After A Long Day At Work, Regulus Had Wanted Nothing More Than To Retreat Home And Head Straight To Bed.

There were some evenings that Regulus didn't mind company, and some where he wanted to simply people watch until the evening slipped away. He'd been planning on people watching until the time came for his mission, curiously surveying the White Wyvern to see if there was any information that could be gained. Even in these dark times, once people had a pint of beer their lips loosened and secrets were spoken louder than necessary. Watching Lucius move over to join him saw those plans slipping away, but he didn't mind it too much.

Family was everything, after all.

"I've cast a lot of complex spells today, it was quite draining. I could eat two of these I reckon...need to get my strength back up," Regulus shrugged, shovelling another forkful in his mouth. "How are you settling into married life? I saw Narcissa the other day...she seemed happy," he offered.

Lucius glanced over to the voice, one to a face he did not mind, at least a Black that was still on the right side, causing him to slip from his chair and join him at his table. Hues glance down at the pie on the table. "I did not say you were not." Company he could appreciate.

"Has it been a day that you feel inclined to eat an entire pie?" He leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his drink. Lucius wasn't one to judge, but he was judging. That was a lie, he was always one to judge.

The last time Fenrir had found himself so vulnerable in the arms of another, he had ended up with Magnus at the end of it all. He'd spent so long working his way through the pack, fiercely independent and comfortable in his own company, and he hadn't expected Nancy to worm her way into his heart. Now history was repeating itself again. Things had started with Dora as a way to warm each other's beds, and now there was something....more. Something unexpected, but something wonderful. "I hope he does. I hope he knows his father wants only the best for him," Fenrir said earnestly. "There's nothing left of Anders. There was nothing but scraps at time, but I made sure those scraps disappeared. Nobody even cared enough to look for him," he sneered, thinking of the way his father had intentionally isolated them away. Taking her words on board, Fenrir nodded slowly, offering her a tight smile. "I try my best."

He knew that Pandora must have spent a great deal of time infusing these bracelets with her own magic, and he appreciated it more than he could say. "I don't need more. This is perfect, it's so thoughtful," he said, leaning his forehead against hers as their eyes met. With the war growing darker, and Fenrir finding himself being called upon more and more, it was a gift like no other to be able to know that his son was safe and away from it all.

Fenrir's hands came to settle on Pandora's waist, thumbs aimlessly tracing circles. "Darling, I'd cook for us. I like doing it, it makes me feel useful. Speaking of, what are you doing for New Years? If you have nothing on I could make us a meal, then we could go away for the night somewhere?"

The stress of the day melted away being tucked in Fenrir's arms. All her worries and doubts, they didn't matter when she was here in his home. Laying there listening to his story about his father stirred feelings of anger and sadness for him. Her parents were far from perfect, but they celebrated their way. "I bet you Magnus feels that love. I see it in your eyes when you talk about him. If your father was here still, I'd hurt him myself, for making you feel that way." A hand comes up to cup his cheek, leaning up to kiss his chin. "I also want to point out, you are nothing like your father. You are a strong leader who does have compassion, in his own way, but you care about those who are your pack above all, you protect those that you love."

Pandora would never grow tired of kissing him. There was this spark that sparked each time their lips met and it was one of the best feelings that washed over her. Her eyes lit up when he opened the box with the bracelets, spending the last few weeks to get the spell right, but with a twist of her own magic in it. "You deserve more, Fen." There was a peace of mind knowing that he would always be able to know where Magnus was when he couldn't be home.

"This is our first Christmas together." Fingers comb gently through his hair, moving it away from his face. "I'm really hoping that next year, we could all do it together." She was hopefully for what their future could look like, ignoring all the obstacles that would be in their way. "I'm not the best cook, but I think I could put a meal together."

REGULUS BLACK

At Pandora's murmured words, Fenrir thought that summed them up. They were a pair of unusual people, who found peace amongst nature and were somewhat different to their peers. It was a stray encounter in the woods that had brought them together, and they had been colliding ever since. Humming a small noise of affirmation at the possession in her tone, a small smile tugged at his lips before it disappeared again. There weren't many witches bold enough to try and tame him, never mind asserting her possession of him - even if just for an evening.

"I'm a selfish man. I know what I want, and I take it," he whispered against her soft skin, nipping ever so gently before he kissed her again. A small growl of discontent sounded in his throat as she reminded him that there were still things to do before he could indulge, and he pulled back slightly otherwise he would lose himself in the witch in front of him. "I will hold that promise as seriously as if we had made an unbreakable vow."

If he'd thought for a moment, he should have separated them so that Pandora wouldn't be entirely caught in his hold while he was paralysed. If something went wrong, she would need to be able to undo it. Fenrir himself wasn't entirely sure what his darkest secret could be, but he felt a pressure in his throat almost like sickness threatening to come out. He couldn't move, couldn't relieve the pressure in any way other than to open his mouth and talk. "I killed my father when I was fifteen, and I have not regretted it once. His body is somewhere in the Scottish highlands, nobody has tried to look for him."

Almost as quickly as his muscles had seized up, he began to relax again and he let go of the clock. Quirking his eyebrow in interest, Fenrir considered the words he had just spoken. "I haven't spoken of my father for over a decade."

The fact that Pandora felt the same about Fenrir should have set sirens off in her head, warning her that this could only end in disaster, but for the first time, in her life, she felt seen. The witch grew up around pureblood standards, but felt she slipped through the cracks with the way she saw the world and the hobbies that intrigued her. Her parents concerned laid on her brother, in search of the perfect pureblood witch to marry him to. "Here I am, continuing to find my way into the woods and into your arms." She was determined to live in the moment and worry about nothing more. "I will take that, you being mine for tonight." A satisfied tone in her words. More meaning behind it than she had realised.

"You never do play fair." A soft whisper rolling from her tongue. The more time they spent together, the more she found it hard to resist his charm, and seductive ways, and at times she didn't want to. "I promise, once we finish, you can have me in all the ways you do," she stated, a promise she would keep.

Pandora would prove that she was worth him trusting her, knowing her actions would be more what he needed from her than her words. Her kind were surely look down at him, convinced they did now, but he she knew from what her brother would talk about, was that they were important allies for the cause. A sigh spilled free when he returned the kiss, eyes sparkling with excitement when he agreed to hold the clock for her.

She was not expecting him to do so right away, caught between his arms and the clock, she cared only for his reaction than the object. He would feel his muscles begin to lock into place, a sudden desire building up at the back of this throat, a need to express his darkest secret, and he would not be free from his paralysed shackles until he spoke his truth aloud.

Fenrir much preferred the quietness of this evening with Pandora to attending the Selwyn party where certain pure-bloods would look down their noses at him for his dirty blood when he knew full well they would work alongside him on a battle field without thinking anything further. If not for Pandora, he would have gone - though he'd have been in a foul temper all evening. "I can cast warming charms over you when we head out, but you know that I'll keep you warm," he said, knowing she liked the way he ran hot. He'd built up the fire in the living room of the cabin anyway, but his witch would curl into his side and seek warmth from him and he knew it. "Of course I do. If you weren't fun sized, I wouldn't be able to do this," he turned in her hold before lifting her easily so she could settle her legs around his waist. "There. You can see me eye-to-eye now," he grinned at her.

"Tell me," he said, his grin disappearing as he tried to guess from her tone what she might want to discuss.

If Pandora could stay here, call this their home, she would in a heart beat. All that was missing was Magnus. Perhaps next year, the four of them, never one to leave out Nancy, could spend it together. Her nose wrinkles at the popping of the champagne bottle, ready to have a little drink, yet, she would not unwind her arms around his, wanting to feel their fingers tangled together.

"I cannot wait to got outside and share them with you." He was like a furnace and would keep her warm, not having to dress to warm to go outside. "It sounds like heaven." Anywhere with him felt like that, a cloud nine she never wanted to come down on. There was no denying how short she was, especially beside him. "You like me fun size anyway," she teased back soflty.

"There was something I wanted to talk to you about." There were not many she talked about her magic with, except one who had shown interest recently, and with her clock finished, she hesitated a little to reach out, but there was this deep seeded need to please Bellatrix.

Watching the other woman shrink away from him, Reg briefly felt vindicated before an irritating feeling that may have been called regret prickled at his skin. He might be grumpy, but he supposed that Greta didn't deserve to receive the brunt of that grumpiness. Stepping back towards her, Regulus tapped her shoulder gently. "Hey...I'm sorry. That was rude of me."

Greta grimaced at his tone, shrinking back. "I'm sorry. I'll be out of your hair in a minute." Quickly grabbing the things she needed she stepped back, making her way to the register.

Regulus rarely escaped the ministry on his lunch break, instead choosing to eat lunch at his desk so he could return to his work quickly. However, today had been difficult and so Regulus had made an escape into the fresh air that Diagon Alley afforded. The bustling crowds down the street weren't enough to put Regulus off buying a sugar quill from the sweet shop, a childhood favourite that still satisfied his sweet tooth more than anything else. He was chewing slowly on the quill and meandering towards Flourish and Blotts, quite content to spend the rest of his lunch break amongst the towering shelves until he found something new to take home and read. Feeling quite at peace, Regulus found himself wondering why he didn't pop out more regularly...until his eyes unwittingly fell upon his cousin, and his niece. Stopping dead in his tracks, Regulus couldn't drag his eyes away from the small toddler clinging to Andromeda's side. He should turn and go, should make known his disgust, he should curse them for being blood traitors....and yet he did nothing. "Andromeda," he said almost involuntarily, his voice so small and quiet that she may not have heard it at all. @tonksxandromeda

There was no more important job within the Order of the Phoenix than ensuring that everyone's skills were up to scratch, especially knowing that the Death Eaters would not pull their punches. Kingsley himself had a vicious scar on his ribs demonstrating their lack of conscience, and the Order would crumble if they were sending out people who were unprepared. He'd come straight to headquarters from a warm up run, dressed in a black muscle vest and some grey shorts. "Morning Aurora. Thank you for arriving so promptly," he noted, reaching for his wand. "Today, we'll start small. I want you to try and disarm me however you can. I will act defensively, and I've already cast cushioning charms around the room so feel free to really give me everything you've got. I'm ready when you are."

where: training room of Order hq who: @battle-scvrs

Aurora wasn't sure why she felt nervous. Her duelling skills were fine, but until Kingsley was satisfied with her abilities, she would be kept within the walls whilst everyone else was out making a difference. She pulled her hair up into a pony, dressed in a paire of tights and tank top, her robes in hand when she walked out on the mat to where he was standing.

"Hello Kingsley," a smile on her lips.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips at the woman's sneered words. Whatever he'd done to piss her off, he'd clearly done it spectacularly. "You're welcome to try and make it difficult," he said, wondering how much this woman hated him and whether she would start a fight in the bar. At her warning, Fenrir finally understood. "Ah...little Lupin. He'd be so much better with his own kind, and one day he will come to know it. You should consider carefully who you are trying to threaten, or it may be you next," his voice was low as she brushed past him, and he began making his way back towards the kitchen.

There were plenty of things Aurora wanted, but she knew of the reputation that came with the white wyvern, and if they knew she was an order member, but this beast, he hurt the one she cared for. "That would be too easy for you." She sneered, standing up, catching sight of who she was here to meet. "Stay away from Remus." She warned him, brushing past him over to the witch, handing her the envelope in her hand.

“It’s not easy making a name for yourself, where do I draw the line? I never thought I'd be in this far.”

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Cassandra Joanne Borgin NICKNAMES: Cass, Cassie. AGE: 29 GENDER: Cis Female PRONOUNS: She/Her

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Joanne Borgin FATHER: Henry Borgin SIBLINGS: Abigail Borgin, Nicholas Borgin (Death Eater).

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Jodie Comer BUILD: Slim, but muscled. HAIR COLOR: Dirty blonde. EYE COLOR: Hazel. SKIN COLOR: Pale. DOMINANT HAND: Right. ANOMALIES: Freckles on her cheeks, calluses on her fingers and some faded scarring on her wrists from potions accidents. SCENT: Usually sterile whilst working due to cleansing charms, otherwise Cassandra usually smells faintly floral. ACCENT: Strong yorkshire accent ALLERGIES: N/a DISORDERS: N/a FASHION: Cassandra is often found in healers robes, but otherwise wears a mix of casual dresses or shirts and trousers. Occasionally she will dress up formally. NERVOUS TICS: Biting down on her lower lip

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: Semi-detached house in Godric's Hollow. BORN:  Outskirts of Leeds, Yorkshire. RAISED:  Outskirts of Leeds, Yorkshire. PETS: A small black cat called Jinx.

CAREER: Healer EMPLOYER: Private healer, with some occasional on call shifts at St Mungos where the healers become overwhelmed after battles. POLITICAL AFFILIATION: Neutral.

DRUGS: Occasionally to wind down after a long shift. SMOKES: Only when drunk. ALCOHOL: Cassandra is very fond of a glass of wine, but she is also known to wash away a long and difficult day with a glass of vodka tonic. DIET: Vegetarian.

LANGUAGES: English, French, Spanish, Gobbledegook, Runic Magic.

𝖋 𝖆 𝖛 𝖔 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

LOCATION: The Yorkshire dales. SPORTS TEAM: Appleby Arrows GAME: Exploding Snap FOOD: A hearty vegetable dhal with rice and naan. BEVERAGE: Strong Italian coffee, or a glass of red wine. COLOR: Purple.

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Ravenclaw. BLOOD PURITY: Pure-blooded WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 10 and a quarter inches, Willow wood, Dragon Heartstring core, springy. AMORTENTIA: Bakewell tart, dusty shelves, dragonhide gloves, morning dew. PATRONUS: Cassandra is unable to produce a patronus. BOGGART: (to be decided)

Bio:

Cassandra Borgin was born as the second child to Joanne and Henry Borgin. Henry is the co-owner of a magical antiques and artefacts shop located on Knockturn Alley, and has carefully maintained an air of neutrality his whole life despite his career as a dealer of dark artefacts. As a child Cassandra remembers her father putting protective spells over her hands so that she could spend her days in the store with him and not risk accidentally touching, though she was usually hidden at the back of the store with her nose in a book. Cassandra's older brother Nicholas was fiercely protective of his sister, and that protectiveness only grew as their youngest sibling arrived when Cassandra was six.

As she spent much of her time surrounded by dark artefacts, Cassandra found herself wanting to curiously take them apart and figure out how things worked. Her father caught her on more than one occasion pulling apart a dangerous artefact with her hands, and no amount of warning against it would quell Cassandra's curious mind. Eventually, Joanne put her foot down and said that Cassie wouldn't be allowed to go to the store any more otherwise she was at risk of killing herself and anyone else in the store at the time. Little Cassie didn't understand why she was being punished for her curiosity - she just wanted to understand how the world worked, and what her papa's work involved.

Seeing that her daughter had an inquisitive mind, Joanne spent a lot of time taking Cassandra to the magical libraries. She quickly moved on from childish books like Babbity Rabbity to Hogwarts textbooks, and by the time Cassandra came of age to attend Hogwarts she had already read all of both first and second years text books, along with additional material. Her interest in taking things apart and understanding how they worked had led to Cassie spending time with her mother brewing potions, and practicing wand motions long before she had her own.

Her older brother had been at Hogwarts before herself and had been sorted into Slytherin, and the family expectation was that Cassandra would continue the tradition. She'd barely had a moment to think when the sorting hat touched her head as it shouted 'Ravenclaw' loudly, and she stumbled in surprise towards the Ravenclaw table. Within Ravenclaw house, she found kinship. As much as her mother wanted to foster her education, they couldn't hold conversations the way that other Ravenclaws did in the common room. While she had been apprehensive initially, Cassandra quickly came to love her house. School itself was a breeze, with Cassie regularly coming top in her classes.

When it came time to pick her OWLs and then her NEWTS, Cassie's original interest in taking things apart and putting them back together seemed to win out as she was drawn towards a healing path. Whilst taking apart dark artefacts was interesting, Cassie was fascinated by the way the human body worked and how different spells and curses could affect the inner workings of the body. She wanted to be different than the rest of her family who seemed content to continue the family legacy of artefact dealing, she wanted to carve her own place in the world and make her own legacy.

Her high grades were more than enough to get onto the St Mungos training course, but Henry and Joanne deemed the St Mungos course too poor for their daughter. Henry had built up a small fortune over the years via the antiques shop, never mind his illicit dealings of forbidden creatures and potions ingredients, and they used some of that money to send Cassie abroad to learn - firstly to France, then for further study in Spain. Whilst studying, there was a heavy focus on the healing qualities of potions and Cassie is now fully adept at creating a variety of healing potions which she keeps a heavy stock of. She has carved a basement out of her home in Godric's Hollow and uses that as a potions lab.

Cassie spent four years abroad and came back with all the relevant qualifications for healing. In her absence, the Dark Lord had been gathering power and many of the other pure-bloods she knew had pledged themselves to his service, including her older brother. Her father remained neutral, but it was widely accepted that he aligned to the dark arts. When she returned to England, Cassie felt some pressure to join the Death Eaters but she resisted - her focus was on healing, regardless of what side they were on. Cassandra does broadly agree with some of the Dark Lord's ideologies, but she cannot support it fully when her focus is the damage caused by the Death Eaters that he lets run riot. Like her father, Cassandra maintains quiet neutrality which allows her to heal those on both sides of the war.

Cassandra now works predominantly as a private healer for pure-blooded families who want a discreet service at home, rather than attending St Mungos. She is on retainer at St Mungos if they were ever entirely overwhelmed, and has been called in once or twice, but Cassie prefers the more personal method of private healing. She has made her position known that if a Death Eater were to come to her with injuries that they could not attend St Mungos with, those injuries and the circumstances with which they were gained would remain entirely confidential. She's still curious about the way the world works, and on occasions where she has healed wounds from particularly dark magic, Cassie has taken a copy of the magical signature and studies them at home to see if she can figure out a way to counter it.