Diptych

Chapter 9

A week after his latest run-in with Potter, Regulus had all but forgotten about it. He'd given up his assessment of Slytherin's family tree shortly after concluding that there was no more a 'Tom' on there than there was a 'Regulus' or a 'Sirius', and so had very little reason to think back on that particular trip to the library. Their paths crossed ever less as Regulus spent more and more time writing in the diary and off the Quidditch pitch, thankful the matches were over not only for the reason to stay out of the cold but also for the fact that he ran into his brother far less in those days.

One night at the end of October, Regulus was tucked away in one corner of the owlery writing in the diary. Of all the places he'd found to do so, the owlery was one he'd been trying to avoid as the leaves began to fall and the rain clouds rolled in. Still, it seemed fated that he should be there when his owl began to tap impatiently at his head with her beak, a rolled scroll tied to her foot. He knew it was unlikely to be anything of importance, both from the hour it was sent and also from the fact that it was on a scroll, not tucked away in an envelope and sealed with wax as most of his important correspondence was. After chastising the bird and detangling her claw from his now knotted hair, he carefully unfurled the scroll, diary having been pushed to one side. It read,

Regulus,

When I said that you ought to write me at your earliest convenience, I had rather expected it to be sooner than now. Having been at Hogwarts for several years myself, I know just how much free time you must have about now. I can only assume that you're still enjoying your birthday gift as much as you were when we last spoke, though it seems you still haven't said much on the subject to Severus. He is somebody that you can trust, you know.

I can't write anything particularly long at present, important business to attend to, but I ask once again if you have made any decision on the matter we last spoke of, joining Severus and I in the manner that I know you will understand. Write back to me as soon as is (physically!) possible.

Lucius.

Frankly, Regulus had rather been enjoying the silence on Lucius' part. He'd heard no more about the mark Snape had taken, and had no real desire to. While he'd been meaning to bring the whole thing up to Tom once more, their conversations had always turned to something more trivial or altogether interesting and Regulus had never found himself doing it. But with Lucius' note in his hand and nothing to do but respond to it, he finally had his motivation. Regulus tucked the note beneath his knee and instead reached for the diary. His fingers were stiff from the cold and he knew that he ought to get back to the castle soon, but the common room was far nosier than when the sun had graced the grounds, and the library far busier with tests approaching. If he was going to write to Tom, it had to be out of sight.

Tom, I know that you said you don't know your future any better than I know mine, but at sixteen you must have some idea of what you're going to do when you leave Hogwarts?

Is there any particular reason you're asking — thinking of your own future perhaps?

Am I really so transparent?

Of course not. Tom wrote back, and Regulus had to imagine the comment accompanied by a smirk. Before Regulus could write any more, he added, I like to think we've got to know one another pretty well by now.

Lucius wants me to join a group that he's a part of — it's sort of a big commitment.

And you don't want to?

I don't know.

To be completely honest, Regulus didn't know what he was supposed to think about it. For most of his life, he had been happy enough to think what he had been told to think. That was, until he started getting such conflicted messages from the people he trusted and cared about. His mother and father wanted only what was best for the family. Lucius and Bellatrix assured him that this, taking the mark and becoming one of them, was what was best for the family. And as a child, he'd have had no reason to doubt their judgement. But at sixteen, he also knew what Sirius would say about it, how vehemently he'd be opposed to it, and that put enough of a doubt in Regulus' head that he found it difficult to give Lucius a straight answer. He wanted to be good, to have them approve of his decisions. But he also didn't want to do anything that would make Sirius hate him any more than he already did. Especially something he knew he wouldn't be able to retract.