Hiraeth | Regulus Black

Chapter One Hundred and Eight

There's always the fear as you get to know people more and more that perhaps, no matter how much you hope to avoid it, eventually you'll find out something about them - not just something, but the one thing that permanently changes your perception of them. Once that happens, the person before you becomes completely different. They're not a stranger, because you now know more about them, but they're not someone you want to know anymore. Your whole perception of who they are has been altered.

There's always the chance, as you learn more about someone, that eventually you'll discover something that makes you not like them anymore. Perhaps to know people more is to love them less. That is, you hope, until you find the one person that you want to spend the rest of your life with. If you believe in that.

Regulus Black used to feel hesitant about the fact that something would come between him and Esmerelda. He had used to fear that she would suddenly decide she didn't like him anymore - that there was something about him that she secretly hated. He had feared that one day she would realise he wasn't brave or strong enough for her. Perhaps she'd realised she hated how much tea he drank or that he didn't like spicy food.

But that had never happened, and as time had progressed, Regulus didn't fear that anymore.

Esme loved him, and he trusted her wholeheartedly so there was no need for concern. If she told him she loved him, then he knew that was the truth.

"Are you ready?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Regulus lifted his gaze to look over at Esmerelda.
Over the years of war, she hadn't changed all that much. Esme was emerging on the other side, emotionally hurt having been through so much, but she didn't look wounded.

Her dark hair had grown much longer, and her green eyes much lighter. She smiled slightly at him, the corners of her mouth turning upwards and revealing a small dimple by the left corner of her lips.
Most days, she still wore her all-too-familiar lopsided smirk and a shine in her eyes.

She was beautiful.

"What is it?" She asked, raising a hand to her pale face as if she suspected there was a mark on her skin.

Regulus shook his head, "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."
She hummed, then inquired, "About what?"

"About you."

Esme didn't reply straight away.
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him for a while before finally asking, "Well, what about me?"

"Nothing."
"Oh, come on!" She laughed, "You can't say that and then expect me to not want answers."
He chuckled slightly, "It was nothing, really."

"Listen, if you've got reservations about doing this, I get it. But you better tell me now, rather than when we get there." Esme said.
"What? No." Regulus shook his head quickly, "I don't have any reservations about this. Even if we didn't need to flee the country, I'd still want to do this with you. Do you have reservations?"

She sighed, "No. I just feel like we've left things at a bit of a loose end."
He smiled, wandered over to her and settled his hands on her waist, "We're meant to be dead. I don't think we can do anything now. There's nothing for us here. We've done everything that needed seeing to."
"You're right." She nodded.

Esme was twenty-one and Regulus twenty. If they had lived anywhere close to normal lives, they'd still be young souls ready to explore the world and find their purpose in life.
But the two of them had battled through a wizarding war, defied everything thrust upon them since birth, and emerged with a lot of loss hanging onto them.

They'd been hardened by the war, wisened by the schemes, and made much less trusting as a result of betrayal.

But there they were, their belongings packed and ready to move away and start a life together.
Their old selves being left behind - missing, presumed dead in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic, who believed them to be ruthless Death Eaters. Guilty, in the eyes of the public, of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.