Forget-Me-Not → Regulus Black

The Dark Mark

The days seemed to be going by quickly for Regulus Black. Time had already passed by incredibly swiftly that he hadn't had much time to even prepare for the inevitable pain that he would have to endure that afternoon. Rosier, Mulciber, and Avery were in his room; trying to muster all the courage they possibly could before dinner that day. Compared to his usual cool and collected self, Rosier seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Mulciber and Avery — who were usually the most carefree of the group — would flinch whenever someone spoke too loudly. Regulus stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering what it would have been like if he had run away. But it was too late now.

"Come down!" Regulus' mother yelled. While her voice would usually be cold and unfeeling, this time it sounded sickly sweet; the same voice she would use whenever Sirius was in trouble. Regulus gulped.

They stood up and slowly made their way to the dining room. The large wooden table took most of the space in the room, and everyone was seated there, awaiting them to join — increasing the suspense by tenfold. Orion and Walburga were sitting patiently in the chairs facing the doorway; both wearing identical grins. 

"Sit."

Rosier, Mulciber, Avery, and Regulus exchanged one last fleeting glance with one another, before sitting down in their assigned seats.

"The Dark Mark," said an almost unhuman-like voice. "You know how it works, I assume?"

Regulus turned to Voldemort; trying to keep his face as neutral as possible as he looked right into his crimson eyes. "Of course."

"Of course what?"

Regulus scrunched his nose in confusion, "Yes we know how the Dark Mark works?"

Rosier audibly coughed, trying to silence him from continuing. "Yes, my Lord."

"But we didn't even get it yet—"

"I'll not be spoken to like that!" Voldemort said viciously. "This is an honor, you'll address me as I please, whether or not you have the Mark as of yet."

 "'This is an honor, you'll address me as I please, whether or not you have the Mark as of yet'," Mulciber mimicked to Avery, trying to stifle his laughter. Rosier elbowed their sides, clearly displeased.

It was just then that Regulus noticed his cousin. Bellatrix was watching the ordeal with heavy-lidded eyes. She shot Regulus a look, mouthing words soundlessly in an attempt to keep him quiet.

"Now," began Voldemort, "I will do the honors." He took out a long, bone-like wand before gesturing Rosier to come. "You first."

Rosier got up from the table and hastily made his way over. Voldemort pointed his wand to his inner left forearm. At first Rosier said nothing, before he let out a loud gasp of pain. Soon an intricate colossal skull with a tongue protruding out of its mouth was visible on his skin. Voldemort really did take house pride to a level that neither Regulus nor Sirius could exceed.

Now Voldemort pointed to Avery, an almost sinister smile on the former's face. With trembling hands Avery got to where he was sitting. He scrunched his eyes when Voldemort pointed his wand to his pale skin, letting out a loud yelp as he did so. He came back, rubbing his sore arm in an attempt to soothe the pain away.

It was Mulciber's turn now. He began walking almost jadedly to him, and when he looked at Voldemort his face contorted to ill-disguised disgust. Voldemort looked almost offended.

"Finally it is time. Regulus Black, the long-awaited."