Acolytes

The following evening the shadows in Reginald's study were long, and dark as the grandfather clock in the corner of the study began to loudly toll. The clock hands on the grandfather clock met exactly in the middle signaling the witching hour had begun. The twelve tolls' finally cease to ring signaling to Reginald that it was time.

Reginald rose to feet and paused in front of the east corner of the study. Tracing a rune like pattern onto the east wall to reveal an enchanted, hidden closet. Prying the closet doors open, he removes a fine, silky black cloak from within. The cloak is rather heavy, but still with ease he manages to slide the cloak on in a smooth practiced motion.

The cloak is a thing of beauty as it almost seems to sparkle in the light appearing like the pitch-black scales of some sort of creature. And in fact, it was dyed dragon hide interwoven with Acromantula's silk to protect the wearer from spells. The cloak itself worth a small fortune and was incredibly rare to be found much less be purchased by any common wizard or witch. The creation of such a cloak required not only an immensely powerful, but a talented magical tailor to do the stitching. And rarely if ever was their enough dragon hide to forge such a cloak.

And the various Ministries across the entire wizarding world tightly regulated the use of dragon hide, and as such, such large pieces of dragon hides were almost impossible to buy except through unorthodox methods. But that was not the only impediment as Acromantula's silk is exorbitantly expensive to purchase by the yard given the vast difficulty of acquiring the silk of such a dangerous creature. As such, very few wizards or witches ever dared to face a dragon or collect the silk of such a terrifying magical spider for neither of these creatures took prisoners.

There is a pause as Reginald buttons the top of the cloak shut with a pin. The brooch itself was not extraordinary, it was a simple diamond shaped pin. Yet a glint of light from the fireplace glinted across the brooch to reveal the inscribed symbol on the diamond shaped pin. It was that of the Deathly Hallows.

Briskly striding away, Reginald emerged from the study and made his way down and into the front hall. He froze at seeing the seated figure calmly reading a book in her lap, his sister. Without glancing up from her book, Georgine carefully places her dragon bookmark between the pages, before saying, "You were very distant these last few days, brother, despite the children's return. And much to my surprise even Tadbey came to me with his concerns. Naturally, I just had to wait and see, what would come of it."

Putting her book aside to rest on the small table stand next to her, Georgine raises her gaze as her eyes widen in shock. There standing before her was not her brother, but something out of her past nightmares. A chilling icy figure that resembled their father far too much to be of comfort, Rancor Prince in his prime, a monster.

Georgine's eyes flicker to the cloak which she had seen in her eleventh year, the summer just before Hogwarts. She had never forgotten that day nor what her brother became that summer. Pausing to stop the trembling of her lips, she finally hisses, "Brother, what are you doing?!"

"What is necessary," Reginald calmly retorted.

A wild burst of laughter emerges from Georgine's throat as she frostily spits out, "Let me guess for the Greater Good, was it?! Have you finally gone mad, Reginald! What sheer insanity are you blathering on about now of all times?!"

"Step aside, Georgine," Reginald matter-of-factly stated. "I will not ask again."

Georgine's eyes widen in shock for a moment before a fierce expression crosses her face in defiance. Rising from her seat, she plants herself right in her brother's path. "I do not claim to understand your thoughts, brother," Georgine coldly said. "But asking the Acolytes for aid will not protect the children, but only serve to destroy them."

Reginald's expression seems frustrated by his younger sister's defiance, but nevertheless his expression softens just a smudge. "Georgine, have faith in me," he finally replied."

Georgine shakes her head at her brother and says, "It is not that I do not trust you, brother, but I fear for your sake, truly." Her voice breaks as she closes her eyes and continues "I remember that time only all too well, Reginald. You were still so full of anger and blood thirst that you accepted the summons of that man in Paris! I saw you return late that evening-."

Georgine eyes snap open as she stares at her brother with something akin to horror. "And I knew in that very moment, Reginald, that you had sold your soul to the devil," Georgine whispered. "You can lie all you wish, brother, but I remember the blood. All that innocent blood that was shed at your hands, and all the while being accompanied by that infernal cloak!"

Pointing at the very cloak Reginald was wearing, Georgine eyes narrow to slits as she snarls, "That infernal cloak that is still to this day drenched in the blood of your victims. And I cannot help but wonder now, brother, if everything that has come to pass is not divine punishment for those vicious atrocities, and terrible sins that were committed at your hands?"

Reginald eyes half-close as if numb or tired, before opening fully again. "Perchance," Reginald answered," that may very well be the case. But I will promise you this, Georgine, I am not seeking their approval nor my re-acceptance as an Acolyte."

"Then why seek them out, Reginald?" Georgine roared. "What can you possibly gain meeting with them again at this juncture in time?!

"I cannot speak of it now, sister," Reginald truthfully said. "But I must learn what I can, whilst I can still move, it is of vital importance."

Despite seeing her brother's solemn expression, Georgine is not convinced. "Reginald, I have never doubted you before not even once. But the one who pulled you away at that time was not I, but Sirsa. And even then, it was only until the birth of Eileen that you truly pulled away forever."

Georgine hesitated for a moment, before saying, "I know, brother, that the blood of the Percussor's is fully awake inside of you, when in comparison to myself or the children. But, because of that same reason, I fear that you will be led away once again. There is an unquenchable thirst for blood still lurks inside of you, and all that is needed is a single taste, and I fear that you will be lost to us forever, Reginald."

"I am acutely aware of my own failings, Georgine," Reginald stiffly answered, knowing full well that younger sister spoke nothing but the truth. But weakness or not, he had a task to fulfill. And he must learn that which he sought at any cost.

Brushing past his sister, Reginald murmurs, "I will return before morning," before storming out of the Prince Manor to apparate away on the dark grounds.

Pressing her lips hard enough to hurt, Georgine stares at the figure of her brother that fades away swiftly in the darkness. She should have reached for her wand. But a part of her still wanted to believe in her brother's words despite what her eyes saw. It was a terrible flaw to have to say the least.

With a tired expression, Georgine slumps back down into her seat, and reaches for her wand. Closing the door shut, she silently waits for her brother's return. Even if it took all night, she would wait, and guard the manor until her brother's return. That is all she could do, and she would protect the children if need be even in her brother's stead.