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Disclaimer: Characters and world belong to J.K Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

Into the Black

Chapter 2: In the Shadows

Hermione could hear someone talking around her.

She was in a bed and someone was holding her hands. Healing them, cleaning them. Muttered healing spells filled her ears. Potions poured down her throat.

She tried opening her eyes and couldn't. She twitched and struggled trying to get up, unable to move.

"Shh...It's okay Hermione. You're safe now and you will be okay. You need to rest," the unknown male voice coaxed her.

Another potion poured down her throat. More darkness.

...

...

Hermione's eyes opened in a flash.

It was late in the day, judging by the bit of light seeping through the window. Or perhaps early morning. She had no idea where she was.

She was able to raise her head from her pillow and able to move her hands behind her body, pushing herself up into a seated position on the bed. She was sore.

Someone was sitting in the chair next to her bed facing her. Arms tucked in their armpits, chin resting on their chest. Asleep.

It was difficult to make out defining characteristics. The lighting in the room was poor. Dark hair, pale skin. She squinted. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His forearms had scars. Dark magic, Hermione thought. Like the scars left over on Ron from the Department of Mysteries and his attack from the brains. Dark magic, like the mark left on her torso from Dolohov's purple fire. Anything else would have been healed. Dark magic doesn't heal. Not entirely.

"H-Hello?" She stuttered. Voice cracking. Her throat was dry.

The man jerked awake. Grey eyes piercing hers.

"Hermione," he rasped, clearing his throat. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Hermione said. "My throat burns, and my body aches," she squinted at him some more. "You look familiar…"

The man lit up the room with a wave of his hand. Conjured her a glass of water. She took it gratefully.

"Small sips," he said.

Hermione nodded, still squinting at him.

He sat there watching her work through her thoughts. Patient.

She took him in. Black hair, grey eyes. Cheekbones that would cut your hand if you slapped him. On the tall side, she thought, as she looked at how he was folded into the chair. Strong. Young. Maybe mid-thirties. He looked like Sirius from the pictures she'd seen before he was locked up in Azkaban…but not quite. Almost.

"Regulus?" Hermione questioned. "You're supposed to be dead…"

His eyes lit up. "Right in one, Hermione," he stood and reached for his wand in his pocket.

Hermione backed up in the bed. Eyes wide.

He stopped. "I promise, I would never hurt you Hermione. I need to see how you are healing. Bellatrix's curse was powerful and you are severely malnourished. I promise, I just need to check what you need, then we will talk for as long as you want. I will tell you everything," he pleaded.

"But I'm a mudblood," she tested him, watching his reaction. "You're a Black. Why would you help me?"

He looked at her condescendingly, reminding her eerily of Draco Malfoy. "You're not a muggleborn sweetheart, you know that. It was smart thinking sending your parents to Australia. My contact told me you obliviated them. They've no memories of you." Regulus watched her, eyebrow raised.

Hermione paled. "What did you do to them?"

He held his hands up. "I just made sure they got on their flight. They are safe. No one can find them, you were very thorough with your obliviation…better than me." He conjured a mirror, and handed it to her.

She took it, hands shaking. She exhaled and looked into the mirror. Grey eyes stared back at her. Black hair in place of her brown. Pale. She looked up at Regulus.

"I need to check to see how you've healed Hermione. After we will talk," he spoke calmly. Patiently.

Hermione nodded. Lost for words.

Regulus raised his wand and started his checking. Hermione's skin tingled, magic rippling over her, travelling from her head to her toes. He reached over to a table situated next to her bed, grabbed a vial and handed it to her. "This will help with the muscle soreness from prolonged exposure to the cruciatus curse."

Hermione downed it, feeling the potion hit her empty stomach. Another vial was handed to her. "This one will heal your throat from screaming, you've ruptured blood vessels. You need more than I initially thought." She downed that one too.

Another vial. "This one is a nutrient potion. You are severely malnourished. What were you eating on the run?"

She swallowed the contents of the vial. "Mainly mushrooms. Fish if we were by a body of water. Berries."

Regulus looked at Hermione, eyes glassy, "Why did you leave Grimmauld Place? Kreacher would've made you lot food?"

"We got caught leaving the Ministry. We had got the locket – Slytherin's locket – off Umbridge, but we brought too much attention to ourselves doing it. Yaxley, I think, grabbed on to me as we apparated away. We reached the top step before I could throw him off. He could get in. He saw where we were hiding. We couldn't go back." She looked at Regulus, "Harry told Kreacher to hide at Hogwarts if there was a security breach. He was helping us. Feeding us before we ran." Regulus nodded, and handed her another potion.

"For the headache," he said. "It's a side-effect from being released from a long term glamour. Especially one hooked into your core." She drank that one too.

Hermione's eyes grew, suddenly remembering. "What about Harry and Ron? Are they okay? Did they make it out?"

"Yes, they made it out. They are safe –"

"—Are they here?" Hermione interrupted.

"No, they are at one of the Order's safe houses. My contacts say they all made it out okay. Luna and Olivander were in the dungeons when you arrived. They got out too. As did the other boy and goblin that were captured just before you were." Regulus finished. "They have been informed that you are okay. That you are in another safe house."

"Am I?" Hermione questioned "Am I in another safe house?"

"No," Regulus said, sitting back down. "This is not a safe house for the Order, nor is it a safe house for the Death Eaters. This is my house. My home." Hermione nodded.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him. "You are supposed to be dead. We found your note in the fake locket. Kreacher said he was ordered to leave you behind."

Regulus smirked, proud of his elf. "He was ordered to tell anyone he deemed trustworthy who asked that he left me behind. I didn't go into the cave alone. My cousin, Narcissa came with me. Waited on the shores of the lake as Kreacher and I took the boat across. I drank the potion, Kreacher switched the lockets, Narcissa watched from across the lake. I reached into the lake, delirious...I was so thirsty. Inferi grabbed me, pulled me under. Apparently Kreacher was howling. Narcissa ordered him to apparate her to the island. She got me out of the lake…I don't know how…I woke up weeks later. Everyone thought I had died. That I had tried to get away from the Dark Lord and got tracked down and killed for my cold feet. That I got in too deep and wanted out."

"Did you get cold feet, did you want out?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't want in in the first place…not really. I did what was expected of me. I was sixteen when I was branded." He showed Hermione his dark mark. Ugly and black on pale skin. "People do stupid things when they are sixteen. I thought that if I did what my family wanted they'd be proud of me. My insecurities as a teenager ended up controlling my life. Marking me for death really."

He conjured a glass of water for himself. "My grades in school were top of my year, every year. It still wasn't enough for my mother and father. I was second born in a very traditional pureblood family. The spare." He took a sip. "I was their favourite, absolutely. But only after Sirius rebelled from their teachings. After he was sorted into Gryffindor. Before then I was invisible."

He looked at Hermione. "I wanted to be noticed…and at the time the Dark Lord's teachings were not different from what I already knew. What I was already taught. It wasn't a big step." Another sip. "Bit stupid really, now that I am older," he chuckled. Hermione nodded.

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it again, hesitating. Regulus looked at her, smiling softly, "it's okay Hermione, just say it."

"To get the dark mark…you…you had to kill someone…" Her eyes wide, afraid of what he'd say, but already knowing the truth.

Regulus nodded. "I did, yes. I've killed a lot of people. Tortured a lot of people to get information, or to show my power, my worth. It was what was expected of me."

"Technically you died when you were eighteen though…Sirius said you died in 1979…I've seen the tapestry. You did all that before you supposedly died?" She questioned.

He nodded. "I rose up quickly in the ranks. I am a Black, people were scared of me. I had power that most people could only dream of. I had power that the Dark Lord wanted. He liked to collect the powerful in order to gain more power himself. Much like Slughorn and his Slug Club, really. Just for different purposes." Regulus sipped his water, watching her reaction, "...much like Dumbledore too."

Hermione looked down at her hands in her lap, one hand clutching her glass of water. She took a sip, and nodded.

Regulus stood up, "Let's go to the kitchen. You need some food in your stomach." He helped Hermione up. She was wearing a men's T-shirt and sweatpants. They walked slowly to the kitchen and sat at the table. A house elf was cooking at the stove.