Any good humor that Regulus found in teasing Carina subsided after he opened the front door. It appeared no one was there at first. It was only when he stepped out of the house to investigate that he spotted a tall, thin man examining the garden.
He appeared to be very old, judging by his long, silvery hair that was long enough to be tucked into his belt. The traveling cloak he wore was a garish shade of fuchsia. Regulus froze, realizing who he was without fully believing it. What was Albus Dumbledore doing at his house?
The answer was disappointingly obvious given his recent encounter with Sirius. He should have known better than to think that Sirius would keep his secret. They were no longer the boys they were when they lived across the hall from each other, after all.
He couldn't dwell on the myriad of emotions vying for his attention. He discreetly cast a spell to prevent Carina from coming outside, taking some comfort in knowing Sirius didn't know about his family to tell anyone about them. Then, expelling all emotion from his mind, he went to meet the Hogwarts' headmaster.
Apart from perhaps a few more wrinkles, he looked just like Regulus remembered. Indeed, even the expression he wore when he looked at him was much the same as it had been when he was a student at Hogwarts. Nothing of Dumbledore's appearance indicated surprise upon finding a believed-to-be-dead former student, alive and well in another country.
"Regulus Black," he greeted him pleasantly, as if this meeting between them had been prearranged.
"Dumbledore," he said tersely. "What are you doing here?"
"I had business at Beauxbatons this morning. As Madame Maxime has not yet returned to the school, I met with the directeur adjoint, Professeur Deschamps. Due to recent events, the topic of staffing arose... I trust you can understand my curiosity after hearing the name of a former pupil mentioned to be teaching there. Particularly one whose death we grieved – what was it, fifteen years ago?"
"Grieved," he repeated, not bothering to mask his doubt. He expected much of wizarding Britain was glad to be rid of him.
"Oh, yes," Dumbledore answered solemnly. "Any death so young is a tragedy. May I ask the reason you wished for us to believe you died?"
In truth he didn't set out to convince anyone he was dead; he had been preoccupied with plotting his own destruction at the time. For he knew there was but one outcome when he went into that cave. To betray Voldemort in the way he intended – stealing his Horcrux and destroying it was an imminent death sentence. He nearly died in the effort. He doubted anyone, even Sirius, could have been more surprised by his survival, than what Regulus had been, at the time it happened.
As for his one great act of defiance – it was irrelevant. Voldemort found another way to return to his human body. He was not at all in the mood to relive some of the darkest moments of his past with a former headmaster, whom he barely ever knew, simply because he had turned up in his front yard uninvited.
Unfortunately, he had to acknowledge that Dumbledore could make his life difficult. Falling back to his old trusted habit, he elected to be as vague as possible without actually lying.
"There was an incident in which I nearly died," he said slowly, referencing his ordeal in the cave. "Rumors that I was dead began to spread as I was recovering. No one had seen me for a while and there was… preexisting speculation that I lacked the commitment required to be a death eater. It was enough for the death eaters who knew me to believe I'd been killed by The Dark Lord – or on his orders," he said detachedly. Dumbledore, who had been watching him intently, nodded for him to continue, apparently unsurprised by anything he'd said so far.
Regulus, however, hesitated. The rest of the wizarding world could believe he was dead if only he disappeared for long enough, but not Voldemort. Not after he had forged a connection between them. Did Dumbledore know about the Dark Mark? If so, he must know of the impossibility of leaving the death eaters without help. To confuse and bind such powerful magic was far beyond the ability of an eighteen-year-old, no matter how clever he might have thought he was at the time.
It had taken the collective effort of Maliah's father and brother, Edgar. Both were as well-respected as they were magically powerful. They were also two of the best people Regulus ever knew. The last thing he wanted to do was to taint their memory by implicating them in his past.
"So, you allowed the rumors to do what rumors do," Dumbledore speculated, "Disseminate until becoming accepted as truth."
He nodded, "The Dark Lord would not be alone in wanting me dead. There was also the Ministry, who had orders to kill rather than capture death eaters by then… the Order," he shrugged. "I had the benefit, if you can call it that, of many enemies, but I lacked the importance for anyone to investigate the details of my disappearance thoroughly. It was enough that I was believed to be dead."
"Sirius was beside himself when the news came out that you had died," Dumbledore said in a tone that was almost gentle. "He did what he could to find out what happened. It was, as you said, as if no one knew – but that isn't to say that no one cared-"
An unbidden laugh escaped Regulus. "Is this – sympathy?" he asked mirthlessly. "Do you not see? The lack of investigation was the key to me being able to escape. I would be dead otherwise."
Dumbledore regarded him for a moment. Despite his serene façade, Regulus knew his mind was working to fill in the missing pieces of his disappearance, and likely picking apart the holes in his story.
"You had people who cared about you," Dumbledore persisted. "Your family – friends, it must have troubled them most grievously to know that you were gone – but to never know how."
"My parents would have believed the same thing Sirius did – that I got in over my head and was killed for being unable to do what was asked," he said in the same dispassionate manner of speaking as before. "As for my friends, well they were death eaters, weren't they? Sympathizers at best. They couldn't very well grieve someone who turned their back on the dark lord." He was aware that his lip curled slightly every time he forced out that ridiculous appellation.
If Dumbledore noticed, he gave no indication. His eyes were drawn once more to the yard. It took little imagination to know why he found it interesting. Well-traveled stone paths were neatly lined with mounding shrubs of Scottish heather, currently in full bloom; iceberg roses climbed terrace walls and fragrant lavender grew beneath a canopy of mature trees.
Absent, were all varieties of flesh-eating trees, Fanged Geranium and Venomous Tentacula. Maliah had inherited a distrust of magical plants around children from her parents. The land surrounding the Bones' ancestral house had been kept as carefully nonmagical as their yard was here in France. He loathed to think of what sort of connections Dumbledore could draw from that.
It was never really a secret that he and Maliah dated in their last year at school. While they were generally discreet about it, any Slytherin who was remotely observant would have noticed, and likely anyone in their N.E.W.T. level classes could have guessed. There was a time when Regulus might have believed that members of faculty were as oblivious to any romantic pairings among their students as they seemed. That was before he became a teacher himself. Even more damning, was that Dumbledore had been a friend and confidante of Maliah's father.
Dumbledore turned his attention to the limestone house behind him. It was modest compared to where he or Maliah had grown up, but certainly large enough for more than just him. Regulus anticipated a comment indicating as much – if not Maliah, perhaps a muggle girl with similar taste lived with him. He cleared his throat quietly rather than give way to the inappropriate amusement that was brewing inside him, alongside his anxiety.
"I understand now why Madame Maxime was so reluctant to give me your name when the topic of Defense Against the Dark Arts professors arose back at Hogwarts," Dumbledore remarked.
It was not what Regulus expected him to comment on, though it scarcely made for better conversation. It was obvious that Madame Maxime had censored information about him. Rather than confirm that it would have been intentional, Regulus did his best to look innocent and remained silent.
"What she did tell me, is that your classes are engaging; that you are a favorite among the students, and that they routinely test highly in their qualifying exams in Defense." He was watching his expression closely. "She was regretful to think you might be inclined to leave now that – the school year has ended," he said delicately.
Regulus supposed he was trying to gauge whether he knew Voldemort was back.
"I tell her every year it may well be my last," he lied casually. "I have some aversion to committing to anything long-term, I am sure you can understand."
"Yes, I think I might," Dumbledore said, his lips twitching slightly, before becoming more somber. His eyes flitted to his left forearm before settling back on his face, "Forgive me for being blunt, but for the sake of efficiency, I am going to speculate that you have means to know already that Voldemort is back. He managed to return to a human body."
"I got the message," Regulus admitted reluctantly.
"I must ask, do you have any idea of how he managed to return?"
He knew he wasn't referring to the specific ritual that he had used. Unfortunately, admitting that he knew Voldemort made a Horcrux was likely to give the impression that he had a more prominent role in the death eaters. In reality, it was only due to Voldemort's carelessness that Regulus figured out that he had made a Horcrux in the first place. He didn't have a lot of faith that Dumbledore would take his word for it.
He furrowed his brow as if deep in thought and shook his head. "There can't be too many options, can there?" he said, silently willing Dumbledore to figure it out on his own.
He had confided in Maliah's father and Edgar about what he had stolen from the cave. Had neither of them suggested the possibility of Voldemort creating a Horcrux to him? He supposed they couldn't have, without giving reason for the suspicion. The risk would have outweighed the benefit, especially because they did not believe a soul could be split more than once. Regulus had destroyed the one Horcrux Voldemort created, after all.
"Forgive me for thinking that someone who knew enough of Voldemort's plans to change the course of his entire life, might have better insight into how he managed to return."
Regulus faltered slightly. "I joined when I was sixteen, and spent most of the next two years at Hogwarts, finishing my education. It wasn't long after that, that I left... You must know Voldemort would have never confided his plans in a teenager. Certainly, not one who only ever did the bare minimum of what was asked of them."
Dumbledore appeared to be deep in thought. It was several minutes before he spoke again.
"It was mainly curiosity that brought me here. Though, since meeting with you, I am convinced you would be an asset at Hogwarts."
Regulus balked at that. If anything, he thought Dumbledore would want to arrange for his arrest.
"Why-?" he asked blankly.
"Now that Voldemort is back, he will be seeking new followers. Accomplished witches and wizards, and those younger… Impressionable teenagers who show promise will soon be sought after to join him, just as you were," he paused, allowing his words to sink in for a moment. "There are a number of students at Hogwarts whom I believe would benefit from your… experience."
"I can't go back," he said quietly.
"Can't, or won't?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Both." Upon seeing the way he was looking at him, he added, "You should know I don't have some dying wish to return to Britain. There is nothing left for me there."
"What about Sirius?"
"The escaped mass murderer, do you mean?" Dumbledore pursed his lips. "He abandoned my family nearly twenty years."
"Sirius is innocent," Dumbledore said emphatically. "It was recently brought to my attention that he was not the Potter's secret keeper, but Peter Pettigrew. It was Pettigrew who betrayed them. He then staged a confrontation with your brother, killed the muggles in the street and transformed into his animagus form - a rat. He disappeared into the sewers, leaving only a finger, and another presumed death to be pinned on your brother."
Regulus hadn't moved since the mention of Pettigrew. He had not known who the spy in the Order was, only instinctively that it was not Sirius.
"Just as you must be glad to learn of Sirius' innocence, I expect he would be glad to know about you- that you are alive, defected from the death eaters... and that you found a better way to use your past study of the Dark Arts – in sharing defense with students."
"Considering the different paths we chose in life, and where they led us, I doubt it would be a happy reunion," he said, recalling Sirius' parting words.
"It would mean a lot to him to know that you're alive," Dumbledore persisted.
Regulus averted his eyes, "Will he be given a trial now?" he asked, purposefully changing the subject. "You know he is innocent and you have the influence. Will you see to it that his name gets cleared?"
"I wish it was that simple. The Minister is currently in denial of Voldemort's return. I am primarily responsible for spreading the news. Suffice to say, any influence I previously enjoyed, is quickly waning."
"Do you mean to say there is nothing you can do?" Regulus said flatly.
Dumbledore gave him a meaningful look. "Perhaps what would help Sirius most right now, is support from those of us who know he is innocent."
What he needs most is his name cleared and his freedom back, Regulus thought. What he said was, "I am the last person Sirius would want to have around."
"You might be surprised. I expect he would take all the help he could get when it comes to protecting his godson. He was involved in Voldemort's rebirth, after all."
"How is the Potter boy doing?" Regulus asked, before he could stop himself.
"He is with his aunt and uncle now," Dumbledore answered. "You would have him in class if you accepted the position at Hogwarts," he added, as if it was an afterthought, despite the keen way in which he was looking at him.
Evidently ready to leave, he offered his hand. "Regulus."
He stared at it for a moment, contemplating the likelihood of being side-along Apparated to Azkaban if he took it. Ultimately, he did shake his hand though. And when he did, he was relieved that his feet stayed firmly on the ground. "I ask that you take time to consider my offer. If you change your mind, owl me immediately."
"Alright," he said, if only to appease him; he wasn't likely to change his mind.
"Whatever you decide, I am glad to see you're alive and… perhaps more open-minded than before…" he said as he removed a small pendant from his pocket. "I believe Sirius too would be glad to learn these things about you." The pendant in his hand was clearly a portkey he had activated as it had begun to glow blue. With one last meaningful look, Dumbledore disappeared, leaving Regulus in the garden alone.
