Chapter 6
Serfs were often left unprotected while the wars raged around them. It wasn't uncommon for them to be traded amongst the landowners, used as a diversion in war, or even sacrificed to allow the landowners to escape harm.
After finding a wand, noting that the Sirius must have grabbed one or two from the house after his escape from Azkaban, Regulus returned to his room to pull out a few of the books he had on his shelves, hoping their contents might have some clue as to his return. Unfortunately, it seemed that someone had raided the shelves for all the interesting and most helpful tomes. He had briefly debated going to the library to see if they had been relocated there but, with his luck, Harry and Ron would still be there and he didn't particularly care to interact with either of the men.
Instead, he spent the rest of the day writing out what he could remember from the day that Voldemort had taken his life. He drew out what he could remember from the wards, the layout of the cave and its location, his rough guess of how many Inferi had been placed in the cave, even though that number could have increased exponentially over the passing years. He wrote out everything he could remember, down to the smallest detail before trying to summon Kreacher, hoping the house-elf could fill in the gaps.
Regulus tried calling out his name several times but the tiny elf had failed to appear with the telltale pop of Apparation. He surmised that it was possible the house-elf had succumbed to old age, which, while it would have added to the overall sense of loss he was feeling, wouldn't have surprised him; while house elves typically have longer life spans than wizards, Kreacher had already been a part of the family for almost two generations of Blacks and was starting to get up in age, even by house-elf standards.
The other option was that with the supposed dissolution of this branch of the Black family, the magic binding him had either released him completely as a free elf or it had transferred ownership of him to his cousins. For the tiny elf's sake, Regulus hoped that if it had been Kreacher's fate, he had gone to Narcissa or somehow to Andromeda rather than to Bellatrix.
Deciding to add that to his ever growing list of questions to ask Hermione, Regulus went over his information once more, adding notes here and there, before wrapping up the rolls of parchment and placing them in the bottom drawer of his desk and going to bed.
The morning greeted him much the same as the previous morning with the sun filtering in through the windows, breaking up the heavy darkness that had overtaken the room. He quickly showered and changed for the day, making sure to tuck his wand in the holster he had strapped to his arm, letting his sleeve fall down to cover it.
Disgust had filled him when he had noticed that the Dark Mark was still burned into the flesh of his forearm when he had undressed to bathe. He didn't know what he had hoped would have happened to it, he just knew that he didn't want the constant reminder of his foolish past so prominently displayed. Even now, he had the mark covered up by his holster, but he could still see the edges through the bands. Sneering, he quickly pulled his sleeve down over the wand and holster, placing the mark out of his sight.
He left his room, pausing long enough to pull out his wand to cast a complex locking charm on it out of habit, before heading down the front staircase to go to the kitchen. Much as he had the day before when walking down the hallway, Regulus stopped now and then, taking in the differences that had occurred to the house since he had last been there. At least now he knew that they were true changes rather than the manufactured visions of a deranged megalomaniac.
The wooden floor practically glimmered with the thorough polishing it had been given and the dingy old floral runner carpets had been, thankfully, tossed out. The walls were still a depressing color but the overall feel had been changed with the removal of the heavy curtains at the end of the hallway, letting the bright welcoming sunlight filter in. The pictures of various relatives, all of them sharp-tongued and vicious, had also been removed, most likely to the attic but Regulus had other wishes as to their fate.
As he walked down the large staircase, he saw that the changes to the house had continued down here, including the surprise addition of what appeared to be a portrait covered up by curtains. Curious, Regulus took a few steps towards the portrait, the gold frame peeking over the top of the curtains. He was curious to see who the portrait had been of, allowing it to have escaped the purging fate of all the other paintings from upstairs. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, Regulus reached out a hand and grabbed the fabric, pulling to part the curtains.
The shock of seeing his mother in the painting was nothing compared to the surprised that was etched onto her oil face as she paused. Her mouth had immediately opened into what Regulus well-recognized as the beginning of a shrieking lecture as soon as the curtains had parted, but she had frozen upon seeing one of her dead sons standing in front of her rather than any of the new inhabitants.
Regulus could only guess how well she had adapted to having relative strangers living in her house, especially ones that she had considered beneath her when she had been alive.
"Yes?" he smirked, purposely taunting his one-dimensional mother. He kept one hand on the curtain, ready to pull it shut at a moment's notice should he need to do so.
"But… my word….you-" Walburga Black sputtered in a manner more undignified than Regulus had ever had the fortune of witnessing, surpassing even her indignation when Sirius had left the house to live with the Potters.
"Surprised to see that not just Sirius managed to escape from the depths of hell you sentenced him to after turning your back on him?" Regulus filled in, relishing in having left his mother speechless. "Yes, I can see where that might leave you a bit flabbergasted. Nice to see you again, too, mum."
He didn't wait for her response, instead drawing the curtains close once again before continuing on his way to the kitchen. And if there was a little extra bounce in his step as he walked, he wasn't going to be ashamed over it.
*
The sound of her spoon clinking against the ceramic mug was the only noise to break the early morning peace of the kitchen as she waited for Regulus to appear. She had expected him to track her down first thing this morning, his impatience having practically radiated from his body the previous day when she had brushed him off, not that she could blame him. But she was rather grateful for the fact that he was even willing to hear her out, especially after overhearing the traitor talk that Harry had been spewing the previous day.
Honestly, Harry knew that Regulus was their only chance at this point in time, why did he feel it necessary to run his mouth and burn bridges? she lamented.
The sound of the stairs creaking under the weight of someone's footsteps alerted her that she would soon have company, most likely in the form of the man who had returned from the Veil. Neither Harry nor Ron had been particularly fond of waking up extra early now that it was no longer required of them and had taken to sleeping in late on the mornings that Hermione had set aside for research.
On second thought, that might have actually been the sole reason they had taken to sleeping in late on those mornings, she thought with a hint of bitterness.
While she waited for her guest to make his way to the kitchen, she pulled the spoon out of her mug and set it on the napkin on the counter before lifting the warm mug between her hands to her nose, taking a deep reassuring breath, inhaling the strong scent of peppermint. The liquid was still too hot to take a sip, but the scent was enough to help wake up her mind for the day.
As she lowered the mug, she saw that her visitor had finally arrived and was leaning against the doorway, his eyes watching her intently. Hermione could feel a slight blush spread across her checks as she set the mug on the counter. Thankfully, he didn't smirk even though he surely must have noticed the telltale color splashed across her face. Instead he gave her a small smile, pushing his shoulder off of the wooden frame before walking over to the small round kitchen table in the corner of the room, pulling out a chair to sit.
Hermione watched him as he walked, almost ashamed at catching herself admiring him. She knew from Remus' stories and from pictures in Harry's photo album that Sirius had been quite good looking during his Hogwarts days, but it was hard to see remnants of his previous self during his days at Grimmauld after Azkaban. Regulus, however, still held the air of assurance that had surely been bred into the Black brothers since birth, which, combined with the knowledge in his eyes, was enough to have Hermione feeling little flips in her stomach when she was around him.
"Would you like a cup?" she offered, holding up an empty mug with one hand and using the other to gesture to the tea pot that still held hot water on the stove. Regulus shook his head 'no' and, with his foot, pushed out the chair next to him, tilting his head as he gave her an inviting grin.
Instead of returning the smile with one that would have been so easy to give, Hermione forced herself to remember that she knew virtually nothing about this man other than what Sirius had told Harry, none of which had put Regulus in a favorable light. She set down the empty mug, replacing it in her hand with her one full of peppermint tea before leaning back against the cupboard.
"You said something about me being 'stuck,'" Regulus commented, obviously choosing to ignore her decline of his offer, at least for the time being, though he did raise his eyebrow in question when she had done so.
Hermione blew across the steaming mug before taking a tentative sip, taking her time in formulating her answer. She had learned from her experiences with Dumbledore that, personally, she would rather have all the facts presented to her in a reasonable order and at one time, rather than the tentative approach that her former professor had seemed to favuor, deciding when others could best handle the information, even if it meant the dispersal of knowledge was spread out over the course of several years.
Fortunately, that tactic had seemed to work well with Regulus yesterday, the young man taking in all the information with a quiet air, letting her speak and answer any questions he may have instead of storming off before she could completely explain. Hopefully he would keep that same response today, she thought, mentally crossing her fingers.
"You know from what I told you yesterday that your brother, Sirius," she amended upon seeing the slight scowl on Regulus' face, "disappeared in the Veil. Not much is known about the Veil, unfortunately, and the references to it in books are, well, rather sparse."
Regulus nodded along, encouraging her to continue as she paused to take another sip of her tea. His stance in his chair was relaxed, his arms crossed on the table as he leaned forward, intently listening to each word.
It was a bit of a change to what she was used to, to be honest. Ron and Harry had gotten better about listening but they still wanted to just hear the end thoughts, never how she came to her conclusions or the line of reasoning. It was kind of nice, actually, especially since now she had someone who might be able to offer his own thoughts and- Hermione halted that line of reasoning immediately, not wanting to let herself already get close to someone she didn't know she could trust.
"There are some theories that the Veil is a form of stasis; that whatever, or in this case, whomever, goes in is held there, suspended in time. Unfortunately, they seem to think that while objects can go into the Veil, they cannot be retrieved," Hermione continued.
"And the other theories?" Regulus prompted.
Hermione allowed herself a small smile. "Others think that it could be a true gateway to the other side."
"Which, if it were, could create quite a problem, considering that you were able to retrieve me," Regulus added. "And it would make Voldemort's quest for immortality much easier, so long as he had a willing fool to keep bringing him back each time."
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "But that would happen only if that theory was correct."
"It isn't?" he challenged. He pointedly looked down at his own body before returning his gaze to her face, his eyebrow arched.
"Not that I believe," she amended. "I personally think the first theory has more merit, flawed as it is."
"The first being that what goes into the Veil can be retrieved," Regulus replied wryly.
"Almost," Hermione corrected. "You never went in the Veil, at least not that we know of."
Regulus shook his head no, at least partly confirming the story that they had heard from Sirius concerning his brother's death. She would have to ask him later about the specifics and made a mental note to do so before she continued.
"I think there is a possibility for it to act as a gateway, as in your case, though I'm not quite sure how it worked out that you came through the Veil." She nibbled on her lower lip before taking a drink from her tea, once again looking up at Regulus. "To be honest, before you appeared, I didn't think it was possible for the Veil to act as a gateway."
"That's all you know?" he asked. He must have seen Hermione visibly bristle because he hastened to add, "Not that it's bad, I didn't mean to imply that. It's just that I'm feeling a little, well, a little lost."
Hermione could feel her irritation over his words start to melt away, understanding that the confusion she was going through was nothing in comparison to what he was dealing with. And, if she were honest with herself, she wasn't sure she would be dealing with it in the same calm and patient manner he was if their situations were reversed.
"That's rather understandable," she said sympathetically, finally moving over to the table to sit down in the chair that he had offered earlier. "And I'm hoping that, with going over what you last remember and looking through the books I used for the ritual, maybe we can come to an answer."
She couldn't help the goofy smile that started to grace her face as Regulus gave her a grateful look, moving his hand to put it on top of one of hers on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. Good grief, she ridiculed herself with a mental eye roll as she pulled her hand away under the pretext of taking another drink from her tea. Stop acting like a silly girl.
Regulus said nothing as she pulled away her hand, instead bringing his own back in front of him to fiddle with the salt shaker that had been left on the table from dinner the night before, his brow furrowed deep in thought. Hermione didn't interrupt him, instead choosing to sit there quietly waiting, knowing how much she hated it when she was interrupted mid-thought.
Eventually, she stood up to make another cup of tea, reheating the water with a charm since she had forgotten to replace the kettle on the heat. She turned around to look at Regulus, surprised to find him watching her; she had thought that she would have to wait to catch his eye. Shaking the kettle as she tilted her head towards the empty mug she had left earlier, she renewed her previous offer. This time he nodded, giving her a small smile. She poured some hot water into the other mug then brought both of them over to the table before going back to fetch the narrow box with the different tea bags tossed in it.
"I never did thank you," Regulus said as he flipped through the different varieties of tea in the box, finally deciding on green tea. "I know you expected to retrieve my brother but you still have my gratitude."
Hermione pulled out another packet of peppermint, ripping the top off the packaging to pull out the bag and drop it into her steaming water. She was about to open her mouth, knowing she was going to cringe when the maudlin reply left her lips, but she was cut off by the appearance of a silvery lynx bursting through the kitchen door and coming to a stop in front of her, jaws open as Kingsley's deep baritone voice filtered out.
Death Eaters in Diagon Alley, reinforcements needed.
The lynx didn't wait for a response from Hermione before turning and bounding away, undoubtedly to the next house where Order members lived. Hermione immediately forgot about her tea and sent off her own Patronus to Harry and Ron before rushing out into the front hallway to grab her clock and her wand holster from the closet. Voldemort had been trying for months to take over Diagon Alley, one of the few remaining passages between Muggle and Wizarding Britain, but had been thankfully thwarted each time.
"I'm coming with you," Regulus' determined voice stated from behind her. She whirled around in surprise, having not noticed that he had followed her out of the kitchen.
"Out of the question," she replied brusquely, hastily strapping her wand holster onto her arm. "For one thing, you're supposed to be dead. A dead Death Eater."
"So I'm under house arrest?" he asked angrily, taking a step towards her. "You brought me back, and, from what you've told me, you need my help. I'm giving it."
Hermione sighed, knowing he had a point. If they were going to ask for his help, they couldn't exactly be picky about refusing him. "You don't have a wand, though," she protested, a last ditch effort to hopefully keep him in the house.
Regulus merely shot her a knowing grin before pulling up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a holster similar to her own with a wand strapped in it. She absentmindedly noted the Dark Mark still present on his skin, a cold reminder of his former, supposedly, she added mentally, allegiances that helped to cast a pall over the understanding she had come to with him. Before she could come up with another objection, Regulus held up a hand to hold her off.
"I can help," he repeated, his tone insistent. "And I have just as much cause to fight as you do. He took my life."
Sighing once again, Hermione went against her better judgment and once they were both outside on the front stoop, grabbed his arm, ignoring the infuriating grin that had spread across his face as she Apparated them to Diagon Alley.
