he could sink into them. He could adapt to his surroundings like a chameleon without attracting attention. As much as he had wished all these years to step out of his brother's shadow and be noticed, this now met him as a curse.

The disparaging looks of the guests at the wedding would probably haunt him for a long time, even into his deepest nightmares. He would still hear the unmistakable whispering even after it had long fallen silent. Like a tape, the words would repeat in his mind, drowning out what he still felt; grief. Grief at having lost his brother for good. Sirius would not return and possibly not give his old family a second thought, for he now had a new one.

The first few days had been particularly bad. Grimmauld Place had been so incredibly quiet, so incredibly empty, as if no one else lived there. Almost as empty as Regulus had felt deep inside, but his thoughts had screamed. Secretly, he had looked at the family tree with his own eyes, made sure his mother had actually brought it upon herself to burn her son out under her own name. She had.

Regulus had never dreamed that one day his brother would also be one of those people whose existence would only be indicated by a black, burnt and ugly hole. But the charred carpet and the soot that had come loose under his fingers as he stroked it had proved him wrong.

For a moment, the young Black had forgotten where he was and that his every move was being watched. But as soft piano music reached his ears, he became aware of the piercing stares once more. Regulus sighed, inwardly cursing his name, his brother, his fate. But he could change none of it.

While the grand piano played by itself, the attention of the guests was also drawn to the ceremony that was about to begin. Interested, the Slytherin looked ahead, but was searching for just one face; Camille. He didn't quite know what to make of her sudden disappearance just minutes before, but he tried not to worry too much about it. Maybe it had nothing to do with him.

Her brother had already taken his place. Next to his mighty proud-looking father, he had his hands clasped in front of his body and was looking forward expectantly, ready to receive his bride. Lucius, the perfect son of a pure-blooded family, who possessed the rare gift of being able to catch people's eyes and live up to his father's expectations. He did everything he could to cast a good light on his family and make them proud. Would Camille go as far?

While Regulus almost admired the young Malfoy, who obviously seemed to think a lot of himself, as he embodied almost everything that he himself was not, everything that the future husband triggered in Sirius was pure dislike. Not infrequently he had witnessed his brother audibly calling the blond a slimeball. But Regulus could not deny that he lived up to the Malfoy name; proud, elegant, arrogant. Qualities he could only wish for himself.

Before whispers about the last bridesmaid's whereabouts could dominate the room, Camille unobtrusively scurried to her seat beside the altar. With a charming smile she reassured the astonished faces of the guests. It was simply too beautiful to resist. But before Regulus could wonder himself where Camille had been so long, the grand piano intoned another tune and Narzissa was escorted into the hall by Cygnus.

His cousin embodied pure beauty. The white dress clung to her feminine curves like a second skin, her blonde hair had been worked into an elaborate hairstyle and in them were hair ornaments with stones in dark blue tones, which were also found in her eyes. One look at Lucius and the others present was enough to see that they were also overcome by her appearance. Some of the women were already in tears, so they pulled out their handkerchiefs and were probably glad to have sealed their make-up with a waterproof spell beforehand.

The priest asked for silence after the future couple had received each other and now went down on their knees to listen to his sermon. Even Regulus felt something stirring in his chest as the word of yes was spoken, for this marriage was no longer an arranged one and everyone present could see that in the eyes of the couple in love.

Touched, glasses were raised, clinking in the hands of those who clasped them, as Lucius and Narcissa opened the dance together, now as a married couple. Other couples quickly whirled around the floor and Regulus kept a lookout for Camille. He was unsure whether to ask her to the dance, after all, his family's name was not under a good star at the moment.

When the young Malfoy caught sight of him, the hint of a smile flitted across her pretty face and made Regulus start to move. He pushed his way through the collection of wizards and witches of pure blood to get to the blonde, but when he lifted his gaze from the expensive parquet again, she was already in company.

Dark blond hair framed the striking face of the young man whom Regulus thought he had never seen before. He didn't buy the charming smile on his lips, but his outstretched hand still seemed to tempt Camille to take it. She gave Regulus one last look. An apology, pity, mockery? How on earth had he thought she would dance with him? Her reaction before the ceremony should have already opened his eyes to the fact that she did not want to be seen with him at this feast.

Regulus earned indignant looks as he stood on the dance floor without moving a muscle of his face. But at that moment he did not know what to do with himself. His Adam's apple bounced as he gulped and looked at Camille and her partner. They looked like the gods the Muggles worshipped and he had heard a lot about them. Their bright hair shone in the candlelight as they twirled around, stealing the bride and groom's attention.

Jealousy ate Regulus up from the inside like a pesky parasite. When he saw how extremely pleased Abraxas Malfoy seemed to be about his daughter's choice of dance partner, everything inside him contracted and he wished nothing more than to be in the unknown's place.

Malfoy Senior raised his glass with a smile on his lips and more than a few did the same. Beautiful hands, young hands and old hands stretched into the air and Regulus noticed that even in his right pale one was still that which he had received at the reception. This one now seemed as distant to him as if it had happened in another life. The young Black emptied the glass without tasting anything. He had failed, as he had failed so many times before.

Unwanted images began to flash in his mind, images that nearly blew his mind. Camille and the boy at the altar instead of Lucius and Narcissa, looking at each other in love and making their parents proud. Beautiful blond heirs whose blood was as pure as real Elf-made wine.

His fingers tightened on the stem of his glass so that his knuckles stood out white. He could not lose any more.

In a matter of seconds, Regulus had made a decision that would normally have taken him weeks or even months. With his cloak flowing, he pushed his way through those present and turned his back on Camille, for he could no longer bear the sight of her. He didn't care that his father was talking when he found him holding his breath. "Father," he breathed, releasing all the pent-up air of freedom with just that one word.

The grey eyes of the man he was talking to looked at him indignantly at first, before his face took on a suspicious expression. Perhaps there was something in Regulus' gaze that convinced him that there was something important to talk about. "What is it, son?"

"I-I..." Regulus' eyes darted to his father's interlocutors, who had pricked up their ears with interest. He swallowed. "Could I have a word with you in private?"

Orion Black sighed. "Didn't your mother teach you not to interrupt important conversations? I'll be with you in a few minutes." His words were as sharp as knife blades and there was an unspoken threat in them which, in other circumstances, he probably would not have kept to himself. I hope for your sake that you have a good reason to embarrass me.

Nervously, Regulus waited for his father away from the guests, resisting the urge to knead his hands or tug at the hem of his dark festive cloak, for he knew how much his parents disapproved of this uncertainty. A little later, the head of the Blacks joined him and he seemed less than pleased as he hissed, "That's not proper and I'm sure we raised you better than that!"

"I want you to take me to the meetings," he suddenly blurted out, no less shocked at his own words than his father.

"You want what?" he laughed dryly, as if his son had just told a terrible joke. "You're not even sixteen, boy!"

Regulus lowered his eyes. "I know, but I want to show which side I'm on and why should I start when I reach a certain age? I want it now, Father."

The urgent emphasis in his voice, seemed to stir something in his father. For he placed a hand on his shoulder and Regulus thought for a second he saw something like pride flash in his eyes as he lowered his voice. "I appreciate your commitment, Regulus, but the dark lord will not be impressed with silly little spells from school."

"Let me prove it," Regulus breathed pleadingly, adding in his mind, "Let me prove it to everyone.

"Very well, I will see what can be done."

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