novus_regulus (novus_regulus) wrote in novus_sceptrum, @ 2009-09-20 23:53:00 |
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Today, thankfully, was not a day when Regulus went on patrol. He did so regularly, three times a week, just so he could keep in touch with what his men were doing out in the world, even though he wasn't really required to do it. Today, though, he was in his office (an actual private office, the other Aurors had desks or cubbies out in the main office) filing paperwork and just generally musing about life.
On his desk was a photo frame, one that had been there for fourteen years, and occasionally he paused in his work to rest his chin on one hand and watch it. The pretty blonde witch in the picture smiled and waved at him, and the four-year-old boy sitting next to her laughed happily as he tore open presents. The brightly decorated tree sparkled behind them with a rainbow of ornaments, and through the window just past them he could see snow falling. That had been their last Christmas together as a family, and though he did miss them terribly time had at least lessened the sting.
Arcturus would have been about Orion's age today, if he had lived, and with Lunaria's modeling career starting to pick up just before that last Christmas she undoubtedly would have been a well-known model or actress by now. Either way, he would be looking at a picture of an older but just as pretty wife, and a nearly-adult son right now.
He sighed and went back to his paperwork, but his eyes kept trailing back up to the photo frame. He found himself wondering if Sirius, wherever he was, understood just how lucky a man he was. Probably not, Sirius had never really appreciated things fully. Unless he had changed dramatically during his years in exile (which was entirely possible, the man had obviously lost his damned mind and started shagging a werewolf).
Finally Regulus sighed and grabbed the picture frame, opening his bottom desk drawer and putting it in, sliding it closed. He sat there for a moment, tapping his pencil lightly against a case file, just thinking. That photo had never once moved from its place of prominence in fourteen years, it was strange to think that a simple whim could remove it from sight and pack it away. But, he supposed, time had mostly healed the wounds. He had moved on, and while he didn't have to ever forget them he knew that Lunaria would hate for him to stop living his own life.
He dug around in another drawer, finally finding the framed Famous Wizard Card that Honeydukes had given him when they'd added his face to their repertoire to commemorate his becoming the Chief of Aurors. He set it in the empty spot on his desk, considering it for a moment, then decided it would work until he found another photo before going back to his paperwork.