I'M BACK, BITCHES! I know. I'm early, but don't get used to it. I just had a lot of free time right now and I wanted to use it with something not productive at all for my real life, so here you have another chapter and it's... long-ish.

I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH THIS SONG PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT LMAO.

I hope you all like it, because here we have THE MARK.

LEAVE COMMENTS!!

Regulus Black was often glad he was still courting Luna Lupin, even though she had not been allowed in that gathering in the Black Family House, because that meant that every young lady and their mamas wouldn't dare approach him to pretend to strike a conversation with his mother and father for the sake of leaving him to converse with their daughter, who was as interested in him as he was in her – and by that, one meant not at all. Therefore, he was left happy and content, half-hidden in the shadows of his parents and near the wall, ever the wallflower his mother had forbidden him from being when he was fourteen and his older brother left the family, making him the next heir to a dukedom he barely understood.

However, by the time eleven of night rolled in and people were still gathering in their house, Regulus started noticing that some of the familiar faces were not all political or friends of their parents. There were international guests that his mother whispered towards his father that she had not invited, so they might have been invited by his cousin Bellatrix.

That was when Regulus knew his time had run out.

Silently, he exchanged a look with his father, who tensed beside his mother. They made no comment of it to Walburga, knowing that she would notice it soon enough as well.

"Is Uncle Alphard not coming tonight?" Regulus asked in a low voice, trying to move the conversation away from the French witches standing near the window.

Walburga sighed in obvious annoyance. "He was invited, yes, but he gave me the most obnoxious excuse to now showing up!"

"Which was?"

"He didn't want to. How rude!" Walburga said.

Orion's lips twitched as he tried his best not to let too much of his amusement slip through at his wife's words.

"Well, perhaps it's for the best, I can see that many of these people are here for Bellatrix, and we both know how Alphard feels about her and her friends," Orion said.

"He always goes on and on about how ridiculous things got after she was married off, and I do agree that without her mother's constant attention and scolding she... bloomed into a spirited young woman," Walburga said, choosing her words wisely, not wanting to be overheard. "But marriage can do that to a lady, I suppose."

"From a rebel to a well-behaved lady, in your case. And a young lady into a wild one in hers," Orion said, content with his comparison. "I fear I like your change better, darling."

Walburga gave him such a scalding glare that Orion looked away before her eyes turned as sharp as ice, looking away from her husband with a new layer of sheer rage. She seemed to forget for a few minutes that she was still angry at Orion before he said something that would remind her, and then she would grow cold and distant again for hours, or perhaps the rest of the day.

They were trying to control themselves to not argue or fight in front of Regulus, to which she was grateful, but it didn't mean that he didn't know what happened as soon as their bedroom door closed for a few hours, while they pretended to sleep, but were arguing under the silence-charm on their walls. Regulus had caught Orion walking out of the room towards another bedroom in the middle of the night, they had made eye contact, but neither mentioned that Orion had woken up in a different bedroom from his wife, which had not happened since the last time Walburga had last postpartum abstinence and confinement.

The presence of Lord Malfoy, his son and his daughter-in-law, however was the first signal something a lot bigger than a simple presentation was happening. Abraxas Malfoy had been avoiding public gatherings for months since his affair with Druella was exposed, and coming alongside his heir was uncharacteristic.

"Regulus –" started Orion.

"I know. Tonight," Regulus whispered.

Walburga didn't need to be filled in anymore. She knew what the two meant. Regulus was to be Marked that very night.

What a beautiful night for something so dreadful to happen, too. The doors and windows were open, letting a night summer breeze blow into the house and the smells of the flowers in the garden to come through, covering up the growing smell of dark magic as people piled up in the room.

It was the reaction of Bellatrix, who was talking to her husband and Abraxas Malfoy, that made it clear to Regulus that the person they all had been expecting before starting the gathering in the way Bellatrix had intended had arrived. Because as soon as the middle-aged man walked in with two men walking right behind him (Elijah Parkinson and his newest friend, an Italian pureblood named Giovanni Farinelli, Regulus quickly recognised), Bellatrix made a squeaking sound that made her husband turn to look at her and made Abraxas stop talking completely. Even from so far away, Regulus and his family heard the commotion that followed as the man walked further into the house.

Either because of the way Parkinson glared at everybody as he walked along or the sense of confidence exhaling from the unknown man walking with his chin held high, the crowd parted to allow the ground to walk straight towards Lord and Lady Black.

Elijah Parkinson was the first to bow his head respectfully, for having no title was always a weight he didn't like having on his shoulders, but he always respected his father's and older brother's friends. Farinelli followed after a second, clearly uncomfortable with the movement. But the nameless man did not look away from Orion's eyes.

Orion took a step forward, body angling just enough to be half in front of Regulus as he raised chin higher.

"Welcome to my house, Misters," Orion greeted.

"Lord Black, always a pleasure," Mister Parkinson said. "Allow me the honour to introduce you to Mister Farinelli and Lord Voldemort. My Lord, this is Lord Orion Black and his wife, the Lady Black."

Orion's eyes turned to the man dubbing himself 'Lord', followed by no known and respected surname, but pushing himself into a position where he tried to equal himself to the rest of the purebloods of title in that gathering.

"Lord 'Voldemort'?" Orion repeated, tasting the name into his mouth. "Charmed."

"Indeed," answered the man.

Walburga Occluded the desire of raising her eyebrows at the impertinence of the man. Her hand reached for Regulus' back, petting it gently once in clear warning to be ready for whatever it was to come.

"Feel free and welcome to use any facilities of the house as you see fit, Lord Voldemort," Walburga said gently, taking in the part as Lady of the House. "My niece, Lady Lestrange, was ever enthusiastic with your presence in this gathering, as simple as it was."

'Simple' perhaps wasn't the best word to describe well the gathering that Bellatrix and Walburga had concocted together. While on the smaller side of the events that Walburga was used to holding as Lady of the House, the gathering took a lot of money, the use of her finest porcelain (rewarded to her as a wedding gift from her own father), the most expensive wine and champagne in the basement and wonderfully intricate dresses to be made the fastest the modiste could manage. She was a modest one when needed, however, though Orion was sure she would complain that 'Lord Voldemort' hadn't disagreed with the use of the word 'simple' as she had wished he'd do, though... perhaps that wouldn't even be a topic of the conversation that night, not when Voldemort's eyes turned to the top of Regulus' head appearing over Orion's shoulder.

"And you must be the Heir, Regulus Black," Lord Voldemort said, lips stretching in a handsome smile. "Yes, it could only be with those eyes. You look as beautiful as your mother, boy."

There was some mockery in the way he said so, which made Regulus look up at him and gently nudge his mother to the side, standing in front of her, beside his father to present himself properly to the man's eyes.

"I am, Lord," Regulus said, bowing his head a lot less than Parkinson had done to his parents. He looked up again, meeting the man's brown eyes.

Voldemort's eyes watched his expression but stopped at the small, golden decorative pin, strung by a green silk ribbon in his waistcoat, half-hidden by his outercoat.

"A lover's token!" he said, voice genuine in interest. He reached for it. "May I see it?"

Regulus didn't want him to.

"Yes," he answered.

Regulus unpinned the token from the waistcoat, the rounded gold locket. He unlocked it and put it on Voldemort's waiting palm, who made a cooing noise as the sight, as if Regulus was an amusing child. But his mouth pressed his lips together once he aw the contents of it – it wasn't a portrait of Regulus' lover as he had expected, as many young men held in their possessions. It was a half-portrait, revealing only the sight of Luna's eyebrow, some of her golden hair and her green eyes (the same shade of the ribbon that strung it to the pin), the corner of her eyes was of slightly wrinkled alabaster skin, revealing she was smiling.

"My uncle is a painter. He gifted it to me as an early birthday gift since he'll be out of the country for a while. He was commissioned to Germany to pain the portrait of a young lady in the marriage mart," Regulus explained, trying to make the man look away from Luna's portrait. "I do not see my courtship partner as often as I'd wish, and I fear our time together is running out. I shall not dwell on the relationship for longer that one must, as I intent on following my mother's request for me to marry a young lady of pure breeding, as an Heir should do."

Voldemort hummed, closing the locket and giving it back to Regulus. The younger man had to hold off the relief by Occluding it. He closed his fits around the locket though, regardless of the fact that the pin pricked his finger.

"I was told, indeed, that you are in an active courtship. A... half-blood girl from Hogwarts, am I correct?" Voldemort asked.

"You are."

"And you don't plan on following it through once school is over," Voldemort said.

Regulus opened his mouth to insist on keeping his relationship alive through his years in Law Academy as well, but Orion put his hand on Regulus' shoulder. A quiet warning and a reminder of the weight the answer would have, much like his heavy hand had on his shoulder.

"No."

"Regulus is a good boy. He knows what he is doing," Orion added to his answer when he saw Regulus did not plan on continuing.

Voldemort gave a slow, dramatic nod of approval. "Good, good."

Bellatrix' arrival made Regulus comfortable enough to glance over his father to find some answer of what he should say next while Voldemort turned to Bellatrix to welcome her into the conversation. Orion's blank face, however, gave him no answer.

"My Lord!" Bellatrix said, bowing her head and bending her knees at the same time. It was overdoing for a lady of her own worth, but nobody made a comment on it. "It's such an honour to have you here. I hope everything is to your liking, sir."

"It's a beautiful house," he said simply. He turned his head again to look at Walburga standing half-hidden behind her husband and son. "You and your niece are force of nature when it comes to womanly duties."

Walburga smiled sweetly. "A compliment of the highest ratings, Lord Voldemort, thank you."

Orion knew far too well that Walburga was weighing her shoe when she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, fantasising the act of throwing it at Voldemort's face. Gratefully, Walburga was far too controlled in public to do such a mistake.

"Well, we shall commence," Voldemort said suddenly, turning to Parkinson with a stiff nod. The man almost ran to gather the correct people. "If you allow me, Lady Black, I shall take over the gathering now."

"As you wish," she answered.

Regulus took a step back, looking around the crowd of people moving as Elijah and Abraxas talked with them in lower voices, herding the people to stand in a corner and giving space for Lord Voldemort to stand, facing the crowd.

Orion guided Regulus and Walburga through the crowd to the space nearest to the door, away from Voldemort's eyes.

"He has a lot of support," Orion whispered.

Walburga looked around suspiciously, seeing the way people were struggling to the that 'Lord', keen to listen to his words.

"The Parkinsons and the Malfoys are big names, even without the proper titles," Walburga said.

"The Malfoys do have titles," Regulus reminded her.

"Baronets are hardly nobles," Walburga said, bitterly.

"Regardless, they have good social standing and political backing. If they are supporting that Lord Voldemort, then many will follow without question. Standing against them will ostracise any attempts I do inside the Wizengamot, much like the Potters are; I will lose every support I have," Orion said. "It cannot be undone. Regulus, I will have no allow him to do what he wishes."

"Even Mark me," Regulus added, understanding his father's meaning.

Walburga turned to her husband, eyes burning. Livid.

"You'll allow your Heir to follow instead of lead?" she asked.

Regulus wanted to say that that was hardly the correct worry, but how could he start a discussion?

"If he climbs ranks as Bellatrix insists that he can do, he will lead under his command," Orion said sharply. He hardly ever shut down Walburga's opinions, but he didn't have the time to worry for her feelings. "We are to support him, Walburga. We are to follow him, if he so wishes. But, for now, we will allow only Regulus to go – it'll keep him safe. Joining the Knights of Walpurgis managed to keep him safe in Hogwarts, this might be the way to keep him safe out here as well."

And he gave Regulus a look.

Regulus understood at once.

It wasn't only about to keep him safe. It was about keeping Luna safe, as his Hogwarts adventures had done.

Surprised by the emotional support, ever silent and discreet, Regulus just stared at his father before fortifying his Occlumency shields and giving him a final nod.

"As you wish, Father," he said.

Walburga seemed less angry now, knowing that her son's relief and more relaxed shoulders meant something that she couldn't understand completely, but knowing that her son's acceptance might mean his safety.

Thankfully, Voldemort started speaking, getting everybody's attention. Unfortunately, Bellatrix was approaching and pointing at Regulus.

Regulus was led forward to stand behind Voldemort, trying not to look too much into the fact that Lucius Malfoy was dragging Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Junior alongside him to stand beside Regulus.

Voldemort smiled, already past the pleasantries in his speech.

"And we stand here tonight, within the heart of the ancestral home of the Black Family as courtesy from our wonderful Lord Orion Black. 'Tis a House that upheld the sacred laws of blood and tradition since its formation, a House that has refused to bed to the corrupted ways and tides of impurity and decay!" Voldemort spoke, taking a step forward and relishing in the attention he received. "Outside these walls, my friends and equals, the world is crumbling! It is impossible for you all not to feel it. The world stinks of it – the stench of weakness, the weakness that grows by the dilution of our powerful magical blood with theirs. That weakness seeps through our society like poison in our veins. And all o fit is the work of those who wield wands they do not deserve, who stand among us and act as our equals when they are not!"

A tidal wave of muttering of agreement made Regulus' eyes go across the room. He could not see his parents, but he wondered if they would agree with the man's speech, even if they did not like the war he was willingly endorsing.

"These so called 'Muggle-borns' are just filthy mudbloods, trying to rebrand their disgusting selves into something more... digestible. And many fools fall for it, for his travesty of wrapping their filth in silk – trying to turn their mud into gold. They are stealing magic form ancient lines! So many of your good, deserving children are being born without a drop of magical blood in their veins because of these mysterious rituals they do to degrade our magic, and still they expect us to kneel in welcome," Voldemort said. He made a movement with his arm in anger. People continued to agree with the buzzing of a swarm of bees. "Those witless creatures found ways to slaughter each other in numbers so great that the lad itself weep! Those who are old enough to remember the war that left many of us to move away from England for safety, and even then, it wasn't safe because the whole world was in war – and it was their second war with such proportions. They hunt their own, burn their own and call them witches when they are not – we left mostly unharmed from their attempts, but their own could not say the same. They cannot control themselves because they fear what they cannot control, so more wars are to come. And we are expected to share our world with them? Let them dictate our future? I say 'no'! I say we make one last war to end all wars!"

Someone cheered louder than others, which made Voldemort scowl as he turned his back to the public. He clearly hated being interrupted, but he allowed as more and more people started to cheer as well. His sharp eyes sweep the room, daring anyone to deny him claims now he had said it out loud. He found none.

Regulus pressed his lips together, uncomfortable as Evan started clapping alongside most of the crowd. Barty exchanged a look with Regulus, unsure of what to do as he, too, was uncomfortable. Neither of them liked how eager Evan was to follow someone else, even if Barty was starting to agree with the main ideas of the group.

Voldemort presses forward, his voice and words dripping with conviction.

"Magic is our right, not a privilege. It is not something to be handed out like alms to the underserving of our power. It's our birthright, carved into the blood of the greatest families present here today. And yet, even among us, there are those who would open the gates to them, who would let them darken their doorsteps and greet them as friends. They call it progress. But I call it surrender! But hear me, my faithful: we shan't surrender. We shall never bow. We shall not watch as centuries of our culture and greatness are spat upon by those who would see our kind reduced to myths in dusty books. We must restore the world to its proper order – wizards as the rulers, not equals!"

He passed, letting his meaning and intentions settle before stepping further forward, lowering his voice to draw people in.

"Tonight, we welcome new brothers into our ranks. They are young, but they aren't weak like the others," he said, gesturing towards the three boys standing behind him. "They upstand our ideals and have proven themselves worthy, and they shall be Marked tonight. But let this be known – this is not the end of their trials. This is only the beginning. The Dark Mark, as many decided to call it, and I accepted in a show of humility, is not just a symbol; it's a bond, a promise written in blood. This calling is something few of the strong ones are able to answer."

His gaze stops on Regulus for a second longer than the other two standing beside him. His lips curled into something that was neither quite a smile nor a sneer, but something far more powerful – a silent declaration of ownership.

"Kneel, then, my chosen ones. Kneel and prepare to take your place among the elite. The world will bow before us, or it'll burn."

The room erupted into thunders of applause and murmurs of admiration and devotion. The initiates stepped forward and Voldemort lifted his wand.

Pain. Horrible, dreadful, blinding white pain... It hurt... hurt... hurt... He wished he was dead at once.

His head hurt. His body hurt. His arm burned... burned... burned... he was on fire, and nobody was helping him while he screamed... screamed... screamed. There was somebody else crying. He wondered if the person was alright.

When the first test had come, it had been a test of fear where he had been forced to face is most horrible fear, and he had half-expected to see his family and Luna crying in pain as he stood by helpless as a child, but it was the contrary. Nobody could see him. Isolated, underserving of love or hate. Invisible. And he woke up on his knees in front of Lord Voldemort, who laughed at his fear and of his pathetic reaction – shaking, trembling, pale. Then the second test, and it had been his best one yet. A trial of logic. A riddle. "I can exist in two places at once and yet I am never whole. I reflect, I mimic, yet I have no soul. To break me is easy, yet some never recover – what am I?". And there was only one answer. A soul.

And then the worst one. The third test. The trial of pain.

And now he screamed... screamed... screamed...

There was a bitter taste in his mouth and an acrid smell. He hoped he hadn't thrown up in front of everybody watching.

Regulus stared at Barty sitting in the Black Family House's sofa.

While Regulus had screamed his head off in pain in all fours on the floor, Barty had thrown up all over himself and lied on the floor in a limbo between consciousness. Evan had screamed, yes, but he had managed to keep himself on his knees, much stronger than Barty or Regulus had been.

"Barty, it's over. Stop shaking," Evan said, narrowing his eyes at his friend. "Will you sleep over or do you want to go back home? Because your father will ask questions."

"He won't. He never does," Barty said. He looked up. "I thought it was going to be my fear, you know? Knowing certainly that he does not care, but it wasn't. His indifference is a lot better than his anger, I suppose. That's what I saw in that vision, you see? His anger. He had found out and... --" he stopped himself.

"Found out what?" Regulus asked, leaning forward.

Barty looked up at him, eyes wide as he tried to keep his tears within.

"Who I... The sort of people that I date," Barty said.

Evan sighed, walking from his place by the window towards his friend and put a hand on his shoulder in an obvious attempt of comfort.

"He won't ever find out unless you want to tell him, Barty. Nobody who can't know seems to have an inkling," Evan said in a calm voice. "Come on, once you stop shaking, you can get your overnight bag from your house and come over to my house."

"Do you think your parents will mind? Your mother doesn't like me," Barty whispered, clearly still upset.

Regulus looked away from the slightly intimate scene.

"Your fear was anger?" he said out loud, still looking through the window. "Mine was not being seen at all. What was yours, Evan?"

Evan frowned, looking over his shoulder to his other friend before turning to him. He knew that Regulus couldn't see him, but he tried to keep him expression schooled regardless.

"My family hitting Pandora, and I could stop it. Isolation, rejection and powerlessness. What a trio we are!" scoffed Evan, crossing his arms and changing the weight of his body from one leg to the other. "Not dramatic at all."

Before Regulus come make a single comment about how the fears seemed completely reasonable, the double doors to the sitting room opened and two of the people Regulus least wanted to see walked in, still he turned to face them completely as Evan took his hand off Barty as if he had been burned.

Dorian Burke and Severus Snape.

"Good evening, lads," Dorian said, laughing a bit. "I'm sorry for missing the celebrations, but I was working."

"Oh, you haven't done a proper day of work in your life, Burke," Severus said, rolling his eyes. Dorian turned a bit to glare at him. "You were on watch duty."

"Watch duty?" Barty asked, turning to look at the boys.

Severus nodded.

"Lord Voldemort wanted us to come over and tell you all about it," Severus said. "It's our first duty in the group, and it might be the first one for all of you as well."

"What is it?" Regulus asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore," Dorian said as if the name tasted disgusting in his mouth. "He's the leader of the resistance, so we'll need every single step he makes. We'll watch from outside, but someone needs to watch him from the inside of Hogwarts."

Evan nodded, hands behind his back.

"We can do that," he said, keenly.

Severus crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the corner table where a candelabra with the Black Family Crest on the silver. He watched it in some interest before turning to look at Regulus again.

"Not all of you, certainly. Lord Voldemort allowed us to choose who should look into it. And we chose Regulus and Barty for that," Severus said. He looked at the other boy in the room. "For you, Evan, we decided something more... your area."

For a second, Evan seemed really upset from being stopped from such an important mission as tracking the steps of someone so great as Albus Dumbledore. However, he was visibly trying to keep an open mind, because he gulped and looked down before looking at Severus once more, expecting his next sentence.

"Which would be?" Evan asked.

"Gathering more people for us," Dorian said. "I thought it would be an easier way for you to get involved – talking to people, convincing them, showing them the truth about our cause. You have always been so persuasive. I couldn't think of anyone better than you at that. A handsome face, some facts and a nice smile can get you far, and you know how to use all of those." He walked further into the room, closer to Evan. "I will give you everything that I had from our cause since I was the leader of the Knights of Walpurgis, and now it's your turn."

Regulus felt his stomach twist as he made sure nothing appeared on his face. Still, he was horrified with the idea of Evan with so much power – while he loved Evan like a brother, he knew that he wasn't a good leader. Evan was never good with power.

He looked away, ignoring that Severus Snape was watching him.

So... Regulus was Marked and we know for sure that Severus and Dorian are Death Eaters (which we already knew, but now we are certain of it).

More is coming soon! I hope you all liked it.