Walk the Mirrored Path
A plea to the Albion Magicks for guidance the day before the Triwizard First Task seemed like a good idea in theory. How it resulted in the soaked and shivering form of a near-dead Regulus Black, Holly hadn't a clue. Maybe she was supposed to use him as dragon bait? fem!Harry, Regulus x Harry, Neville x Hermione
x
It took a few moments for the light to fade away, and when it did, another moment for Holly to blink the irritation out of her corneas. When she had regained her sense of vision, the Gryffindor saw that the room had vastly changed. There were still ink and chalk markings on the floor, but the petals had scattered far outside of the ritual circle, the candles were burned to the very bottom, and there were only a few droplets of red wine left in the decanter. The biggest difference though was the lanky, black-cloaked figure lying curled in front of her, with Hermione's and Neville's wands trained on him.
Holly carefully got up, withdrew her wand, and took a massive step back.
"Neville, you're the one who studied Pureblood culture. Was the ritual a success or not?" It was a testament to how many difficult situations Holly Potter had been through in her short life that her voice could hold steady at this time.
"That depends on whether your bipolar luck massively worked to our advantage or totally screwed us over," the brunette wizard sighed.
"Language," Hermione rebuked absent-mindedly, eyes still focused on the prone wizard, "Well the ritual worked, and it was protection based around your family magic. He probably won't hurt us."
"I'd still feel safer if I had his wand with me," Holly replied, and then made a now-familiar motion, "Accio stranger's wand!"
A slim wand shot out of the stranger's pocket and smacked against her hand. Lifting it up to her eyes showed a polished walnut wood of a darker, thicker base and a slim ivy handle design. Of more interest was the slight parallel knicks placed by the tip of the handle, which Sirius had told her were common for DMLE officers since they helped keep a quick moving duelist from losing their grip.
The man's main weapon in her grasp, she made the flick-and-swish motion once again. "Accio other wands. Accio poisons. Accio weapons."
The first and second were null, but the third made her lean over to the side. A sheathed blade flew harmlessly past her, and caused Hermione to grimace. Now relatively sure that the stranger didn't pose a serious threat- her friends wands were still aimed at him after all- Holly stepped closer. He was lying face-down on the ground, and as she heaved him to his side, the green-eyed witch found that his robes were utterly soaked. More than that, closer inspection showed minute trembling throughout his body, which made sense since his skin was also freezing.
When he had fallen onto his back though, Holly stood still. Pale, aristocratic features, raven dark hair, an aquiline nose, and, should his eyelids open, she bet on striking grey eyes. The man was incredibly handsome, but more importantly, he was incredibly familiar.
"He could be Sirius' twin," Hermione whispered for her. Chocolate brown eyes widened in alarm. "Holly, please, please, please tell me that we didn't just summon the younger form of your godfather from the past."
"Hermione, we didn't just summon the younger form of Sirius from the past," Holly's shock broke, and she looked up with a teasing smile. "I don't know who this is, but it's definitely not Sirius."
She had traded enough letters with her godfather over the summer to know what Sirius' old wand had been like, and it was not made of polished walnut.
"Well he certainly looks like a Black, even though there shouldn't be any more males from that House," Neville observed, "Maybe he's a more distant relation, and those traits just happened to be prominent for him? The Blacks certainly married into enough Pureblood families for that."
"Only one way to find out," the Potter decreed, and proceeded to prove that she was a Gryffindor. "Ennervate."
'A dead ringer for Sirius' eyes,' Holly thought, as ink-black lashes fluttered blearily over confused silver-grey. The man who wore her godfather's face blinked rapidly, drawing up one hand to rub at his eyes and then looked up, confusion blurring into shock and fear. She thought to make a sound or gesture of comfort before the man suddenly propelled himself forward.
"Expelliarmus!" Red light tossed his body back into the wall, but the man only braced his body and rolled to the side, missing the next flash of orange-red. "Stupefy! Furnunculus! Incarcerous! Glacias!"
"Avis!"
"Hidera ligabis!"
The ice-blue of her final spell managed to strike his left arm, and soon he was trussed up in Neville's rope of ivy plants as Hermione's bright yellow birds pecked at his head. "Ow! Dammit, call them off!"
"Stop trying to move," Holly snapped back, the brief rush of adrenaline fading away. "Incarcerous. Okay you can take the birds off. Now who the hell are you?"
It retrospect, the dark-haired witch should have expected this. "Language!"
Hermione had the grace to blush as three sets of disbelieving eyes- Holly's leaf-green. Neville's hazel brown, and the man's silver grey- stared at her. She defended her position. "Well there's no need to be rude about it."
"The lady has a point," her most recent attacker admitted, the pleasant and steady tenor of his voice contrasting with the violent way his body still shivered, "Would you care to introduce yourselves?"
"Maybe the man that popped out of nowhere and tried to attack us should offer his name first," Holly said flatly.
The silver-grey eyes that were eerily familiar to her godfather's, but also filled with a certain reserve and immediate distrust that not even Azkaban had been able to instil into Sirius, stared at her. "That man also happens to be the one divested of his wand, rudely tied to the floor, and attacked by those infernal birds. The least I could be offered is an introduction to my attackers, yes?"
"We have your knife too," Neville added helpfully.
The man turned his attention to the Longbottom Scion, and his eyes widened. "Franklin?"
Her friend immediately stiffened, and after a second's confusion, Holly understood why. The only picture Neville had shown her of his parents had proved that he was a dead-ringer for his father. It's possible that this man didn't know what had happened to the elder Longbottoms, but even then… surely he knew that they were out of public society?
"Franklin Longbottom is his father," Hermione answered quietly, exchanging a brief and silent communication with Holly. She placed one comforting hand on Neville's arm, lowered her wand arm, and then fell silent as a thoughtful expression crossed her face. From personal experience, Holly knew that a theory was being debated in the Muggleborn witch's clever mind.
"That's ridiculous," the man shook his head in disbelief, "I know that his wife was pregnant, but the baby wasn't even supposed to be born for another four months! Who are you three? Where am I? How did you bring me here?!"
'He didn't recognize me either,' Holly observed. The dark-haired witch didn't consider that to be an arrogant assumption; there had been no one in the magical world that had not identified her at first sight. Mistaking Neville's identity, not recognizing her own, the specialized duelist's wand, his close resemblance to the Pureblood Black family… all of these clues felt disjointed and out-of-place.
Unarmed, soaking wet, trussed up in vines, and barely a handful of years older than her, this man didn't seem much like the protector she'd asked for either. How much help was he going to be against a mother dragon guarding a clutch of eggs? Maybe she was to use him as dragon bait?
Her lips quirked up at that thought, but knowing that she had less than twenty-four hours until the first task swiftly killed that excitement. The ritual had done… something. Someone that may or may not have been Lily Potter had responded and this young man had shown up. So someone up there certainly thought he would be of assistance to her, and maybe he would be. Appearances could be misleading. A ratty old hat and pet songbird had helped her destroy a centuries-old basilisk after all.
Holly decided to take the route of brutal honesty. Not only was she a rather straightforward person, but Dumbledore's habit of half-truths and riddles had always annoyed the hell out of her.
"My name's Holly Potter, and these are my best friends, Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger. We're fourth year students from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is where we are now. We summoned you here through an ancestor-protection ritual designed for coming-of-age witches and wizards. Specifically, I'm an unwilling champion for the Triwizard Tournament, I'm facing a mother dragon tomorrow, and I used to ritual to call for a protector."
The man blinked dazed eyes at her as he tried to absorb the onslaught of information. "That's you, by the way," Holly added, just in case the most important detail slipped by the barrage of information.
The man took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "What year is it?"
Holly blinked at the apparent non-sequitur, but Hermione's gasp prevented the chance to answer. The sound was delighted rather than surprised, so she supposed that whatever theory had been formed in the bushy-haired girl's brain was proven correct.
"November 23, 1994!" Hermione leaned forward and it was clear that her previous wariness had been briefly swayed by curiosity. The way Neville purposefully drew her back showed that his caution, at least, was completely intact. "You mentioned that Franklin Longbottom's wife was pregnant, so your last memory must be from 1979 or 1980! But how do you look so young? You can't possibly be over 21 or 22, but that means you were born in '72 or '73. Wands are issued at eleven years of age, though I suppose you could use a legacy wand? That's rather unfair for Muggleborn and Muggle-raised children, don't you think? You could practice so much more magic if you got a wand earlier-"
Seeing that the brunette witch was veering off into lecture-mode, Neville quickly covered her mouth with his hand once she paused to inhale air.
"Breathe Hermione!" Both her friends chorused, as Hermione's face turned pink again.
"Sorry!" the Muggleborn smiled sheepishly. "But the numbers aren't adding up right for time travel. Not to mention Pikinsor's Law on Extraneous Temporal Dissonance preventing overlaps of more than 24 hours! This is a rather strange set of circumstances, Mr… er?"
"Regulus Black," And despite the ungainly circumstances, Holly had to give him credit for the graceful way the man inclined his head in acknowledgement. "You're quite correct, Miss… Granger? My last memory is from March of 1979. I understand that this situation is rather abnormal, but do you think that you can untie me and perhaps return my wand? I give you my word that I won't attack you or your friends."
"You tried to attack Holly a few minutes ago," Neville pointed out dryly, "Why should we trust you?"
Regulus Black raised a single eyebrow. "There is no benefit to attacking any of you. If Miss Potter's words are truthful, then I'm magically bound to be her protector. If they are not, then I am not the type of person to enjoy hurting schoolchildren. In either case, I swear on the Black family honor that I will not initiate any fight against the three of you for the duration of the day."
Neville hesitated and looked over at Holly. 'Should we trust him?' his eyes said.
'Not too much,' was her answer. "You're not getting your wand back," Holly stated flatly, as the man's silver orbs tracked the dark wood Neville placed in his robe pocket. "We'll untie you and conjure up some blankets. Are you hungry?"
"No, but I feel like I should be famished." The Potter's cutting spell caused the ivy vines to neatly fall around him, and the keen nature of his gaze along with the wording of the formal- but not magical- honor vow gave some understanding of Regulus Black's nature.
'He's a clever one.' There was no rancor to this thought; the man's cleverness might be needed to keep her alive soon. She cast a drying charm next, then a warming one, followed at last by the conjuration of a thick comforter. The OWL spell wasn't particularly difficult for her; Charms was one of her best subjects.
Holly wasn't the most academically gifted of students but she did try her best. She slept during History, muddled through Astronomy and Potions to the best of her ability, did reasonably well in Transfiguration, Herbology, and Care, excelled in DADA, liked Arithmancy, and loved Charms. She wanted to have the skills necessary to get a good job in the future. Dealing with Vernon's snide mutterings about how the most she could aspire to is working on her back in the alleyways of London had formed that desire.
'But first I need to survive the fire-breathing mother dragon tomorrow.' The constant repetition of the thought didn't do much to ease the fear it brought her.
Regulus Black gracefully drew himself up to a sitting position, the blanket tightly wrapped around his lean shoulders. Neville mirrored the movement with a little less grace and Hermione sat down with obvious care. Holly just plopped onto the ground.
"Are you related to Sirius Black?" The question clearly startled Regulus because a small frown formed on his face. Holly watched that with interest; now that she thought about it, the name 'Regulus' did sound rather familiar. Now where had she heard it before?
"You know Sirius?"
"He's my godfather."
"Your godfather," the strange man drew his blanket around even closer, "Potter. The daughter of James Potter?" She nodded, and a strange mixture of emotions flit across the man's face. Recognition. Jealousy. Wistfulness. Regret. Then finally it settled into a look that she couldn't quite describe.
"Sirius is my… elder brother," Regulus explained, causing her thought process to jerk erratically.
"The Death Eater?!" Holly blurted out, another Stupefy almost forming on her lips. "He told me that you died!"
The refined features of Sirius' brother contorted into a flinch, as the young man raised his hands in surrender. The reminder that he didn't have a wand on hand kept the spell from flying from her wand.
"I am- or I was," Regulus replied, seeing the barely hidden looks of disgust on the other's faces. "I'm not sure why I was brought here, but I do think we need some honesty between us. You introduced yourself to me, so… My name's Regulus Black, and I was born the younger brother of Sirius Black in 1961. I was recruited by the Death Eaters directly out of school, but once I realized the truth of what they were doing, I grew disgusted by my choice. The Dark Lord is more of a monster than a man; he cares nothing for his followers or his cause. The only thing he wants is to amass more and more power, and he's willing to kill anyone- Muggleborn, Halfblood, or Pureblood- that stands in his way to that power."
Holly kept her wand trained on the dark-haired man. Her decision ensured that Neville and Hermione weren't moving their hands either.
Regulus Black continued. "In March of 1979, I tried to betray Him. I wanted to destroy a powerful artifact in his possession, but he had traps there that should have killed me. An army of inferi dragged me into a lake filled with- I think- a sleeping potion of some kind. That was my last memory before your ritual brought me here. I don't think that I've aged a day since."
"An army of inferi," Hermione said coolly, "That must be some artifact." As a Muggleborn, the Death Eater revelation understandably hadn't gone over well with her.
Holly's mind was stuck on another revelation. 'This is Sirius' brother. The boy that that he thought was following Voldemort, but tried to fight against the Death Eaters. And he didn't die, but his body got… stuck? Stuck in time, in the same body from 15 years ago.'
"What was the artifact?" Neville asked.
Regulus grimaced. "Do you know Occlumency?"
The trio exchanged looks. Neville had been taught the basics of the art before Hogwarts as the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom. He had in turn instructed Hermione and Holly, and Sirius had contributed a few tips of his own. Still the leaf-green eyed girl knew that she was little more than a novice.
"Not enough," she admitted unhappily. It seemed like they had hit a stumbling block.
"May I look at the ritual?" Regulus asked. Not seeing the risk to it- the ritual was obscure, but hardly dangerous- Holly nodded, and Hermione passed her notes over. Regulus Black was just as quick a reader as her best friend because it took only a few minutes for him to shuffle past the several feet of parchment work Hermione had carefully compiled in her short, neat handwriting.
His brow furrowed and Holly's all-too-helpful full-blown hormones kindly pointed out that the halting expression didn't at all detract from the man's handsome features. Finally Regulus Black looked up and there was a glint to those silver-grey orbs as they focused on the raven-haired girl.
"The ritual formed a magical bond between us," Regulus Black's features were inscrutable, his tone utterly bland.
"Excuse me," Hermione looked baffled, "Like a life debt?"
"No. Miss Potter may have inadvertently saved my life, but since that wasn't her intention, she can't claim a magical debt for it," Regulus refused to avert his eyes from her own, "I don't know what type of connection this ritual served, but since your words specifically requested protection and guidance in the form of allies, it shouldn't harm you. It may be a Champion's Bond."
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what that is," Hermione admitted, looking rather more irritated than apologetic.
"A Champion's Bond is the general label for all sworn fealty oaths. They fell out of favor well before the Statute of Secrecy was signed," Regulus cocked his head, "Of course, it requires consent from the vassal in question, which I never gave and thus the fledgling bond forming is weak."
Holly's stomach clenched. She was the not-so-ladylike damsel-in-distress about to face a dragon as her Death Eater wizard-knight walked away. What a twisted fairytale this was starting to be. "You want to cut the bond now?"
"Not at all," A tiny, aloof smile crossed Regulus Black's face, "I am a Black. I acknowledge my debts. Tell me, Miss Potter, have you ever heard of an Unbreakable Vow?"
x
If anyone's wondering why Regulus isn't completely freaking out right now, the answer is that his Occlumency Barriers are holding back a maelstrom of emotions now. Don't worry; he'll work through them soon. Also, one of my readers- naraku- pointed out that there was an error in the first chapter and that Regulus was 18 when he died. 18 will be Regulus' official age now. Thanks to naraku for pointing that out.
And if anyone is wondering why Regulus is entering an Unbreakable Vow of his own volition, then let's just say that half of the above-conversation was filled with mistruths by a true Slytherin alumni.
