renascentia: into the fire

by tonberrys-and-kuchikopi

The shadowed chaos billows to new heights of aggression, setting aflame the spread of an escalating war as the hunt for the horcruxes resumes with more pointed aims. Family, allegiance, and ideology are put to the test as conflicting sides yank and clash, calling into question what it means to stand for one side or another - or somewhere in between. (Sequel to Ren: From the Ashes)

21. Chapter 21

Note: This chapter contains some non-graphic violence.

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Chapter 21

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In one hand, Regulus held a letter addressed to Bellatrix, neatly folded but not yet confined to an envelope; in the other, a written detail of the points Dedalus had instructed him to cover prior to their case at the Ministry - in its second draft, based on Dedalus's suggestions a few days prior, but not yet approved for submission. (More directness here, less detail there…) Regulus did not like the prospect of airing out the worst of the things he had done as a teenager, but he supposed it was better to do so in a controlled environment than it was to let them come out with some chaotic accusation - from either side, the way things were looking. Their appointment was schedule for mid-afternoon, so that controlled environment was nearly upon him, whether he liked it or not.

Fingers gripping the letter to Bellatrix a little more tightly, he thought back to when he'd seen her, a week before. Regulus had not liked it, the way she made him feel like a tongue-tied child, nor had he liked the way she suggested that making her point of reciprocity was more important than what had happened to his father - her own uncle. For a fleeting moment, he had considered asking Narcissa if she was aware of the details, but that thought had been stamped out rather swiftly. Even if she did know - which he doubted, given her tangential connection to the Death Eaters - she was unlikely to tell him if Bellatrix did not want him to know.

Telling the Order had crossed his mind, but everyone was so wrapped up in the Potter memorial that no moment felt like the right moment. His brother's birthday had followed just after, but even now it was difficult to drum up the words when the ultimatum had sat for so long. If Moody remained untouched, Bellatrix was not going to tell him anything - but he had a sneaking feeling that she would require grand, definitive proof, and Moody was unlikely to feel motivated to help him, just for old information about a dead purist. Moody didn't even like him.

All week, Regulus had felt particularly attached to his father's study, whether it was turning over memories or looking through his father's journals and documentation in search of the most effective way to ward out individual family members. Though he had found a number of useful wards to consider, the blood magic he had come across the week before still appeared to be the best option. Granted, Bellatrix had not attempted to attack him that night in Iago, so he was no closer to actually using that blood magic… but present practicality aside, it looked to be the most effective.

Regulus was sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs in his father's study when Dedalus arrived, light on his feet and perhaps a little bit scattered, but Regulus would say that the man always looked a little bit scattered..

"Good morning!" Dedalus looked suddenly extremely startled. "Is it still morning?"

Regulus nodded. "Yes, by a little bit."

"Good." He looked rather relieved at that. "I'm so sorry this has taken so long! Everyone is in such a tiswas, and with the fires, trying to find anything among the mayhem has been very, very unpleasant."

"I understand," Regulus said, shaking his head. "There is a lot going on. I made the requested changes." He held out the written details of his Death Eater experience, though he hesitated just a beat before adding: "With that being said, I… do have something of an additional confession, but I was not certain if I ought to include it."

Dedalus looked intrigued by the idea. "Oh?"

"My cousin - Bellatrix - contacted me recently," Regulus forced himself to say. "I met her alone, as she requested… I know well that if she sensed duplicity, it was likely to turn violent in an instant." The point felt like an excuse - and it was, a little bit - but he kept on. "She offered a proposal, but I did not follow through with it; rather, I've written a letter to establish that more clearly, and I intend to send it today. With that being said, I was uncertain whether I ought to mention as much, though it is not strictly a Death Eater crime… and if I do, whether I ought to have it to show them as proof-" he held up the letter "-or whether sending it prior is sufficient."

Dedalus seemed utterly flabbergasted. "Well, I, well, I wouldn't bring it up with the Ministry unless they ask. Are you quite sure sending her a message is a wise idea?"

Regulus nodded, more of a pensive gesture than one of confirmation. "Wiser than telling her in person, I expect. So if the Ministry was to find out after the pardon, it wouldn't be a problem? I expect she will be very angry with me, and I cannot guarantee she would not bring it up if she were ever cornered." Frowning, he added, "But I will take your advice in this, as I have a more difficult time guessing at the Ministry's actions than I do guessing at Bellatrix's, unfortunately."

"It definitely wouldn't look very good!" Dedalus said, warily. "But there's no legal recourse for it, and coming out with it will make you seem a lot more entrenched than you seem to be."

Regulus pressed his lips to a line with a soft huff. As long as speaking with her could not be construed as a crime by some reading of the law that he wasn't aware of, then he would rather not talk about it, so he supposed that suited well enough. "I will be relieved when this is over."

Dedalus gave a firm nod, then took out a quill. "Then let's put our best foot forward, and get started!"

With the letter still in hand, Regulus dipped his chin. Leaving Dedalus to read through the newest version of his statement, Regulus briefly excused himself upstairs to where Deimos was perched and chittering to Kreacher, who was paying the owl as much attention as Hedwig did on her rare visits... which was to say very little. He felt sorry for Deimos, social as the bird seemed to be. Regulus smoothed his owl's feathers, and when the hoots quieted slightly, he grabbed a treat from the pouch near the window.

"I have a letter for you to deliver, Deimos," Regulus said as he pulled an envelope from a nearby desk.

Before sticking the parchment inside, he glanced over the words. In truth, it could hardly even be called a letter so much as a note, short as it was: 'I must decline your offer,' signed with his initials. He had written drafts that were more expansive, but each seemed to devolve into topics that were poorly covered in a letter format and had been burned in the fireplace, in the end. This was not a conversation - it was an answer.

Dedalus's hesitation prickled in his mind, and with a pause, Regulus considered the point that letters could be tampered with. It did not change the fact it was safer than a face to face rejection, not did he want to leave the answer ambiguous… After all, there was a certain off-footedness to not knowing what she was thinking, and it almost seemed better to know she was angry than to wonder if she she knew enough to be angry yet.

Pulling out his wand, Regulus cast a permanency spell on the parchment, then tested it with a wave. As expected, the letters all remained in place. Forgery was still a possibility, but there were few letters available, and he had written enough letters to his cousins that it was not this note that would prove the problem.

Satisfied with the level of precaution, Regulus folded the parchment, stuck it in the envelope, and held it out to Deimos, who grasped it in a talon.

Anxiety was already tightening in his chest, but his tone was resolved as he spoke: "Deliver to Bellatrix Lestrange."

---

The infiltration of the Department of Mysteries had been the first time - and also the most recent time - that Regulus had ever actually stepped foot in their Ministry building. While he had followed Dedalus down to the courtrooms and other law-related spaces, Regulus had been trying to decide whether he was experiencing more or less anxiety than he had the day that he and half the Order had rushed in to extract Harry and the prophecy. Perhaps it was because he was dwelling in the moment, rather than riding on adrenaline, but the sick turning in his stomach might be a little bit worse now.

Regulus had already submitted his official statement, approved in full by Dedalus prior to their appointment, but he still felt that horrible plummet in his stomach anytime he thought about having to talk to anyone about the details of what he had done, teenager or not. Dedalus seemed confident enough - or at least he was saying so - and Dumbledore had thrown in his support, even if he was not physically present for the questioning portion of this ordeal… but that did not change the topic of the day.

On the bright side, Regulus reminded himself that it was better to be questioned by only a few people in a private room, rather than the full Wizengamot spread of a criminal trial… All he had to do was get through this interaction unscathed, and there was a chance he could just go home: home to Sirius, to Kreacher, to his life, to Emmeline - she has invited him to visit the new flat, when this ordeal was over. Though he tried to think forward, the staleness of the room kept pulling his thoughts backwards.

This plea was rooted in the past, and he felt rooted with it.

For the better part of an hour, Dedalus was going over the statement with the panel of interrogators; there would be three Ministry workers present, in addition to Dedalus himself - a member of the Wizengamot, representing the higher law, and two from the Auror department, due to the involvement of dark wizards.

When at last the door opened to end the agonising wait, he tried to keep his manner calm - rather than jumpy - but the first face he saw strolling through the door nearly knocked the wind out of him.

It was Sebastian Avery's father, looking him straight in the eye with an expression that suggested his involvement was not accidental. Regulus had not even realised he sat on the Wizengamot, but after a decade and a half, perhaps it oughtn't be surprising that he would have moved up in position…

The nostalgia only made the roiling in his stomach worse. Magnus Avery had always been very friendly to him - had even taken him and the Avery children to a quidditch game one summer, around Regulus's birthday - but his eyes did not look friendly at all. Why it wasn't Dumbledore as his representative, he did not know - was Dumbledore not connected to the Wizengamot? - but perhaps his willingness to vouch as a character witness proved a conflict of interest… or perhaps he was busy chasing horcruxes. It was difficult to say.

Filing in after were Dedalus, Kingsley (relieving, at least, to have a second Order member involved), and a man that Dedalus introduced as Gawain Robards. Though he kept his stubborn stare locked to the front, Regulus felt a niggling temptation to look at the floor - and a more chaotic temptation to stare at Avery's father, as if taking his eyes off the man might result in some sudden attack, Aurors present or not.

It was an absurd thought, of course. There was an attack in progress, but clearly, that attack was not intended to be physical.

Each of the men took seats at the table, with at least one chair between each of them. Robards, a serious-looking man with slicked back hair, was the first to break the silence as he initiated a dictaquill.

"Record a new interview reference. Monday, 4th of November 1996 at ten past three in the afternoon. Staff present are myself, Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror Office; Magnus Avery, resentative of the courts; and Kingsley Shacklebolt, senior Auror. Also present, Regulus A. Black, with his representative, Dedalus Diggle. I have the document present that was entered into evidence. This is being submitted for sentence bargaining under voluntary circumstances; thus, a waiver of right to trial and authenticity of information will be produced and signed if terms are met. The details of this meeting will remain sealed until after a conclusion is agreed upon.

"We are not here to discuss whether or not Black has been a Death Eater, as it has been agreed upon that he doesn't contest this fact. We are here to discuss sentence bargaining. The circumstances affected are age, time period of involvement, voluntary admission, key information insight - which will have to be reviewed for authenticity - character recommendations filed, and behaviour. If an agreement is met with consensus on appropriate recourse, it will be taken to the Wizengamot for approval. Mr. Black, it is my understanding you have been briefed on this. Do you any questions before we begin?"

Regulus's limbs felt as rigid as steel, posture prim but frozen as he shook his head. His eyes flicked down to the dictaquill, then, hovering still, and he forced himself to speak before someone else inevitably reminded him. "No questions."

"Can you confirm the date of your last action that falls under the purview of being a Death Eater?" Robards continued, with a nod.

Already, Regulus could feel his mind start to reel, and though he was focused on Robards, he could feel Avery's father watching him - undoubtedly trying to discourage him from going through with it at all, or at least spying on what he was saying… Whatever the purpose, Regulus did not like it, but he could not stop now. The Death Eaters were going to try to kill him, no matter what he said…

"Spring holidays of my seventh year at school," Regulus started. "I cannot recall the exact date, but it was mid-April, 1979. I estimate April 18th, or within a few days of it." As his mouth closed to a steadying line, he reminded himself to speak carefully - honest, but not too detailed if no one asks...

"And that action was?" Robards prompted.

"I permitted use of my house-elf for some task, at the suggestion of my cousin Bellatrix. I was not told the nature of the task, but I was aware that it was for the Death Eaters." Technically, the task was solely for the Dark Lord's selfish benefit, but now did not seem the time to get into those particular semantics.

"More of a verbal agreement than an action," Shacklebolt said, evenly.

"Agreed," Robards nodded. "Can you confirm the last action you personally took, prior to your departure?"

A fair point. The other actions he had taken were varying degrees of stressful to discuss, but he supposed that was the point. "Earlier that week, I took part in a training session that was focused on continuing to hone the use of dark magic and illegal curses."

"Please describe the training session," Robards replied.

Without meaning to, Regulus flicked his eyes over to Avery's father, whose dark gaze locked with his challengingly. The man's face was still and calm, save for the subtlest flicker in his eyebrow, but Regulus forcibly returned his attention to Robards before he lost his nerve.

"I was primarily instructed by my cousin Bellatrix." Saying her name twice within the span of a minute probably did not bode well for her mood with him, assuming that the Death Eater in the room was planning to tattle, but when her anger rained, it poured, and there was already a storm coming. "She was a mentor to myself and Barty Crouch, Jr., who was also present." He pushed past the stinging feeling to add, "I believe the spell that night was 'fauciem submersi'." A spell to conjure water in a person's throat - a little flutter of panic was starting to stutter in his chest, and he put intense focus into breathing that feeling away and speaking again, to derail his thoughts: "The location was the Lestrange Manor, if that matters."

"So Bellatrix Lestrange was instructing both you and Crouch in the curse," Robards summarised. "On who or what was this practice done?"

Regulus could feel his mouth and throat drying, but he made sure his voice was steady before answering. "Rabbits."

"Was there ever an instance of it being used on a person?" Robards questioned, without comment.

"That spell?" Regulus clarified, uncomfortably. "Not for myself, but I cannot speak for the others."

"For any dark magic while under direct instruction," Robards clarified.

Though Regulus knew that the entire point of being questioned was to answer those questions and thus include them in the plea for immunity, he still felt deeply uncomfortable, bringing up Unforgiveables to an Auror… Dedalus had said it was essential that he acknowledged the punishable crimes, lest they be brought up later, but that did not make them any easier. He expected this feeling was only going to get worse, the further back they went…

"Barty and I cast the Imperius Curse on each other, for the purposes of practicing both casting it and breaking out of it," Regulus said, and because he knew Robards was going to ask: "The other two Unforgiveables were part of the same series of lessons, but I have not cast either on a person."

"Ever?"

"Correct," Regulus said, glad there was at least one thing to feel confident in.

"For all three?" Robards clarified. "Then can you confirm your age at joining?"

"For all three, yes," Regulus confirmed. "Only the Imperius on Barty, within the context of training. As for when I joined… It was the summer between my fifth and sixth year. I was fifteen - sixteen, within a couple of weeks."

Robards looked from him, to Kingsley, who remained unreadable. "We have had scattered reports of seventh year students becoming involved, but fifteen is unusual. Why then?"

"It was a… tumultuous time for my family," Regulus said, carefully. "My brother had run away the summer before, and there was a great deal of tension - both within the family itself and in respect to how it made us look, I suppose." He shook his head, guilt burning hot and sick, as if they were sitting right there, hearing him speak about their family stressors freely - but he continued. "I was under the misguided impression that it would somehow solve my family's problems if they didn't have to worry about me being a traitor… It did ease some tension, though I would not say it actually solved any problems."

"And no mention was made of the fact you were significantly underage, to the point where you would still be under the Trace for a significant period of time?" Robards continued.

"Nor apparition," Kingsley added. "I saw that noted. If the last action taken was in early 1979, then you had only around six months in which you were capable of apparating. Most of which would have been spent in Hogwarts - a place you cannot apparate to or from. Would that mean you were only active, of age without the Trace, and capable of apparition in the end of July, August, and the winter holidays of 1978, then spring holidays of '79?"

Regulus tipped his head in a small nod. "Prior to that, it was primarily training and occasional surveillance." His eyes flicked over to Magnus Avery's stone-still expression, and Regulus could feel another twist of nerves. Telling the Death Eaters' training protocols and workarounds was probably another punishable offense to add to the list, but this was his chance to make the necessary points. If he was too vague or seemed to be hiding anything, he could lose this opportunity - making Avery a risk he simply had to be okay with taking. Looking back to Kingsley, he forced himself to keep talking. "In instances that I was assigned to a task that required apparition or magic, then portkeys, proximity to an adult, or magical artifacts were utilised as needed."

Regulus could feel Magnus Avery's glare boring into his head, but he kept his attention on Kingsley.

"None of this is giving me much pause for thought," Robards said, bluntly. "If this was all it was, I'd be inclined to suggest we forgo the rest and simply arrange an agreement now. However, there is one incident stopping me from doing that. I imagine you already know which - can you confirm the circumstances around it?"

The tension closed in on Regulus's chest and turned in his stomach, mind flashing with the heat of roaring flames. This was the subject he did not care to discuss, but silently he urged himself with the reminder that hiding it was the only way to guarantee he would not have immunity from it. Anything he was silent on could be used against him later - and he did not like the Death Eater ears listening to what that was.

"The summer before my seventh year, I was given instructions to take the lives of a witch and a wizard - the Boots." He could feel his face burning, but he forced himself on, trying not to think too hard about it. "I did so, with my cousin's supervision, because the Trace was still in place for another week or so."

Kingsley leant back, whispering something to Robards, who then simply nodded.

Robards then asked, "Why them?"

"I'm not sure," Regulus said, and he was watching the far edge of the table now. It felt even more horrifying to say as much to an Auror - two Aurors, even if one was Order - when it had felt bad enough, saying it to Sirius. He didn't even want to look at Avery's father's face, if for a different reason. "I asked Bellatrix beforehand, but she did not see fit to tell me."

"How long between instruction and act?" Robards asked.

"Approximately twenty-four hours," Regulus said to the table, wishing the floor would go ahead and swallow him up. Suddenly, his earlier thought of Death Eaters storming the meeting seemed like a desirable alternative, but they were doing him no such favours. "To prepare and carry out, as needed."

"Did you choose the method?" Robards asked.

Regulus nodded slightly, his throat threatening to catch, so he paused just a beat before responding. "I could not use magic without risking the Trace, but she told me to problem-solve, so I did."

Kingsley spoke up next. "What did you do, directly afterwards?"

Regulus flicked his eyes up at Kingsley. "I went home."

"After that," Kingsley gave the slightest of nods. "Did you do anything specific, or speak with anyone? You were still living at home with your parents, for example."

Regulus frowned, slightly. "I did not feel like talking... I just went to bed."

"Would you say then it had little effect on your life?" Robards asked, bluntly.

The words felt like a punch to the gut, and Regulus frowned deeper. "Do you expect me to have celebrated? I felt awful, so I didn't want to talk about it," he said, a little sharply, though the Dark Mark's ceremony still made him feel ill to remember. He had not felt celebratory at all. "I killed two people - of course that affected my life."

"Yet you remained another year," Robards said, evenly. "Why was that?"

"Because I was trying to keep my family together, not devastate them even more. Because essentially every person I interacted with on any sort of regular basis was a Death Eater or an avid supporter, from my family and my friends to my acquaintances, my friends' parents and a dormmate at Hogwarts," he started, feeling his voice strain slightly as emotion built up in his throat. The tone had gone a little pointed, though he didn't dare look at Avery's father. "Because once you join, you don't get to change your mind. Those hypocrites kill you, no matter who you are. Because I was a teenager and didn't know what to do except try to make it to the next Hogwarts term without getting myself or anyone else killed and hope that the war ended before Christmas." He put a hard stop on the words, took a steadying breath, then added more evenly: "But it did not."

"No, it did not." Robards lifted his quill, writing down something unknown. "We'll need to get the other work in order, establish an event timeline with the other people involved who have considerably larger case files associated with them. Diggle, you have your references in order?"

"We do!" Dedalus replied, fishing out more parchment from his bag. "Written and sealed, but we are quite obviously willing to give it at court if it's required."

"This could take some time. We will call you in again, so remain in country and register your wand on your way out." Robards took the parchment, glancing over it and lifting it to get a better look. "If these are accurate and information provided is good, I will recommend - provided the circumstances in which these crimes were done underage and can be considered coerced - a sentence without incarceration. Mr. Avery and Shacklebolt can confer with their colleagues, and I'll speak to the Minister. Any other queries?"

Tension gave way to the feeling of being completely drained, but the questioning was finally over, so it was not a wholly negative feeling. Regulus held his posture and shook his head - first at Robards and Kingsley, then lastly to Magnus Avery, whose gaze he held a little longer.

"I have said all I need to say." Regulus watched the subtle flickers around his eyes, wondering if it was anger or fear that Regulus was going to say something about the fact that there had been one Death Eater present in the room, and it was not the one being questioned. Regulus did have to admit the temptation was there, but now was probably not the opportune moment. They would not arrest him on the spot without proof… most likely… He would need to ask Dedalus what he was meant to do in a situation like that...

"We will be in touch," the man said, and though his tone could not have sounded menacing to anyone else's ears, Regulus doubted he was referring to the Ministry. The hammering in Regulus's chest returned, but he just held the look and nodded, willing the interaction to simply finish itself.

Fortunately, it did.

"Then interview concluded, record time." Robards stood, and both Dedalus and Kingsley took their cue from that to do the same.

"Front desk?" Dedalus asked, nodding his head in the direction of the door. "It won't take a minute, then we can be on our way. I don't really think you want to linger!"

Regulus flicked his eyes back to Dedalus and nodded. Steadying himself to stand, he did not wait for a second invitation to leave.

---

Regulus was still turning over the Ministry appointment in his mind when he stepped into the house. Before he even made it halfway down the hallway, he saw his brother appear at the top of the stairs that led up from the kitchen.

"You're still here, then." Sirius leaned his shoulder against the wall, exhaling deeply. "Good. You seem like the type who gets seasick."

"They were unclear about what is going to happen, but they at least indicated that it oughtn't be Azkaban," Regulus said with a heavy exhale of his own. "That is sufficient for the moment."

Sirius looked down briefly, then nodded. "Right, then. I'll give Dumbledore something, even when he's elusive, he can come through in a pinch when he wants to. How was it?"

"Awful, but not as awful as it could have been. Kingsley and an Auror named Robards were representing law enforcement. Magnus Avery was unfortunately present as the Wizengamot representative, but he did more pointed staring than actual questioning," Regulus said with a frown. "I suppose there is some benefit to knowing what they know, rather than wondering if they have dug it out of some case file they are not supposed to look at."

"They sent a Death Eater representative from the Wizengamot," Sirius said, his voice thick with derision. "Whose kid has now been arrested twice."

"I was wondering about that very thing, but it was stressful enough without making an ordeal of it," Regulus said, shaking his head. "Perhaps he is going the way of Barty's father - except it is a blatant lie when he says he didn't know about his son, and instead of actually writing him off, he's likely to accept him back if they manage another breakout…"

"That shouldn't be hard," Sirius replied, rolling his eyes. "There's no dementors, and if Tonks is right, the Aurors and hits are spread so thin that they're barely able to deal with the incoming cases, let alone babysitting. It's got to be a when, not an if."

Regulus nodded, trying not to think about how furious Mulciber was likely to be when that time came - but at least Regulus's status as an unrepentant defector would be old news by then. Mulciber could not tell them anything that would make them significantly angrier.

"I'm not certain what the intention was, sitting in, other than to hear what I said," Regulus added, shaking his head again. "I might actually be more nervous if he tries to 'help' me than if he contests it, but silence is not the most terrible option. I suppose I will bring it up to Dedalus, tomorrow - make sure his name on the document won't void anything down the line."

"That's probably why it was him; they know half your family tree is waving the Voldemort banner, and obviously, he would know something about that and 'appreciate' your point of view." Sirius gave a bark of laughter, then grinned. "He understands a lot more than he's letting on. Should be alright. Dedalus and Kingsley both know he's lying arse about face, and they should be checking it."

Regulus nodded. "I just want for this to be over."

"You don't want it to be over that quickly," Sirius said. "When it's quick, people say no."

"I suppose so," Regulus allowed with a frown. "It will be worth it in the end, yes?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Am I really the person to ask?"

"Well, you are the only person I am on speaking terms with who has endured an unpleasant legal situation and come out better on the other side… the difference being that you didn't actually do it, and I did." He frowned, feeling another stab of guilt. "But the point still stands."

"I wasn't present for it," Sirius pointed out, lightly. "Good thing, too. If Avery'd shown up, I'd have probably thumped him and gotten nicked for that. At least they can't leak anything - the Ministry will already know, vigilantism aside."

Regulus nodded. "That is good, at least, because I cannot imagine they are going to be very happy."

"Do you care?"

"Not enough to regret it," Regulus admitted, though he felt a different sort of guilt, imagining how angry Bellatrix was going to be between this and his rejection of her offer - and what Bellatrix was likely to say to Narcissa. Most of his social peers had written him off from the start, but Cissa had at least hesitated. Somehow, he doubted he would have much opportunity to explain himself… and even if he did, he doubted she would understand. "I don't care if the Death Eaters are angry, or if the Dark Lord is angry - although this isn't how I imagined it would all go."

"Your imagination has more common sense than the people involved," Sirius told him, bluntly. "Betrayal always feels like shit, even when it's the right thing to do."

"It does," Regulus said - a sentiment that he could agree applied to both points, even if the first was a bit rude to the individuals in question. "I did not intend to betray anyone, but it has gotten rather messy."

"If it makes you feel any better, they did it first," Sirius replied. "They're the idiots who put their family, friend, whatever applies in the murder club at fifteen and thought it was a jolly excellent idea, then said no backsies when you sobered up. "

Regulus nodded, slightly. "I cannot say it exactly makes me feel better, but I appreciate it, all the same."

Sirius sighed. "So more Narcissa-laden guilt for you?"

"Just the normal amount of Narcissa," Regulus said with a frown.

"So is this guilt over what you've done, over their perceived betrayal, over dobbing in people who were once your friends and now likely want you dead, or that this is going down without any sort or plan for her kid, or something else entirely?" Sirius asked.

Regulus shook his head with a little huff of a sigh. "You ask that like there's only one thing to be guilty about."

"At least only feel guilty for things that are truly your fault," Sirius said, then shooting him a smile. "The rest can piss off."

Regulus's mouth flicked up at the corner, and though he still felt a bit miserable, it was less so. Every one of those things often felt as though they were at least partially his own fault, but logically, he knew that wasn't the case, and it helped to hear as much. Though he could feel gratitude on the tip of his tongue, he instead strengthened the smile and looked to his brother with a nod. "I will make an effort to distinguish as such."

"I'm always available to provide a checklist for you," Sirius offered.

Quirking an eyebrow, Regulus paused a beat before asking: "Do you actually have a checklist?"

"A small one, in my mind." Sirius put his fingers about half an inch apart. "Attaching blame to the wrong person just makes vengeance really unsatisfying."

"That is one way of looking at it," Regulus said, feeling his mood lighten a bit more.

"You were also a child around a lot of adults who should have known better," Sirius added. "I blame you for having a stupid idea, but I blame them a lot more for letting an upset fifteen-year-old determine his fate."

"It was a really stupid idea," Regulus granted. "Hindsight is so jarring."

"You were just trying to fix something that you couldn't. I'll take my fair share for leaving you to deal with it alone," Sirius said, quietly. "I really should have known better than to assume you'd get any more than I did, and it seems obvious now. It'd been so long, I'd forgotten how it felt to be afraid to lose them."

"I assumed you truly didn't care, back then - only when it suited your convenience… but I'm glad I was wrong." Regulus looked upwards, as if he could see through the ceiling, up into drawing room, then down the line of portraits along the hallway. "Thank you for coming back. I know you hate it here, and that isn't convenient at all."

"You were younger than Harry is right now." Sirius shrugged. "Whatever happened in the Death Eaters, I'll leave you to deal with as you see fit. Just try and cut some slack on the family front, because something so fragile that it can be torn asunder that easily has a lot more problems than any one person can solve. They were a mess before us, and angry if people noticed. From your tree research, I reckon a mess for a long time."

Nodding, Regulus crossed his arms and looked back to Sirius with a pressed smile. It was defeating to think that everything he did was only making the larger family situation worse, but he tried to pack away the thought for later. However sharp the sting, he suspected that Sirius was not wrong in his point, either. "I will try."

"They ask you about Bellatrix?" Sirius asked.

Regulus gave pause for a beat before answering. "I suppose they did not ask, per se, though I did mention her in respect to my training. There seemed little point in hiding it when it's rather evident at this point that she is a Death Eater."

"If she gets arrested again," Sirius began, hesitantly, "you may end up being asked about corroborated evidence."

A deeply uncomfortable thought, yet it was surprising, to some extent, that the Aurors had not asked him about Bellatrix. Perhaps they were saving such questions for later - when she was captured, as Sirius was speculating. "That is certainly possible."

"Can you do it?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know," Regulus said, quietly. "I don't think I'll lie about it."

"I think it's something you have to prepare yourself for. You've already lost whatever she was to you." Sirius made a vague dancing movement with his head. "But….if you believe Narcissa still trusts you enough at your word, I have an idea on getting her attention. Unless you want me to butt out."

Regulus frowned slightly. Though he was not completely confident that Narcissa was still willing to take him at his word, that was a hope he was not quite ready to give up on, so he looked at Sirius and responded, "What is your idea?"

"This house is where old junk goes to die," Sirius said, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "Most of them are. My guess is that Narcissa doesn't know Voldemort's background nor identity, and she doesn't have the blinders on that Bellatrix does. Prove it. I have old school pictures, and I bet you do as well, and he was in the same dorm as Uncle Alphard, a year under Mum and Aunt Lucretia, and he would've been Dad's prefect and head boy. He was probably prefect with Aunt Lucretia. If he played quidditch, he'll be in the team pictures. Even if he's scrubbed most mentions of his real name or face out of existence, what's the bet the evidence for it isn't in this house, in my basement, or down in Cornwall?"

Nodding, Regulus ran the options over in his mind. It was not impossible that Narcissa knew and was ignoring it, but he did doubt she knew the details of who was leading them all into ruin - however deceiving that ruin might look. He had considered the option quite some time ago, back when he had first learned who 'Lord Voldemort' really was, but Narcissa and the others had not been particularly receptive… Perhaps he had waited too long, but perhaps he had waited just long enough. Most likely, he would only really know after trying - and either succeeding or failing…

"It's a good idea," Regulus said, with another punctuating nod. "I cannot say for certain if she will listen or act on it, but I suspect I cannot make things too much worse by pointing it out now."

"She doesn't have much in the way of leverage. Her husband, sister, and kid are all involved; she doesn't know enough to hold any of it to them; everyone she knows is blindly devoted to the bastard." Sirius made a 'why not' motion. "Give her something she can weaponise that doesn't cost you anything. See if when she's pushed, she chooses to use it and who she chooses to use it against."

Regulus nodded. "There's a chance of it, at least."

"You never know what someone is capable of if they're pushed hard enough," Sirius said, gesturing towards him. "Case in point."

A little flicker of a wry smile tugged at Regulus's mouth. "There has been no shortage of pushing. I suppose it is high time to share that push."

Behind them, the door opened without much ceremony. When the large, pointed umbrella was whisked away, Emmeline gave them a quick wave hello while she opened and closed the umbrella to get most of the water off. "That was unexpected," she commented, giving the umbrella a more violent shake now it was folded and placing it in the stand. She finally shut the door behind her. "It was sunny when I started unloading earlier. Did it go well?"

"No," Sirius said, tonelessly. "They convicted him then sent him on his way."

"It has some precedent," Emmeline replied.

Regulus pressed his lips to a line, just for a second. "Too true." An uncomfortable point but nonetheless a valid one. "Details are still to come, as I understand it - I believe they are verifying to the degree they can do so - but the decision has shifted away from Azkaban, so that is positive."

"I wanted to pop up and see you after," Emmeline said. "I may still see you there when I'm charged with Sturgis's violent death. He got the pensieve camera working and spent most of the afternoon following me around narrating my unboxing process until I - purely by accident - dropped my bed on his foot."

"That sounds like a completely reasonable response." Regulus nodded. "Pardon - accidental response."

"Do you still want to come over?" Emmeline asked. "I understand if you've had enough stress for one day."

"I don't expect it to be particularly stressful," Regulus responded. "I would still like to come."

"Honestly, we got distracted looking at the old memories. I understand that it doesn't have quite the same nostalgic lens for you, but it might be fun to have a peek behind the old Order curtain." Emmeline looked then at Sirius. "He has some for you and Remus as well, should you want them."

"We will," Sirius nodded. "But give it a bit of time."

"I thought as much," Emmeline said. "But it means we can document the next adventure for posterity and review."

Regulus tried to shake off that heavy, grey feeling that lingered. His own nostalgia felt like a smothering pillow to the face, but Emmeline was a comfort amidst the stress, so he nodded.

"Do you want me to wait for you and side-along?" Emmeline asked. "I need to get these reports sorted out and ready for Dumbledore as it is, but I can linger after or see you there."

"We can side-along," Regulus decided. "I have relayed the pertinent aspects of the appointment today, and I have decided to wait until tomorrow to debrief further with Dedalus and Kingsley, in case there is any progress to report."

"Can I come and find you when I'm done, or do you want to find me when you're ready?" Emmeline asked.

"More than likely, I will just be reading, so you are welcome to find me," Regulus said. "I don't plan to start anything time-consuming."

"You could lose entire days reading," Emmeline replied, pointedly.

"When there isn't a designated, pre-planned interruption," he specified.

"I'm an interruption?" Emmeline asked.

"I'm going to stop you both," Sirius said, putting both palms up. "You, go finish up so you can flirt somewhere that's not got half our dead relatives watching on, let alone me. You, I'm glad you're not in prison, now you just have to try not to die, and you're set."

"I will try not to die," Regulus said, dryly. As he turned toward the staircase, he added to Emmeline, "Interrupt at your earliest convenience - I will be in the study."

---

The pensieve camera was a strange-looking camera, and Regulus thought it a relief, in such company, to not have to pretend it was not a curious contraption.

"So it captures movement over long periods of time, then plays it back?" Regulus clarified as he turned the object over in his hand, though it was not the first time he had asked, given Emmeline's past explanations. Even so, he still found it baffling to think muggles could have managed such a thing without magic, no matter how many times Emmeline insisted.

"Give it a whirl," Sturgis suggested, reaching over to show a button on the side. "Just click that, look through the lens like you would a camera, and you can take about ninety minutes before you have to take out the record. Then you can play it using a box and a television."

"My house warming gift," Emmeline replied, lightly. She gestured to a box with glass in the middle, sitting on top of another plastic box. They'd come through the front door into the open plan living and dining room immediately, but it only had a couple of sofas and a coffee table unpacked. "I haven't decorated since I was twenty-one, and I'm discovering an indecision problem."

"You are not short on decorative decisions, no," Regulus commented, thinking that he had not had to make decisions of that nature in a long time, either - and decor had not been a priority when he had moved to France… if it could be called 'moving to France.'

Clicking the button on the side, Regulus fit his hand into the strap on the top and adjusted his grip as he peered into the lens. Everything narrowed, like being trapped in a box and looking out the end, but he could still see the room clearly. Pointing it first at Emmeline, then to Sturgis, he asked, "How does it remember what it's pointing at?"

"It's just taking a lot of continuous photos, and on the top, it has something that reads and mimics sounds so you can hear them when you play it back." Sturgis tapped on it. "I dunno all that much about the sound, 'cept that it works, but it takes all the photos and plays them like a flipbook drawing, so fast it looks like it's seamless to humans. Not to birds, though. Birds get bored."

"Since none of us are birds," Emmeline said, "is there anything you'd like to document?"

Regulus was unfamiliar with the 'flipbook' example, but he got the general idea of what it must be, so he simply turned the pensieve camera to face Emmeline. "I don't have any particular ideas in mind."

"We could watch some old ones instead," Sturgis suggested. "I've got some funny ones."

"They're only funny because we were there," Emmeline said. "They're not that interesting. We'll make new ones and then watch those."

"What sort of uninteresting things did you record?" Regulus asked.

"We got some test runs on there-" Sturgis started.

"-which just means seeing Benjy and/or Fabian with no hair after a portkey mishap and not terribly interesting to someone who didn't know them-" Emmeline interrupted.

"I've got some of your sit in," Sturgis said.

"Sitting and chanting with a bunch of girls doesn't hold much comedic value either," Emmeline added.

"The time the Knight Bus became a Carol Bus?" he suggested.

"Only if you want to see a tone deaf driver attempt to sing about the feast of Stephen," Emmeline replied. "They're funny because they're nostalgic. You can record other things which we will all find funny later, or if we should all perish horribly, whoever's left can."

Regulus felt a little twinge in his chest at their exchange. His own friends and memories were increasingly tarnished, and he wondered if that mild sting of envy would ever going away, knowing that the people around him could look back on their youthful friendships as a bright spot in a dark war. He used to feel some approximation of that, but their memories carried a deeper shade of misery, the more clear it became that those friendships were probably gone - and the more sharp his adolescence felt. Barty was a husk - had tortured people alongside Bellatrix - and Regulus hated knowing that such was the view everyone else had of him. (Perhaps more, he hated wondering which version had been more true.) He had never been as close to the other boys, with the exception of Evan, but Mulciber was a total loss, Avery was unlikely to feel friendly after Azkaban, and Snape had never been easy to connect with, even less so, now that Regulus had patched things up with Sirius. Perhaps it was the appointment at the Ministry, but their memories felt more miserable than usual.

With a twinge of a different sort, Regulus wondered if perhaps Emmeline suspected that very train of thought - if not consciously, then intuitively. Although it could be the avoidance of some embarrassment, she was not using her huffy, embarrassed tone that she had with the baby pictures plastered at her birthday, so that probably wasn't the primary concern.

Whatever the reason, he decided he might be glad for it. He was glad, too, for the fact that the pensieve camera plastered to his eye was big enough to shroud his expression somewhat and give him something to distract from his sudden discomfort.

"Any suggestions?" he asked.

"My suggestion is that our cameraman take his leave, and we'll arrange a time that requires recognition to come back," Emmeline said, firmly. "I appreciate the gift, and when the situation warrants and it's been a less trying day, let alone week, I look forward to exploration, should you be amenable."

"Is he the cameraman, or am I the cameraman?" Regulus asked.

"You are a man holding a camera," Emmeline said. She then looked to Sturgis. "You know how to use it. You've also been here all day."

"Am I being kicked out?" Sturgis asked.

"Absolutely," Emmeline said. "I moved out to get half an ounce of privacy. Don't third wheel."

"I hope you caught that crabbiness," Sturgis said. "That should definitely be recorded."

Regulus pulled the camera lens away from his eye and found the button that had supposedly made it start working. He pressed that button again, seeing a light go dim, then held out the pensieve camera again. "Until next time."

"You can come look any time you feel like," Sturgis gestured towards Emmeline with his head. "She knows where the workshop is."

"He has a lot of junk," Emmeline added.

" Brilliant junk," Sturgis corrected.

Although Regulus suspected that 'brilliant' could be replaced with 'muggle' without significantly changing the intent of the sentence, this time, the thought did not claw at his insides like he might have expected. In that moment, whether the spiral of guilt was starting to numb or whether he was starting to get used to the muggle items proved difficult to say, but whatever the reason, he was glad for the reprieve.

"There is something to be said for brilliant junk," he said. "I will keep that in mind."

With that, Sturgis bid his goodbyes, and Emmeline seeing him to the door for a few minutes. She returned with an indulgent look. "He's just trying to be friendly. The problem with being an introvert around many extroverts. I'm sure you can relate."

Regulus nodded, wondering if his expression had given away the sting or if she was merely acting on a hunch. "I can relate, yes. I interpreted with friendly intent.

"No one's going to be upset if you say no," Emmeline said. "It's a reasonable answer."

"I was not bothered by the invitation," Regulus said, shaking his head, "but I will decide what to do with it later."

"It wasn't the right time," Emmeline said, gently. "Today had to be difficult."

"To say the least." Picking a spot on the sofa, he sat down and glanced back up in a silent invitation as he added, "Living it was awful, and I can now confirm that recounting to Aurors and a Wizengamot Death Eater is also awful, as expected."

"No one likes to deal with ghosts in public," Emmeline nodded. "Let alone be judged against the person you were as a child. I'm only sorry it's necessary. I'm not interested in a long-distance relationship."

"Nor am I," Regulus agreed, wryly. "Remote island getaways may sound fine in theory, but I rather like where I am right now and would prefer to avoid any drastic relocations."

"I wouldn't be against a holiday when we've double- and triple-checked that he's truly dead and gone this time," Emmeline said, with a shrug. "Besides, remote islands are quite overrated if you're not a big fan of nature. I'm more of a cubby hole person. Perhaps I should've been in Hufflepuff."

His mouth flicked up a little at the corner. "Cubby holes can be nice for reading," he granted. "Assuming they are sufficiently lit. A Ravenclaw-shaped nook."

"I'm going to make this a day room," Emmeline said, gesturing to the large hexagonal windows at the front. "I can hear Moody now - 'those are a hazard, what if someone throws something in' - but the late light of day would feel nice there. I know it's not quite as grand as you're used to, but I think it suits me."

Regulus shook his head. "'Used to' is relative, I suppose. I spent as many years in a small space as a large one, so I don't mind it, per se. More a matter of preference for the history and contents."

"There is no history here yet," Emmeline said, looking around. "I suppose I'll have to work on giving it some character, though I think I'll stay away from the dramatic lighting and gothic overtones. It doesn't suit me as well."

"What manner of decor are you planning to use?"

"I don't know. Wallpapering seems fiddley. What if you overlap?" Emmeline shrugged. "I was built for uncovering the secrets of magic, not figuring out what colour goes best with what. I'd ask Dedalus, but everything would end up with bright and welcoming. I don't always want to seem welcoming. Sometimes, you want people to go away quickly - present company excluded."

Wry amusement tugged t his mouth. "I can wholeheartedly relate to that sentiment - from the limited gift for colour coordination theory to the limited social preferences."

"You didn't receive the decorating gene?" Emmeline asked. "But the house is such a...cohesive theme. Is none of it you?"

"Generally speaking, the decor has been consistent, with the exception of removing the elf heads that were on the staircase," Regulus admitted. "I have not put much effort into adding more since returning."

"You've had other concerns," Emmeline pointed out. "I have other concerns, largely that I'll end up having to box everything up again in a month or two."

"I am still willing to help with additional wards and security charms, should you want them," he said with a nod. "Hopefully another move can be avoided for a while."

"I will want them," Emmeline said, looking around. "But after some research for the most appropriate ones. Particularly if we decide to do something publicly, which will alter danger in a more civilian way and would need to be accounted for."

"There are no shortage of offenses, as it is. I'm sure we can manage a variety of protections."

"I don't think of them as offenses, but if that's what floats your broom, you feel free." Emmeline sat back on the sofa, sinking in with a content noise. "So would you prefer to be distracted, or do you want to talk about what happened today?"

Pensively, Regulus pressed his lips together in thought. On the one hand, he would rather spare her the details - and on the other, he did not particularly want to risk her hearing about them elsewhere. Already, he felt loaded with guilt, though perhaps the truth could not come as too much of a surprise, given that she had scarcely batted an eye at him being a Death Eater, even at the start.

"If it is something for which you desire greater detail, I am willing to expand while I already feel miserable, but if not, a distraction is ideal," he decided.

"I don't want my curiosity to be a source of more misery," Emmeline said, firmly. "I can keep it in check if you'd like to come and tell me that a skylight in my dining room is irresponsible and should not be attempted."

With a light, flicking smile, Regulus shifted forward on the sofa. "Let's go look at this potential skylight, then."

---

The drawing room fireplace gave of a soft, warm glow, punctuated by its familiar crackle. Held in front of Regulus was a book - fiction, this time, to better unwind - but even as the night hours weighed on his eyelids, he did not feel quite ready to leave the fire. The house was a soft sort of quiet, tugging at his chest, but he could not pinpoint which part of this exhaustingly long week was the culprit.

Behind him, he heard a soft creak. Emmeline was now settled elsewhere - an absence he felt keenly - but Kreacher was always about, and it was not quite midnight, meaning his brother was unlikely to be asleep yet. Sirius was slowly starting to recover from the Halloween funk, but they had not quite settled into their normal routine yet. Perhaps some of that was Regulus's fault, as well, he privately admitted, but everyone in the house had seemed to be in a foul mood, so it was not just him, at least.

Twisting around to check the doorway, Regulus was opening his mouth to speak when-

"Crucio!"

All at once, Regulus felt his nerves tearing apart, flooding every centimeter of his frame with white-hot pain. For a harrowing moment, he could not tell if he was screaming aloud or simply in his head, but he clamped his jaw tight and tensed every muscle into a curl against the back of his chair, forehead digging into the wooden trim. Jamming his forearm up between his mouth and the chair like a muzzle, he could already feel it trying to jerk away again of its own accord, but just as he felt another scream start to bubble to the surface, the curse lifted.

(For a moment, Regulus thought he might have screamed anyway, but fuzzy though he felt, he was pretty certain it was his mother's portrait downstairs, not himself…)

"'You must decline'?"

His cousin's tone was as irate as it was mocking, and he knew he should get into a defensible position immediately, but his hand was a little shaky, even as he fumbled for his wand. She must not have been very worried about the move because she continued:

"You did not deserve this opportunity, yet I handed it to you on a silver platter. Any other traitor would be dead by now." She raised her wand again, but Regulus met the red beam with a silent, sweeping Protego as he stumbled backwards out of his chair.

It was then that he noticed a page crumpled in his hand - from the book he had been flipping through, no doubt, but he had no time to think about it before she was slinging another spell at him. Again, Regulus lifted a shield charm as he darted a little clumsily to the side, but he couldn't quite get his legs to steady.

"No fight in you this time?" she said harshly as he cast another shield, deflecting a gold bolt of a spell this time.

"Bella-"

"I don't want to hear it!" she cut off. "You were a pathetic excuse for a Death Eater then, and you are a pathetic excuse for a . I stuck my neck out-"

There was a startled noise from her throat, as a sudden mass of black pushed her forward. At some point, Sirius must have changed into his animagus form and charged from behind, given that he currently had his teeth piercing Bellatrix's shoulder and pulling hard against it.

"GET - OFF OF ME!" she shrieked, grabbing at the scruff of the huge dog's neck, her wand sticking out from the fur and fingers haphazardly, but with her other hand, she reached into her robes and pull something out. Regulus saw the glint as it caught the light of the fireplace, and panic immediately rose in his throat.

"Accio knife!" Regulus yelled a little too loud with a sweep of his wand as Bellatrix was jamming the blade into the thick fur of the dog's back leg.

Regulus couldn't tell if it had connected - or how severely - but his chest was thundering wildly as he grasped at the flying the handle with his off hand. Bellatrix looked at him with fury in her eyes and seemed to be trying to untangle herself from the massive dog - probably to shoot a better aim spell in his direction - but all it seemed to be doing was smearing blood.

Finally, the dog moved off of her with a yelp, clawing at the floor of the drawing room for a frantic moment then lunging behind one of the nearby chairs. There was blood dripped along the carpet, but it wasn't easy to tell whose it was. There was a quick pop noise that tended to happen when Sirius shifted back.

"When someone gives you a distraction, use it!" Sirius called, gruffly.

"If you both want to play, I suppose I can oblige!" Bellatrix was calling out as she sent a blasting curse squarely at Regulus, who barely dropped to the floor in time for it to instead crash into the wall behind him.

Another curse sliced through the sofa he crawled behind, catching his arm, but he was unable to even feel embarrassed by the scramble with all the adrenaline pumping in his ears. He dared a look to the doorway, where Kreacher was staring in horror, and a fresh wave of panic rolled over him. If Bellatrix turned to see him - if she wanted to land just any target-

Lunging again, this time behind the same chair as Sirius, he saw that the knife must have got him, after all. Guilt was already rolling in his stomach, but he didn't respond to his brother's remark, instead grabbing Sirius by the shirt, sticking his head out from behind the chair, and making eye contact with the house-elf as he shouted: "Kreacher!"

Without further instruction, Kreacher apparated across the drawing room to where they were huddled, grabbed Regulus's arm, and with a telltale crack, the three disappeared at once.

The room was dark and the floor was hard, where they landed, but Regulus did not pause to look around as he shifted, wincing at the weight on his arm. He wanted to curl up, to get the ghost of the Cruciatus off of his skin and his nerves and his bones. Sirius was bleeding, so he tried to focus on that. "Your leg."

"It's fine," Sirius gritted out through his teeth, trying to reposition himself on the floor. He pulled the clothes aside to get a better look at it, then he winced as his hands came away stained red. He pressed his hand behind his knee. "It'll hurt like hell when this adrenaline wears off, but it's too slow...and I haven't puked up...so it's probably not lethal. Why does it smell like Mum's closet in here?"

Regulus glanced around, heart still hammering as it dawned on him where they were.

"Great Aunt Lycoris… Kreacher and I came here, after the cave - with the inferi," he said - an automatic association on Kreacher's part, perhaps - before pushing past the thought.

"Alright," Sirius said. He glanced around the room, then tried to stand back up. He made a strangled noise, then sat down again.

"Don't stand on it," Regulus said, holding his hand by his brother's shoulder to block further attempts. Twisting slightly to see Kreacher, he tried to focus thrumming thoughts long enough to deal with the situation at hand. Bind it… there were unlikely to be any healing potions after so many years away, but even a stopper ought to help... "Kreacher, fetch a clean cloth."

Sirius shrugged in apparent acceptance. "Is the floo still connected?"

Back to Sirius again: "I am not aware of it being specifically disconnected, so I can try. Were you thinking to contact the Order?" Regulus asked. A patronus would be easiest, but Regulus was having difficulty concentrating on a happy memory, so he imagined Sirius must be too.

Sirius shook his head. "Andromeda. Tonks can send out an alert, and Andromeda'll have the good painkiller potions and the next best wards."

With a nod, Regulus went over to the fireplace, peeking into the small black jar on the mantle. He was halfway surprised to find that there was still floor powder in the jar when no one had lived in this house since he was four years old. In that moment, he found himself wondering for the first time if floo powder could deteriorate - he had never kept a stagnant supply for that period of time before - but he suspected it was probably fine...

When the fire call was set and connected to Andromeda's house, he steeled himself for the late night greeting and hoped that she would hear…

"Andromeda?" he said into the fire, eyeing his view of her darkened front room.

"Close," and if it didn't immediately sound like Tonks, the sound of a screeching chair and bump would have given it away. The lights went on immediately after, bringing her into view. "She's an old lady. She's in bed by midnight."

"We're having a bit of a situation," Regulus started, grimly, trying to steady his tone as his cousin's face and slinging wand flashed angrily in his mind. "Bellatrix let herself into the house and was not in a particularly friendly mood - most notably, she landed a knife in Sirius's leg. If you could direct your mother toward our late Aunt Lycoris's house and pass the word along to the appropriate parties, we would be much obliged."

Tonks swore loudly.

"Nymphadora! Andromeda's voice rang with exasperation. She must not have been sleeping too heavily. "If you're going to be loud and belligerent, can you please do it elsewhere?"

"I have a good reason, I swear," Tonks said. "I got to go sound the alarm. Bellatrix Lestrange just attacked Grimmauld Place, and we've got injuries."

"Where is-"

"At your Aunt Licorice's house," Tonks said. "Stab wound. Dunno what else-"

"Yes," Andromeda finally came into view in her dressing coat. "Go, but be very careful."

"There aren't any potions here I would trust, so if you could bring the necessities, I'm going to disconnect for the moment," Regulus piped back in, and when Andromeda confirmed, he stepped back from the fireplace. Neither Sirius not Kreacher looked particularly pleased, but the latter was back with the clean cloths, so that was something.

Grumpily, Sirius took one of the cloths and placed it on himself with a hiss. "Do you want to sit down or something? You look worse than I do, and I don't even know Bellatrix doesn't curse her silverware."

"I'm fine," Regulus was muttering as he took a seat next to Sirius with a deepening frown. After just a beat, he shook his head. "Fine is not the word - but I wasn't stabbed with a knife, much less a questionable one, so there is that…" he added, rubbing a hand over his face and trying to relax that underlying rattle in his head.

"Are you just taking up screaming for fun as a hobby in your later years then?" Sirius asked, without looking up. "Mum seemed to like it."

"I'm trying not to think about that right now," Regulus said into his hand.

"Suit yourself, but don't fret about me." Sirius said, shifting uncomfortably. "I've gotten worse from Remus having a bad time of the month, and if you're willing to sit in a decade of a grime, you're definitely in a worse state. "

Regulus took in another deep breath, then let it out slowly. The stillness and silence gave way to his own thoughts, but Regulus did not particularly like those thoughts, at the moment.

There was a sudden whoosh of the floo, then Andromeda stepped out. She'd obviously put on a coat over her house coat but looked around the place with a critical eye. "I don't know what it says that I remember where this place is," Andromeda muttered as she cast to brighten the room more. "Alright, let me see if I need qualified reinforcements."

She took what looked like a towel down and placed it on the floor, kneeling on it. "You're not as pale as I feared, but blood replenishing regardless because it's still more than I'd like. This'll sting for a moment, then it'll go numb, but let me splint and wrap it before you try getting up. You," she pointed to Regulus, "Stay put, I'm not convinced you're not hiding something."

Regulus pressed his lips to a flat line but nodded in acknowledgement, sitting still in place as she set to work on Sirius's leg.

"Does anyone want to explain what happened?" Andromeda added, placing salve to rag and rag to wound.

"Avery was at his 'agreement' hearing," Sirius said, wincing. "I don't think Bellatrix liked what he had to say."

Silently, Regulus thought that Bellatrix was probably angry with him for more than just the hearing. ('You must decline' - she had certainly received the owl.) Regulus had yet to tell anyone but Dedalus about the meeting, though Halloween had come and gone - his brother's birthday had come and gone - and he doubted Sirius was going to become less irritated, should more time pass. Even so, Andromeda was probably going to agree that it had been stupid to go, and he did not particularly want to be outnumbered, either, so he watched the floor.

"I suppose Bellatrix wanted to lay claim to the house sooner or later. Chin up," Andromeda glanced at him briefly, as she was applying the dressing. "You always seem to look as if you think I'm about to shout at you. I'm not that scary, am I?"

Regulus shook his head. "It's not you. Rather, we seem to meet on days that are abnormally miserable," he said, sincerely, though it was probably his silence-born guilt that she was picking up on, more than anything. Stiffly, he added, "I don't intend to give her the house, but that can wait."

"Alright, no putting the full weight on that. Even if you can't feel it, the damage remains," Andromeda said, leaning back and using the side of the chair to stand. "I very much doubt she left you unscathed. You're not slowly fading away, are you?"

"Nothing permanent." His eldest cousin's curdling Cruciatus rang in his head again, tensing his frame against the memory, but the explanation got stuck in his throat. Instead, he shifted his focus to his arm, which had caught a slicing hex and since reddened the back of his sleeve.

"Anything I can do anything about?" Andromeda clarified. "I'm afraid I can do nothing about metaphorical stabbings in the back."

"This one isn't a stab, but it isn't metaphorical either," he said, lifting his arm to show her.

"A little murtlap ought to set that to rights," Andromeda said, reaching back into her bag for a small mason jar. "I went through a lot of jars of the stuff while Nymphadora was growing up, so I always have it on hand."

Regulus nodded and shifted to better reach the cut. He only let a few beats of silence pass, and though he suspected that he knew the answer, he nonetheless asked, "Did she ever attack you, personally, before she was captured?"

"Bellatrix?" Andromeda almost sounded amused, if a little darkly so. "Of course, although I can't be sure how much of that was related to her delving into the Death Eaters and how much of it was merely familial rage. Lean on the arm! Do you need a crutch, or can you be sensible?"

"Rarely," Sirius replied, the eyeroll evident in his tone. She handed him a potion, which he downed with a wince. "If ever."

Andromeda huffed. "Do you see, with Bellatrix, part of the problem is that she does not play by the societal rule of ignoring the 'traitorous', if we must call it that. You will find that most will deny all relation to a disowned person, and Bellatrix, much to my eternal annoyance, still calls me her younger sister, and to date, has never been lethal towards me personally. She talks a big game of it, has threatened many times, and had even had the opportunity, but always goes for pain over permanence. Much worse, she is lethal towards my daughter and my husband. Arguably much worse than a Killing Curse."

"It is," Regulus agreed firmly, thinking it fortunate that Bellatrix was unlikely to know Emmeline in connection to himself, if only for that point. "She probably wants to kill me for a different set of reasons, but she does take her time with it."

"What she wants and whether she will do so are two different things," Andromeda replied, pinching the top of her nose for a brief moment. "She's a headache, but do correct me if I'm wrong, we still have a pureblood privilege, so to speak, in that there are so few left who have not put together that a lack of genetic diversity leads to mental and physical problems down the line that it is quite rare for a Death Eater to outright kill one."

"They've done the fate worse than death," Sirius said. "Frank and Alice."

"Yes, a relentless quest for answers they did not have." Andromeda sighed. "But aside from that - even you, have you ever seen the Killing Curse come from her?"

"Someone did in the Department of Mysteries," Sirius argued.

"But you don't know who, and many Death Eaters were present," Andromeda said.

"Lucius did pop up right after," Sirius replied. "So what?"

"I say it's not in excuse, there is no excusing such behaviour, but simply to point out she is attempting to build a world enforcing rules she cannot keep to herself," Andromeda replied. "It is the height of hypocrisy, but does give some strategic advantage."

"As far as Unforgivables go, she certainly prefers the Cruciatus, but I've seen her cast the Killing Curse," Regulus responded, when Andromeda had finished her thought. "Not directed towards myself or another pureblood, but the number of pureblood adversaries was admittedly limited at the time. Perhaps blood still matters to her on some deeper level, or perhaps it does not, but such things are meaningless to the Dark Lord, whatever he might claim, and that is no small factor. I think I have offended her quite thoroughly, beyond the ongoing familial split…" He shook his head. "But of course, any possible advantage is worth considering."

"That's why the curiosity struck me," Andromeda said. "She doesn't have a problem using it otherwise. However, it could simply be that she enjoys the sadistic aspects. I don't invite her over, so since I was nineteen, it has been a limited experience."

"What a surprise," Regulus remarked, applying some of the murtlap to his clean off arm.

"I assume you're not staying here," Andromeda said. "I doubt any property can be considered safe, if she employs some critical thinking."

"I suspect not." However well it might have worked when first he had left home, there had been little reason for them to thoroughly check the properties right away. This time, Bellatrix was likely to be more motivated about determining where they went. He flicked his eyes over to Sirius, wondering if he had a better idea about the state of the alternative safe houses.

"We've got a back up," Sirius said, though he didn't sound fully sure. "But we need a regroup quickly. Someone will send word when they're ready, and given that school's in session, it'll probably be the Hog's Head."

"Do not drink with that," Andromeda warned.

"I know, it's not my first stabbing," Sirius groaned.

Regulus did not particularly wish to see people at the moment - just the thought was exhausting - but he supposed a regroup was important, all things considered, so he nodded.

"Then Nymphadora can catch you both up when it's done," Andromeda said sweetly. "You're both coming back with me, getting fluid in you, and sleeping for a while. Aunt Lycoris looks better than both of you, and she has been dead for thirty years."

"That's not a very polite thing to say," Regulus responded, if with little conviction.

"On occasion, it is better not to be polite and to be honest instead," Andromeda replied plainly. "You're not going to kill each other if you have to share the room, are you?"

"What am I going to do, limp him to death?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, don't moan, you're a grown man" Andromeda replied, before looking towards the house-elf. "I rather think he won't like it, and though I'll extend the same courtesy, he may be safer with his Hogwarts brethren."

Regulus did not much like the idea of sending Kreacher off to Hogwarts, even if there was an element of distance, protection, and obscurity to roaming with the elves. His manner would stand out immediately - and if he caught wind of Draco's presence… Of course, Kreacher was bound to dislike any time spent at Andromeda's, too, but-

"She would separate Kreacher from Master Regulus… send Kreacher away…" the elf was muttering sourly as he hovered the used cloth into a metal pail, not looking very impressed with the suggestion (or perhaps with Andromeda, though it was difficult to determine for certain)..

"I will plan to keep Kreacher with me, for the moment, but will take the suggestion into consideration," Regulus decided, looking back to Andromeda.

"As you wish," Andromeda replied. "As long as he's comfortable. Sirius?"

"He hasn't tried to kill me yet," Sirius said, leaning against the chair. "No guarantees."

Regulus doubted there was a feasible option in which Kreacher would be comfortable, but he opted not to press the point with Andromeda. Given the circumstances, they were all bound to be uncomfortable, for the moment.

---

Andromeda's spare room was too small for two people. The entire house was entirely too small for three people, if you asked Sirius, because he could whack his head against the beams if he wasn't careful, but the sloped ceiling and one small window did nothing for the cramped feeling. The double bed had been pushed right up against the far wall, with the cot bed pulled out and squashed next to it. There was only a shin's width to shimmy over to the double bed, but Sirius had insisted his brother take it. He knew his own sleeping habits well enough to know he had a tendency to wander, and putting him nearest the door meant no trying to climb over him with a busted leg.

Tonks had scarpered by the time they got there, so Sirius resigned himself to being stuck till the morning. He could have headed out anyway, but he was wary of splinching his leg, and doubtless, Remus would be along in the morning. Losing headquarters was a blow, but he couldn't deny being a little pleased not to currently be stuck in Grimmauld Place. He'd have to write to Harry, or get someone to pass along the message. He pulled his boots off the moment Andromeda deemed the room overnight-worthy, and however much he wanted to be in the thick of it, he couldn't deny how nice the cushions felt.

Kreacher was mumbling in the corner but seemed to be settling, and Regulus was perched in the bed, back flush against the wall. He might have looked ready to crash, if not for the concentrated stare he had been giving the blanket pattern for the last few minutes, but this time, he broke his own silence.

"I'm sorry you got mixed in all of that," Regulus began with a frown. "I'm the one she was angry with."

Sirius looked at him blankly. No matter how old he got, Regulus always tried to apologise for everyone else's behaviour. Strangely enough, he was usually recalcitrant when he had actually done something wrong and would rationalise it all day long, but everything that wasn't his fault, he'd trip over himself trying to take responsibility.

"For someone so damn smart, you can so thick," Sirius said, when he at last found his voice in the face of staggering disbelief at that of all things. "I did not get 'mixed up' in anything. That sounds like I stumbled into a backstreet brawl and decided to go in fists flying. I don't give two shits who she's angry with; she's the one who came in and attacked my brother, of course I'm going to jump in. Do not try and take responsibility for her."

"I don't mean that it wasn't her fault - attacking us in our house in the middle of the night is definitively her fault," Regulus clarified, though he still looked troubled about it. "It's just that aggravating her puts you in danger too, and you don't even like it there. I have been exceptionally aggravating."

"It doesn't matter how aggravating you were being," Sirius scoffed. If anything was aggravating, it was the apologising. Or the 'our house' remark, but he'd come back to that when he had the strength to have that argument again. "If she's under the mistaken impression she can waltz in and you'll turn into a blubbering mess, I'm happy for you to set her straight. The more aggravating, the better. If she's angry, you're doing something right. Don't get pissy with me for intervening. I'm allowed to have your back."

"It's not that either," Regulus began, looking for a moment like he was going to retreat under the covers in a huff, but instead, he had the huff above the covers and continued. "You are making this very difficult. You told me that you want me to tell you things, and I am trying to apologise for not doing so in a timely manner, so can you just let me so that we can move on and be done with this day?"

Something akin to warning bells rang out. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Regulus frowned, quieting again for a beat before answering. "I suspect she is angry about more than just secondhand information from Avery because... she contacted me recently - offering terms for them to leave me alone, I suppose is a way to think of it. I have since sent a letter to decline, and I do not think it is what she wanted to hear."

Terms? What the hell did that mean? "Define recently."

"Last week," Regulus answered, though it was closer to a mumble.

Sirius clenched his jaw and tried not to think about the fact that he'd been mucking about for the last week when they had a real crisis to deal with. Or the fact that once again - again - he's the last to know. Did that mean Regulus not only had the gall to be in contact with Bellatrix - knowing what she's capable of and knowing what she was likely to do - but he had more than a vague notion of where she was and said nothing? Did he not realise this wasn't some idiotic game of hide and seek he was playing with his oldest cousin, but rather, a woman responsible for the misery of others in such a profound way that leaving her running around was gross sentimentalism at best and irresponsible at worst? It was at times like this that Sirius really wanted to thump him and see if his brain would come back into function with a good shake.

"Come over here," Sirius said.

Regulus eyed him. "Why?"

"Because I want to smack some sense into you, and I'm going to wreck the bandage if I have to climb over there," Sirius grumbled. Had they not had this exact discussion recently, as well? No wonder he was feeling guilty. He had been obnoxious about telling him the most inconsequential of things but Bellatrix he clams up on?

"I suspected as much. I will stay over here," Regulus said, sinking down just slightly. "I was going to say something, but you were dealing with… a lot, as it was, and then I did not want to spoil your birthday yesterday… but today felt miserable enough that I did not want to make you angry, too, so I thought I might say it tomorrow… As things are, tomorrow will probably also feel miserable, so…" He shook his head.

There was always something, did Regulus not understand that? You had to grab every moment, be upfront, and let the other shoe drop when it needed to. Otherwise, someone having your back wouldn't know when your back needs guarding. Especially if he was going to do things as stupid as talk to her Sirius was trying to protect him, did Regulus not understand that? Or was he again just assuming because Sirius had been wrapped up in his own grief, everything of his would have to wait? Even now, did he not understand what his value was? Worse, did he imagine Sirius was going to scream bloody murder at him for being contacted? He might over him talking back.

"I'm not angry," Sirius argued. "My birthday got wrecked twenty years ago, through no fault of yours. I just want you to stop treating yourself like you're a burden I'm stuck with so you don't want to trouble me. Last year had mitigating circumstances. I'm not going to lose it with you every time."

"I kept thinking about saying something, but…" He shook his head. "But I did not… so I apologise. It was terrible timing - absolutely abysmal."

"It was purposeful timing," Sirius said. He could feel the fuzziness of sleep beginning its pull, despite the fresh wave of irritation. Of course Bellatrix would know he'd be distracted now. He felt stupid for not realising it before.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," Sirius said, bluntly. It wasn't going to be a fun thing to raise to the Order, so despite the feeling of uselessness that was accompanying sleeping while shit was going down, he felt a little grateful he wouldn't have to deal with it tonight. "Go to sleep."

Regulus pressed his lips to a thin line, nodding silently as he slid did onto his back.

That was the kicked dog look, wasn't it? Why was it never easy? "I'm not being moody with you," Sirius added, shifting to try and find a position that was comfortable with a dead leg that wouldn't leave him aching in the morning. He was a little moody about it, but more so of the lack of common sense and that he'd promised to talk to him about this stuff. "It was reckless and irresponsible and probably exactly what I'd do, but it's been a shit day and maybe cooler heads will help after twenty winks, if not forty."

"She knows who killed our father," Regulus said suddenly, looking up at the ceiling. "Or at least she claims to."

Sirius stilled again. "Aurors have a shortlist. Ask one of them." That wasn't the same as a definitive answer, but Sirius could see the manipulation attempt a mile away. He suspected then, with a drop of fear that he severely disliked, that Regulus had at least considered it. She always knew just where to dig the knife in. "No more secret correspondence."

"I know. I'm not planning on it," Regulus said with a heavy exhale. "It just makes me angry to think that she could know and prefer to dangle that when he was her family too…"

He had to get his thick head around the fact that she just didn't care, if she ever had, or he was going to get himself killed. "If she ever had any family loyalty, it's been dead for years."

Regulus shook his head. "I know she has other priorities, but I don't understand how she could not be at least... offended by it. If not upset, then offended." Crinkling his expression slightly, he added, "Of course, she might've been offended and dealt with the situation already, and she merely intended to say as much… or she might not know at all - might not care at all - might assume I wouldn't do anything about it, regardless, or at least nothing more than is done to any other Death Eater at present… I've turned over any number of possibilities, and it's aggravating, whatever the reason."

"She doesn't have other priorities; you're either useful to her or you're not," Sirius couldn't keep the snappish tone from his voice now. This hanging on had gone on too long. "She didn't lose anything she could use when he died. Worse, he was clearly more neutral than not if he didn't want to be involved, and she has no patience for neutrality, does she? Blood means little when you consider what she did to Frank and Alice not two years later for no reason beyond her own idiot belief that Voldemort couldn't be defeated."

"That belief is another issue entirely," Regulus said, heavily. "But I preferred to think that she used to care about some aspect of it all - even partially - yet even if she did, I suppose it does not change much about the present."

"But it's not!" With a frustrated noise, Sirius swung his legs back around so he was sitting facing the other bed. He needed to convey this and actually be heard, not just rationalised out. "Listen to me, will you? She freely gave her loyalty to him for what, exactly - the prestige that comes with being a favourite lackey? The chance to kill muggles and muggleborns, to torture at will and get a pat on the back for it? I don't know what's wrong with her, but I do know this: even then, the only time she took notice of you was when you stopped acting like Dad and decided you wanted to hop onto her path, instead of his."

For a beat, Regulus held his frown before responding. "I realise that. Trust me, I noticed the point that she started paying attention. It was the 'cannot be defeated' part that I expect she is seeing from a markedly different perspective than you are."

"I was talking about what happened with Harry," Sirius said. He was a little surprised there was no fight on that. Bellatrix was still technically 'family' for Regulus, and he expected some claptrap about how everyone is capable of change, but maybe he wasn't in as bad a shape as Sirius had feared then.

For a moment, Regulus just looked at him, then shifted to sit up a little straighter. "Would you rather know something and hold yourself to a standard of discretion, or would you prefer to avoid secrets altogether? I know they can be an uncomfortable subject."

If he shook his brother upside down, would a hundred more secrets just fall out of his pocket? At this point, he would rather know than get blindsided again. He was sick to death of secrets and the way they tended to screw up his life. "Secrets are not an uncomfortable subject," Sirius replied, as firmly as he could. "The belief that I'm incapable of keeping them is."

"My question still stands," Regulus said, though his expression was more searching than impatient. "I trust you, but it's very important, so I would like to clarify that you are committed to keeping it secret, even if it's from most members of the Order."

That meant Vance knew, didn't it? He couldn't not know now, even if he wanted to say later or leave it to when he could think more. "I'm prepared for that."

Regulus nodded slightly. "Then I will take this opportunity to specify that, although I know you were referring to the Dark Lord's fall, I have reason to think her conviction about his immortality might be based in more than just fanaticism," he began carefully. "I cannot confirm what she does or does not know, but… I know for a fact that he is using dark magic to overcome death, which is what allowed for his recent resurrection."

Sirius knew from Harry's accounts that he had floated about, taking possession of others in a state that wasn't life but wasn't a ghost either. It was no big surprise that he'd used the dark arts in a way he didn't understand and ended up with some sort of cursed, half-life for his trouble. "As in the part of him that possessed people?"

"In a sense," Regulus said. "He has… split his soul and anchored the fragments. I believe the diary that possessed Ginny Weasley was one of them, but they don't all seem to use possession." With a steadying exhale, he continued, "I discovered what he was doing when he tried to sacrifice Kreacher in order to hide one. I was told nothing, so I do not know how upfront he has been with other Death Eaters… but I researched until something made sense, and I am confident that it was the correct conclusion."

Soul-splitting. Just when he thought he could get his head around the monstrosity of Voldemort, he uncovered something else. It did shed some light on Regulus's insane protectiveness for that elf, if nothing else. Only Regulus could be convinced of the inherent evil of Death Eaters by someone deciding to off Kreacher. "So what you're saying is Voldemort decided to conceal his attempts at mortality by making a scavenger hunt for himself, but you stumbled on a clue?"

"Essentially," Regulus responded. "One of them was hidden in the cave - that is what I took when I left... I found no indication that more could be created, so when I destroyed it, I thought it was the only one. Suffice to say his return was a very unpleasant indication that there were more to deal with."

"That's was what that was?" It was a ballsy move, if nothing else, but also incredibly risky. He wasn't sure whether to feel angry all over again that Regulus had not just come to him if he knew about the danger or impressed that he managed it at all. It gave, if little else, some sense to the reasons he'd left finally. If someone had read him, they'd have known what he did. It explained the inferi. It explained why Voldemort would just not stay down. He was using anchors to this plane of existence.

Again, Regulus nodded. "Fortunately, I don't think he has noticed. Tampering with his plans for immortality seems like the sort of thing he is likely to be particularly angry about... I was nervous that he might put it together, given the timing of my departure and return, but perhaps he just has confidence in his hiding places."

"Or he just figured no one else is that crazy about a house-elf," Sirius suggested. Even Sirius himself thought the attachment was bloody peculiar, but useful, he supposed.

"It's not a matter of being 'crazy' - I wasn't going to let Kreacher die, especially not for something I volunteered him for...But I have thought from the start that he failed to consider house-elf magic," Regulus commented with a little nod, "so I suspect he misestimated other elements, as well."

"If he thinks other magical people are beneath him, can't be surprised he thinks even less of magical creatures." Something in Sirius's mind clicked into place. Anchoring - as in parts of himself - had been encountered before. His heart suddenly kicked up with adrenaline. "Is that what you asked Harry to be on the lookout for, since he found that diary?"

Regulus nodded slightly. "Nothing dangerous - just looking out for any information related to the founders, be it books, portraits, ghosts, things of that nature," he specified. "The first one I stole was contained within Salazar Slytherin's locket. Perhaps it was only due to the Slytherin connection, but Emmeline and I are hypothesizing seven of them, so there are a few left unaccounted for, at present."

"Because if there's more than three, then seven is the next powerful number." Not that he was going to fault swotty logic, even if a (perhaps) unfair part of him was annoyed Emmeline had known first. Their relationship was newer, but he thought grimly that it had none of the trappings that he and his brother had from their past. He tried not to feel a sense of betrayal, regardless; she was his friend first, but it just reminded him that he hadn't pushed. He'd waited for Regulus to be ready, even if he'd wanted him to be ready months ago. Maybe it was only after these attack experiences they could speak more openly, which likely left plenty of opportunity for it, the way things were going.

"Precisely. Three have been destroyed so far - the locket, the diary, and a Gaunt family ring - but I don't quite feel settled into the assumption that it is all of them. Technically, his present existence increases the total number to four."We are following any lead we can think of, but it is slow-going, without any means of certainty. Worth the effort, but slow."

"Does his existence count?" Sirius pondered aloud. If Bellatrix did know this, no wonder she was being so damn cocky. It's not a needle in a haystack, it's a needle in the country the haystack is in. "Or...when he was resurrected, did he sacrifice an existing one that wasn't accounted for, which would bring it to either four or a previous five."

"Unfortunately, that is one of the things I am not certain about," Regulus admitted. "I have found no more than a page dedicated to this particular piece of magic, between only two texts… one of which only mentioned it in order to say that it was not going to talk about it. The majority of our conclusions are guesswork based on what we can logically deduce, but there is little to confirm it." His tone sounded a little flat, at that, but he continued, "Nonetheless, my guess is that his… existence does count as part of the number he is considering, to make the total at seven, but it's hard to say how he is thinking about it. For that matter, there's no way to be certain if he managed to finish before he was first defeated - but I suppose he has had time to do so now, if not then."

"But he could theoretically also replace them if some are destroyed," Sirius said, as he tried to will himself to be more awake for this. This was magic deconstruction; he was good at it. Less so when dulled by potions and an itch from a wound, but good nonetheless. "Wait, so, you are the biggest swot this side of Hogwarts. If you're working with limited information, where did he get his? That diary was a teenager, which means it can't have been when he buggered off round Europe. He has to have had another source."

"One of the texts explained the general process of how to make one, and I found it in the Lestrange library. If he was friends with Alcander Lestrange, it's possible that he got his information from the same place," Regulus mused. "And I did wonder about replacing them, but it destabilises the soul, so the risk of splitting it further is probably very high. That does not mean he would not do so, but I don't think he realises there are any beyond the diary that require replacing."

A terrible thought struck him. Didn't Harry have a letter for Regulus that Sirius had just left sitting in the house? It was unlikely Bellatrix in a rage would wander about reading correspondance, but it'd been too hectic to deal with it for the last day or two. "We might have a problem then," Sirius said. "Because Harry wrote to you, and I left it sitting in the downstairs dining room."

Regulus shook his head slightly. "I picked it up last night when we were done talking. It ought to be tucked away in my room, so it is less likely to be accidentally found unless she is very specifically looking through my things." He tipped his head slightly. "Which remains a potential problem, but less visible, nonetheless."

"She could just burn it down in a fit of rage," Sirius suggested, trying to keep the note of hopefulness out of his voice.

With a flat expression, Regulus responded, "That is not helping."

"Do you want help or were just notifying me?" Sirius asked, because it seemed a hell of a lot more like the second one. Of course Sirius wanted to help, but was this just him saying what he was doing, or was it some veiled way of asking to help that didn't make it seem like he actually wanted it and thus wouldn't be put out if he didn't offer? Sirius desperately wanted Tonks to return, or Remus to show up, not just because he was desperate for news but because interactions with Slytherins were no easier when you actually cared about them and couldn't just hex them for being complicated twats.

"At this point, it is primarily combing through texts until we find something to hunt down and investigate more closely… Do you actually want to do that?" Regulus asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"No," Sirius admitted. He didn't particularly. It was just an uncomfortably familiar feeling that his brother had gotten involved in something that was important to Sirius himself, and seemed to be doing a better job of it. He could research if it came down to it, he'd done it before, but it was bordering on ritualistic for the rebellion, and he had no part of that. It was more Remus's domain than his own. It didn't mean he didn't want to do something if that was being offered. "It just explains a lot."

"I imagine it would." Regulus dipped his chin with a little nod. "At present, the informed Order consists of myself, Emmeline, and Dumbledore, as well as you, now. I provided some context to Harry because of his frequency of contact - some of which he had already pieced together - but no actionable information."

Sirius had meant more that he'd been sneaking about with Harry, and Harry (who was naturally suspicious) hadn't said anything. It also explained why he had such an interest in talking to Ginny. "So that means Ron and Hermione know," Sirius concluded. They were deeply close, weren't they? Besides, if it was more about research than anything else, Hermione Granger seemed the perfect person to involve. Harry had inherited his father's attention span when it came to all things academic.

Regulus flattened his mouth a little at the point.

"Aw, you're vexed," Sirius said, shifting to lay down again. He could no longer see his brother's face, but he could guess. By way of potions or simply because of how terrible the subject matter was, there was something distinctly funny at watching him threatening to go into a pout. "Some things never change."

"I hope you will apply a more strict definition of 'secrecy,' given how vital and potentially dangerous it is," Regulus said a bit more stiffly.

"You let something slip once at fifteen, and no one ever lets you forget it," Sirius grumbled. He had kept a hundred more for a lot longer, but it always boiled down to that. Did he need a reminder that he managed to keep a hell of a lot of secrets, from animagi, to maps, to Remus's crochet habit? Regulus had heard about Remus's condition from Snape, undoubtedly, so why he was more trustworthy to his eyes, Sirius would never know. Even when he wasn't around, that bastard ruined everything. "I understand why you didn't say anything; it's why I didn't ask. You needed your leverage. I'm not an idiot."

"You needn't be defensive. I'm simply clarifying that I intended for it to include silence among friends, in case there was any ambiguity, given the Harry remark," Regulus responded pointedly. "I would not have told you if I did not trust you with it."

"Harry's a kid," Sirius responded, because there was absolutely a difference between the two. A bitter thought struck that Regulus had only told him because Dumbledore, and perhaps Emmeline, would assume he knew in the wake of leaving, and he was simply trying to control the damage. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to tell him at all, but felt forced by circumstances and just wanted reassurance. "I'm not going to blab."

Regulus shifted to look out the small window between the bed and the cot but didn't say anything else.

Sirius took it as a sign and let himself slip into the long put-off sleep, because tomorrow everything would still be there to deal with, and the quicker he slept, the quicker he'd see Tonks and try to get everything back on track. He'd been wanting something he could throw himself into that he could actually do. Bellatrix had broken the uneasy stalemate they'd been in for months. It was time to repay the favour.