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Halloween


On Halloween, Regulus woke up to the sound of people shouting in the common room. He rolled out of bed and stretched, kicked on his slippers and went out to the landing of the stairs to see what was going on. The answer was that somebody had booby-trapped the door of the Slytherin common room with a good deal of skeletons that hung from the ceiling and had been bewitched to grab at the first years that had tried walking past them, and they’d been scared and now huddled in the common room shrieking as the bony arms stretched for Regulus as he stood in the doorway, having opened it up to investigate. “Oi you lot, it isn’t that scary!” he said, “Finite incantantum!” and with a mass of pops and cracks, the skeletons were reduced to nothing more than engorged, balled up bits of paper. He rolled his eyes, “See, look. Just some idiots playing a prank on you! They’ve only transfigured paper! Come and see… Look, just a prank, that’s all.”

And he had a feeling he knew exactly who it had been that had pulled it.

Divinia Weiss hugged Regulus’s side. “Are you sure it’s just paper?”

“I’m sure,” he promised. “Look.” He waved his wand again, blowing a gust of air that sent the balls of paper rolling away down the hall. “There, see?”

“You’re so smart you figured that out!” Divinia said, smiling up at him.

Regulus forced a smiled, and went back to grab his textbooks from his dormitory while the first years went off to the Great Hall.

In all fairness, it came out relatively quickly that it wasn’t only the Slytherins that had been boobytrapped into their common rooms. Every house, including the Gryffindors, had had the same skeletons hanging outside their doors. Sirius smirked as he walked down the halls, listening to various stories being traded by students that had been scared by them. “That was ruddy brilliant,” he told Peter, high-fiving the short boy, “Absolutely brilliant. And good one, James, thinking up the transfiguring paper part of the idea!”

James grinned.

Remus shook his head, “I’m going to be comforting first years for the rest of my foreseeable future.”

“Poor ickle seagulls,” James chuckled.

That evening there was a party in the Great Hall with music and loads of sweets and Hagrid’s huge pumpkins - which had made it through the inclement weather - were carved into great big scary figures with flickering candles in the eyes. The ceiling was bewitched with a lightning show and the ghosts all came out and danced in the air above the students and staff. They had candied apples and chocolate spiders and drank loads of pumpkin juice and glasses of “goblin sauce” which was really just cider transfigured to appear red as blood.

Sirius slapped a masquerade mask across James’s face and wore one himself with a long cape that draped over his shoulder. Peter even got into the spirit and transfigured a winter cap to be tall like a chef’s hat. “What’re you supposed to be?” Sirius asked Remus on the way downstairs.

“A prefect,” Remus replied, pointing at his badge. He was supposed to be “on duty” that night and watch over the younger kids to be sure they stayed out of trouble.

Sirius nodded, “Ohh, yes, that’s a very scary costume.”

Remus rolled his eyes.




In the Great Hall during the party, Regulus Black stood to one side of the Hall, watching the festivities that everyone was enjoying and sucking on a sour candy wand. He had tied a black mask around his eyes as well and had been mistaken for Sirius twice now - the first time he’d corrected the people saying hullo to him, the second time he’d just nodded a greeting back (it was easier that way).

Suddenly Maryrose was at his elbow.

He shifted uncomfortably.

“Why did you run off the other day?” she asked quietly.

Regulus looked down at his shoes, “Because. Things were… escalating… and I don’t think it’s a good idea. You and I. We’re not a good idea.”

Maryrose frowned. “Why not?”

“There’s a good deal of things you don’t know about me,” he said quietly, his voice rumbling in his throat, “And I think if you knew about them you wouldn’t want me anyway.” Regulus’s eyes moved over the crowd of students dancing and he saw Divinia and her sister Danae dancing together and laughing as they spun about. He smiled when Divinia waved to him and he waved back, then turned away to look at Maryrose, who was staring up at him expectantly. “It’s just not a good idea.”

Maryrose said, “I think you’re afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Being loved,” Maryrose replied.

Regulus said, “That would be stupid. Why would I be afraid of being loved?”

“I don’t think you’ve been loved properly before.”

Regulus stared at her for a long moment, then said, “I’ve been loved just fine. My mother loves me.” He turned back to the party.

Maryrose shrugged. “I’m sure she does, but I don’t know that she does it properly is all.” She studied him a moment, then asked, “Regulus, I know your family is dark, but I also know that you’re not and if that’s what you’re worried about then I ---”

“You don’t know that I’m not dark, alright? You don’t know that. I could be dark.” Regulus’s eyes bore into hers as he tried his very hardest to look as intimidating as he possibly could. “I happen to be a terribly dark wizard. One of Lord Voldemort’s strongest supporters.”

“Liar,” she said.

He stared at her. “Am I?”

“Yes. And it’s ridiculous. Why are you trying to push me away?” She searched his eyes, “I could feel it the other day. When we kissed. You kissed me back.”

Regulus said, “I could be trying to draw you in, trying to trick you into liking me so I can drag you back to Voldemort’s lair and let him kill you for the fun of it, for being a mudblood supporter.” He purposely used the harshest term he could.

Maryrose shook her head. “You aren’t.”

“What if I was?”

“Then I’d follow you blind.”

Reguuls sighed and looked over at the partiers, checked where the staff members were, then said, “Let me know you something Maryrose. And maybe this will convince you.” He took her by the hand and he led her out of the Great Hall and into the corridor of the dungeons, where the light was low and green and spooky. He pulled her to the stairwell before Slughorn’s office and he lit his wand, “Lumos.” He looked at her in the soft glow and he said, “Here. Look at this.” He stuck the wand in his mouth, holding it with his teeth, and raised the cuff of his left arm, showing her the blazing crispness of the Dark Mark against his pale skin. He thrust it toward her, expecting her to panic.

Instead, she stared at it for a moment’s pause, then she reached out her fingers and softly ran them along the skin that surrounded it. He watched her fingers move, wincing, afraid what might happen if she touched the tattoo itself, but she stayed carefully away from it. Finally, she looked up at him. “Did you ask for it?”

“No,” he said quietly.

“When did he do it?”

“I’m not sure. Sometime in January. I don’t remember it being done.” He stared at the Mark.

Maryrose reached for his sleeve and pulled it down to cover the tattoo. “It doesn’t change what I think of you, though, Regulus,” she said quietly.

“Why? It means I’m dark. It means I’m the enemy, I’m the bad guy. I’m the one everyone else wants to kill. I deserve to die, I help Voldemort.”

“Maybe you’re a spy. A secret agent. Like James Bond.”

Regulus stared at him.

“It’s incredibly brave.”

“I’m not…” Regulus whispered. “I’m just too scared to stand up for myself is all I am.”

Maryrose reached up a palm and ran it along his chin. “Scared to stand up for yourself… scared to love…” she shook her head, “Why are you afraid of all the good things, Regulus?”

He stared at her. “Dunno,” he whispered.

“Well, you should stop.”

He hesitated. “You aren’t afraid of my mark? Of what it means? Of Voldemort?”

Maryrose shook her head. Then, “I mean, I am. But I’m afraid for you, too. I really love you Regulus. And I think you’re a good person. A very good person. I think you care more about people than most people ever dream of knowing how to do.”

Regulus’s eyes were cast down.

“You’re not dark, Regulus. Whatever you’ve been raised to be.”

He looked up.

“Don’t cast yourself in the shadows when you are so obviously a light in the dark places.”

“You really think that of me?” He asked.

“I do,” she replied. “I absolutely do.”

Regulus kissed her.




Everyone had a brilliant time at the party, enjoying the music and the food and dancing. It didn’t stop when it was over, either. Upstairs, Sirius turned on The Monster Mash on his stereo in the common room in Gryffindor and the whole house partied on below, even late into the night, when the Marauders themselves sat about in their dormitory, laughing and throwing hunks of chocolate and candy floss about, telling ridiculous ghost stories with stupid puns for endings.

“I bloody love Halloween,” Sirius said, “I swear it’s the best fucking holiday there is.”




It was the middle of the night when high in the towers the doors on the balcony of Albus Dumbledore’s office were blown open and Fawkes the Phoenix let out a shriek as he came to land on the perch by the fireplace, his long plumes smoking daintily. He ruffled his feathers and watched as the same gust of air that had carried him in blew the curtains about and suddenly from amongst the fabric came Dumbledore himself. He walked swiftly into the office and looked around at the silver instruments and the darkness. He shot a spell at the hearth and it burst to life - crackling fire as though it had been running all along - and he nodded his greeting to the portraits behind his desk as they welcomed him back and he sat himself down at the desk and let out a long, draining sigh.

Dumbledore nodded.

It was good to be back.