October 1979
PART I REGULUS
This.
This is good.
He should have been doing this from the beginning.
Should have been doing this years ago.
The potions make the world distant and soft. Everything in him just a little less sharp. A little less in focus. He wonders if this is how everyone else feels all the time? If this is how they're able to walk through life unafraid. Like their memories aren't something heavy they have to drag with them.
Days and nights blend, he's able to function enough. Enough to do what's expected of him. But he rarely goes to meetings anymore. Originally it was the thought of being in Lucius's house that made him stay away, now he just can't be bothered.
Grimmauld remains largely empty aside from him and Kreacher.
Evan visits from time to time, Barty less, Cerci when she can get away from her job and her mother who has grown profoundly unhappy with their relationship, as it becomes more and more apparent that it won't be ending in a marriage proposal. But most of the time it's him. Just him. Rooms left dark, left empty, the house starting to curl in on itself, like a plant that can't find the sun. Kreacher does his best to tend to it but it's no use, and Regulus is certainly not helping.
"Master Regulus is not eating enough," the house elf mutters one day as he watches Regulus poking reluctantly at his dinner. "Is it being Kreachers fault sir? Is he not making it right? Is there something wrong with Master Regulus's meals?"
Regulus looks up at him and manages a weak smile. "Your cooking is excellent as always Kreacher, I'm just not...hungry."
Kreacher throws a dish towel in the air in frustration. "But you is never being hungry anymore!"
Which is true. The potions fill him up and make food so much less appealing, his taste dulled. It's all just mush.
"I'll eat more, I promise," Regulus says as he shovels a fork full of pasta into his mouth, but when Kreacher turns his back Regulus vanishes the rest of his plate.
"Are you sick?"
He blinks, coming back to himself, sitting on his bed while Cerci stares at him with worried eyes. He isn't sure how much time has passed between this conversation and the one with Kreacher.
Is it the next day? Is it two days later? A week? He's aware that some time has passed, obviously, it's just the specifics that his mind doesn't quite seem able to hold onto.
"Regulus?"
"Sorry," he mutters, rubbing at his face. "Sorry, I'm just tired."
Cerci doesn't look like she believes him. "I think you need a Healer, my family knows a good one, I can take you right now, I have the whole afternoon free—"
"No, I don't want that," he knows he sounds cranky and he doesn't mean to be, but he can't help it. "I'm fine. I told you I'm fine."
"I know what you've told me," it's the first time he thinks he's ever heard her sound irritated. "But you're lying, and not even very well."
He sighs, flopping down onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. A few seconds later the mattress dips and Cerci sits next to him, face hovering above his.
She bites on her lower lip. "I'm worried about you."
"That's a waste of energy."
She rolls her eyes. "Right, okay well, I'm going to do it anyway."
