𝐢. puppet on a string

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FOR LACK OF a better term, Regulus was fucking livid

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....FOR LACK OF a better term, Regulus was fucking livid. Absolutely blood boiling, steam rising from the ears, teeth clenched, furious. And the thought of what he had to do in a few minutes time did nothing whatsoever to quell his anger.

It was uncharacteristic of him to be so affected by anything. Usually he was cool, calm and collected, so stoic that he seemed to border on emotionless. He enjoyed the icy cold much more than this burning rage.

When he had approached Mad-Eye with the subject of the Dark Lord's horcruxes a little over a week ago, he had expected to be freed from the shackles of this knowledge. A simple pat on the back and an easy "thank you for your services but you're still a filthy Death Eater so we'll take this mission off your untrustworthy hands."

He didn't care which side won, really. He didn't put much thought into blood purity nor stupid Gryffindor sentiments. All he cared about was himself. And so he decided that he didn't have to choose. If he was smart enough he could have loyalties on both sides and there would be no way he could lose.

But no.

He had underestimated how foolish this Order really was. Dumbledore had inserted himself into the situation, preaching about the importance of choosing the light and learning to fight his own battles. But Regulus didn't want to fight his own battles. He wanted for the world to stop expecting him to be anything more than an eighteen year old boy and to take away the responsibility of any battle at all.

And so he didn't get what he wanted. Instead he had gotten, "let me assign you to my team of child soldiers that you can work with on a mission that puts all your lives at risk."

Life had once again dealt him a shitty hand and absolutely nothing to pull him out of the situation he had gotten himself into. If he had been in a better mood he might've even made a terrible metaphor about being stuck in-between a rock and a hard place.

His thoughts taunted him as he paced back and forth before the fireplace in his childhood bedroom. He waited restlessly for the clock to strike midnight and for the Floo into the Order safe-house to open for a few moments.

UNIT THIRTEEN - regulus blackWhere stories live. Discover now