Severus paused, eyeing the woman before him with quiet consideration before he simply set the tea down in front of her and took a seat. He already knew the situation was dire – nothing short of drastic circumstance would have Petunia turn to him of all people, so he did not make light of her words. Instead, he simply offered what small and meager comfort available to him, and folded his hands on the table.
His lips thinned as his thoughts raced, attempting to find the most appropriate response and finding that he quite lacked in propriety here. He had never thought to ask Lucas or Eric how one was meant to respond to the scenario of another needing assistance, because frankly – it had never occurred to him that he would be approached for such matters.
In the end, he chose the only words he had, the ones he knew his mother would have used were she the one in his place at the moment ( and oh, how much better she would be than he at offering assistance and care, as her heart was full despite all she suffered, while his had come out brittle and ugly instead )
“If you need a place to stay, I will not deny you that. You’re welcome here as long as you need, until you can get back on your feet.” Which he did not doubt she would – both because she was too fierce to stay low long, and his company would surely wear her out swiftly.
“Perhaps,” Severus agreed quietly, “But even I make an effort to encourage their dispersion, rather than grant them such control over me.” His words were only partially true – while he did often find outlets to unleash his more untamed emotions, there were times when his control would falter and something in him would snap in a most dangerous fashion. The reason he pushed so hard for internal control was the deep, harrowing awareness that the loss of that control was a devastating matter and would rarely leave him in the wake of it without a well of regret alongside.
“What is troubling you?” Though he rarely spoke often of what twisted inside of himself, it was his experience – however small and fleeting – that the common belief of working things out with others did not entirely lack in substance. “Maybe I can help.”
It didn’t escape him that the other looked uncomfortable but Regulus, so acquainted with luxury, assumed that it must be the situation that made him so uneasy.
The reality was beginning to bite into his skin as well. So many things he had imagined for himself, none of them this. All of them out of reach. He had known it was dangerous to dream and allowed himself to do so, anyways, as the last flickers of boyish hope held their grasp on him.
Regulus listened patiently, silently to Severus’ own version of their marriage and while it was not very far from what he’d posed, there was such an isolated finality to his description. Two souls in a shared space and nothing more, with miles of emptiness between them though they stood feet apart.
That was best. That was safest. The farther away Severus was, the less he would notice.
It was not until Severus’ last remark that Regulus’ coldly-maintained exterior broke and he tossed his head down into the inside of his elbow, releasing a series of sounds that crossed somewhere between laughter and a dreadful cough. He hid his face down near his lap where he bent almost double, balancing his free hand against his thigh for support.
“I’m not—I’m not, I’m not—” he pulled his arm away from his face, now red (it was more color than he usually had) and turned an incredulous look of amusement over to his companion, “That’s not the type of physical encounter I was thinking of, and it’s certainly not something I’d—sweet Merlin’s beard, Sev, please.” Was he serious?
“Yes. Good. Fine. No objection from me, to any point. Ahh—ghmm,” he recomposed himself with a clear of his throat and a loosely-closed fist against his chest, straightening his shoulders back to their unusually fine posture.
“Would it be unfair of me to try and impose ‘don’t look so miserable’ as a house rule?”
Severus was unmoved by Regulus’ display when he made his ultimatum, knowing full well that what was said now in a moment of calm and what could occur when tempers flared would differ dramatically. His words were a promise – neither threat nor warning – and if the other man wished to laugh it off for now so be it. He would learn beyond a shadow of a doubt how serious Severus was if he chose to use him in any manner as an outlet for his aggression.
When he ceased laughing enough to speak, Severus remained impassive, simply raising a brow. He’d laid his law and that was enough by his estimation. It would be quite pleasant if this proved true in the end, but all Severus knew of marriage indicated it would not. After about six years, it would grow violent if his own parents were any indication – and there had been nothing forcing his mother to stay. He’d be damned if he didn’t fight back, seeing as he was under legal obligation not to leave.
Still, if they both kept to their laws and the distance they enforced, Severus liked to think this might not be too horrific a life.
Of course, Regulus couldn’t just leave it at that. The follow up remark earned an unimpressed stare, before Severus responded flatly, “I am not going to change who I am to please you. If you dislike my face, I have no problem leaving the room so that you may be free of looking at it.”
“If you mean that, I could give you a few choice remarks that would expedite the process.” He was familiar with his mother’s triggers. There were certainly enough of them.
Regulus wasn’t insulted. It was the difference between expectation and reality. Regulus expected an arranged union, but he was nonetheless unprepared for… this. This individual out of all possible individuals with whom he could have, should have been paired.
Would it bring more damage to his name to reject what he had been given, or accept it and live with the results?
“Firstly—” he lifted one leg to cross over the other at the ankle, folding his hands neatly against his lap, “I’d appreciate you abandoning whatever mental image it is you may have in your head of marriage. I enjoy some large manner of privacy. You can do whatever you like in your bedroom, as mine will be down the hall. I don’t expect you to take meals with me, nor do I imagine any significant form of… physical… er.
“—heghmm, in short, I’ll not be expecting anything from you—and if you’ll expect anything of me, I’d like to be told up front.”
Severus said nothing, but made a mental note to ask at a later date, just in case. It might be useful to know, if nothing else. He held silent and still when Regulus sat down, before shifting so he was leaning against the wall – adopting a casual air without getting himself anywhere near the finery upon which the other boy so easily draped himself. He was half certain the couch alone was roughly the cost of his entire house – the idea of sitting on it was practically anxiety inducing.
After the other had made his position known, Severus raised a brow quite high, before remarking, “It is my intention to be as scarce as possible. Although you say to abandon my mental image of marriage, it seems what I intend suits. I shall continue to attend to my business, which will largely keep me out of the house in any case considering the hours I intend to be working, and I have no intentions of being present for any function you do not demand my presence for.”
Crossing his arms, his eyes narrowed slightly, before he stated flatly, “I don’t give a damn what physical activities you seek to engage in, or with whom you do so. Personally I would rather not be touched at all, but know that if you strike me, I will strike back twice as hard. Beyond that, I care little for what is done in that regard.”
“It’s best not to give them the suggestion.” Regulus wasn’t confident that either one or the other wouldn’t take it for the sake of protecting their perfectly superior lineage. “If you’re really looking to protect yourself, you might try thinking a little more simply. I’m not sure either of my parents would take to ingenuous methods of familial purification. You’re more likely to catch a quick Unforgivable to the back.” Direct. Clean.
The parents would be horrified. Here they were, miles from his home and Regulus thought he could hear the echoes of his mother’s voice shrieking in the distance.
The son was less disturbed. He had lived a long enough life of doing what was expected of him to understand that, sometimes, one’s life did not belong to oneself. He adjusted his posture at the question, fussed with the buttons on his coat and tried not to look as affected as he was by the situation. “Me? Fine. There are plenty of other things I’m more concerned about than this.” Implying some level of concern.
“Besides. I don’t really think it’ll truly sink in until we start discussing… ground rules.”
“No offense, but that’s actually rather tempting at this point.” It wasn’t that he disliked Regulus that much – it was simply that marriage was something he never deigned to consider for himself, nor was it something he actually wanted. It was a death sentence, for better or for worse.
He huffed somewhat in agreement at the point there were worse things to worry about, though when the other mentioned ground rules, he couldn’t help but look over with a raised brow. Frankly he was intending to be as scarce as humanly possible – but as it was, Regulus was undoubtedly the superior of the two of them, which naturally meant, “By all means, you might as well get those out of the way now lest I do something unfavorable in my ignorance.”
“Yeah, sure. Assuming your parents don’t kill me for being unworthy somewhere along the way,” Severus replied perhaps too blandly, given the subject matter. “Unfortunately for them, I am very good at identifying curses and poisons, so it’s going to take some ingenuity on their part.”
Finally looking over at the other, he hesitated a moment then asked, “How are you holding up, anyway?” It must have been devastating to see who he was paired to, and Severus could hardly fault him for that, all jokes aside.
“Forgive me – which word, exactly?” Severus ignored Destin’s elbow digging none too subtly into his ribs, “Just so I don’t make the mistake again, was it sorry or no you don’t want to hear again going forward?”
Frankly, Severus might have said more if he didn’t feel the sharp and unquestionable point of a blade pressing against his spine in warning. Personally he thought this was all a bit – ridiculous. The self proclaimed Dark Lord had asked if they had acquired something Severus didn’t even know they were meant to be looking for, and he’d replied very succinctly, so as far as he was concerned his rejoinder was not only pointed, but valid.
For all they knew, the Dark Lord really hated apologies. Maybe he preferred results over empty words. How the fuck were they to know if they didn’t ask?
Alright, in all fairness to the blade at his back – he probably could have asked that in a better way.
Severus was silent, but when it appeared to him that none would speak, he chose to throw caution to the wind rather than risk the Lord’s temper being misplaced. “I am afraid our team wasn’t present when it was acquired.” Better to say that than presume it had been either Bellatrix or Barty’s crews, which had come before them. However, rather than risk the wrath of either raid leader he added a little too mildly, “Jugson was just leaving when we arrived – perhaps he knows.”
I hardly need to look,Severus thought, eying Regulus thoughtfully. He didn’t know the other well enough to speak his true mind on matters, but he couldn’t help the sympathy he felt, nor the pity. With emotions that open, Regulus was painting himself into a dangerous corner.
“It would not matter,” The response, when it came, was carefully chosen and level, making it clear that Severus was not willing to fall into dramatics, “Whether sickened or not, I know my place and I will adhere to it.” The question he dare not ask hung heavily in the air between them, before he looked away.
I suppose servitude doesn’t suit him, he mused, wondering, not for the first time, how Voldemort had managed to lure in so many proud purebloods to the point not a one would dare stand up for themselves.
“Honestly?” Severus had already said that – but then he supposed she hadn’t really been paying attention in the beginning. Handing her the vial she would need for their guest he carried on as though he hadn’t questioned her at all, “Last week – I suppose Randall’s absence was inconspicuous enough to go unnoticed, but that does leave us with one less Ministry mole. Mind you only use half of that, by the way,” He added almost as in afterthought, “Any more and he’ll cease to be coherent enough to be of any use to us.”
Severely Archived 