Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; JK Rowling does.

Author's Note: This is supposed to take place just over twenty-four hours before Regulus's death, which would explain why the first words out of my beta's mouth after reading it were, "It's a little depressing." You have been warned. Cheers! --- Loki

"There," Andromeda announced, plunking the mug down in front of me. "This is better."

I smiled wanly. She'd certainly done a lot in the last ten minutes to make me a little more comfortable. She'd packed her husband and daughter off to the park, cleaned the dining room of its presumably perpetual mess, and made cocoa. "Thanks, Meda," I mumbled.

She sat down beside me with a mug of her own and thoughtfully put a bowl of milk in front of Anna, who was seated on the table as usual, her bottlebrush tail twitching. For a moment all was silent except for the lapping of my cat. I stared uncomfortably at the mug Meda had handed me and she watched me, undoubtably expecting me to start the conversation.

"It's an interesting change," she commented lightly after a moment. "Having the house quiet for once, I mean."

I glanced over at her and arched an eyebrow.

"I have a six year-old-daughter and a husband who cannot descend the front steps without tripping," she reminded me dryly. "Do you really think I get much quiet?"

I shrugged, toying absently with my mug. "I didn't really find it interesting— after Sirius left, that is, and all the noise stopped. It was . . . like being surrounded by a muffler, really. Like any minute you expected him to knock something over, or make something explode, or start fighting with Mum, or something, and the longer you waited and nothing happened, the more the tension built up until finally you just wanted to go upend the bookshelf just to dissipate it."

After a moment, Meda whispered, "The difference, I suppose, is that I know Ted'll be back in an hour covered with mud, and you knew Sirius was gone for good. I take it you wish he was still around?"

"Occasionally," I admitted. "Most of the time I admit it was the best thing for him."

Anna batted at my mug with one paw and I picked it up to keep her from knocking it over. Then I took a sip, mostly to be polite. "I have a confession to make," I admitted as I set it back down.

Meda just continued to stare at me for a few more uncomfortable moments of silence, waiting for me to continue my story.

"I had Apparated to Alphard's doorstep before I remembered he was dead," I told her. "I really didn't want to come to you."

Meda's long, slender fingers curled around my arm. "That's understandable, really," she murmured. "Alphard was always easy to talk to."

"It wasn't that, really. You're easy to talk to, too. I would just . . . I really didn't want to run into Ted or Nymphadora."

"Oh."

I knew from the tone of that "oh" that she knew exactly why I didn't want to see the rest of her family, that I'd been privy to the murder of so many people like them even if I'd never committed it myself, never had Bella's knack for the Unforgivables. It was amazing, really, that instead of recoiling her grip on my arm only tightened.

"I guess you know how much of an idiot I've been?" I asked.

She smiled wanly. "Cissy mentioned it last time we met. Well, not in so many words, but I was able to surmise that Bella, Rodolphus, Lucius, and you had done it. I expected no more of the other three, but you. . . ."

"Were a disappointment?" I asked.

"Not exactly— Reggie, please," she said as I tugged out of her grip. She grabbed my shoulder instead. "You did what you're parents asked of you."

"Sometimes I wish I'd been more of a disappointment," I mumbled. "To Mum and Dad, I mean, and less of one to you and Sirius."

A rather pained expression crossed Meda's face.

"You know I'm no killer, don't you?" I asked softly, looking into the mug to avoid looking into her face, and into the gray eyes I knew would be filling with tears I couldn't fathom the meaning of. "You knew that Bella couldn't make me one no matter what she threatened, no matter how hard she tried. So did Sirius. I realize that I should've listened to you, now that I can't get out alive."

"Reggie, please," she whispered again, pulling me into her arms like she might have a child. Really, I wasn't much more than one. "You're my family."

"So's Bella, but she'd kill you in an instant." I shook my head and tried to pull out, but she wouldn't let me. I bit back some tears of my own— that was another reason I would have preferred Alphard: Alphard would not have gotten me to the verge of tears in a million years, let alone in five minutes. "I . . . I tried to do something that would make up for how incredibly stupid I've been."

I scrabbled inside a pocket, and she let go of me so I could pull the slightly corroded-looking locket out.

Meda winced. She could feel something dark coming out of it. I could, too, but it had been in the pocket of my robes for nearly twenty-four hours, so I was getting used to it. "It's the Dark Lord's," I told her, "and I think I know how to destroy it. I'll try, and then I'll leave it at the bottom of Mum's collection of keepsakes just in case, so at least he won't be able to find it again."

She bit her trembling lip. "Regulus, you'll be killed!"

"I signed my own death warrant twelve hours before I stole this, Meda," I admitted, swallowing the colossal lump that had formed in my throat. "Bella knows where Sirius is. I stopped her and sent him an owl to move. Any day now they'll start looking for me, so I can't stay long."

Meda nodded. From the suddenly frightened look on her face, I guessed that it took effort. "Wow," she whispered in a trembling voice.

I shrugged. "I wanted forgiveness, Meda. For every idiot thing I've done in the past months." I hesitated. "Do I have it?"

She nodded. "You just had to ask."

It would take more if you knew everything, I couldn't help but think. I put the locket back into my pocket and picked up my half-finished cocoa. "Do you . . . do you think I did the right thing?" I asked. "It'll make him weaker, but if . . . but if stopping Bella won't get me killed, this will."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you think you did the right thing?" she asked. Now she sounded like Uncle Alphard, which was almost comforting. He'd always given good advice.

"I wouldn't have had the guts to do it if I didn't think I was doing the right thing."

"Then I think . . . I think that's your answer," she told me, with a slight and shaky smile.

"Thanks, Meda." I stood up and set the mug back down on the table. "I suppose that I really, really ought to go before she finds out where you and Ted are, too."

Meda hesitated, then nodded and got to her feet. Anna leapt onto my shoulders and the three of us walked to the door. There I hesitated and pulled my tabby from my shoulders to my chest. "Nymphadora likes animals, right?" I asked.

"Ye-es. . . ." Meda said hesitantly.

"Does she have any pets?"

"No-o. . . ."

I pressed Anna into her arms. "Do you mind if I give her my cat, then? I can't keep her with me and have her killed too whenever someone catches up with me. Just tell her it's from her cousin Regulus."

Meda looked down at the tabby. "So there's no hope, then?"

"Eh?" I asked, my hand on the doorknob.

"Well, if there was, you'd have kept your cat. She's always been your second shadow, after all, hasn't she?"

I stared at the two girls for a moment, toying with my glasses. "I suppose that maybe I am admitting that."

She pulled me into another hug with her free arm, and this time I was more than willing to return it. I was half afraid that I wouldn't be willing to let go. "I'll miss you, Reggie."

"Same here. I'll put in a good word for you . . . or a bad one, I guess, depending on where I end up."

She gave a watery chuckle at my feeble attempt at a joke. "I've no doubt you'll end up in the better place," she told me, pulling away to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her robe. When they were as dry as she could get them, she looked back up at me. "Just . . . just try to take care of yourself, Reggie."

I smiled shakily and nodded, but I didn't trust my voice. Then, before I risked staying any longer, I Apparated home, leaving my cousin with a half empty mug of cocoa, my tabby cat . . . and the only assurance I had left, that I was at least doing the right thing.