Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, I'm just borrowing.
**BLACK**
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Wintry Weather"
October-December, 1997
Perkin's Tent
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"I'm very sorry, Professor Black, but it's a necessary precaution!"
"Oh, he's not going to take that for an excuse," Regulus muttered, right before Phineas Nigellus started squawking. Harry gave Regulus a dirty look.
"Never mind where we are," he said. Regulus rolled his eyes and turned his back on the portrait the three of them had pulled out after spying on the fugitive Muggle-borns and goblins. He leaned back, relaxing, listening to their conversation with one side of his head.
It wasn't a very interesting conversation. Hermione and Harry were asking all the wrong questions, about their friends, and the sword.
"Well, goodnight to you." Regulus was drawn back into the conversation by Phineas' apparent goodbye.
"Wait!" Regulus burst out, moving closer to the portrait. "Wait," he said, quieter.
"Who – who is this?" Nigellus said, moving away from the exit, his curiosity piqued. "Mr. Weasley?"
Regulus snorted. "Not even close. I'm the one asking the questions right now, Professor. Nigellus – " He paused. "How is Hogwarts?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to clarify, Mr. Mysterious," the professor snapped.
"When I – when I was at Hogwarts," Regulus began slowly, making eye contact with Hermione and Harry to let them know that they were in this conversation too. "When I was at Hogwarts, some students became Death Eaters, and…they started making things…difficult…for other students. And…well, I heard that Amycus and Alecto Carrow were teaching there." Regulus shook his head in disgust. "Is Hogwarts the same as it was when Granger and Potter left it?"
"Are you saying you didn't leave at the same time?" Phineas inquired. "Wait a minute – your voice – say something else…"
Harry and Hermione shook their heads at Regulus furiously, waving their hands.
Regulus ignored them. "You haven't answered my question!" he said harshly. He felt his eyes and his core begin pulsing with magical energy as he thought about the horrors that Hogwarts could be facing, in this time, at this moment.
Phineas Nigellus froze. "Ah, yes," he said. "The little Black boy. What was your name? I can't quite remember…you were always so quiet, so biddable, after that spitfire of an older brother."
Regulus stared at the portrait, a black fire fueled by rage and fear flickering in his eyes.
"This is news," Phineas continued quietly. "This is news indeed. How did they bring you back, young…Black?"
"Put him away," Regulus said suddenly, staring off into the distance. "He's told us all he can. Put him away."
"Wait – no – you can't – "
Phineas' cries were suddenly cut off as Hermione shoved him in the bag.
"Regulus…" she said, reaching out to him. "Regulus, are you okay?"
He turned to her, razor sharp eyes, and a cutting grin, fire subdued. He jumped up, pulling her to her feet and waltzing her around the room. She laughed. "Regulus, what – what are you doing?"
"I am fine," he said breathlessly. "Wonderful. Hermione, what do you know about Gryffindor's sword!"
She looked at him, confused.
"The last time Phineas Nigellus saw it, Dumbledore was breaking a ring with it," he prompted.
"Marvolo Gaunt's ring," Harry said, standing, and moving over to Hermione.
"Harry!" Hermione gasped.
"I know!" He shouted in return.
"The sword can destroy Horcruxes!" Hermione squealed, looking back and forth between Regulus and Harry as she continued on with her spiel. Regulus grinned as they connected the dots, finishing each other's thoughts in the way that only people who grew up together could.
"I've got to – maybe in my books – somewhere, something, Dumbledore wrote personal notes in the books as he read them, maybe he said something about the sword, imbibing the basilisk venom – I'm just going to – " Hermione's words were a garbled rush, and she backed quickly out of the room before rushing to her own sleeping quarters.
Regulus and Harry shared a quick laugh.
"She is worth ten of R – " Regulus cut himself off, glancing worriedly at Harry. But the other man just nodded, resigned.
"She is," Harry quietly agreed. "But… he was my best friend."
"I know."
"So…now what?" Harry turned to stare at the Black.
Regulus shrugged. "Find Horcruxes. Destroy Horcruxes. Kill Voldemort. Hermione'll have some ideas, soon enough. She can whip us into shape."
Harry nodded. He backed up until the backs of his knees hit an armchair, which he collapsed in. "I guess that's all we can do," he sighed. "Rely on Hermione?"
Regulus squinted. "Ehhhh…maybe just, see how we can help and support her?"
Harry barked a laugh. "That's always the best route to take, when dealing with Hermione."
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Regulus couldn't stand the silence in the room. Harry was content to sit there, poring over a piece of paper with markings Regulus couldn't quite make out. He made an excuse then headed to the bathroom. Halfway there, he changed his mind, heading to his bed, where he promptly collapsed. Regulus fluffed up his pillow a few times, then rolled over. It was late. He might as well try to get some sleep.
He thought of Hermione, hunkered down in her room with all her books. A mind like hers…ever since he had met her, Regulus had been in awe of what the small woman could do. To be perfectly honest, if he woke up in the morning to find she had magically solved all of their problems like a fairy godmother, he wouldn't be surprised.
Regulus rolled over, facing the door, and jumped when he saw a shadow standing in the door way. His hand was almost to his wand when the figure spoke.
"Regulus?" Hermione said in a quavering voice.
"Hermione," he said, sitting up on the side of his bed and looking at her, her hair fluffed out to twice its normal size.
"I…" she started, then just stood there, looking lost.
"Come here," he said, opening his arms. Sighing, she walked into his embrace.
"It's such a simple problem," she whispered. "The sword imbibed the venom, the venom from the basilisk that can kill Horcruxes. Find the sword, then you and Harry won't have to wear that speck of evil around your necks every day. Don't think I haven't noticed you won't let me touch it, by the way."
Hermione wiggled on the bed, poking him and getting comfortable. "I wouldn't have even a trace of that evil marring your pure soul," Regulus joked.
Hermione snorted. "It's such a simple problem," Hermione said again. "I just need to find the sword. How could Dumbledore lose a sword?"
"Very easily, it seems," Regulus said. "We'll find it, Hermione."
"Will we?" She pulled away from him a bit, and shook her head. "I don't know, Regulus. I just don't know."
He sighed and pulled her back to him, rubbing her back.. "I just – just – can't think," she said.
"Go sleep," Regulus prompted. "You'll have a fresh outlook in the morning and maybe the simple problem will be even simpler."
"Maybe," Hermione agreed. After a moment, she spoke again. "Regulus – can – can I stay here tonight?"
He hesitated. It wasn't the done thing, sleeping in the same bed as a witch who wasn't your affianced or your wife. But this was a new age, he supposed…a new age, and a new time.
"Yes," he said. And they stayed there in the dark, listening to the rain and holding each other.
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Their evenings became much quieter, more subdued. And the wintry weather did nothing to help lift their spirits Hermione researched with Regulus by her side, and Harry stared at a large piece of parchment paper, whenever they weren't attending to their basic survival needs. It was the third evening after Hermione's revelation, after the third day of searching for Gryffindor's sword, after the third day of pointless speculation, when Regulus got a close enough look at the paper Harry had to recognize it.
He couldn't hold in the burst of laughter. Harry and Hermione looked up at him as if he had finally gone around the bend, the way his good old mother had. "Not crazy," he managed, holding his hands up. After he had sufficiently recovered, he pointed at the map in Harry's lap. "Where'd you get the Marauder's Map?" he asked.
"How do you know about this?" Harry asked him, folding the map up.
"I heard it get confiscated by Filch," Regulus said.
"You did?" Harry asked incredulously.
"He probably helped it get confiscated." Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
"Yup," Regulus chuckled. Harry shook his head, hiding his own chuckling, his expression conflicted. The Potter wasn't sure whether to feel enraged on behalf of his father, or to enjoy the joke with his friend. "It was fun, too," Regulus added.
Hermione groaned. "Boys," she said, smacking her head. "I'm going to go find some intelligent conversation." She made as if to stand from where she was sitting in the middle of the couch.
"What, I'm not good enough?" Regulus asked, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her from getting up.
"Nope," she said, worming her way out of his grasp and practically dancing out of the room.
"You two – " Harry said, looking between the door Hermione had just left through, and Regulus. "Is there something I should know?"
"Knock on doors before you enter," Regulus said seriously. Harry recoiled in horror. "Kidding, kidding," Regulus reassured him. "I'm sure if there ever is anything you should know, Hermione will tell you."
Harry nodded uncertainly. "Be good to her," he said. Regulus nodded seriously.
"I have no intention of doing otherwise."
A minute later, Hermione huffed into the room, dragging Phineas Nigellus' portrait behind her.
"That's your idea of intelligent conversation?" Regulus scoffed. "A portrait?"
"Yes," Hermione said, placing the portrait on an empty chair. "And you will be quiet. I don't know – I mean, Snape obviously knows you're back, but I don't want anyone else to find out." She tapped Regulus on the nose before sitting back down beside him. "Just in case."
Regulus sighed, but he didn't object when, for many evenings after, Harry or Hermione took the blindfolded painting of his forefather out to pump it for information about the people they had left behind.
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It was getting near Christmas, and they hadn't had any breakthroughs, traveling up and down the country, never staying in one place or area too long. Hermione had stolen them some dinner from a supermarket; well, maybe not stealing exactly, since she did insist she left money for the supplies.
It made Regulus miss the days when they still had his ginormous food bags, or the days when they still had Kreacher to cook for them, back at Grimmauld Place, where there were beds, and food, and morning tea, and cake…and Thorfinn Yaxley.
Regulus absent-mindedly wondered if he were still alive as he meandered out of the tent, leaving Harry laying on the floor, contemplating life, and Hermione in a chair deciphering her runic version of the Tales of Beedle the Bard.
He breathed in the cold air, looking down from the hill they were on into the town below, glittering with Christmas lights. He tried not to remember how Christmases had been at his home, tried to focus on the present.
Footsteps crunching through the snow behind him alerted him to another's presence. He tensed, hand creeping to his pocket, until Hermione's voice calmed him.
"It's alright, it's just me." She walked until she was directly beside him, and laid a hand on his shoulder. They stood there in silence for a few moments, connected only by Hermione's hand.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Hermione finally asked.
Regulus turned to her, bemused. "What?"
"Oh – sorry, muggle thing," she laughed. "Sickle for your thoughts?"
Regulus cracked a grin. "I assure you my thoughts are worth much more than that."
"Well, I'd have offered a galleon but I'm afraid we're all sadly broke."
"Hm," Regulus smiled. He looked away, preoccupied. Hermione, genuinely worried now, slid her hand from his shoulder down his arm to hold his hand, turning her face towards his.
"Regulus?" she asked.
He was quiet, looking out upon the town. "It's Christmas," he said suddenly. "Or somewhere thereabouts."
"I know," Hermione said. "It's strange, not knowing the exact date."
"I hated Christmas, growing up," Regulus said, shaking his head. "Well – at least after Sirius turned eleven. He never got presents after he was sorted into Gryffindor, see…the disappointment of an heir. I was still perfect, perfect Regulus, though…Walburga showered me in presents. I was young, I suppose, although only a little younger than Sirius and it seemed like thousands of presents, sitting under the tree and in my stocking, all for me. But Sirius' stocking was always empty. I gave him some of my presents the first year, and the second year…the third year, the year before I was to go to Hogwarts, I caught on and attempted to cancel Christmas that year." Regulus huffed a laugh, shaking his head in derision. "Stupid. Walburga made me open every single one in front of Sirius. I'll never forget the way he looked at our mother. The look in his eyes…"
"Did he hate her?" Hermione asked quietly.
"No," Regulus said abruptly. "It was like – like a kicked dog, or puppy. Always…always hoping for a pet, and getting a kick."
Regulus' lips pinched together as he remembered what Walburga told him. "It's Christmas, darling," his mother would say. "Good little boys always get presents."
He was shaking now. Strong emotions seemed to bring out that foreign magic inside of him, and he had made no attempt to curb his hatred for Christmas.
{Odious woman.} For once, the voice that had Regulus convinced he was crazy agreed with him.
"Regulus?" Hermione's voice pulled him out of his head, to the present. He turned his head to see her worried brown eyes. She smiled hesitantly, and he realized he was clutching her hand in a death grip. "I can see how Walburga could be enough to put you off Christmas."
Regulus smiled back, then turned back to the town and sighed. "I wonder what it would be like to celebrate Christmas, instead of considering it an ordeal to get through every single year."
"Perhaps one day, after…we can have a real Christmas together."
Regulus glanced at Hermione out of the corner of his eye. She had a secret smile on her face. "I would like that," Regulus said, feeling the truth of his words in his bones.
A little fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach made Hermione shiver. Quickly, before she could chicken out, she stood on her tip-toes and brushed her lips against Regulus' cheek.
Regulus stood there, turned to stone with shock. "C'mon," Hermione nudged, tugging at their linked hands. "It's cold. Let's go back to the tent."
Shaking himself, he turned and followed Hermione back to the tent. Stomping their boots outside, they walked in, only to be attacked by an incomprehensible onslaught of words from Harry's mouth.
"Regulus, Hermione, I think it's in Godric's Hollow – Gryffindor's sword – Bathilda Bagshot was friends with my parents, my Mum mentioned her in a letter, and I was looking at Hermione's Beedle book and I saw this! Krum said it was Grindewald's mark, and – "
"Stop!" Regulus finally yelled, taking a step back. He turned to Hermione, who looked just as confused as he felt. "What is going on here?"
"I found a mark in Hermione's book, Krum said it was Grindewald's mark, but ignore that for now, we need to go to Godric's Hollow, it was named for Godric Gryffindor, I think Dumbledore left the sword with Bathilda Bagshot!" Harry spit all of this out, then heaved in a huge breath after the last word.
"What?" Hermione said, stunned.
"We're going to Godric's Hollow," Harry said excitedly. "We're going to see my home."
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a/n: Review:) they motivate me
I know not much happened in this chapter, but it is a necessary piece to link chapter 12 to chapter 14...which will be Godric's Hollow! I'm excited.
Happy New Year!