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Honey and Sweethearts


The Lestrange mansion was modest compared to Malfoy Manor, but huge compared to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Regulus stared up at the stone columns that lined the front entrance as they passed through the gate. He followed Walburga and Orion to the front door and inside, passing by the house elf who had opened the door. Regulus smiled at the elf, but he didn’t smile back or even say anything, he just pushed closed the door behind them and scurried off to the kitchens. “Come in, come in!” sing-songed Bellatrix, who hopped and clapped as she saw them, “The Dark Lord’s right this way, right this way…” she looked positively ecstatic to have the chance to be ushering in fellow Death Eaters to her home, her eyes glistening with excitement. “The Dark Lord’s right in my parlor! Come, come.” She herded Regulus from the back.

The parlor was dark and spacious, one wall lined with inset shelving that was covered with artefacts of all sort. The Lestrange family went back many, many pureblood generations and they’d collected an impressive assortment of dark items, procured and preserved over the ages. The fireplace glowed, hot and orange, and a tall black chair held the Dark Lord, a snake curled and coiled across his lap as he stroked it. People were standing about in a semi-circle ‘round Voldemort, their eyes eagerly trained upon him, anticipating any move he made. Walburga put her hands on Regulus’s shoulders and squeezed them tight, holding him before her as though presenting him again to the Dark Lord.

Looking ‘round, Regulus noticed Severus Snape stood beside his mum, Eileen Prince, across the room. Eileen looked quite tired, her eyes bloodshot. Severus did, too, and he was fidgeting nervously.

Voldemort was looking upward, a grin playing across his face as he stroked the snake’s scaly head. Regulus turned, following Voldemort’s gaze and was quite shocked to see that, high up in the hollow of a vaulted ceiling was an iron cage, hanging in the center of a dome probably intended for a chandelier. This far more sinister use was being occupied by a woman who lay on the floor of the cage, shivering in the cold of the room.

There was another knock on the door and the house elf, who had just come in the room with a tray of tea that he placed on the table beside the Dark Lord before rushing to go and answer it.

Moments later, a shuffling sound preceded the entrance of an old man with a thick cane, composed of what appeared ot be a hundred tree roots, all tangled up together to form a thick knot toward the top. The old man used the cane to feel his way forward - he was the Blind Seer, and Regulus recognized him from the staff table at Hogwarts - the Divination teacher. Though Regulus hadn’t had Divination yet, it was very hard to miss Kostos Mopsus, whose reputation about the school was nothing shy of being legendarily terrifying. This was the closest Regulus had personally been to the seer.

“Welcome,” Voldemort bade him, “I’m most delighted you were able to come, seeing as you’ve turned down no less than four previous invitations.”

Mopsus had come to a stop at one side of the Dark Lord’s chair, “I have had important business to attend to,” murmured the seer.

“Such as working for Albus Dumbledore? Or perhaps you’re referring to the murder of Lyall Lupin?” asked Voldemort.

The Blind Seer did not respond.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and bring me the boy, Mopsus?” Voldemort hissed.

“I was under the impression that you would rather ensnare him,” Mopsus replied, “Seeing as you’ve hung your bait already…” The old man’s eyes travelled up to the cage. A pale, terrified face peered over the edge at him.

Voldemort looked up, then turned back to Mopsus. “How long must I wait?” he asked impatiently.

Mopsus was quiet a moment, the question processing in his mind… finally, he said, “Soon.”

“HOW SOON?” Voldemort roared, “You’ve told me soon for far too long, this is not SOON. SOON would have already come to pass!”

“Quite a lot of things are soon when you are my age, Tom,” said the Seer lowly.

Voldemort fumed.

“February. The boy will know in February, after, will come, but not alone. The most dangerous sort of magic shall be conjured, and you’ll be defied… a new enemy formed.” Mopsus’s milky eyes became even creepier as the irises beneath the white surface had rolled up into his head and now his eyes were completely blank, giving Regulus chills.

“But I will have the Boy?” the Dark Lord said.

“Peter Pettigrew will come,” Mopsus replied

There came a sob from the cage above their heads, great and gasping.

Voldemort looked up, “I don’t think our guest likes the idea of our conquest…” he cackled and he stood up, waving his wand and the cage lowered from the ceiling on a great chain and Regulus stared wide-eyed as a woman came into view, lying across the floor of the cage, rail-thin from under feeding, with dark shallow eyes and thinning hair. She had chapped lips and her skin was so awfully pale and hung loose about her face and hands. Voldemort leaned close to the cage, staring into the woman’s eyes coldly and he whispered, “Honey Pettigrew… are you afraid for what I might do to your son?” The woman sobbed. “Well… here’s a bit of a taste for you… Crucio.”

She let out a screaming cry that rocked the house and Bellatrix cackled and clapped, hopping excitedly foot-to-foot as she watched the woman writhe and shriek and convulse on the floor of her iron cage. “Oh yes Dark Lord, yes you know exactly how to show her who is the LORD!!!!” she cried.

Across the room, Severus Snape’s eyes turned away from Honey Pettigrew as she cried out in pain, his jaw set hard. He looked through the bars of the cage, and, seeing the tears forming in Regulus Black’s eyes, his throat flexing as though he were thinking of speaking… of telling Voldemort to stop…. Regulus looked up and his eyes met Severus Snape’s.

Make it stop… Regulus was thinking. Make it stop… It isn’t fair… it isn’t right… make it stop…

Severus shook his head ever so slightly…

There wasn’t a bloody thing either of them could do but wait for the Dark Lord’s amusement to end.




When James woke up, true to her word, Dora Potter had the yellow note card for him. “A lovely pair of girls stopped by to see you,” she said, picking it up from the table, “You were asleep and I thought it best not to wake you, but one of them left this behind for you. Alice and Lily, their names were.”

James, who’d been still a bit murky around the edges, eyes half closed, opened them quite wide and he took the card from her. “Lily?” he said, “Lily Evans? Red hair and the most greenest eyes you’ve ever seen?”

Dora raised an eyebrow, her lip quirking up just a wee bit in the corner, “That’s the one,” she said. She watched as James turned the card over in his hand and, without really thinking about how odd a move it was, he sniffed it carefully. Dora laughed. “Do we like this girl?”

James flushed and looked up at her. “Dunno if like is quite the word mum…” he said slowly. He bit his lip, thinking a moment, turning his attention back to the yellow envelope, then asked, “Did you like her?”

“She was very sweet,” Dora replied.

James nodded, “Yeah, she is.”

Dora’s eyes sparkled as she watched James slip his finger under the flap of the envelope, opening it up. “Is she your sweetheart?”

“Mum. Please.” James’s face flushed even deeper.

Dora leaned over and kissed his forehead, “I’ll stop asking questions.” She was just glad to see James being interested in something that wasn’t a quaffle.

“But you do like her? So you’d approve… if she was?”

“She was very sweet,” Dora replied again.

James took a deep breath.

“Have you asked her, honey?”

James scoffed. “Have I asked her! Oh mum. You have no idea how many times I’ve asked her.”

“She says no?” Dora looked appalled.

“Every time.”

“How could anyone say no to this face?” she asked.

James laughed, “She makes it seem quite easy, actually.” He’d opened the envelope and he pulled the card out. The card itself was blue and it had a bright yellow sunshine embossed on the cover with a pair of sunglasses and big grin on it’s face. He opened it up. Something fell out and onto his lap… The text read SMILE, SUNSHINE in big block letters. Beneath that, in Lily’s messy-girl printed handwriting, with little circles over the i’s instead of dots, was written:

I hope you get to feeling better, James. I’m sorry what’s happened, it’s all my fault. Perhaps sometime we could go to the cinema to make up for my being a git. As friends.

She’d underlined the word friends about twelve times and even used a highlighter on it to really make it stand out.

Let me know. Love, Lily.

Except she’d crossed out the word love even harder than she’d underlined the word friend and scrawled SINCERELY right above it.

James smiled. He reached for the item that had fallen out and onto his lap. He picked it up and turned it over. She’d clipped a newspaper page with a bunch of films that were coming out soon over the Spring and into the Summer and she’d highlighted and scribbled notes in the margins of the page.

Dora saw him grinning like he was - and she could tell by the way his upper lip had hung up on his tooth that he truly infatuated by this girl… After all, that silly half-grin was the one that he rarely let show unless he was truly smiling all the way to his very toes.