Chapter 7

There was no noticeable indication of the time-loop when Regulus arrived at the designated location at (or rather, just before) the designated time, nor did he see Emmeline right away, despite her confirmation-by-fire-call the night before. He was a little unclear on how to initiate the loop beyond roaming around the spot and hoping he hit the correct spot. The horrible mess of thinking you triggered it when you didn't was just starting to creep into his mind when he saw Emmeline slip from a stream of people and start walking towards him, effectively fending off the creeping anxiety and instead drawing up the corner of his mouth.

"Good morning," Regulus greeted when she reached his side.

"Good morning," Emmeline replied warmly. "Have you initiated yet?"

He shook his head. "I decided to wait until you arrived. We simply walk into the space, and it will trigger, correct?" With one hand, he gestured towards the area before them.

"That's the gist," Emmeline confirmed, though with a flicker of wistfulness, she added, "I can't enter it with you until Friday, or I'll not be here when the shutdown supplies arrive. While a lost few days sounds nice, I suppose you'll have to make do with me resetting for a few days too."

Disappointing news, he had to admit, though she had still come, so that was something. "No consequence-free neglecting of your responsibilities today, then?"

"You have an entire consequence free time, you can do whatever you like, and you choose to spend it with me?" Emmeline shook her head, barely hiding a smile. "Ask me once you're in the loop. I might not remember it; I'm not sure if the memory will return when I enter on Friday or not, but either way, I'd be honoured to have a day of neglecting my responsibilities with you."

Regulus considered pointing out that he enjoyed spending time with her when there were consequences, so naturally he would value doing so when there weren't, but instead he nodded with a smile in his eyes and shifted to pass through the spot where the time-loop was supposedly active. No discernable change crept over him, no visual markers were in place, and once again, he felt a little unsettled about whether it had actually worked or not.

"There's not supposed to be a noticeable change, correct?" He glanced around him then back to Emmeline.

"No, we can tell everything is slightly out of sync, but it's so miniscule, it isn't noticeable without diagnostic spellwork," Emmeline replied. She reached over to pat what looked like a person's garden wall and tapped it. "It starts just beyond that, and once you're in it, you're out of sync with the rest of us. Did you expect to feel something?"

Regulus shrugged. "I suppose, though it is more a matter of not knowing what to expect, rather than expecting something specific. If people seek them out, I wondered if perhaps it was obvious once you were in it, though I suppose they must figure it out in hindsight when their day loops back, and it is the second time that is intentional."

"People tell each other." Emmeline shrugged, clearly not thinking much about it. "I can show you the diagnostics if you like, but I suppose the easiest way would be to use a pocket watch. You should find yourself a partial second off, so the longer you're in it, the more off your watch will be. Assuming you have a watch, but you do seem the traditionalist sort that would have been given one."

"I do," Regulus confirmed, patting at his pocket where his father's pocket watch was nestled. Traditionalist, indeed. It had been given to him on his seventeenth birthday (as dictated by said wizarding tradition) and with him ever since, though the cave had been a nightmare he hadn't expected to survive, much less a delicately attached accessory. His chest twinged sentimentally, but he brushed it off. "Seems reasonable."

"I'm a terribly reasonable person," Emmeline said, though her attempt to stop smirking clearly meant that she didn't really think so. "Loops are a strange phenomenon. You would think, if you were reliving over several days, you would end up tired, as it'd be over twenty-four hours at one point; but generally, one's health is restored to the entry point. You can imagine how dangerous that knowledge would be, so we don't spread it around."

"That is fascinating," Regulus said, shaking his head as he eyed the spot where the time-loop supposedly began. "And quite convenient for the one utilising it."

"It's harder to break out of than in. The poor muggles have no idea they're stuck in the same time frame, but I suppose it's no harm done, really." Emmeline gave him a tap on the shoulder. "You'll be fine; I've done it a hundred times or more, and this is wizard made, not an anomaly. People know they shouldn't mess with time, but they still do, and this is a spectacular fluff up that's taken down a residential estate."

"They can do that?" Regulus lifted his brow. "How does it work?"

"They don't do it on purpose." Emmeline made an ambiguous hand gesture. "Or, I suppose, some might, but when people try to mess with time, it's usually either to turn it back to prevent something, the desire to be in two places at once, or some stressed mother with four kids under five who doesn't have enough hours in the day. But time is difficult to control, and the consequences can be unpleasant to say the least. There's always a price, which can be a little loop in the neighbourhood you were attempting to go to, aging several centuries in hours and dropping dead, or in one case, a Tuesday that lasted thirty-six hours. You can't control the consequences; magic is not cast in a vacuum."

"Hm." Regulus eyed the trigger point thoughtfully and shook his head. "Well, hopefully the residential estate was not too terrible a loss. I cannot help but look forward to the curiosities of exploring the loop, nonetheless."

"It's not a dangerous one. It's just a bit...stuck. You're perfectly safe, so I do expect you to have fun." Emmeline gestured ahead as well. "It's an adventure."

"It is," he said, a light smile returning to his face. "I have been wondering at how to spend that adventure, and though I know your department has been crawling with Aurors in weeks past, I cannot help but wonder if a consequence-free day would be an appropriate time to sneak about in a place I am not strictly permitted to be sneaking. What do you think? Would you be at risk of any lasting trouble?"

Emmeline laughed. "You always make it sound as if I own the department. Do you do the same thing with all Ministry employees?"

"Well, I'm admittedly less concerned about how your boss feels about it, which is probably a contributing factor," he responded with a tilt to his mouth.

"I'm not entirely sure I have a boss," Emmeline said, her tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I do submit paperwork, and it's gone when I look, but I could be working for a mutant Norwegian Ridgeback for all I know. However, if you have an interest in draconology, we can certainly take a look. The Aurors, the ones still with us, have vacated."

A smile flickered on his mouth. "I might be concerned about the opinions of a mutant Norwegian Ridgeback, but it is hard to say. I am interested, nonetheless."

Emmeline appeared to consider it for a moment. "No brains."

"I can agree to that. Curious as they might be, they certainly gave Ron Weasley a hard time, and I would prefer not to experience it firsthand," Regulus agreed with a nod. The peek through a door had not truly felt like enough, but he imagined there would be other equally interesting rooms to investigate…

"Mind magic is not something I feel so proficient in that I could intervene if things went squirrely. I'm not willing to risk your safety if I can't intervene myself." Emmeline looked over him, then looked back at the street. "Locked doors are off-limits, and for good reasons. If I say stop, as much as I enjoy our debates, stop, then we can talk about it. Otherwise, we can look into others - Space, Time, perhaps Alchemy or Experimental if there's time and limbs left."

"I consider myself well suited to relevant mind magic, though I imagine that room is quite a different matter," Regulus said with a wry shake of his head, and not for the first time, he wished the Department of Mysteries was not so aptly named. There were endless fascinations that were out of reach by definition, though little breaches such as this were of some comfort, at least. "Even so, I concur that a exploration of Space, Time, Alchemy, and Experimental magic will be sufficiently enthralling."

"Someone's got a diverse knowledge. What mind magic are you thinking of?" Emmeline asked, curiously.

"Though it has been some time since I last had suitable means and circumstance to test it, I took well to Occlumency when I was initially exposed," Regulus explained with a slight tip of his head. The Imperius Curse, too, was a spell of will and mind, but even with the possibility she wouldn't remember, it didn't seem appropriate to bring up. Instead, he continued, "I like to have a broad range of experience."

"Impressive," Emmeline admitted. "What other subjects catch your attention?"

"I enjoyed Runes, Charms, and Transfiguration the most, as well as their relationship to various objects and artifacts," Regulus responded simply. "Beyond that, I had some interest in the idea of Alchemy, especially in light of my grandfather's involvement with it, but I did not pursue it with much intention. However, Narcissa's son is apparently intrigued by it, which I found interesting."

Following a brief glance back at the loop's initiation spot - he did hope it worked - Regulus turned back to Emmeline again. "Though perhaps we can discuss further as we make our way to the Ministry? I have little concept for the best approach. Perhaps disillusionment might be sufficient, or perhaps Harry would lend his cloak, but I suppose you would have a better grasp of it."

There was no other term for it. Emmeline cackled to herself. "Do you really think if you walk in with me, anyone is going to bat an eye? The only reason we ran into trouble before was the attempted removal of a prophecy and a bloody great snake."

"It's not an unreasonable assumption," Regulus defended pointedly. "Your department is kept very shrouded. I would be more paranoid about breaches, were I overseeing it; but if you insist, I suppose I will just benefit from their lax approach."

"That's cute," Emmeline smiled, before putting her hand out to be taken. "I don't mind that you thought that; it's better everyone thinks that. But I also think it's rather telling no one thought a group of teenagers running about was cause for alarm."

"Precisely. I would expect that to be more concerning," Regulus commented as he took her hand for the apparition process, experiencing that familiar tug for a only a moment before they appeared with a crack in front of what appeared to be the entrance to a public toilet. An unspoken question lifted his brow as he glanced over at her.

"You seemed preoccupied with being seen, so I thought the back entrance would be more appropriate." Emmeline reached for her wand again, but then stopped in her tracks. "Have you been inside the Ministry before? Other than the mad dash last month."

Regulus shook his head. "Only for the mad dash. I never had much reason to visit as a teenager."

Emmeline smiled at that. "Then for basic layout, we'll come out at the very far end. It's more discreet than the middle of the atrium. We're on the next floor down, but there's no direct lift access to the floor below because it's the courts, so we get people passing through the entrance chamber to use the stairs all the time. We might see Dedalus - I think he has a case today - but we won't look out of place." She then gestured towards the toilets. "However, this way involves flushing in - which sadly is exactly what it sounds like."

Without bothering to hide his pinched expression, Regulus eyed the toilet with no small amount of displeasure. "I suppose an elaborate jest is too much to hope for."

"Just step in and think of England," Emmeline said, giving his a shoulder pat before heading into one of the stalls.

"Revolting. Let it go on record that I think whoever dreamt up this entrance was a terrible person," he complained as he stepped in to the stall beside hers, "with no concept of dignity or hygiene."

When a flush sounded in response, Regulus scowled down at his own toilet bowl and wished that apparating straight into the Ministry was more safe and feasible. On a workday morning, it was bound to be teaming with employees roaming about the atrium, and there were no other places he could picture clearly enough to successfully pop over.

"A veritable monster," he muttered to himself as he cast an Impervius spell, hoping it would repel some of the water. Just a beat later, he stepped in, wincing at the slosh, but a swift flush brought the dreadful experience to a close within seconds.

Following a thorough round of drying and cleaning spells (Impervius charm or not), Regulus stepped out to find Emmeline waiting. "The Ministry ought to consider a new entrance," he commented.

Emmeline snorted. "Given the time period, you can thank either Lestrange, Milliphutt, or Orpington. I'm not sure which."

"I will not thank them."

"Don't be pedantic." Emmeline gestured to the nearest lift, which was thankfully only housing stragglers rather than the teeming numbers that were descending in the middle of the lobby. "We can leave via the floo, and you won't have to do it again. Level nine?"

With a nod, Regulus stepped towards her to stride towards the lift, eyeing his surroundings as he walked, though this particular corridor was less dramatic than the atrium had been with its massive statue. Of course, the Dark Lord and Bellatrix had been more dramatic still, but it did not actually lessen the impact of the statue.

It was a short ride to level nine, and a more familiar one as they neared her department. The night of their break in had been chaotic - a rather different sort of chaos from the morning bustle - and he could feel his curiosity mounting as they drew nearer.

Emmeline moved close to him, and spoke quietly. "The entire walls are tiled black to be disorienting. You have to know the right sequences to get in the right doors, and then ask for the right area. Even those can be restricted. The love room is always locked."

Regulus nodded, taking in the dark, nondescript design more carefully than he had been able to the time before. "Lead the way."

Emmeline stopped in front of one of the doors in the poorly lit hall. It looked no different from the other doors peppering the hallway, but she tapped it thrice and said, "Magical origins." The room seemed to heave for a moment, but then the door opened to another chamber. She then looked at Regulus with a swift smile. "Shortcut."

With a little smile, he followed her through.

The room was long and dark, lit by green flames about halfway up the towering walls. There were several tanks, each with what what looked like a variety of body parts of both magical creatures and (more worryingly) people. The room appeared silent and empty, cast in the eerie glow.

Emmeline did not seem phased at all, and beckoned him onwards. "I don't think biological magic is quite your area of interest, but this is the way through to the experimental sections."

"I see," he said, staring down a free-floating eyeball for a passing second before turning his attention to the front again. "This department certainly does address a variety of topics."

"We're hoarders, we keep everything." Emmeline pointed off to one of the preserved things on the far side of the room. "Back about the time purism really became vogue - it was practiced before, as your family tree will attest, but not considered the norm until around the seventeenth century - they wanted to look at what made something magical or not, and was it possible to transfer magic from one thing to another. If you're curious, it's not - when you're born, you're either magical or you're not."

Regulus could recognise a part of him that would have once felt very frustrated by that news, however inconsequential it might have become once he had he left home. That muggleborns stole magic from squibs had never been a point of debate, growing up, and he supposed it was not exactly a point of debate now, though for very different reasons. Muggleborns could clearly perform magic, but muggleborns in muggle families and squibs in pureblood families had never made much sense in isolation of an explanation. "Have they made progress in settling on what does cause it, or only what does not?"

"Not in the last four centuries." Emmeline tapped once again on the wall, until another set of doors appeared. "The prevalent theory is that it's genetic, which leaves us with two uncomfortable ideas: one, that it is simply a random set of genetics, and if both parents have the gene, it happens regardless of if the parents are magical themselves. More likely if they are magical, but in no way a guarantee." She raised another finger. "Or perhaps even more uncomfortable, that we were an magical species at one point and muggles are simply the result of genetically anomalous squibs having generations of children without magic and muggleborns are throwbacks to an ancestry long before their families living memory."

"Uncomfortable, indeed." Neither option was a particularly palatable solution for those he would hope to sway, and Regulus truthfully could not decide for certain which one was more uncomfortable. He thought that perhaps the second one made more sense because at least then he did not have to think of his own magical status as some random collision of chance, but he was nonetheless relieved when they came to what he assumed to be the experimental room.

The experimental chambers were in a wide corridor, with some sections in bright light, and others, dark enough that you could see no one. They appeared to move a variety of things - glowing orbs, wands, sceptres. The witches and wizards running around it, absorbed in their work, had little regard for the two of them. Emmeline gave him a wry look.

"This is where most of the smaller questions are addressed," she whispered. "But they still don't know what a star being born looks like."

There was a crash that made the floor move, but once again, no one seemed to take notice of it, nor the bright flames off to one side. Emmeline took a wander up to one of the stations, which proclaimed it to be investigating the effect on taste of refilled food and drink. "I'm not sure what burning question everyone has this week."

Regulus stepped close, thinking it to be sufficiently interesting, despite how hectic it was. "I would guess there are more than one."

Striding across the room, Emmeline pulled some parchment down and began to look over it. For a moment, she said nothing, then gestured for Regulus to come and join her. She gestured to the list, which looked as if it were written in gibberish.

"It looks like the major experiments today are dream manipulation, skill transference, and..." she gave a snort. "Whether crystalised memories have colours. I think someone just dropped one, memories are tricky. Is there one in particular you want to go have a nosy at?"

"Dream manipulation," Regulus responded with interest piquing at the back of his mind. Although he was quite confident in his developing horcrux theory for the strange visions Harry had experienced in the past year, it rang a bit personal, too, if he was honest (though he would rather not be).

"That'll be over..." Emmeline trailed off, before pointing to a cluster of people who seemed to be popping bubbles. "There." Upon their closer inspection, there were images playing in the bubbles and they were emanating from an Unspeakable who appeared to be asleep. Another Unspeakable, seemingly oblivious to the extra presences, clashed two of the bubbles together, which caused them to ripple and attach. "It's a job for the socially awkward," Emmeline confided. "We get a bit absorbed."

A smile flickered on his mouth as he watched the Unspeakables prodding at the bubbled dreams, a subtle shimmer flickering in the spotty light of their corner. "I think it's wonderful," he said as another dream popped, and he had to resist the temptation to reach out and pop another himself.

"I don't want to hurry you, but the longer we linger, the more out of place we shall look." Emmeline gave him a reassuring smile, then began to walk over to the wall and reveal the doors again. "What about Alchemy? I know a couple of Spagyrics working on some new medicinal potions with elementally transformed plants. They've got some silly stuff they probably won't mind someone playing with."

Regulus nodded, and though his curiosity lingered, he knew that he could not. "Going from one interesting thing to another interesting thing is not the worst problem to have."

"Welcome to my life," Emmeline said, before beckoning him forward. "You have a familial interest in the subject?"

Regulus was still looking around the room as he nodded, responding in low tones, "My paternal grandfather. He received an Order of Merlin for it, following the Global Wizarding War, when the Ministry required resources to get back on its feet." Sparing a glance at her, he added wryly, "Sirius tried to throw it out last summer, but it yet remains."

Emmeline ducked her head. "Is that reflective of your grandfather, or just almost a casualty of Sirius's war on familial objects?"

"I rather liked him, but from Sirius's perspective, I suppose it was a mix of both," Regulus admitted.

Emmeline stopped in her tracks, brow furrowed. Then she smiled, as is suddenly realising something. "He gave them a lot of gold," she said, with a laugh. "Of course he did, he was an alchemist, gold wouldn't be in short supply at all. That's quite funny, and I suppose true from a certain point of view. That was a little bit Slytherin archetypal, but I don't think I ought to tell Sirius that - I don't imagine you'd find the opposite complementary either."

A subtle amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth as Regulus met her eyes. "All of those things are true."

"I do find it strange, if I think about it," Emmeline said, as the smell of metal and smoke filled the air from the Alchemy chamber. "Being judged on one's potentials long before the chance to live up to it, which does not take into account how much a person changes in those years, but also being judged on family seems rather common. Look at the Weasleys. Though you could also look at Fabian and Gideon; they were twins, but sorted differently. I don't understand why one potential is chosen over another. I'd love to get a closer examination of that hat, though I think telling it so cemented my own sorting."

"A lot can change in seven years. It's true," Regulus agreed, his tone thoughtful. Being in Slytherin had been so important that he'd scarcely eaten or slept until the whole ordeal was over, though it felt a little embarrassing to admit as much. "It sounds as though you were an easy student to sort, and an accurate one."

"Oh, I decided at the age of eight where I would go." Emmeline waved it off dismissively. "I had pro/con lists, navigated a focus group, made graphs, and researched the first hand accounts for a more qualitative view."

With a sniggering laugh, Regulus eyed her again. "Of course you did. I did much of the same, though my sources might have been a little bit biased. The correct answer was established prior to starting."

"You considered another house?" Emmeline asked, skeptically. "You."

"I would not go as far as to say I considered another house," he corrected, tipping up his chin in jesting haughtiness, "but that does not mean I did not research the projected experience thoroughly."

"You didn't just ask around?" Emmeline inquired. "What is the use of siblings and cousins if not that?"

"They were the aforementioned first hand accounts," he said with a quirk of his mouth, "hence why I said they were biased."

"I see," Emmeline sniggered. Once safely in the room, it was much darker than the others. There were green and blue floating orbs and the occasional flame that stretching into the high, buckled ceilings. There were a few stations, but it was already quieter than the previous room. "I suppose I thought you meant your parents or grandparents."

"I received a great deal of information, both first hand and not, from many people in my family. Parents and grandparents were among them, as well," Regulus said, eyeing another burst of flame, then turned his attention to Emmeline wryly. "We had a very large family with very strong opinions on the matter, if that is not obvious."

"I have yet to meet anyone in your family who has anything but a strong opinion on everything," Emmeline remarked. She made her way over to one of the tables, where a variety of mutated plants were lying in disarray.

"We are none of us short on opinions and convictions," he agreed with a little smile, shaking his head, though it was a short leap to a very depressing line of thought in that subject, so he instead turned his attention to the plants. "Any particular notes on this one?"

"A cure for everything," Emmeline said, before shrugging. "Flamel's elixir of life is, of course, now gone. As such, we muddle on trying to find alternate routes to optimum health. Immortality too, if that's your pleasure, but I've never liked the idea."

"I can think of some individuals in particular that ought not be made aware of this particular line of study," he commented, sharing a significant look with her. "As for myself, curious though I might be about generations to come, I do not actually want that, either."

"I can think of one who likely already knows. Thanks for nothing, Rookwood." Emmeline looked thunderous for a moment, but only a moment. She picked up one of the plants from some of the containers. "It does lead to discovering new things. I heard a rumour that Bertie Bott's started here, and kept finding flavours. Of course, that could be up there with evil assassins in the footnotes, so take it with a grain of salt. It takes a special sort of person to put one of these in their mouths just to see what'll happen. I think I'll stick to anachronism labelling."

"That does sound less risky," Regulus agreed, and privately he thought that tampering with such a thing was perhaps one way to attempt the assassination of one particular seeker of immortality, though there was probably some ethical concerns in the likelihood that someone else would probably try it first. Shaking off the thought, he asked instead, "Will we be visiting your corner of the department today?"

"I thought we would go there last," Emmeline replied. "Because it's the one place you can ask questions I can actually answer."

Eyeing the room, Regulus took in the little stations and corners of alchemy research for a moment longer. It continued to baffle him that they had just strolled in without consequence; his own day was going to reset, regardless of what they did or did not do, but even if this had been a normal day, the witches and wizards holed away in this space had taken no notice at all. In truth, he had expected Emmeline to be exaggerating on the matter.

"Where shall we go next, then?" Regulus ask, pulling his eyes from his surroundings and reminding himself that lingering and staring would attract their notice.

"Space. The department, sadly, not the atmosphere." Emmeline gave a pronounced pout. "It's not as fun as the muggle one, as it's mostly about the effects of planetary alignment on magic. Oh, and don't inhale too much. You might start to feel a bit giddy. Please excuse my saying so, but I don't think you have any tolerance built up."

"Tolerance?" Regulus lifted his brow; the Space Room sounded intriguing, even if it was more about planetary assignments than stunning photographs, but it was the warning that stood out. "Is there something in the air?"

"Ah." Emmeline made a screwed up face, with her lips beginning to twitch with mirth. "A lot of experimentation with it involves the intake of certain plant life with some mind-altering effects. It's a little stuffy, and you might feel a little light-headed, but as long as we don't linger and you don't inhale deeply, you shouldn't get any of the effects. Excellent place for snacks, though."

"Altering your mind is necessary for observing the effects of planetary alignments, then?" he said wryly, thinking that she looked far too amused - smothered or not - for it to be a legitimately serious method. "Makes the stars twinkle brightly enough to see them better?"

"Did I mention the lack of oversight? They want solutions, answers. They don't care how it happens," Emmeline pointed out - to which Regulus sniggered - before tapping the doors to once again appear. However, someone walked through one, almost bumping into the woman and looking rather startled. They sidestepped, then Emmeline shrugged. "That saves me the trouble. After you."

The smell of fruity smog filtered through the door, and through it, the night sky was visible and shifting on the ceiling, casting an eerie glow. There were a few Unspeakables at a variety of what looked like telescopes, while others were lying on mats on the ground.

"Beautiful," Regulus remarked as he stared up at the ceiling-sky. "Have the studies determined anything of note?"

"You get a lot of people muttering 'Mercury in retrograde' if something goes wrong," Emmeline admitted, with a forceful shrug. "Without the telescopic lenses to see as far away, I think it's stuck. I had the exceptional pleasure of visiting one of the institutes in Uganda a few years back as part of some ICW work, and their department on space must be three times the size. We can describe the atmosphere of Phobos all we like, but the priority isn't there to go and see for ourselves. In contrast, in the seventies, muggles sent up testing equipment and did all of these tests and took full colour photographs before we'd even finished school. They found water, volcanoes, and discovered there could have been life on Mars, just like the exhibit. You can go and see the visitor centre in America, which is about to go on my 'to-do' list."

"So you were saying." His eyes lingered on the ceiling, a small smile forming. "It seems there is quite a lot out there. It's fascinating."

"I get a little obsessive," Emmeline admitted. "Not that you'd relate to that."

"Not at all." Regulus met her eyes with a little smile. "Have they made any determinations about the effect of space movements on magic, or is it still a series of shots in the dark?"

"Total oblivion," Emmeline confirmed, with a shake of her head. "Or they do know and aren't sharing, which is equally likely around here."

"I cannot fault them for that," Regulus granted with a tip of his head. "I don't much like to share either."

"You're not doing so badly with me," Emmeline pointed out. "I'm not so innately wily that it's all me."

"You are an exception," he said to the ceiling, eyeing a swath of twinkling stars as he leaned into a slight bump, nudging her shoulder with his own.

The subtle haze seemed as if it ought to make it harder to do one's observational duties, but it was atmospheric, he would grant it that. As recommended, he tried not to breathe too deeply, despite the calming nature of the dim, night sky, magically contrived or not. Contentedness had settled over him, and with it, far more relaxation than he thought he ought to have, walking freely through this particular Ministry department. Although it might've been managed just as easily on any day, the way that anxiety peeled away with each retractable moment was worth the choice.

With a little smile, he added, "I trust your dependability and your contributions, which is a favourable mix."

"I don't believe anyone has ever referred to me as favourable. I'm flattered." Emmeline stepped over the legs of one of her co-workers, who grumbled something unintelligible. "Don't lie in the middle of the floor if you're bothered by people walking over you. Be thankful I'm wearing flats."

"Whozat?" The Unspeakable replied.

"He's a constellation," Emmeline said, without missing a beat. "We're taking a quick walk around the sky."

"Yeah, alright."

Emmeline gave a nod towards the other side of the room. "Think we should move."

When they were well past the man on the floor, Regulus leaned in to whisper, "Technically, I'm a star," punctuating the correction with an amused smile.

"A binary star." Emmeline rolled her eyes. "And when you're willing to twinkle, I'll say as much."

Shaking his head, Regulus responded, "I don't think I'm the twinkling sort."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Emmeline scoffed. The door once again revealed, and she began to work on it. "You could be and have no idea. You didn't seem the camping sort either."

"Perhaps it depends on what twinkling entails," Regulus granted, and a beat later, the door had opened before them to reveal what he assumed to be the Time Room.

Inside the time room was a giant, golden clock hanging from the ceiling. On the walls, several time pieces hung from golden chains and displayed a variety of different times. They also seemed to be moving at different speeds, and some didn't have numbers, but rather symbols that had no immediately discernible meaning. There were several shelving units down one side of the room, which held a variety of different time groupings and names like 'lost in time' and 'unusual anachronisms'. On the far side of the room was an open doorway, but it was dark inside. As they moved away from the entrance, the wall sealed behind them with large mechanisms. Everything was in muted grey, silver and brown tones.

"I hope this isn't too anticlimactic," Emmeline said. "I won't expect any twinkling."

"Not anticlimactic, no," he said with a tone of appreciation, watching as one of the brass-armed clocks spun lazily backwards in the far corner.

"We've got our time objects over there," Emmeline pointed to the shelves. "Then we've got the different times each person is experiencing. The parchment over on the tables are the maps showing where different anomalies are. The room on the far side used to house time turners, but since they were all smashed, they're working on some experimental ones but aren't at the testing stage yet. Oh, and the desk over there with the fairy lights is mine. It's very dark in that corner, but it does mean I get left to it more."

Regulus eyed the map with particular interest (though there was no way to make much sense of it from the distance they were at), then shifted his attention to her desk with a little nod. The surface was controlled chaos, for all her put together appearance, and amusement flickered as he recalled her admitting to a tendency of that sort.

"I think something exploded on your desk," he commented mildly.

"I get backed up a lot!" Emmeline said, with a hint of defensiveness. "Especially when I go gallivanting up to Wales for a certain someone's birthday party."

With a smile in his eyes, Regulus tipped his head in a little nod. "That is an acceptable excuse."

"Is it always an acceptable excuse if it allows you to get something you want?" Emmeline whispered.

"That is the typical way of it," he confirmed in quiet tones of his own. "Convenient, is it not?"

"Very cheeky," Emmeline replied, though she did not sound as if she minded in the slightest. "There's your loop over there. I think you're about halfway through by now."

"Thus far, it has been a good experience," he said, eyes flicking over at her indication. "I can see the appeal."

"Thus far, it hasn't been that exciting for you. Just wandering with me on my way to work." Emmeline shrugged. "Isn't there anything more fun you'd want to do?"

"You say that, but I find all of this quite fascinating," he admitted, pulling his eyes from the surroundings again to look back at her. "If I accomplish anything too successfully, I won't want it to reset, and I don't want to specifically bait death, either. Surprisingly enough, that cuts out a fair few options."

"Perhaps you missed your calling. I suppose I thought you'd take a day off. See a show. Break and enter. You know, fun things." Emmeline gave him a quick smile. "I owe you Shakespeare at some point, in addition to camping. However, the best time to go for the Lights isn't for another month or two."

"Any day can be a day off, but not any day can remove even the vaguest concern about there being any lasting consequences, should I be noticed in a place I am not strictly meant to be," he responded easily, and as he began to turn over ideas at the back of his mind, he added: "However, breaking and entering is not a terrible idea either. I can be patient for the Northern Lights and this Shakespeare you speak of."

Emmeline made an undignified snort in an attempt to keep in her laughter. "That might be the most Port Out Starboard Home thing I've heard in quite some time. Alright, I suppose being disciplined must help with getting things done if you have no direct need to do so, but if there's something you're not doing you want to be, don't let me keep you."

"You aren't holding me back from anything, worry not," he assured. "The loop repeats throughout the day, does it not? However, if you have actual work to do-" He paused. "If I am within a loop that is going to reset, I assume any work you do is automatically undone as well, even if you did not enter the loop yourself?"

"No, we're out of sync now because I didn't crossover into the loop." Emmeline explained. "Life outside the loop remains as normal, with only events you're involved with - or people in the loop in general are involved with - being consistently rewritten. Time is malleable."

"Hmm. Interesting," Regulus said thoughtfully. "I suppose you do have actual work to do, then."

"Yes, buying a house in London is expensive, so I'd like to keep the job," Emmeline nodded. "I can't impose on you forever."

"I do not consider you to be an imposition, nor do I think Sirius feels that way," Regulus responded with a little smile, "but I will leave you to it. Thank you for the tour."

Emmeline gave him a nod. "Thank you for the company. Just ask the wall for the exit."

There were several hours left in this particular iteration of the time-loop when Regulus had disentangled himself from the Ministry corridors and the throngs of people within them. Though he had made light of the 'day off,' the series of events to follow was exceptionally normal. An early lunch, then back to Iago again with an itch for unanswered questions, both important and unimportant.

He had thought first of the prophecy, presently off limits to him, though he had not yet asked Dumbledore himself. Harry was likely to know, but it somehow felt like a guilty sort of deception to convince the boy to tell, only to have him forget he told at the loop's end. It was a solid plan as far as execution went, but he did not want it to rain down on Harry (or himself) should that information be put to actual use. If he was to ask Harry, it was probably best if Harry was at least aware of it, though Regulus maintained hope for Dumbledore's willingness to be reasonable.

Emmeline's 'recommendation' of breaking and entering had brought to mind his eldest cousin's home - the Lestrange Manor, where he had itched to investigate shortly after returning to England, but it was a near-guarantee for trouble, whether from the Ministry or the Death Eaters. To pursue that was perhaps more dangerous than deceptive, but at least the stakes were arguably less high if they were impermanent. There were few Aurors that he was on any sort of speaking basis with, and only one that he thought would probably comply with providing some insight on the matter..

It was Sirius who provided the location of the Tonks household, though she would soon be leaving for her late-day-to-night shift, and sending a formal call would do no good when the day was just going to reset anyway.

With time to fill, he thought again that a plan for well-utilised breaking and entering was not a bad use of his time at all.

hr

At two o'clock, the time-loop had set him back in the same place he had started, and this time, he parted ways with Emmeline more immediately (though it was for the second time that day). The six hours felt slower, that time, slogging through the same morning, and he assumed Sirius did not remember anything about the Tonks-related questions because he did not bring it up when again lunch rolled around, hours later. Conversation was instead centered on Harry and the other children, who seemed to be enjoying their vacation quite a lot. He hoped they were not attempting to repeat the previous day's spying attempts, but tattling on them felt to be in bad form, so instead he let it lie, listening to Sirius relay the tale of what they had done once they were actually with Lupin, rather than scampering off without him.

When again two o'clock was nearing, Regulus returned to the time-loop, approaching it more confidently this time. Tonks first, and then perhaps a peek at the Lestrange Manor. His cousin's home was undoubtedly being watched, but a bit of creativity was likely to do the trick.

(If it did not - at least he would only suffer the trouble for a few hours at most.)

With the loop initiated, he apparated straight to the Tonks residence, and though he knew the time-loop would spare him the need to admit to either the visit or the nervousness, that nervousness was nonetheless swift and jarring as soon as the house appeared in front of him.

His (previously estranged) cousin's home looked exceptionally normal and well-cared for, backed by what he assumed to be a gated garden, though he could not see past the high fence. The path was lined with thick foliage - mostly flowers and well-trimmed bushes - and flowered ivy decorated the face of the house. Steeling himself, he rapped three knocks on the door and waited.

For several moments, there was silence on the other side of the door. However, the noise of rustling came from behind the fences, along with the sounds of metal clanging and finally, part of the fencing swung open to reveal Andromeda. She was holding her wand in one hand, and a large bucket in the other. Her wand lowered, though she kept a firm grasp of it still.

She blinked at him owlishly from beneath her comically large sunhat. "Good morning," she said, mildly.

"Good morning," Regulus greeted in return. "Normally, I would call ahead before arriving, but I'm afraid it's a bit impromptu today. I was wanting to speak to your daughter for a moment, and Sirius directed me here." Trying to smother the awkwardness (and reminding himself it would not endure past the day), he added, "I hope you are well."

"Discretion of a town crier as per usual," Andromeda sighed, before stuffing her wand in her pocket. "She's run upstairs to get changed, but you're welcome to wait if you want to come through."

"Your visit to Grimmauld Place was not so different," Regulus pointed out lightly. "All the same, I don't mind waiting."

"I fully admit that Nymphadora gets it from my side. She's got the subtlety of a sonorus charm too." Andromeda sounded amused, and rather fond of it. She took a couple of steps back, revealing the lush and colourful garden behind her. "I thought you went on holiday."

"I did, but I thought it might be better to come here, rather than ask her to visit Iago, all things considered," he said with a tight smile as he slipped past Andromeda - into the garden and around into house.

Regulus was not sure what he had expected from his rogue cousin's life beyond the Family, but the inside of the house appeared comfortable, thick with plants and photographs and peppered with little piles of clutter. The ceiling hung low, and though it might feel snug in other circumstances, he could not help but feel a little claustrophobic, thinking that this was the space Andromeda had run to so long ago. If not this building, then perhaps one like it.

Andromeda walked up two stairs, and leaned on the wooden bannister. Behind her, shifting colours indicated pictures of Tonks through several ages and looks respectively that peppered the stairway.

"Nymphadora!" Andromeda called.

"What?" came a muffed reply.

"You have a visitor," Andromeda called back.

"I'm in the loo!" came the reply.

Andromeda's shoulders slumped, and she muttered, "Indisposed, you're indis-oh, never mind," she raised her voice again. "Hurry down. You have to leave soon."

"'m coming now!"

Andromeda dropped down the stairs with a sigh. "I've attempted, but she's stubbornly rejected anything close to polite vocabulary. Half the residents of Iago would faint within half an hour of her being there." Andromeda looked him over curiously. "How did you get on?"

"With Iago? It remains a work in progress," he admitted, shaking his head.

"Oh dear," Andromeda quirked an eyebrow. "I suppose that means you got the 'looking everywhere but you' problem."

Regulus sighed heavily. "I did. Narcissa is still agreeing to meet and talk to me, which I am grateful for, but progress beyond that is currently stagnant."

Andromeda gave a heavy sigh, and then pulled off her hat. "I'm afraid things tend to be as they always were, or rather, the facade is always that things are as they always were. I'd be more prone to nostalgia for it if I'd stayed there with Nymphadora when she was little, but it would be wrong to blame a perfectly lovely village for ongoing familial dramatics."

Upstairs, there was the sound of something crashing, but it didn't seem to phase Andromeda. "Then again, I don't know if I'd have quite the confidence to have flaunted traitors and half-bloods and then invite the society princess for high tea. I'm surprised she agreed to do it again."

"She's perhaps the only one within that crowd that I do have any sort of confidence in, at present," he admitted, tipping his head to the side with a little frown. "Clearly enough, it's making her uncomfortable, and I wouldn't expect positive results if I were to corner her in public… but something must be connecting with her, I suppose."

"I wish you well," Andromeda said.

At the sound of the door, Andromeda took a few steps out of the way as Tonks clambered down the stairs. She took one look at her mum, then Regulus, and quirked her eyebrows. "Am I in trouble?"

"Have you done something you should be in trouble for?" Andromeda asked.

Tonks pointed at her. "I'm not falling for that one. What's up?"

"There is something I wish to discuss with you, and Sirius pointed me in this direction," Regulus responded. Not for the first time, he thought her brown hair made her look strangely like Andromeda, if different in manner. Less so than Andromeda's resemblance to her elder sister, but far more so than when a spiky mop of pink had been on Tonks's head. "If you have a moment?"

"Sure," Tonks shrugged. "You want to sit outside? If it's private, like."

Regulus nodded, trying to resist an uncomfortable shift as his eye caught a grouping of family photos just off to his right. He didn't let himself look too closely. "Outside would be perfect."

Tonks pushed past the furniture, slipped out of the back door, and stopped. She then went over to the seats furthest from the house and flopped on them. "No guarantee, but it's decently private."

"It seems like it should work well enough," he appraised as he sat down in the seat just across from her, offset slightly. After casting a quick spell to obscure their speech to any potential eavesdroppers beyond the fence, he felt quite satisfied. "I hope you will pardon me jumping right into it, but I wanted to ask about the Ministry's surveillance of the Lestrange Manor. I assume they are watching it?"

"A bit, but they don't know if they'll go back to it," Tonks admitted. "They clear houses out when they go to trial; anything Dark gets used as evidence. Still, if I remember right, that was back in '81, and there were some places they couldn't get into."

Thoughtfully, Regulus nodded as his hands folded neatly in his lap. Could there be a horcrux within Ministry evidence? If the Dark Lord had given one to her, would she have been bold enough to leave it out where it could be seen? Most likely not, and asking for examples of what the Ministry had cleaned out would be a list long enough to last all afternoon, even if Tonks did personally know in detail. Truthfully, he doubted that she did. Regardless, those tucked away holes were familiar to him, and his search criteria would be different than an Aurors…

"Any alarms that you are aware of?" he continued.

"Why," Tonks asked. "You want inside?"

"I do," he said with a nod, and once again felt a settling relief that the time-loop would wipe away these particular hints. "There is something specific I want to investigate but would rather not have Aurors rain down upon me. I prefer to be discreet about the specific goal, but I'm in occasional contact with Dumbledore about it, so it is not completely rogue."

"It's nothing to do with case evidence for your upcoming thing, right?" Tonks clarified. "I heard Dedalus was about to get into the nitty gritty."

Regulus winced a little but shook his head. "I'm not looking forward to that, but no, I'm not tampering with evidence."

"Then I can probably drop you off," Tonks admitted. "It's probably just a couple of trainees. We can't spare more than that. We're getting attacks or finding bodies nearly every day now."

With a frown, he nodded. The sweep of arrests had locked away most of the people significant to Regulus on a personal level, but there were always legions of more. It seemed that had not changed, even will all the years that had passed. "I appreciate it."

Tonks ducked her head. "Try not to get arrested in your first month of vigilantism. I'd appreciate that."

With a wry huff, Regulus slanted his mouth. "I will try not to. I would rather not be arrested at all, but the irony of being immediately arrested for acts against the Death Eaters would be unbearable."

"If you blew your secret identity before Fred and George, you'd never live it down," Tonks snorted.

"If that isn't motivation for discretion, I don't know what is," he said dryly.

"Listen," Tonks said, growing a little more serious. "We have our own watch schedules. If you're about to start trying to go about different Death Eater places looking for something, if it's a noticeable something, you could check with whoever's watched the place. They'll have seen it more than you have in the last fifteen years."

"A valid point, but that's part of the problem. I'm not exactly certain what it will be, and I cannot say if it would have even been noticeable." Regulus said with a slightly pinched expression. "Besides, I'm trying to limit the number of people who contact this particular search."

"You know you're going to get shit for that, right?" Tonks said.

With a firmer set to his mouth, Regulus shrugged. "The information is sensitive, and Dumbledore knows about it. I would like for everyone to trust me, but I'm not going to compromise what I'm doing to achieve that." A brief pause, and then a press forward to a related curiosity: "Do you have any insight on who does take issue with my presence? Sirius and Emmeline have both indicated the vote was not unanimous. I would not have expected it to be, but with the exception of Alastor Moody, who I already know has a problem with me, the others are hard to read."

"It's not all personal," Tonks admitted. "Despite you being you, the whole Death Eater moniker - even left behind by a couple of decades - it makes you a little scary for people. You're just going to have to keep your nose clean, and deal with it for a while 'cause they got every right to be afraid."

"I know," he said with a sigh, trying not to feel aggravated when it wasn't Tonks's fault, specifically. "However, I've kept my nose clean and have gone out of my way to be helpful for a year now. Everyone except for Moody is polite enough to my face at this point; I am just trying to get a concept for who is still concerned so I can take particular care."

"Okay, but you find out who's not real keen on you," Tonks started. "What do you do with that information? Try and talk to them more? Convince them that's just not who you are anymore?"

"When appropriate, yes," Regulus confirmed, though he thought it seemed a bit obvious. "As well as take greater care in what I say, if someone is likely to be more sensitive about certain issues. I can moderate it blind, but it helps to have context."

"You know that's going to make them even more freaked out, yeah?" Tonks said, skeptically.

"I'm not planning to declare it randomly," Regulus said a little defensively. "There is nothing strange about better-informed context."

Tonks looked him over critically, before seeming to decide on something. "Don't think Kings knows what to make of you. He's on board with the leaving the Death Eaters, but I don't think he's comfortable with a purist being in the Order. Even a dead polite one."

Regulus nodded thoughtfully; it sounded accurate to his expectations and consistent with what the others had said about the group in general. "Sirius and Emmeline did mention something of that sort, as well. I am trying to work on that," he said, though it was hard to say exactly how when the concerns felt a bit intangible to him. He was at least thinking about the concept of working on it. "Any other concerned parties of note?"

"Nah, think Vance has changed her mind," Tonks replied.

"I'm glad for that," he said quite sincerely as some of the tension lightened, if only a little. Emmeline's skepticism had been arguably more apparent than most when it chose to show - the Gaunt shack flickering in his mind as one such moment - but the trust extended had been more apparent, too. A complicated balance from the start, but Emmeline, at least, was among those he felt confident in, even without Tonks's report. (Nonetheless, it was a nice reminder.)

"Yeah, we know," Tonks said. "But it's not your past that's causing you a bit of a tiz - you're doing better than Snape, since he acts like a real git and half a decent human being thirty times a day, and you don't know what you'll get. It's just being the new kid, and being the new kid when you obviously still have a load of crap to work through. Nothing wrong with being posh or having a bit of ego; you don't treat people differently, and I've said as much, but if we're being dead honest here, I'm every bit as related to you as Draco Malfoy, and you don't think of us in the same way. I didn't expect you to; I didn't expect to even think you were halfway decent as a person, and I do. I'm still amazed you're decent enough to me, but the difference is really noticeable. Stuff like that, makes people talk. Talk doesn't mean they're right, does it? "

"No, it doesn't," Regulus agreed, shaking his head with a little frown, and though he itched to defend his particular dedication to Draco, there was little point in debating family matters that were going to unravel in a matter of hours, forcing him to debate it again. He felt a little guilty that she was so aware of that distinction, even if she was not exuding any bitterness about the matter. Huffing a small sigh, he continued, "There are many factors at play. It's not just a matter of blood, though I know it looks it. I appreciate your willingness to be understanding on the matter."

"After the Department of Mysteries, we're cool, alright?" Tonks said, giving him a lazy mock salute. "And you don't go about calling me my stupid name, so you're stand up in my book."

A little smile flickered on his mouth, and he nodded. "That sounds reasonable." With a little quip, he added, "Truth be told, I wouldn't want to be called Nymphadora either."

"You're a bloke." Tonks winced. "You'd have gotten Oberon."

"That would not have been so bad. Oberon is a moon, I believe, so at least it's still thematic," Regulus granted. "Even so, I prefer my own name."

"I think mine's hairy butterflies, bright multi-coloured ones," Tonks said, though she still made a face at it. "I think I started changing colours within an hour, so maybe that's why."

"That is quite apt, then, I will grant her that," he said with a little smile as he shook his head. "I should, however, move on to the Lestranges' to maintain my schedule. Does that suit your own?"

"Yeah, just give me a sec to make sure Mum isn't ear-to-the-door, and we can clear off," Tonks agreed. She stood up and wandered over to the kitchen door before turning and giving him a thumbs up. She then instantly tripped over one of the potted plants and let loose a string of swearing as she hobbled back over.

Wryly, Regulus shook his head. If anyone had the discretion of a (very clumsy) town crier, it was that one.

Ivy and grime had crept over the face of the Lestrange Manor in the decade and a half that it had stood vacant, and no matter how many times he had stepped inside as a teenager, he felt a wave of discomfort to stand before it again. Tonks had left shortly after dropping him off, and though he saw no indication of other visitors, he recalled her warning about the trainees. They were unlikely to be a great deal of danger to him, especially if the Ministry had made little progress with breaking into the more hidden areas of the manor, but if he wanted to make the most of this time, he would nonetheless need to keep his wits about him.

Once he was through the slew of protective charms and wards, he apparated immediately from the grounds into the manor itself; in just a crack, everything was dimmer, dustier, but equally quiet. The Lestrange Manor had never been a bustling place, but not even the manor's house-elf was likely to roam these halls now, if he were to make a guess at it.

For some time, he scaled the various stairs, roamed the halls, examined the cabinets, and for a time, even gave into the temptation to slip into the library for perhaps a little longer than he ought to have. As Tonks had indicated, the manor had been picked clean of artifacts and texts to such a thorough degree that he actually felt a little pang of regret that he had not gotten to the place first.

It was not until he reached the disguised entrance to one of his cousin's outsider-inaccessible rooms that he had any real hope of finding information of substance. Tonks's report that the Ministry had been unable to break through did not surprise him, but when he stuck his hand through the illusion of a portrait, he was met instead with the sharp, prickly stab of the wall hooking his fingers and palm against it for an uncomfortably long second before releasing. Retracting his hand, he winced, then slipped through the portrait into a pitch-dark room. Bitterly, he thought that Bellatrix's expression had never indicated that it was going to hurt quite that much when last he'd followed her inside, but he stone-faced the thought away and felt grateful that there had been no one present to witness the cringe. He wondered if she numbed her hand first, or whether she had just willed herself not to mind the wall's invasive analysis of her blood.

At the moment, her approach was a moot point, and after lighting the oil lamps hanging on the walls with a series of wand taps, Regulus began examining the room. Much of it was a collection of particularly illegal items that he wouldn't care to take home to Grimmauld Place, however rare they might be. He was not even entirely sure what some of it was, but it looked vaguely familiar enough that he was pretty certain it had all belonged to the Lestranges when he'd seen inside as a teenager - with the exception of a dusty box sitting on small, square table tucked in the far corner.

At first glance, the box was wholly unremarkable, but when the light of the oil lamp caught its glimmering insignia, Regulus saw that the lid off this particular box had the same design as he'd seen on Slytherin's locket. He scarcely spared the time to check for curses before pulling it open, but inside was arguably the most unremarkable set of objects he could have imagined. A thimble, what looked to be a plastic toy with a string, and several other things that he would not expect Bellatrix to find worthy of hiding away. For a hopeful moment, he thought there might a horcrux among them, hidden amongst the most unnoticeable objects, just as his (or rather Bella's) old tome had suggested to be most practical... but there was no indications of a curse on any of them, nor did they buzz with that eerie, otherworldly energy that made his skin crawl.

He had been studying the strange box and its Slytherin insignia for several minutes when a heart-stopping crack ripped the air behind him, startling the box in his hands - and to his disappointment, sending its content scattering to the floor. Heavy footsteps sounded from the open doorway - still disillusioned but nonetheless unlocked - as a gravelly voice boomed out, "Enjoying a bit of family nostalgia, are you?"

Regulus scowled at the table in front of him, then set to forcing his face into something calmer before twisting a stiff look over his shoulder. Trainees would have been preferred, but if Auror Alastor Moody was going to show up unannounced to interrupt his investigation, at least he was alone.

"It isn't a matter of nostalgia. I'm conducting an investigation," Regulus said, trying to bite away the urge to say the situation was not what it looked like - the thought sounded guilty even to Regulus.

"Alone, in the dark, holed away in your nightmare of a cousin's manor, where apparently you can just stroll in at any time? Never thought to mention that, did you?" Moody said with a little more leading accusation in his tone than Regulus thought was entirely necessary.

Bristling, Regulus sat the box aside and took a steadying breath, leaving the older man's words to simmer for an uncomfortable beat before he responded. "I don't have to clear everything with you personally. I am in contact with Dumbledore about the matter, which is enough."

"With Dumbledore, is it?" Moody asked, skepticism suddenly thick in his tone. "So he knows you're down here, then? Could fire call him in now?"

Regulus crinkled his nose. "Well, not specifically here; he's just privy to my investigation in general." With a slightly bolder annoyance, he added, "I know you would love an opportunity to shove me in front of the authorities, but I'm not breaking any laws. I opened everything as the residents would have, and I'm doing this for the sake of our mutual acquaintances."

"You used what I assume to be blood magic to open a secret chamber full of illegal contraband," Moody said, his creepy eye swirling around the room before locking on Regulus again. It was immensely unsettling.

"I didn't touch any of it. Feel free to check," Regulus argued, though the eye was now flicking down to the box.

"And what is that?"

"It didn't have anything interesting in it. Just some junk," Regulus said, despite his own curiosities about the innocuous contents. "Unless thimbles are illegal now."

"You expect me to believe that, do you?" Moody narrowed his normal eye, which was perhaps even creepier because the overly large one didn't narrow at all.

"It's true. Search the floor, if you must." Being assumed to be a liar when you were actually telling the truth was perhaps more aggravating than being caught in an actual lie, and for a moment, Regulus's expression communicated as much. "How did you even know I was in here?" he asked, acknowledging that it was the mostly blatantly suspicious question he could have asked, but the irritation was mounting, and at least it was information for later purposes. (Were it not for the interruption, he could still be looking-)

"This door is rigged to alert me the moment some bloody idiot successfully opens it," Moody said, quite rudely, as far as Regulus was concerned. "You just weren't the bloody idiot I expected." Jabbing a wand at him, Moody added, "Let's go, then."

"No need to hold me at wandpoint," Regulus said defensively, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "Just tell me where we're going."

"To sort this out," Moody answered, unbearably vague, and Regulus wished privately that this particular room permitted apparition like the rest of the massive manor did, even if it was restricted within the bounds of the wards. Getting to the grounds would have been enough.

"There's no need," Regulus argued, not sure he wanted to know what 'sorting it out' would entail. "Tonks knows I'm here, if you can bite down your accusations long enough to-"

A jarring whoosh tugged at him, and for a moment, everything went blurry and whirry around him; when it sharpened again, he was again standing before the time-loop, surrounded now with London sounds instead of judgemental Aurors.

Shaking his head (and trying to calm the thunder in his chest), Regulus let out a huff of a breath, as if in some attempt to breathe out the tension stringing up his limbs. Emotional exhaustion had set in far too deep for two o'clock in the afternoon, and though he could still squeeze one more time-loop into the day if he waited until that evening, he instead apparated straight to the house in Iago and made haste for a sofa to collapse on.

He had half a mind to tell Emmeline about the strange box he'd seen, and talking to Tonks had reminded him that he ought to thank her for the book she'd gifted him earlier that week - but the activities of his actual timestream could wait a little bit longer.