The Long Lost Black

Breaking Point

Hours, days, and weeks passed in late-night strolls, alcohol and ice-cold baths. The Slytherin Outfit wasn't the same anymore. Merlin, how could they be? They had just lost one of them forever. " 'Till death do us apart ". That's what they were drinking to at the end of their fifth year. It seemed so far back then. Fuck, it should be far! They weren't even out of Hogwarts yet. They were just kids! Just kids... No matter what Voldermort was planning with recruiting such young ages. No matter what Dumbledore believed, they truly were only a bunch of schoolboys. Schoolboys that thought they were too big for the world (*cough cough* Marauders *cough cough*). God, how wrong they were. How small they actually were in front of what was taking place outside Hogwarts' protective walls.

Elaisa was the first to realize how big the world actually is, at a very young age -bloody De Vils, bloody Durmstrang- but now it was like she didn't care. What was it she had said? "Live it as long as you fucking can".

Regulus was next. He had been attending meetings before May 16th, 1977 but now it was different. He had the mark and he seemed to drift more and more away from the Marauders and the Slytherins too, and into the madness. He didn't talk with anyone of his friends during the dreadful summer, locked in his room trying to scratch away the mark, the filth, outta him and leaving the house only to attend the most important meetings and his bloody fucking missions that made him hate himself even more than he already did if that was even possible. 

The Marauders were next in line. They grew up. They realized that life is not just a big prank, an adventure. An ironically bright night under the light of the full moon at the end of the year, on a prank Sirius pulled on Snape and went terribly wrong, they learned that life was, instead, a big battlefield. With the fear of Remus' "furry little problem" being exposed, with the guilt that the night could have led a fellow student to his death, Sirius, James and Remus realized the true colours of pretty much everything, to be honest. Yes, they weren't on talking terms for a time being but they managed to find their way back to each other, or Elaisa did.
Obviously.

Their summer was boring, dark and melancholic. (Wait, are we still talking about the Marauders? Unfortunately, yes) Regulus'... "whatever the noun is, I don't care," was too heavy for them to bare. James and him managed to provide themselves with some stolen moments but it wasn't the same.  Who am I kidding? Evan is gone, Regulus is slipping through their fingers, Peter distances himself, Remus is insecure, Sirius is about to fall into depression, Elaisa has put her walls back on, Barty loses himself slowly and James is in the middle of everything when fate seems to favour the dark side of the war. 

Everything was going to shit and shit was going to everything. Don't let me start about June 25th, Regulus' sixteenth birthday. The day was like it had come right out of a horror movie. Drinking, smoking, yelling, throwing, breaking, crying and one almost suicide by a sickly romantic James. It wasn't pretty. I swear, not even Bellatrix would enjoy the scene and that tells a lot. 

On August 1st, Elaisa informed the Potters about what was supposed to be hers and Regulus' mission. The mission. The one that has been haunting Regulus since it was assigned. The one that they were afraid to tell Alex about. Theo one they have been given exactly four months ago and it was about to take place. The one where Mr and Mrs Potter were the bloody targets. 

Of course, Elaisa had made arrangements so neither Sirius nor James would find out about this. Mia and Flea took the news way better than Elaisa expected. They just nodded, thanked her for telling them and later the same night, when all the kids were asleep, they discussed the issue by whispering in the kitchen. Brave. That is the only word Elaisa found fitted enough to describe them the best.

To sum up, everyone was broken in one or another way.