m&mwp.


"Regulus Arcturus Black," Harry says, handing a photograph to Dominique. "Youngest son of Orion and Walburga Black. Died 1979 at the Cave, where he successfully retrieved one of Voldemort's horcruxes."

Evenings at the Potters often end like this. Harry, by the crackling fire, desperate to make sure that no one's sacrifice is forgotten. He regales the children with stories of Remus' classes, Fred's pranks, and Colin's impromptu photoshoots. They're difficult stories for him to tell—sometimes the lump in his throat too much and he can't bear continue. But at the next family gathering, Harry is always ready with another.

The story of Regulus Black is one that Dominique has heard before, but she's never seen this photograph. She holds it gingerly, peering down at it with curiosity.

"He's the one in the middle," Harry tells her. "The seeker."

Ah.

Now that she knows, she can see the resemblance to the photos of Sirius which Harry has made sure the whole family are well-acquainted with. The dark hair and haughty look appear to be Black family trademarks.

"He's quite handsome."

"Dom!" Victoire chastises. "That's hardly appropriate."

Dominique shrugs. She'd feel guilty, but she can see Harry holding back a laugh. She stretches out her legs, waiting patiently for him to continue. If she were allowed to have favourites—if it were appropriate—the story of Regulus Black would be it. What can she say? She has a soft spot for a redemption arc.

And the photograph...she takes a final glance at the boy in the photo before passing it to her sister. Well, the photograph helps. After all, every good redemption arc starts with a good looking villain.