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Evan was surprised when Regulus showed up on his doorstep – or, more accurately, came through his Floo – looking wild-eyed and uncharacteristically ill-composed. Before Evan could so much as open his mouth, Regulus had him by the shoulders, eyes boring into his.
“Did you mean it?”
Evan blinked. He meant everything he said to Regulus – unlike he did with anyone else, save maybe Felix – but… “Mean what, exactly? What’s going on?”
“That you’d do anything for me.”
“Of course I did. Do,” he corrected. “Anything.”
“Even treason?” Regulus swallowed. He didn’t avert his gaze; there was a manic note to it that unsettled Evan deeply, but Evan didn’t look away, either.
What he did do was take a deep breath and cast a series of privacy charms – good ones, so absolutely no one could overhear anything. “Anything,” he repeated. “Even treason.”
Regulus’s eyes widened in what Evan could only assume was disbelief. It made Evan feel a bit hurt. But then… had Regulus ever known trust? Genuine, uncomplicated trust? Evan thought he knew the answer, and it made him want to hex Walburga and Orion Black both into the next century.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Evan said instead of addressing that. Regulus was here, asking him for help. At least… Evan was fairly sure that was what he was doing. Regulus didn’t typically beg him for reassurance.
Regulus closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, he said, “The less you know, the better.”
“Regulus,” Evan said softly.
“It’ll put your life in danger.”
Evan was sure he wasn’t exaggerating – not when they were talking about treason, of all things – but he still said, “I don’t care,” and reached up to brush Regulus’s hair from where it had fallen into his face. “I want to know the whole truth.”
Regulus searched his face. “Fine. But you should sit down.”
He looked deadly serious, so Evan nodded and sat down on the edge of his bed. Regulus still stood in front of him, visibly tense. Whatever this was was more than a change of heart, or a difficulty doing what was asked of him.
“He’s using a Horcrux,” Regulus whispered.
The very word sent a shudder through Evan. He knew what a Horcrux was – his Great-Aunt Vinda once bemoaned Grindelwald’s reluctance to use one, claiming if he had, he would have won the war. Evan had asked his father for more details, and – now it all made sense, how his father knew so much.
He must have known about the Dark Lord’s plans.
“Evan?”
“Are you sure?” Evan met his gaze.
He found nothing but determination. “Positive. A-and I know how to find it. I need your help destroying it.”
“And then what?”
Regulus looked away. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
“I’m with you, whether that means staying or fleeing or anything else.” And he was, Merlin help him. He’d do anything Regulus needed without him ever having to ask – and right now, he was asking. “But we need a plan. Treason isn’t the sort of thing we should play by ear.”
“I wasn’t even sure you’d help me.”
Evan tried not to take offence. Again: it wasn’t Regulus’s fault that he had such a difficult time with trust. “Of course I will. I told you: anything. I mean it. So let’s make a plan. Together.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Evan assured him. He reached for him and pulled him close. Regulus let him, slowly relaxing into his arms. “We’ll sort it out,” Evan said softly. “I love you so much, Reg. I’ll always be by your side. I promise.”
“I love you, too,” Regulus murmured. Just like last time, it sent an absolute rush through Evan. Maybe one day he’d get used to hearing it, but he was sure he’d never take it for granted.
Evan buried his face in the crook of Regulus’s neck and breathed him in. There was nothing more comforting than the scent of him; than the beat of his heart assuring Evan that he was there. They were alive, and Evan was going to keep it that way.
He wasn’t typically much of a planner – that was definitely more Barty’s forte – but this had to be perfect. It wasn’t like they could ask Barty for help; he could never know. He’d betray both of them without a second thought.
No; this had to stay between Evan and Regulus. No one else could know their plans. Anyone on their side would betray them, and no one on the other side would believe them. They were alone – but they had each other.
“We can’t go to the Ministry,” Evan said flat out.
“Of course not. Crouch, Sr. would throw us in Azkaban without listening to a word we said.” He sighed. “Not Dumbledore, either. I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I. He’d ask us to risk our lives and then hand us over anyway once we’ve outlived our usefulness.”
Regulus hesitated. Evan thought he might have an idea why – an idea of what he was thinking – and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He didn’t trust Sirius Black any more than he trusted Dumbledore – Regulus’s brother or not. Especially not after Sirius abandoned Regulus to go live with James Potter.
“Just tell me,” Evan said.
“I think we should tell Sirius.”
There it was. Was there a kind way to say absolutely fucking not? On the off chance Sirius believed Regulus, he’d never tolerate Evan’s inclusion. He’d much rather feed Evan to the wolves. He was probably already chomping at the bit for the chance, really.
“Ev,” Regulus said. “Tell me the truth.”
“I don’t trust him,” Evan said. He met Regulus’s gaze evenly. “I know he’s your brother, but I don’t.”
Regulus swallowed. Evan could see the conflict behind his eyes. He didn’t know what to do about it.
“I love you,” Regulus finally said. “But… I really think Sirius would help. What do you suggest? Fake our deaths and abscond to East Germany or Cuba or somewhere else where they wouldn’t extradite us?”
That sounded far preferable to dealing with Sirius Black. Even if it meant he’d never see his brother again.
“You do,” Regulus said softly, eyes wide. “You’d rather fake your death than tell my brother the truth.”
“He’ll run straight to Dumbledore if he doesn’t sicc Aurors on us first. He’d probably think that us risking our lives is fair game. You know how he feels about people like us.” He doesn’t say that Sirius would almost definitely think they deserved whatever they got; Regulus wouldn’t listen.
“He’s my brother.”
“He abandoned you, betrayed your family, and he hates me, Reg, and you know it.”
“...Maybe,” Regulus admitted.
“He did, and he does,” Evan said. He leaned in to kiss Regulus, soft and sweet. Fuck, he’d really do anything for him. He was really going to do this for him. If Regulus insisted on telling his brother…
But fortunately, when Evan pulled away, Regulus agreed, “So we won’t tell Sirius.”
“We can manage this together,” Evan promised him. They didn’t need anyone else; just each other. Treason was best kept to as small a circle as possible, anyway. Evan kissed him again and pulled him closer to settle between his legs. “Come here, love.”
The term of endearment fell off his lips without him even registering, but Regulus noticed immediately. His eyes went wide and his lips parted in a way that was both adorable and incredibly tempting, and he repeated, “Love?”
Fuck. Evan leaned in to kiss his neck, teeth scraping lightly at his skin. “You already know I love you.”
“I love you so much,” Regulus breathed. Before Evan could manage a reply, Regulus’s hands were between them, working on Evan’s trousers. “Let me show you?”
Fuck. “Always.”
Regulus grinned against his neck, and Evan lifted his hips to help Regulus slide his trousers and pants off as he started to work on his own shirt. He’d no sooner thrown his shirt – somewhere; he didn’t know where – than Regulus was pushing him down on the bed and nudging him toward the centre.
Evan did as he was asked. “Need you,” he breathed. “Fuck.”
Regulus came back in to kiss him again rather than reply – but that was fine, because Evan knew Regulus needed him just as badly – and started to trail kisses down his neck and body. Evan moaned and arched up into his touch. His fingers found their way to Regulus’s shirt buttons, which he undid as quickly as he could manage. Regulus let him tug his shirt off, and Evan was rewarded with Regulus’s bare skin against his.
“Impatient,” Regulus teased. He bit down lightly at Evan’s collarbone.
“I told you I need you.” And he did. Fucking hell.
He wouldn’t ever need anyone else as long as he had Regulus. Regulus was it for him, and he could only trust that Regulus felt the same. He said he loved him, anyway, and Evan knew he’d never lie about something like that.
He shoved all thoughts about future wives and children clear out of his mind. If they were going to betray the Dark Lord, there was little chance of settling into a quiet domestic life in Britain. Maybe they’d get to be together, wherever they ended up.
He hoped so.
Regulus bit him again, a bit harder this time. Evan whined and reached for him to pull him even closer. Regulus came willingly. Evan was eager to touch every single inch of him, as if he never had before. Every time he had with Regulus was special, though, and he was sure Regulus knew it.
He tugged Regulus’s trousers down, and his pants along with them, desperate to get his hands on him. When he took Regulus’s cock into his hand, he was sure no one else could have ever hoped to compare.
Regulus pulled away just long enough to get the lube and peel his trousers and pants off the rest of the way. Then he was spreading Evan’s legs, slicking his cock with lube, and sliding in without prep. Fuck, the stretch felt so good. Evan moaned his name and grasped blindly for him.
“I’m here,” Regulus murmured in his ear. “I’ll always be here.”
Always. Evan whined and pulled him closer. Regulus kissed his neck, pausing only to bite him lightly and suck a bruise into his skin. Evan didn’t mind; he didn’t care who saw. He wanted everyone to know. Maybe one day, they could. Once this was all over, who was to say that they wouldn’t be able to be together publicly?
The thought sent a rush through him. He loved him so fucking much.
Regulus fucked him as if they had all of the time in the world, whispering sweet nothings and praise the entire time. By the time he reached a hand to stroke Evan’s cock, Evan was already teetering on the edge. It only took a few strokes for him to come, nails digging into Regulus’s back as he moaned his name.
Regulus followed shortly thereafter, and for a moment, they lay there together, entwined. Then Regulus was shifting them so that he could hold Evan properly. Evan certainly wasn’t about to complain.
As he lay curled up in Regulus’s arms, Regulus stroked his hair. He was going to spend the rest of his life with this man, no matter what – no matter how long that was. He loved Regulus more than he ever thought possible – and Evan hadn’t been raised in an unloving home by any means.
It was just… Regulus.
Evan didn’t know what he’d do without him. Part of him wanted to ask if Regulus had been prepared to do this alone – if he’d changed his mind last minute – but he didn’t want to know the answer. He didn’t want to have to think about what might have happened if he had.
He forced himself to be grateful for what had happened. As much as Evan would rather Regulus not betray the Dark Lord at all, he knew that they needed to be by each other’s sides to have any hope of surviving this. If the Dark Lord really was using Horcruxes, anyway, that was legitimately concerning – and when it came down to it, Evan trusted Regulus’s intelligence and judgement.
He was going to let Regulus lead him into whatever this was. He couldn’t let him do this alone, and his loyalty was first and foremost to Regulus himself, before the Dark Lord or the Cause or anything else.
Wasn’t that what love was about, in the end?
Although he let Evan accompany him to the cave, Regulus insisted on going inside himself, no matter how Evan insisted on going with him the whole way.
“It’ll only let one fully-trained wizard do what we need to do,” Regulus said. He caressed Evan’s cheek. “I’ve ordered Kreacher to apparate me out. I’ll be fine. I just might need your support once I’ve left the cave – and obviously, your help in destroying it.”
Evan couldn’t help but doubt Regulus’s sincerity. There was no way it would be so simple; the Dark Lord was too clever for that. Regulus had to know it, too. Why else would he ask for help? Evan wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew it would be bad.
Still, he had to trust Regulus, so he waited at the mouth of the cave for what felt like an eternity. Regulus’s House Elf would tell him if Regulus died, right? Evan wasn’t typically an anxious person, but right now… he was worried.
He tried not to think too much about what Regulus hadn’t said – about the risk, about what to do if he failed. It was difficult to remain calm, especially without anything to distract him. He loved Regulus more than anyone and anything else on the planet; he didn’t know what he’d do without him.
Just when he was starting to consider entering the cave himself, Regulus’s instructions be damned, there was a crack and the House Elf appeared with Regulus in his arms.
Immediately, Evan knew something was wrong. He checked – Regulus was breathing, but barely. He was soaking wet and bloody and shaking, and the Elf was weeping, and Evan searched in his satchel for something – anything – to help. Fuck.
His hands shook as he uncorked the vial of dittany. He tried to pour it onto Regulus’s wounds, but it was so hard to tell where the wounds were when he was so covered in blood. He couldn’t remember the spell to clear it; he couldn’t remember anything.
Tears started to blur his vision.
Regulus was going to die. They couldn’t go to St. Mungo’s – he’d be arrested. They couldn’t go to any of the Healers who worked for the Dark Lord, or even Severus – not when they’d just betrayed the Dark Lord himself.
The words left Evan’s mouth before he could think better of it. “Take us to Sirius. Please. There’s nowhere else to go.”
The House Elf looked ready to argue, and he wasn’t bound to Evan’s orders, so Evan went on. “He told you to keep him safe. Look at him. He needs help. If you don’t do it, I’ll try to find Sirius myself, and probably get us both killed.”
Regulus made a desperate gasp for breath, which must have been enough, because the next thing Evan knew, he was in a comfortable-looking sitting room.
Sirius Black had his wand on him before he could even finish corking the dittany.
“He’s dying,” Evan tried to say, but it came out a sob, and he didn’t know how comprehensible he was. “I’ll give you my wand, just – please.”
Sirius looked at him before his gaze shifted to Regulus. “Kreacher, get the fuck out of here and tell no one anything about tonight – even if you’re ordered. Rosier, your wand.”
Evan handed it over, and the Elf left, grumbling under his breath. Evan pried the locket out of Regulus’s grip and slipped it into his pocket before brushing his hair out of his face. “Please stay with me…”
The next thing Evan knew, Sirius was stripping Regulus down, ripping his clothes off with a spell and clearing the blood. “What the fuck happened, Rosier?”
“We – defected. He tried to take something of the Dark Lord’s, but he wouldn’t tell me anything; just to wait for him while he did it.”
“Defected?” Sirius didn’t take his eyes off his brother or his hand off his wand.
“We couldn’t – St. Mungo’s would arrest him, and anyone we know would turn him in to the Dark Lord. Reg, please stay with me.”
Sirius didn’t comment on any of it. “Make yourself useful and get the dittany out of my cupboard.”
“I – I have some.” He thrust the vial into Sirius’s hands, unsure of what else to do.
Sirius unstoppered the vial, summoned a clean cloth, and started to dab dittany onto Regulus’s wounds. Regulus whined, but wasn’t that proof that it was working? “He’s ingested something. Go get a bezoar.”
“Where?” Evan asked.
“Cupboard next to the sink.”
This would be easier with a wand, but he didn’t ask for it back. He rushed over the cupboard and searched for a bezoar with his bare hands. Thank Merlin, he found one within seconds. “Found one,” he said, rushing back to Regulus’s side.
Sirius didn’t even look up at him. “Good. Now shove it down his throat.”
Evan knew the trick from Severus, but Severus would have turned them in. Sirius wasn’t doing that – not yet – and Evan was reasonably sure he’d never hand them over to the Dark Lord, anyway. The Ministry or Dumbledore, on the other hand…
What mattered was that Regulus lived.
With shaky hands, Evan pried Regulus’s mouth open and coaxed the bezoar down his throat.
The results were instantaneous. Regulus’s breathing levelled out. After just a moment, he opened his eyes.
“Sirius?” His voice was rough, as if he’d been screaming. It made Evan’s gut churn.
“Your idiot boyfriend made the Elf bring you here. Now stay still – you look like you’ve been attacked by wild animals, and we might need more dittany.”
“Inferi,” Regulus said.
“Inferi?” Evan repeated. He knew the Dark Lord made use of them, of course; everyone did. But for them to attack Regulus…
“It’s fine,” Regulus insisted. “Did you get the locket, Ev?”
“I have it. We’ll destroy it,” Evan promised him. “It’ll be fine. Just – just focus on healing. Please.”
Sirius spoke up again. “Rosier, get some more dittany out of that cupboard, will you?”
Reluctantly, Evan stepped away from Regulus to do as Sirius asked. He was less shaky this time – less desperate, now that Regulus seemed likely to survive – and found the dittany, clearly labelled, with relative ease. He carried it back to the sitting room and handed it over to Sirius before kneeling by Regulus’s head and stroking his hair.
“I thought you were going to die…” he murmured, completely unwilling to take his hands off of Regulus now that he had him.
“He’s not going to die,” Sirius said flatly. “At least not from this. Voldemort might kill him, though – and you, too.”
Evan flinched at the use of the Dark Lord’s name, but in the end… Sirius was right. The Dark Lord would certainly kill them both once he found out.
“What do you suggest we do, then?” Evan found himself asking before he could think better of it.
“You’ve defected, haven’t you? Both of you?”
Evan didn’t think he liked where this was going. “Yes.”
“I think the best chance you’ve got of surviving this would be to go to Dumbledore. Crouch’ll send you to rot in Azkaban, but… you know as well as I do that Dumbledore is the only one Voldemort’s afraid of. Which is absolute bollocks, to be honest, because I could take him, too.”
“You think you could take the Dark Lord?” Evan asks incredulously, deciding to focus on that part of his statement.
Sirius looked at him with a critical eye, then hummed. “You’re a good enough duellist that you might be able to manage it, too, if you had the guts.”
“Stop it,” Regulus said.
“Stop what?” Sirius asked.
“Fighting.”
“You think this is fighting?” Sirius scoffed. “You’ve gone soft, Reggie.”
Evan had a brother, but he rather thought Sirius and Regulus’s relationship was different to his and Felix’s, and not just because of their age gap. Regulus and Sirius had gone through absolute hell growing up, while Evan and Felix had been spoiled and coddled and loved.
Still, it was nice to know – nice to have finite evidence – that Sirius, at the end of the day, loved his brother more than he hated his brother’s choices. Or, at least, that was what Evan was drawing from this whole bizarre interaction.
He didn’t interject or protest. He knew better than to think it would work.
“I’m sorry, love,” he said instead to Regulus, stroking his hair again.
Sirius snorted and went back to applying dittany to Regulus’s wounds. “Roll over,” he said.
Evan cleared a spot and helped Regulus roll over, cradling his head in his lap as Sirius cleaned the blood here, too, and started to apply dittany to these wounds. Fuck, it all looked so bad; he didn’t know what to do about it except hope that Regulus would truly be all right.
“Dumbledore is the only logical answer,” Sirius said after a moment. “He’s going to have questions, of course, but he can protect you.”
“No one can protect us,” Evan snapped. “Don’t insult us by pretending otherwise.”
“You think a non-extradition treaty will stop Voldemort from hunting you down in the Soviet Union, or wherever?” Sirius asked. If Evan didn’t know any better – no; Sirius was definitely getting a kick out of using the Dark Lord’s name; out of the way Evan flinched every time.
To Evan’s dismay, Regulus said, “I think he’s got a point, Ev.”
“Seriously?”
“He’ll make Barty do it,” Regulus said softly, which – fuck, that was true. And no matter how Barty felt about traitors – how he would feel when he learned that they were traitors – there would be a special sort of hell in having their friend torture and kill them on the Dark Lord’s orders.
“Fuck, your lot are really fucked up, aren’t you?” Sirius asked.
Evan didn’t dignify that with a response. “It’s up to you, Reg. You know I’d follow you to the ends of the earth.”
That was just the problem. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Regulus, and he thought everyone knew it. It was why he found himself here now. In the end, it was Regulus’s decision to make.
He’d go along with anything Regulus asked. He always had.