JO'S FINGERS SHAKE AS SHE WORKS TO HEAL REGULUS. His skin is bare before her, raw and sliced and bruised, shirt discarded and wounds open. She did her best not to flinch at the sight of them, at the quantity and the severity. But it made her dizzy, looking at them. It reminds her a bit too much of Ivan, of the wounds that wouldn't heal. She bites down that thought and applies a salve to his skin and watches as the cuts slowly start to clean and close themselves.

It's been a few hours now and Jo's not even sure if this is real or not, or if this is just some intense dream. It doesn't feel real. It feels like she's drifted away from her body, and she is floating in some alternative reality where things go her way. But she can feel Regulus's skin against the tips of her fingers, cold as ice, despite the warm summer air that drifts in from her open window. She can feel his heartbeat under his chest, feels the goosebumps that rise over his skin.

Regulus is looking down at her, his back pressed against the side of her bed as she tends to him. He has not stopped looking at her. He has not looked away for one second, like he is afraid that she will disappear if he does. As Jo leans closer to him, dragging her salve-covered thumb along his collarbone, thinking of how it feels out of place, Regulus reaches a hand out towards her, first cupping her check, then moving his fingers towards her scalp, tangling them in the roots of her hair. He leaves his hand there.

Jo swallows and looks up at him.

He hasn't said much, not in a bit. When he did speak, his voice was raw and rough, like he had been screaming. Jo can feel her heartbeat in her throat as she blinks up at him, feeling miniscule under his tense gaze. Regulus leans in, gently pulling her in towards him, and he kisses her, softly, gently. His lips linger against hers as he says, "Marry me."

She scoffs, and pulls away, trying to fix her attention on his injuries again. "Regulus-"

"I'm serious," he insists, and reaches for her again, arms going tight around her waist, taking her attention away from healing once again. Reluctantly, she meets his gaze again, her expression forced to be flat and unimpressed, trying to ignore her heart, hammering away in her chest. "It can just be us. It doesn't have to be traditional or big or anything I just," he leans in closer to her again, pressing his forehead against hers. 'I just want to be yours."

"Can you at least let me fix you first?" Jo asks, quirking an eyebrow and trying to sound indifferent to make up for the way her cheeks burn. She forgot the effect he has on her.

Regulus smiles softly and releases her. Jo shakes her head before she reaches for her wand, thinking of his crooked collarbone. His eyes are warm as he watches her, and he hardly even flinches as Jo snaps the bone back into place. Healing Regulus is remarkably easier than James or Remus, no squirming or squealing. Removing water from his lungs and reshaping bones and Regulus remained still as stone throughout the whole process.

Jo's eyes move up, eye his neck and studying the hand-shaped bruises that wrap around it. Her hand raises slightly, fingers brushing against the uneven edges of them. It's only then when Regulus averts his gaze, eyes now focused intensely on the floor. Jo frowns. "What exactly happened to you?" she probes gently. "What did this to you?"

He sighs, shoulders rising and falling with the movement. Regulus has always been reluctant to disclose these types of things to her, keeping his cards close to his chest. But he has no reason to now, and Jo wouldn't let him hold it back anyways. He seems to know this. "Inferi."

Jo's eyes nearly pop out of her head. Images come to her before she can fight them off. Cold, wet pale hands wrapped around Regulus's throat, pulling him down into deep, black cave water, turning him blue. "Inferi?"

"They were one of his defensive measures. One of many," Regulus explains, now suddenly unable to meet her eye. "I think I was already half dead when they started grabbing at me. They dragged me into the water and if it weren't for Kreacher" he starts, and then stops, taking in a long, deep breath. "Josephine, when I was there in the water, and things were starting to go black, I started thinking about my life, and everything that's happened to me. And almost everything that was good," Regulus pauses again now, and meets Jo's wide eyes, "that was you. You've been the best part of my life."

Jo lifts her hands and places each one on either side of his face, taking in the sight of him, whole and complete and with her. "You're the best part of mine," she tells him, hushed. "And now that I have you back, I'm not letting you leave."

"I'm not going anywhere," he vows. "There's no reason to ever leave you again and I'm sorry I ever had to."

Jo is quiet for a moment. Her hands drop and lay limp in her lap and she looks down at them, studying them. "Did you get it?' she asks, quieter now.

Regulus reaches for her hands. Jo watches as his long and slender fingers brush the skin of her wrist. "Yes."

"Did you get rid of it?" she asks, voice hoarse.

"No."

She feels flooded with something, overwhelmed and lightheaded. She leans back and studies him. He's healed enough, for now, skin closed up and bones reset. Jo reaches for his shirt and tosses it back over to him. "You'll have to rest, for a while. Get your strength back."

He smiles softly and pulls his shirt over his head. It hands loosely on him. "Whatever you say," he concedes, voice low and dizzying.

Jo stands, stretching her legs out before she reaches out to offer her hand to Regulus. He takes it, and stands, towering over her. For a moment, they stand across from each other, the space between them thick. Jo had spent so long trying not to think of what might be happening to him, trying not to spiral and not daring to think of the possibilities. Months without him had made Regulus seem like a figment, some far-off dream. And now he stands before her, flesh and blood, like he never left.

Regulus smiles at her, and Jo feels light on her feet at the look on his face. Jo can feel it, how much he loves her, she can see it in the warmth of his eyes and the ease in his smile. Before Jo even realizes what she's doing, she leaps forward, arms around his neck and pulling him as close as possible. "I love you," she whispers in his ear, "I love you, Regulus Black."

Regulus's response to her is automatic, arms around her waist and face buried in the crook of her neck. "I love you, Josephine Potter," he responds. "I always have."

Jo's arms go tighter around him. He feels so frail in her hold, delicate and ready to snap. She shudders to think of all that he went through to result in his body breaking down like this. Jo pulls away from him, arms dropping so her hands still caress his shoulders. "Why don't you try to get some sleep, and I'll make you something to eat and get you some potions?"

"No," Regulus contests, "stay here with me."

Jo almost rolls her eyes. "Regulus, please, you need to eat," she urges, and raises a stern eyebrow at him. "I'll curse you, if I have to."

Regulus smirks, and Jo's heart flutters. It's a sight that she missed, a crooked and easy grin that sits so well on him. "Alright," he relents easily, and swoops down to catch her in a kiss once more. Instinctually, Jo rises to her toes and leans into it, like she's drinking up as much of him as she can. He pulls away, and lets her go as he says, "Hurry back." 

Jo ties her hair back and makes Regulus a Shepherd's pie. She thinks maybe it might be a bit excessive, but she remembers the way she would warm up whenever her mother made it for her and thinks that maybe that's something Regulus needs right now.

Her whole body seems to vibrate as she chops vegetables, her hands shaking so violently she has to opt for using her wand instead. She keeps looking up, towards the stairs, examining the ceilings, and straining her ears, looking for any noises out of the ordinary, like something could go wrong in a matter of seconds. Her throat feels dry. Regulus is back, and it feels almost too good to be true.

And as her hands work, her mind drifts, thinking of him and what he must have gone through. Another shudder rolls down her spine. Inferi. She can't believe it. A small part of her is still irate with him for putting himself through it all, almost dying for some stupid locket he can't get rid of. But most of her is so flooded with relief she feels like she's always on the verge of crying.

While her magic works to mash up potatoes and lamb sizzles on the stove, Jo shifts through her potions storage. She tries to think of everything he might, definitely some Calming Draught, likely some Sleeping Draught, if he's still awake and wired up there. Jo goes over his injuries in her head and grabs some blood-replenishing potions as well-she has plenty of that stocked up for the Order.

Jo leans back, watching the dinner make itself, and she thinks of Regulus. Really, she thinks of marrying Regulus. Even the thought of it makes her ears fuzzy and her cheeks hot. Surely, she tells herself, he is delusional, and there is no real way he has genuine intentions of marrying her. But Jo knows Regulus and has a hard time convincing herself of that thought. The look in his eyes when he said it wouldn't leave her mind. That alone is enough to convince her. But marriage is something Jo's never contemplated, never accounted for in any of her plans. The pie places itself in the oven, and Jo chews on her bottom lip, thinking that the idea of marriage has always been a low priority for her, but marrying Regulus is something entirely different. Spending the rest of her life with him, that's just something that feels natural, simple. She shakes her head.

While the pie bakes, Jo takes long, eager strides back up the stairs to check in on Regulus, feeling already like it's been too long. She pushes open her bedroom door, expecting to see him there pacing or looking through the objects she has littered about her cluttered room or reading some centuries old book she's never heard of, but Regulus is collapsed, sprawled out on the top of her bed and snoring lightly.

Warmth spreads through her, and the smile grows. Maybe she could marry him. Looking at him then, limp and with his curls hanging down on his forward, she figures if he asked again, she'd say yes. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Morning light pours through Jo's window, and when she wakes, she's almost surprised to see Regulus there, laying across from her, eyes shut and sleeping soundly. She didn't think it was realistic that she would have dreamed it, her imagination had never done Regulus justice. But it's nice to have confirmation. He's real, in her bed, alive and with her.

It occurs to her then that she's never seen him like this. Regulus has always been on guard, even with her, never letting himself rest or relax. But now, he's safe and disarmed, mouth slightly agape as he sleep, and Jo is so devastatingly charmed by him. She can't help herself; she reaches towards him and brushes his hair back and out of his face.

He's just so beautiful, long eyelashes brushing against his skin, a bit of a rosy glow in his cheeks. He's perfect. She leans in and kisses a freckle on his cheek, gentle, so as not to wake him. Even now, with hollowed cheeks and stubborn bruises, Jo's in love with the sight of him. And he looks so peaceful as he sleeps there, so at ease that the idea of waking him almost breaks her heart.

Her thumbs traces along the edge of his jaw. She knows it's not safe for him here. It really won't be safe for him anywhere, not as a defected Death Eater. Maybe she can go into hiding with him, but Jo's not partial to that idea, not eager to leave the home her parents built for her. Maybe she can get Dumblebore to put a few more protections around the Potter home. He's certainly proven himself enough for it. It would make healing Order Members a little trickier, but she's sure she can sort it out.

And it's when Jo's swimming in these thoughts and a loud slam makes her jump out of her skin. Her hand is around her wand, and she's leapt out of her bed before she can even process that noise was none other than her idiot brother, standing there in the middle of her room, clutching a newspaper in his one hand, wand waving wildly in the other.

Heat rushes to her cheeks as she stares down at James, who now stands frozen in the middle of Jo's room. They're both hyper-aware of the shirtless Regulus, who had jumped awake at the sudden intrusion and is now sitting upright in Jo's bed, looking back and forth between the two siblings, forcing composure.

James, face now as red as his sister's, raises the newspaper in his hand. "Josie," he starts slowly, "what is he doing here?"

Jo is irate at once, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you think he's doing here James?" she rushes out. "Use your goddamn brain for once and get out."

"I'm sorry, I'm just a little confused here, Josie," James continues on, raising the tip of his wand to his temple, and then pointing it back at Regulus, "seeing as he's supposed to be dead."

The newspaper draws Jo's attention now as James presents it to his sister. Jo yanks it out of his hand, and sure enough, the headline across the Daily Prophet reads, Black Heir Dead at Nineteen. Jo furrows her brow as Regulus wordlessly crawls out of bed to see for himself. He stands behind Jo, reading silently over her shoulder. "Hmm," he muses quietly, "this is certainly a kinder obituary than I expected."

Jo crumples up the newspaper and throws it back at James, who lets it bounce off his chest and fall to the ground. "Well, clearly he's not dead, so get out of here."

"Josie, you can't just keep him here like a house pet, alright?" James snaps back at her, avoiding meeting Regulus's gaze and pretending his face isn't bright red. "If I could burst through your door and find him here, anyone could! And with how things are going with the Order, maybe the next person that does might not be as friendly as me."

Regulus looks down at Jo. "Things are bad with the Order?"

"Things are very bad with the Order," James answers for her, ignoring the eye roll from Jo. "They are so bad that I'm a bit worried my sister housing a Death Eater defector might be a death sentence!"

"James-" Jo starts, exasperated.

But he just continues on. "No, listen Josie, you don't know because you haven't been going to meetings. But things are getting worse. There's rumors that there's a spy in the Order, alright? Someone feeding information to You-Know-Who. And if it gets out to anyone, anyone, that he's here with you when he should be dead, then it's over."

Jo does not take this well. The news hits her in the stomach like a brick. A rat in the Order. Her skin crawls. She shakes her head. "What'll you have me do then, James? Hmm? Should I toss him out onto the streets? Is that what you would do, if it were Lily?"

And she expects some sort of argument from James, but Regulus places a hand on his shoulder. "No, he's right," Regulus says quietly, "it's not safe for you, with me here. It was easy enough for Kreacher to get me past the wards, could happen again." He looks past Jo, over to James. "The house itself isn't protected enough."

James looks a bit uncomfortable at Regulus agreeing with him. Either that or his lack of clothing. He nods stiffly. "Dumbledore wanted to speak with me today. I'll ask him about it, when I see him. See what he says." He turns to Jo, eyes stern, "and in the meantime, don't let anyone inside this house. I'm serious. Alright? No healing anyone or gossiping with Remus about how much you both love your little boyfriends."

Jo, with a severe and unimpressed look, points out the door. "Get out."

James lifts his hands, defeated. "Fine, I'll leave," he concedes, "but I'm coming back later with news. And maybe next time we'll be a little bit more dressed!"

"Maybe next time don't burst through my closed door at seven in the bloody morning," Jo calls after him, but he's already gone, leaving the crumpled newspaper behind.

Jo sighs, and slumps back on the edge of her bed. "A spy in the Order," she mumbles to herself, and then looks back up at him. "Not a chance you'd have any idea about that, would you?"

Regulus shakes his head. "Privacy's important to them. Couldn't tell you who was sat next to me at the few meetings I did attend." He makes his way over to that crumpled up piece of newspaper and uncurls in, eyes scanning over the lines. "This should buy us some time, I think," he mumbles.

Black Heir Dead at Nineteen. Even reading the words fills Jo with dread. Black Heir Dead at Nineteen. She tries to push them out of her mind. She tries not to think of the other Black brother, sitting in his flat in London and reading those very same words.