Invisible Scars
Okay, so I just saw the new new trailer for Goblet of Fire (my favorite book in the series thus far) and I am positively giddy! Really…I'm not kidding. There are three now that I've seen, and I love them all. I have a countdown to the big day at work with my co-worker who is also a fan!
I love how your reviews get more and more detailed. I find it incredibly helpful to know what is working…ask, and you shall receive, right?
I also love that this story is being enjoyed by all of you. It really makes me feel good to know that something I enjoy doing so much is passing that enjoyment on. Writing has always been my release, and I've needed it badly the past few weeks. Thank you, all of you, for having participated in this with me. I want you to know that I look over your reviews more than once to take them all in. I have never had people be so encouraging in all my life…I'll never be able to say how much that means to me.
Chapter 8 – Behind Her Eyes
As the last of the guests began apparating home, Harry saw Lupin coming toward him across the lawn. He looked away quickly, feeling quite ashamed over his behavior at Grimmauld Place two days ago. He knew he'd acted like a child, yelling and storming off to brood in private, but at the time, all he'd wanted to do was hit something, and he didn't figure Ron or Lupin would have been too pleased to be the recipient of his misplaced anger.
"Harry, do you have a minute?" Lupin asked as he approached. Harry nodded, looking around for a quiet place where they could talk. His gaze fell on Ron and Hermione, who were sitting too close to leave any doubt in anyone's mind about the current status of their relationship.
"Should I get Ron and Hermione?" he asked, gesturing to where they sat with their heads inclined towards each other's, engaged in a quiet, private conversation.
Lupin nodded. "I think it would be best. You would only tell them later anyway," he pointed out. Harry nodded and started off for the table where his friends sat. Before he got there, however, Mrs. Weasley wandered over, stumbling the last few feet. Mr. Weasley was close behind, a very amused expression on his face.
As Harry got closer, he saw Mrs. Weasley cradling Hermione's cheeks in her hands, and he could hear her blubbering on quite unintelligibly.
"I always thought you two would…then again, what with the Daily Prophet and Harry…but it was Ron all along…who ever said opposites…I just knew, like mothers do…and oh, I couldn't be more pleased," Mrs. Weasley went on, obviously half-drunk and half-overcome by the outpouring of emotions of the day. Mr. Weasley shook his head slowly, letting a very confused and slightly scared Hermione know that whatever his wife was saying was indeed all good things.
"Come on, Molly. I think we should turn in, don't you?" he asked, gently pulling her hands off Hermione's face. Ron was openly laughing at his mother, who turned to him with a sappy look displayed across her features.
"My little boy, Arthur, he's found love, he has!" she exclaimed, ruffling Ron's hair and beginning to cry all at the same time. "And it was with the girl he's known since he was a child! I have never seen anything so romantic…"
"Of course you have, dear," Mr. Weasley said patiently, now removing her hands from his son's head. "We met in school as well, remember?"
Mrs. Weasley spun into her husband's arms and kissed him soundly on the cheek. "How could I forget? Second year…a scrawny little boy knocked me down in the corridors outside of Charms and I was never the same…"
Ron was now trying his best to hide his grin behind his hand while Hermione giggled into hers. Harry closed the remaining distance between him and the table and Mr. Weasley took it as a sign to cart his wife off to bed.
"Leave all of this until tomorrow," he said, pulling his wife's arm across his shoulders. "And don't stay out here too late. It's not really safe to be…" he trailed off. His eyes locked onto Ron's and then swung to Harry and Hermione respectively. "Well, I suppose you know all of that."
With a wave over his shoulder and one last exclamation of the beauty of young love from Mrs. Weasley, they disappeared into the house.
"I've never seen my mother so snockered," Ron said, shaking his head. "She must've found dad's firewhiskey. Always had a bad reaction to firewhiskey."
Harry gestured over toward where Lupin still stood, now joined by Tonks. "Lupin said he has some information about R.A.B. for us," Harry said, acknowledging them with an inclination of his head. Hermione's eyes immediately took on the focused look they always did when she was about to receive new information.
"Did he find out if it was Sirius' brother?" she asked excitedly.
Harry laughed at her enthusiasm. "I don't know. He hasn't told me a thing yet. I wanted to come get you two first."
Hermione leapt out of her chair and pulled Ron up along with her. "Come on," she ordered to the both of them. "I've been dying to find out anything about this."
Ron and Harry could do little else than practically jog to keep up with her as she crossed the lawn at top speed. Along the way, their paths crossed with Ginny's, who was saying goodbye to the last relative left at the house. There was a loud pop and the older woman disappeared, leaving Ginny alone to face the three of them.
"Hey, where are you lot off to in such a hurry?" she asked, her eyes still sparkling from the merriment of the evening. As she looked from one to the other in succession, however, the sparkle in her eyes dulled, leaving a very hollow look in its place. She turned to see Lupin and Tonks sitting at a table waiting for them, and when she faced them once again, Harry's gut wrenched so painfully he thought he would be sick.
Ginny looked more alone than he'd ever seen her look. She was no longer staring at Ron or Hermione. Her eyes were trained directly on his; very sad, resigned eyes. "I see," she said quietly. "Don't let me hold you up, then."
She ducked her head and stepped around them. Harry put his hand out to stop her, but she was already out of reach. He watched her walk back to the house, and he took a step to go after her…then stopped. Then, another step – just one – before he stopped again.
He stayed like that so long that Hermione had to grab hold of his arm. "Come on, Harry," she said gently. "Lupin and Tonks are waiting for us."
Harry walked along with them and sank dejectedly into the seat across from Lupin when they reached the table. He would have to find a way to smooth things over with Ginny. He had to. He couldn't stand her being so upset any longer. There had to be a way to keep her a part of things and keep her safe all at the same time…
"I heard from my mother yesterday," Tonks said, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "She says that she doesn't remember much about Regulus, since by the time he was old enough to hang around with the older cousins, Sirius had already left home. She did say that she remembers him being a very pleasant little boy; very polite and in a state of complete hero-worship of Sirius."
Lupin leaned forward in his chair. "The problem is, I don't recall Sirius being all that fond of his brother. Actually," he said, correcting himself, "that's not true. He never really mentioned his brother much. It was more the rest of his family that he didn't hold with. The only time he even mentioned he had a little brother was in our third year when McGonagall asked us if we had any siblings at home that would be terrorizing the castle any time soon. Other than that, nothing."
Tonks sighed and her purple-streaked hair mellowed into a soft violet. "Mum reckons that Regulus joined up with You-Know-Who when he turned of age. The thing that bothered her, though, was when I told her that we couldn't find anything concerning him in the house. She swore up and down that Sirius' mother was the quintessential document keeper. She almost took on the role as if it was an honor among a family with such a 'pure' lineage and such contributions to the wizarding world." She said all of this with a slight sneer on her face, her tiny nose wrinkled in disgust.
Hermione gave her an odd look. "There's not one single piece of evidence that Regulus even existed anywhere in the Black family home?"
"Except for the family crest, nothing," Tonks answered, shaking her head. "Mum says that sounds dodgy. The Black family was nothing if not obstinately and snobbishly proud of themselves…except Sirius of course," she added quickly.
Lupin laughed, the sound so quiet that at first Harry didn't think he had heard anything at all. "No, you had it right straight off. It's just that Sirius put his pride to good use." His eyes crinkled at the corners, and it seemed to Harry that he was trying desperately not to get caught up in the past. "At least most of the time."
"So what do we do now?" Ron asked, obviously disappointed that there wasn't more to go on. He looked back and forth between Lupin and Harry, waiting for one of them to make the first move.
It was Hermione, however, that tossed out the only logical conclusion. "We'll need to search the house again for something, anything, that could help us understand Regulus better. We can't meet him until we know we can trust him."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Ron cut him off. "I agree." He turned and pinned Harry with a pointed look. "We're not going to rush into this until we know if he's on our side or not. Too much is at stake…too many people involved."
Harry read his meaning loud and clear. If it was just him going off in search of the horcruxes and, ultimately, Voldemort, he could justify trusting about any and everyone if he thought they would lead him to his destination – for the folly would be his and his alone if he was wrong.
He saw Ron look at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, and Harry sighed. Of course Ron was right. He needed to go about this as Hermione would – logically and with a level head.
"Alright," he said, agreeing to Hermione's suggestion. "Would it be possible to look around over the next few days?" he asked Lupin.
Lupin looked mildly surprised. "You don't need to ask permission, Harry. Sirius left the house to you, after all. It's yours to do with it what you want."
Harry sighed again, the ache in his chest intensifying. He didn't want the house. He would give it up in the merest of seconds if it meant one more day with his godfather. "We'll be over tomorrow then," he said.
After Lupin and Tonks left, Harry excused himself from the table to give Hermione and Ron a chance to say a proper goodnight to each other. Besides, he wanted to check on Ginny and make sure she was alright before he turned in himself.
The house was eerily silent in contrast to the raucous party that had been going on only an hour before. He crept quietly through the kitchen and was about to go up the stairs to Ginny's room when his eyes fell on a shock of red hair splayed across the arm of the sofa in front of the fireplace.
He crossed the floor carefully, knowing that the boards sometimes creaked if stepped on the wrong way, and saw Ginny sleeping curled up on her side.
There was a full minute where all he did was look at her. She was more beautiful to him now than she'd ever been, from the fiery silkiness of her hair to the tiny toes peeking out from under the hem of her robes. His breath caught in his chest as she sighed in her sleep, her long eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.
He turned to go, realizing that it was only slow torture to watch over her like this – and rammed his knee directly into the corner of the end table.
"OW!" he yelled out, before he could stop himself. Ginny stirred quickly, opening her eyes and rubbing at them confusedly.
"Harry?" she asked, letting her eyes adjust to the low light coming into the room. "What is it? What's the matter?"
"Stupid end table," Harry swore, sinking into the armchair next to the sofa. "Introduced it to my kneecap right enough."
Ginny pushed herself into a sitting position, looking positively fetching as her tousled hair tumbled over her shoulders, her sleepy gaze finding his in the dark. "Are you alright?" she asked.
"Never better," he said sarcastically, not thinking about the end table at all.
There was a moment where the silence crept in between them, where Harry knew that he needed to say something to make what happened before all better. The problem was, he didn't know what that something was.
"You didn't have to leave earlier," he said finally, figuring that it was at least a start.
"Yes, I did," she responded immediately, pulling her gaze from his and looking into the empty, unlit fireplace.
"Why? You know I would tell you whatever we talked about anyway," he said.
Ginny shook her head, her hair swishing against her back in a motion that Harry found oddly endearing despite the seriousness of their conversation. "No, I think it's better that I don't know. I know myself too well. If I knew what you guys did, but I wasn't able to go with you, it would drive me crazy. At least this way, with me left in the dark, I won't wonder what I'm missing by not being there."
Harry stared at the side of her face, wishing that he knew what to say to her.
What he wanted to say, he knew he couldn't. It would only make things worse. Still, all of the unspoken words piled up inside him so quickly that he was afraid they'd spill out at any moment. So he said the first thing that came to him.
"We're going to Grimmauld Place tomorrow. You should come with us."
She finally turned to face him, the look of resignation on her face turning into one of anger. "Have you heard a word I've said?" she asked incredulously. "I can't be a part of some things and then excluded from others. I'm not some puppy that will be happy with the small scraps you're willing to throw my way!"
"That's not what I meant…" Harry began, but she cut him off quickly.
"I know what you meant. You'll have to forgive me if I don't think that accompanying you to that dark, depressing house is enough," she said in a harsh voice.
"Ginny, do you think this is easy for me?" Harry retorted hotly, feeling his frustrations bubbling to the surface. He knew she was the last person he should be yelling at right now, but he couldn't help it. He had absolutely no idea how to fix things, and she wasn't making it any easier. "Do you think I want to push away the one person I want to hold onto most?"
"I don't think you want that, no," Ginny reasoned, her voice becoming almost steely in the tense air surrounding them. "But that doesn't mean I have to roll over and accept it. I'm allowed to feel some type of way about it and not have to worry that I'm making things easier or harder for you."
"Where is this coming from?" he asked forcefully, not consciously noticing that they had begun to practically shout at one another from a distance of only a few inches. "A few days ago I thought we decided that we'd figure all of this out as we went along. I thought we'd agreed that we wouldn't lose sight of the fact that at the bottom of all of this, we care about each other."
"We did agree to figure it out as we went along," she said, her face growing a shade less red than her hair. "Maybe I'm over-emotional because Bill got married today. Maybe I'm irrational because Ron gets to be with Hermione and I don't get to be with you. Maybe I'm being a stupid, silly little girl who is letting her stupid, silly emotions run away with her. Or maybe I'm just realizing now that there might not be anything to figure out."
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, thoroughly confused and blinded by his own anger.
"It all seems pretty cut and dry to me," Ginny retorted, swatting her hair impatiently from her face as she spoke. "You don't want me to go with you for my own safety – yet you don't want to see me upset, either, so you let me in on the little stuff so I will feel like a part of things. But when the time comes for me to gracefully move to the side and let you go, I'm expected to do it without a second thought because it's what 'we' decided."
"This isn't fair!" he yelled, hearing his voice echo around the dark room. "Don't make me out to be the bad guy here, because if I could go back to school with you and finish out the year, walking by the lake and playing Quidditch, sitting with you by the fire in the common room, I would!"
"This isn't fair to either of us!" she shouted back. "Think about if the situation was reversed. Say it was me that was destined to take down Voldemort and you had to sit by and watch. Would you be content with letting me go, knowing you might not ever see me again?"
This gave Harry pause – more than anything else she could have said. What if she was the one who needed to leave? Would he let her go? Would he stay behind and let her go on without him?
No, he wouldn't. He knew it as sure as he knew Voldemort needed to be destroyed.
Someone cleared their throat from the top of the stairs, and Harry turned to see Mr. Weasley standing there, surveying them with an unreadable look on his tired face.
"I think the two of you have had quite enough for one day," he said evenly, pinning Harry to his seat with his stare. "Ginny, why don't you go on up to bed now."
Ginny pushed off the sofa angrily, refusing to meet Harry's eyes. "My thoughts exactly," she said, hurrying up the stairs and past her father with a swish of her long robes.
Harry sat completely still, not knowing what to say, if indeed he was supposed to say anything at all. Mr. Weasley simply regarded him silently from the top of the stairs for a long moment, before he turned to follow his daughter.
"Mr. Weasley," Harry called out, stopping him. "I'm sorry we woke you."
"You didn't," he said, turning back to Harry. "I haven't been sleeping much lately."
"How much did you hear?" Harry asked, afraid of the answer, but needing to know.
"Enough," Mr. Weasley responded, folding his arms across his chest.
Harry felt horrible. The last thing he'd wanted to do today, of all days, was cause anyone in this family any trouble. Yet, here he was, having alienated the one person in the family he needed the most, and disappointing her father all in the same turn.
"I'm sorry for everything, if it's any consolation," he said dejectedly. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen, but I don't want her hurt."
Mr. Weasley nodded slightly, but his expression didn't change. "I know you don't. The only problem is, she's hurting anyway, isn't she?"
"I'd rather have her hate me than have something terrible happen to her," Harry said emphatically, with much more resolve than he felt.
"And I appreciate that," Mr. Weasley said. "More than you know. But it still doesn't change the fact that my little girl's heart is breaking in front of my eyes, and there's nothing I can do to fix it this time."
Harry felt all of the fight go out of him then, and his shoulders sagged in defeat. He couldn't say anything now even if he wanted to, and Mr. Weasley seemed to understand that.
He sighed audibly, uncrossing his arms. "You're a part of this family, Harry. That will never change, no matter what. You're just going to have to accept that there are going to be those who worry about you, and that their concern might be an 'inconvenience' from time to time. When people care about you, in many ways you're responsible to them for that."
"You can't possibly want her to come with us," Harry said, his voice shaking now. He was completely terrified to hear the answer.
"No, I don't want her to go with you," Mr. Weasley said wearily. "But I'm starting to realize that I have very little say in what my children can and cannot do any longer. The only thing I can do is pray that I've raised them well and be proud of them for doing what they know is right. Other than that…" His voice faded out to join the silence of the room.
They both remained quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Mr. Weasley seemed to come to himself a bit, for he gave a small start and put his hand on the railing. "You should probably turn in, too," he said. "You're going to be pretty busy over the next few days. I put in for a favor with the Apparition Committee, by the way. They said you and Ron can go in for your test any time before Thursday."
"Thanks," Harry said quietly.
Mr. Weasley nodded imperceptibly, then gave him a very small smile. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, Mr. Weasley."
Harry waited a minute until he knew he was alone in the room, then let his head drop wearily into his waiting hands.
Hermione entered the kitchen the next morning and was surprised to see Ron and Harry already there, eating breakfast. At least, Ron was eating. Harry was looking at his muffin as if he'd never properly seen one before, his hair a complete mess atop his head.
"Morning," she chirped, moving for the cupboard to procure a goblet for her juice. Harry grunted in recognition, but Ron grinned widely at her as he continued to chatter to Harry about some sort of new broom Charlie had been telling him about last night.
It was amazing. All he had to do was grin at her and her heart began pounding unmercifully. Is this what it was going to be like, being involved with Ronald Weasley? This constant ache in her chest, the continuous buzzing of every nerve in her body?
When Ron had finished regaling Harry with all of the broom's special features, he turned his full attention to her. "You think you can be ready to go in fifteen minutes?" he asked. "I already cleared it with my dad. As long as we floo straight there and back, no one needs to go with us."
"Sure," she said, grabbing a piece of toast and pouring herself some juice at the same time.
Harry looked up from his muffin and Hermione was surprised by the dark circles she saw under his eyes. It appeared as if he hadn't gotten a minute's rest all night.
"Was Ginny awake when you came down?" he asked.
"I don't think so," Hermione said. "She was asleep by the time I got to bed –" She cut off quickly, flushing as Ron's grin grew bigger. "And it sounded as if she was still asleep when I left the room. Why?"
Harry shrugged and returned to staring at his muffin. "No reason. I just wanted to talk to her, but I'll find her when we get back later."
Hermione decided it was best to leave things alone when she saw Harry pick up a spoon and try to slice his muffin in half.
When they stepped out of the grate at Grimmauld Place, the dark, desperate feeling Hermione always felt swept over her almost instantly. Then she realized that she'd be seeing her parents again and her mood lightened considerably.
She told the boys she'd catch them up and went off in search of her parents. She found them in the study, poring over books that appeared to be positively ancient.
"Hermione!" her mother exclaimed, jumping from her chair and enveloping her in a tight embrace. "Remus said you would be coming by today, but we didn't think it would be until later!"
"How are you, sweetheart?" her father asked, kissing her on the forehead. "Did you have a good time at the wedding?"
Hermione could feel herself beginning to blush again and willed it away. "I had a wonderful time," she said. "Why didn't you two come? There was plenty of food and everything."
"We would have, dear, but Remus let us go back to the house yesterday and pick up several things we needed. Some man named Moody took us…" she said, a reserved expression crossing her features. Hermione could understand that. To those who didn't know him, Mad Eye Moody was quite a bit to take in.
"So you're getting settled then?" Hermione asked, looking about the room to see if the books were indeed about dentistry and other various topics that interested her parents. The only thing she saw, however, were magical books, including the ones her parents had been reading when she came in.
"Adjusted is more like it," her father said, taking off his reading glasses and placing them on the desk in front of him. "At least we don't have that horrific portrait screaming at us anymore."
Hermione looked to her father in surprise. "You mean to say she hasn't started up again? That's unbelievable," she said, shaking her head. "The woman let loose a tirade of filth for almost a solid week the last time I stayed here."
Her mother shrugged. "Maybe Remus and Nymphadora were successful in their attempts to shut her up."
Hermione laughed; both at her mother's use of Tonks' first name, which Hermione was quite sure was never used except perhaps by Tonks' own mother, and the thought of Mrs. Black being silenced for good.
"Well, if that despicable woman has any deep, dark secrets, she's not telling them," her father added casually, flipping open the book in his hands. "I must say, sweetheart, I think I'm beginning to understand why you would pore over your books during holidays. These are positively fascinating - "
Hermione didn't hear her father. She was standing completely still, his first words reverberating in her head. Hiding secrets…
"Mum, dad, I'll be back later," she said, exiting the room swiftly. She ran into the main hall and stood in front of the portrait, staring at it as hard as she could. The face of Mrs. Black looked back at her blankly.
"Ron! Harry!" she called out loudly, watching the portrait closely to see if the screaming would begin again at the noise being produced from the 'mudblood' yelling in front of it.
Ron and Harry came rushing down the stairs from the second floor.
"What is it?" Ron asked, reaching her side quickly, searching her face. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she said, all of her attention still focused on the portrait. "I think I know what R.A.B. meant by the truth can be found behind family."
Ron and Harry followed her gaze to the portrait. "Do you mean to tell me…" Harry said, trailing off and not finishing his thought. Ron shook his head, but kept silent.
"Why not?" Hermione reasoned, going into explanation mode as she so often did with the two of them. "It would be the perfect place to keep something safe, isn't it? How many times did someone try to remove it two years ago? Besides, anyone who got close enough would have gone deaf long before they were able to figure out how to get behind it."
Lupin came into the room then, moving swiftly. "Did I hear someone shouting?" he asked. Hermione nodded and pointed at the portrait.
"When did you say that she stopped screaming at everyone who walked by?" she asked, impatiently hopping from foot to foot.
"The day your parents arrived," he answered, looking slightly confused. "Why?"
"Were you with them the whole time?" she prodded. "Was there anyone else in the house at the time?"
"Tonks and I took them upstairs to get them settled and away from her," he said, gesturing at the portrait. "When we were done up there, we took them into town to get them any supplies they would need. There wasn't an Order meeting, so there wasn't anyone else here," he said patiently. He gave Hermione a curious look. "What's going on? Why all the questions?"
Hermione's blood began to pound in her veins, as it always did when she was on the verge of figuring something out. "The letter we received from R.A.B. said that the truth was behind family, no matter how hard it was to see. Tonks said there are no documents or papers or any proof at all that Regulus even existed besides the crest."
Lupin looked at the portrait in much the same fashion as Ron and Harry just had. Then he swung his gaze back to Hermione and a slow grin spread across his face. "I always knew you were smarter than I ever was, but I didn't realize just how much smarter."
"Hold on," said Ron, waving his hands in front of him. "Indulge the common folk for a minute and explain one thing to me. Actually, two," he amended. "First, what could possibly be behind there that would prove R.A.B.'s trustworthiness to us; and second, just how in the bloody hell are we supposed to get to it?"
Hermione sighed in frustration. "I don't know," she said. "To both questions."
Lupin shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't help you there either, Ron."
Harry, who had been very quiet for quite some time, looked to Lupin with an incredulous expression on his face. "I think I might be able to answer the first question."
All eyes turned to him. "It might be possible that the proof is a…well, that it's a horcrux."
His words were met with contemplative silence. Finally, Lupin spoke up. "Why would you think that, Harry?"
"Because, R.A.B. was trying to collect them. I found a note inside the locket Dumbledore and I found, thinking it was the real one. If R.A.B. is Regulus, maybe he hid one in a place he knew that people who would help take Voldemort down would find it. Maybe he figured that somebody would find it one day and destroy it themselves," he said.
Lupin shook his head. "We couldn't remove the portrait, but Dumbledore performed several sweeping spells over the whole house when we first started using it as headquarters. If there was anything behind it, we would have found it."
Hermione stepped forward then. "That's why I asked all the questions before about where you were the day she stopped screaming," she explained. "I think Regulus came home to hide the information…or the horcrux, for us."
Ron looked completely overwhelmed. He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. "This is getting bloody complicated."
Lupin straightened his shoulders and suddenly became all business. "Right then. The question of importance now becomes how we get behind the portrait."
Harry glared at the picture of Mrs. Black. "I suppose saying please wouldn't work," he said wryly.
Ron sighed. "Why do I have a feeling that only one person will know how to get behind this?" he said, gesturing over Hermione's shoulder. "And if he is, you know what that means."
Hermione nodded, looking entirely put out. "It means we wait," she said sourly. "I hate waiting."
I hate waiting, too, but I'm so tired and I really wanted to post something before turning in. I've been working on this for two days, and just finished. I apologize for the gaps between chapters, but I really like to work methodically…editing and rewriting where needed, changing things that don't work or flow correctly. So, here it is. I'll have to continue the next phase in my head tomorrow or Thursday. Definitely by Friday!
I tried to include a small part about how alike I think Lupin and Hermione are. I think JKR made the two trios very similar and parallel to each other. James and Harry, Sirius and Ron, Lupin and Hermione…I think Lupin and Hermione can understand each other because they play the same role in their friends' lives, as do Sirius and Ron (the whole loyal, best friend, die for those he loves type way). Anyway, just a thought.
Regulus will be making an appearance next chapter, and I have a very defined vision of him in my head…I know people probably have thousands of different ways they see him, so I'll understand if mine doesn't wash with you. But, it's how I see him, so that's all I know how to write.
Hope this finds everyone happy, healthy and safe.