blood must shed for time to reset

chapter 20

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( fate extends its hand and seizes. )

—REGULUS SAT BEFORE A
group of people, all clinging to his word. There was Circe's mother, her girlfriend, and of course, the marauders ( & co ). The first thing that'd happened when he poured into the Potter household was a lengthy embrace between him and Sirius, where the older boy released all of his built-up feelings.

It would've been a cardinal moment, if Circe wasn't chained to Praesidium.

He'd wanted to stay at the organisation, to fight and fight until he reached her. Until they could feel their skin overlap. But, he'd suffered a gash across his leg, when one of Philomena's spells hit his calf, and thus he was sent to the floor... basically immobilised. He'd clawed out of the place, apparated, and stumbled to the Potter home.

   He must've spent a week in recovery, trying to squirm out of the blockages Euphemia and Fleamont put over him. He just wanted to see Circe, and yet he was refused this desire. He had to recover. How bittersweet? He was allowed to heal as she suffered. Ironically cruel.

    When his limbs were back to their full potential, he began to converse on what to do moving forwards. Regulus could retrace every word from what Circe'd said, just before they had left for Praesidium. However, he didn't care. No matter what, he was going in for her. When the roles were reversed, the Einar did everything to save him, and this favour would never go unnoticed.

  "I'm going back for her." he demanded, not sparing room for them to object. His mind was set on this, and who was to deny him? Not even Sirius could argue against this foolish plan; if it was Remus, he'd be in Regulus' exact position.

  It was to be expected.

   Circe's mother cradled a missing arm, being one of the effects of the revolt. After the founding men had been slaughtered, the rest of the organisation went into a state of chaos. Though as soon as they stepped out of the building, their minds went blank, and they lost everything.

  Their lives were erased.

  The only reason the people before him hadn't suffered the same fate was because they'd foretold this magic. The couple had took a dusty broomstick, masked as a cleaning object, and fled the scene without touching soil. Only once they were near the Potter's household did they lower themselves and begin to walk.

  Circe and Mateo had been given special injections to prevent memory loss, and later, Regulus received this medication by Azima, just before he escaped. It was a lucky gesture, and whilst unknown substances lingered in his veins, he didn't seem to mind.

   And, maybe it was better that the staff didn't remember their pasts. For they were all the products of manipulation.

  Ignorance did prove to be a bliss!

  Fleamont and Euphemia had been exposed to the truth. Clearly. When two women, doused in white, showed up at their door.... it was hard to mask the truth any longer. So they idled knowingly, and it seemed they weren't the only ones minutes away from awarness.... Dumbledore. It wouldn't be long, with Xena also aware, to read her mind and piece together the enigmatic jigsaw.

   Everything was, truly, fucked!

   "I'm coming with you." Azima rose, her face sturdy and her posture resolute. "There's no talking you out of it, and you will need some protection. Plus, I know Praesidium like the back of my hand."

  So after a week and three days, the pair set off once more. The goodbyes bidded this time were brief, painful, subdued. Nobody knew what might happen, and it seemed hope was diminishing as the moments slipped on.