"DON'T LIE TO ME," Remus roars, squaring his stance and drawing back his wand into an offensive position. He's got the slender piece of cyprus in a vice grip, but his hand at least has stopped shaking as the unyielding force of his rage overwhelms him, fueled even hotter by the look on Regulus' face. Regulus, who's so practiced and adept at controlling his micro-expressions that he can fool even the Dark Lord himself into thinking he's one of his most loyal followers; or, as has been made so excruciatingly clear to Remus, to trick the good into trusting him with false pretenses of hurt and pathetic displays of alleged inner turmoil.
If he were in his right mind, Remus might have realized that it was the degree to which Regulus' betrayal had hurt him (like a serrated blade plunged straight through his heart) that was causing him to lose himself so completely. He can't bear the pain of knowing how wrong he'd been, nor does he have the capacity to fully process the complete mess he's made by letting one of the Dark Lord's servants into his heart at the cost of someone he loves so dearly. He's paying a price of a magnitude that he can't fully comprehend yet, and the sheer immensity of his guilt and remorse is simply too much. And so he's retreated into the safety of that ferocious anger, so much akin to what he experiences when he transforms in the sense that he hardly knows what he's saying anymore, but merely aims to hurt, and will only come back to himself in time to witness the damage he's left in his wake:
"You may have exposed me for the fool that I am but no more. I know it was you - you and that lunatic, Lestrange - Sirius said so himself, so don't you dare think you can show yourself here and try to claim anything otherwise." His eyes blaze as the words spill forth, unchecked and raw with emotion. "You had me so blinded, didn't you, you snake? Wrapped around your slippery little finger. I fell for every one of your sorry tales of threats and manipulation when it was never something done to you, but taught to you, wasn't it?"
He draws a ragged breath, eyes narrowing, his wand hand never wavering and his gaze never breaking from where it holds Regulus'. When he continues, his words are low and dangerous, tight with the vengeance that he has ready to unleash at a moment's notice. "It took what you did to Sirius to open my eyes, but I see you now, Regulus Black, for who you really are–"
Savagely, he spits onto the floor at Regulus' feet. "You're just like your parents."
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If he were in his right mind, Remus might have realized that it was the degree to which Regulus' betrayal had hurt him (like a serrated blade plunged straight through his heart) that was causing him to lose himself so completely. He can't bear the pain of knowing how wrong he'd been, nor does he have the capacity to fully process the complete mess he's made by letting one of the Dark Lord's servants into his heart at the cost of someone he loves so dearly. He's paying a price of a magnitude that he can't fully comprehend yet, and the sheer immensity of his guilt and remorse is simply too much. And so he's retreated into the safety of that ferocious anger, so much akin to what he experiences when he transforms in the sense that he hardly knows what he's saying anymore, but merely aims to hurt, and will only come back to himself in time to witness the damage he's left in his wake:
"You may have exposed me for the fool that I am but no more. I know it was you - you and that lunatic, Lestrange - Sirius said so himself, so don't you dare think you can show yourself here and try to claim anything otherwise." His eyes blaze as the words spill forth, unchecked and raw with emotion. "You had me so blinded, didn't you, you snake? Wrapped around your slippery little finger. I fell for every one of your sorry tales of threats and manipulation when it was never something done to you, but taught to you, wasn't it?"
He draws a ragged breath, eyes narrowing, his wand hand never wavering and his gaze never breaking from where it holds Regulus'. When he continues, his words are low and dangerous, tight with the vengeance that he has ready to unleash at a moment's notice. "It took what you did to Sirius to open my eyes, but I see you now, Regulus Black, for who you really are–"
Savagely, he spits onto the floor at Regulus' feet. "You're just like your parents."