Starry skies and Gardenias

Chapter 179

The Dark Lord was furious. 

And so was his snake. 

The Death Eaters were all stiff in their seats, shoulders tense as the snake writhed around their legs, slithering under the table, furiously hissing.

Regulus knew why. The snake was a Horcrux, hence whatever Voldemort was feeling, it would too. They are pieces of the same soul. 

Regulus had come across a little parchment that Peter had procured from the room they had kept shut for weeks. 

It was just Isabella's scribbles. 

Regulus couldn't stand looking at it for more than a minute, and then he was gone. He felt like he was suffocating to death. It seemed a habit of hers to just doodle on the margins as she thought. 

Sirius had to fill him in on what was actually on the parchment. 

It was a sort of chart, where she was calculating the amount of human Voldemort had left in him. It was a terrifying little. 

Regulus had never seen her do any of that. The things she had done, to him, they were always verbal. She had told him what she was going to do, or at least he had seen some sort of physical evidence, like the potions she was brewing. 

And that's all he thought it was. But Isabella had done more than that. 

And what crushed Regulus was that he was never there for her. She willingly took on the weight of the world onto her shoulders and he stood there, ignorantly and watched. 

If he could go back in time, he'd do it all right this time. If he could just go back in time to see her once more, tell her everything he wanted to say. 

"It's the same people all the time, my lord," Lucius Malfoy's voice said, bringing him out of his reverie.

"So, I have heard, Lucius," Voldemort said coldly.

They had managed to unmask many of the people in the inner circle. The Lestranges, Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle, Rowle. 

And this was sending panic into their group. Voldemort worked with anonymity, he had people working for him from the shadows, but suddenly his spies were being weeded out. 

"My lord," Snape's raspy voice said two seats away from Regulus' and he felt the blood rising to his ears again. 

"Lupin is a werewolf," 

Regulus bit the inside of his cheek to restrain himself from jumping to his feet and punching the shit out of that bastard. 

"Even if we were to corner them, a full moon would be for the best, since one of them won't be around,"

Voldemort's eyes darkened.

"They don't seem affiliated with the Order of the Phoenix, my lord," Bellatrix said, from near the head of the table.

"It is always the same five,"

Seven, Regulus thought bitterly. It was seven of them. 

"My lord," Regulus said, just to throw bait. He found out that he liked seeing the flickering fear in Voldemort's eyes. 

The Dark Lord's snake-like face turned to him, his eyes daring him to say something stupid and be treated as his snake's dinner.

"The five you speak of," Regulus said. "They've all been very close to the. . .mudblood,"

There it was.

It was momentary, but Voldemort's slit-like nostrils had flared and his eyes dilated. He had been cautious of Dumbledore, even afraid. But here was a dead mudblood who seemed to be throwing everything into shambles, from beyond her grave.