good things fall apart • sirius black

Good things fall apart

He went on to tell her about the way the Death Eaters met, how Lord Voldemort called them to him, the types of things he had planned. Apparently, there were never specifics, or at least, the newest members didn't get a whole picture image of any attack they were going to be sent on. It was a case of climbing the ranks, and Rabastan had vowed to do anything, no matter how horrendous, to ensure that he could mole as much information to the Order as possible. Ellie wasn't going to tell anyone that this was happening, she'd make up stories for how she was collecting information, lie to Sirius if she had to, for this was more important. Ending this war would always come first.

"And Regulus?" The question that Ellie had been dreading the answer too.

"He's there every single meeting and the rest of the Blacks aren't." Rabastan told her reluctantly. "In fact, apart from him and Bellatrix, I don't think any of the Blacks have actually taken the mark. Not even Narcissa, and Lucius has... Regulus sits there like the perfect little soldier, but it's strange because he never contributes. He's just silent, listening. Part of me wants to hope that he's there for the same reasons I am."

"Could you find out?" She asked, another request that would put him in an even more precarious position.

"I'll try and get close to him, but I doubt he'll talk. It'll put us both at risk."

"I know." Ellie sighed, "What you're doing already is more than enough, Rab, really. You're brilliant." 

"I hope it remains that way." He chuckled bitterly.

"If it doesn't, we'll hide you, it's as simple as that. My dad's house has a secret keeper and Sirius has a house with plenty of enchantments around it. There are places you'd be safe."

Rabastan shook his head.

"There wouldn't be anywhere safe if he decided he wanted me dead. No one stands a chance once he's set his mind like that."

The conversation that followed didn't last very long, and it wasn't very pleasant either, but it was necessary. They made plans to meet up again in a couple of weeks, but in the meantime, they'd write in code and under aliases.

The miserable lives they'd lead during this war began now.

Wishing Rabastan good luck and then saying goodbye to Lamar and Nicolas, Ellie flooed back to the wizarding street in Bristol (their smaller version of Diagon Alley) so she could stop off at a gardeners on the way back to the flat. She needed flowers for the funeral, and then she needed the walk to clear her head, but she didn't anticipate that her arms would quickly become tired from carrying a plethora of potted plants. I used to be a Beater for Merlin's sake. 

She struggled to reach into her pocket for her key once she was back at the flat, so she mumbled an 'alohomora' and barged through the door with an exhausted sigh - it was definitely time for her to get her apparition licence. But at least she was home now.

Home; that though always made her grin.

She slumped over the tiny circular dining table as she set the plants down, making sure to then flap her hand and lock the door behind her. Bristol might be safe, but they weren't going to take any chances. Taking one of the pots over to the kitchen sink, she gave the plant a good water, the flowers so perfectly golden that she forgot to call out to say she was back. For a few minutes, Ellie stood there examining each petal, pinching a couple between her fingers, pulling gently on the flower stems to make them sit in the right position, poking at the soil to make sure it was good quality. The plants she'd left back on the dining table had to be perfect, but this one she'd watered was even more important.