Chapter 3

The Picture of Dorian Grey. Well not exactly

Traipsing back up the six flights of stairs, Paige was actually beginning to miss the ability to apparate. The anti-apparition spells, although vital, were a pain in a house such as this. Probably it was only Paige who thought this though, as she was the only one housed on this floor. As far as she could figure the first and the second along with about half of the third floor had been properly cleaned, and removed of any hazardous spells or dark objects. Whereas Paige's current residence of the sixth floor had been pretty much classified as off limits to anyone in the house, unless of course you were a Slytherin. She had no doubt that Sirius would not mind if she fell down the stairs.

Paige actually felt apprehensive. After what she found in the bathroom; she wondered what the other rooms held. There had been noise across the hall from herself the night she went to sleep; but she had been sure at the time it was just whoever was staying in that room. The knowledge that no one was actually in that room was of course a little unsettling, and for Paige's peace of mind needed some looking into. Under other circumstances she would not have contemplated investigating herself, but there was no one she would ask in this house to help her, which basically meant she was left on her own.

Wand at the ready bare feet making little noise on the floor, she cautiously pushed open the dark wooden door. The door looked no different from any other in the hall, its surface chipped and any varnish long but gone. It opened with a rather ominous creak and despite everything Paige could feel her heart rate increasing. Not daring to even step into the room she pushed open the door all the way. Unfortunately the lack of windows in the room meant that she could see little of its interior. Looking to her left she grabbed an ornate candlestick which was completely covered with cobwebs and tossed it onto the floor of the room, Paige did not want to be caught unaware by any more man-eating floors. The heavy candlestick landed with a resounding thud and Page swore she heard a startled yelp.

"Who's there?" She called but of course there was no reply. Lighting her wand she cautiously stepped into the room. Paige was immediately hit by the sharp contrast of this room to her own. Whereas hers was bare, dull, plain and lifeless. This room was ornate, richly furnished and held so many imprints of life that Paige could easily conjure of an image of whoever lived here.

Although cobwebs and dust coated everything it did not detract from the grandeur of the room; it merely made it look unlived in, and rather sad. It was richly decorated in dark greens, silvers and blacks; clearly Slytherin colours. A four poster bed stood on the back wall of the room whilst a bedside table with more candles and books piled high was of a dark black wood. The floor was once again dark wood, but Paige had no doubt that in times past it had been well cared for. Shelves filled to the brim with books lined the walls, and as her eyes trailed upwards towards the high ceiling, Paige could hardly contain her gasp. What looked to be a painting covered the entire ceiling, yet on close inspection it wasn't a painting. At the moment it showed grey sky, clouds moving swiftly over, but Paige realised it must be similar to spell which enchanted the Hogwarts ceiling; it was enchanted to look like the sky outside.

Paige was so enthralled watching the ceiling that she had failed to take in the rest of the room, but as there was a muffled clatter from somewhere in the vicinity she looked around sharply. Her eyes darted looking for the intruder as he had clutched tightly to her wand. Her eyes fell upon a black velvet curtain that was she less observant would believe covered a window. However Paige knew from downstairs; that the curtain hid a painting just as the one in the front hall did. Her thoughts whirled as to who was in the painting; and she knew it had to be someone of importance to the Black family to have his painting hung in a room like this.

Paige fought back her trepidation and walked carefully over to the wall at which it hung, in a rapid movement she moved the curtain aside revealing the painting. The painting could have been a mirror as it clearly depicted the room in which she was stood, the only things that gave it away as the painted image it was, were the lack of dust and cobwebs, the unmoving ceiling, and most obviously a young man about the twenty. The portrait blinked at her, but his grey eyes stared down at her inquisitively with more than a little derision.

He looked so much like Sirius, Paige could only stare. Take away the years between them, take away Sirius's years in Azkaban which had fundamentally changed his appearance and they could have passed for twins. That is, unless you looked in their eyes. Sirius who always gave the vaguely haunted look also showed his younger self in his eyes, whereas looking at the man in the picture Paige had no doubt that this man was a Slytherin. The haunted look in these eyes was for a different reason, it was the look that she had seen in every Slytherin's eyes, the proof that being in Slytherin cost a lot more than any other could know. Paige had to shake herself and remember the tapestry downstairs, remember back to reading the Daily Profit years ago; remember that the man in front of her was in fact dead. That the image before her was just that; merely an image and a representation of the man when this picture was painted; that it was not real.

"Nice to see you again Regulus." She managed to choke out. The Portrait's eyes seemed to widen and then narrow in recognition.

"Paige Callaghan." He said slowly "I remember you."

"Good to know Regulus, I never thought of myself as all that memorable." She said.

"Oh you weren't." He replied ignoring her disgruntled look "But your advocates were." Of course any one of the Death Eaters would have known, and this man for however short a time, had been a Death Eater.

"Well nice to know you at least remembered that much." She said quietly.

"Well it's not like there's much to remember." He sneered. Her eyes narrowed instantly and her Slytherin instincts took over.

"At least one of us still remains in the land of living to remember." She shot at him.

"Oh how droll." He said sarcastically.

"It seems your years as a portrait have done nothing to improve your intelligence Regulus." She told him.

"Just as your years did nothing to improve you in general. You know I did have some hope, that he would be able to train you, clearly I was wrong." He told her.

"Clearly." She replied acidly.

"It seems that you have fallen even further than I ever believed possible; even for a Callaghan. You always were such a disappointment to your family…"

"Are you going to get to the point? I'm really getting rather bored." Paige told him, cutting him off.

"Staying here in my blood traitor of a brother's house Paige?" He asked. "I would like to say expected better, but I really didn't."

"You said yourself you hardly remember me, so how you can claim to know so much about my prospects I hardly know." She said.

"Well I would expect better from any Slytherin." He retorted.

"Didn't do quite so well yourself though did you Regulus?" She taunted. "You know, the whole getting killed by your own people. Rather ironic I suppose."

"You know nothing!" He shouted. "At least I had the courage to stand for the purity of our race." He said.

"You really believe that crap don't you?" She muttered "And courage Regulus? You don't know what the word means. You joined up because you were too cowardly to tell your mother you were afraid, and you died because you were too cowardly to do what they asked for what you believed in."

"You….You…. Traitorous…backstabbing…." He sputtered.

"You can stand here calling me names all day, but it won't get you anywhere. You know what I found out Regulus, all Slytherins our cowards, and you're certainly no exception. So is it cowardice that has kept you here in this room? Tell me Regulus why is it you don't venture downstairs to taunt your brother with these insults?" she asked.

"I can't." He spat.

"You can't." She said incredulous

"Yes. The magic of the painting doesn't work how it was meant to, I can't leave this canvas." He told her, his eyes still showing his hatred. Paige knew she should feel pity; that he had been trapped here alone since the day himself and his family had died. He wasn't real though; the painting in front of her was a memory, a whisper of the personality of the real Regulus Black. Even if he had been real, Paige did not think she would be able to work up all that much sympathy for him; he got what he deserved.

"Tragic." She said sarcastically "Probably for the best though. I have no doubt that Sirius if he knew you were here and able to freely move about the house would be trying to find a way to remove you from the house completely." She looked at the picture and saw the slight fear in his eyes and knew she was right in her assessment of him "And even after being here all these years, you'd rather stay all alone than face your own end. You always were a coward; and it seems you always will be."

Paige turned to walk away, but his voice stopped her.

"And you think you're not?" He asked a gleam of triumph in his eyes, as if he had just found a way to hurt her.

"No Regulus, I know I am." She told him her eyes once again meeting the grey of his own. There was no amount of depth like there was in Sirius's eyes; they were not as real. Perhaps it was because he was just a picture, but Paige knew that even if it were the real Regulus standing before her in this room, his eyes would not hold the same light Sirius's did, the same depths of hurt and of courage. It was something neither of them understood, but perhaps one day Paige would be able to.

"Then what are you doing here Paige? Surrounded by Gryffindors, Mudbloods, Blood Traitors like yourself?"

"It's not really any of your business. How do you know anyway? About the others in the house?" She told him.

"The house elf. He waffles. And really Paige: who am I going to tell?" He asked hollowly. Considering he was only a picture, she could feel the emotions in his voice. She had never really held a conversation with a portrait before; so had no idea as to whether they were all like this. Whether they were all such accurate and real representations of their subjects. Of course he was not as he would be were he alive; for his work for the Death Eaters would have fundamentally changed him. He would have not stayed the same spoiled child he had been to begin with; and in this picture still was; no he would have some real concepts of the world and the darkness in which he had involved himself. Perhaps it was better after all, that he was no longer alive; that his beliefs had not been tested, his innocence taken. For however hard Regulus Black may have tried to deny it, his mother had sheltered him from the truth of the world; and he was naïve. Just as she had once been.

"Probably no one, but it doesn't hurt to be cautious." She said. His eyes narrowed as if he could read her lies and he let out a laugh, it was short, harsh and cold.

"You're here, because you have no where else to go, because like always Paige Callaghan you took too long treading the line. He finally gave up on you clearly." He looked at her "Oh and you felt betrayed, you thought he actually saw something in you, by God I never counted you as stupid. Annoying, blind, boring but never stupid. Considering you come from a family of backstabbing traitors you would think you'd have some idea, but you were obviously as short sighted as always."

"Once again Regulus considering your insistence that you don't remember me, you seem to have such an insight into my life. Although how you manage that when you have none of your own, I can't imagine." It was low of her to use his death as her main staged of insults, but she didn't care "At least I'm still alive Regulus, clearly something you never managed to work out, self preservation was obviously never your strong suit. For example I'm a fully trained witch standing in front of your portrait and unlike the Gryffindors of this house I would have no compunction in destroying every last vestiges of your portrait. And yet for some unknown reason you're choosing to insult me and expecting me to just take it. Perhaps you should look back at your situation."

Regulus seemingly had no reply as he merely glared at Paige in anger and hatred.

"Don't test me Regulus." She shot as she walked to the door "I am and always will be a Slytherin." She said and then walked out of the door. "It just doesn't mean that I'm evil." She whispered.

Not really wanting to spend any longer on the floor with Regulus' portrait, she began to walk down the stairs, momentarily forgetting what it was that had driven her from there to begin with, her mind instead going over everything that had just happened. Regulus was dead; she had to keep reminding herself that. His portrait wasn't real. But that didn't mean his words weren't, as a little voice was saying in the back of her mind. She had never really known Regulus that well; but she had known of him. He had been the idol of quite a few in her year, a perfect son to his Slytherin family and went straight into the Death Eaters after he left school. After his death no one had spoken of him anymore. It wasn't because he had died; it was why he had died that kept people's mouths shut. Just because however he was a coward did not mean he wasn't evil. His words had been harsh and closer to the mark than she would like to admit; of course he was missing major chunks of the story, but those he had deduced were a little too close for comfort.

She was also more shaken than she would like to admit. That was not what she had been expecting to find in that room. To be honest with herself she would probably have preferred another man eating floor. Man eating floors were simple, easy to deal with. They didn't leave her with a dark feeling inside; they didn't force her to fight dirty against a man who had been dead for years. They didn't cause her to question her own decisions or what she should do now. If she really wanted to get rid of the man eating floor she could do, but she'd probably find it much harder to destroy Regulus' portrait. She shivered slightly from both the cold seeping through the hardwood floor, but also from the knowledge that she could do it. It was just a picture, she assured. Just a picture.

She had hardly noticed that she had made it down the six floors, and was walking to the dining room in an almost daze. She didn't notice either that other members of the house were up. It wasn't until she found herself the object of about four people's attention that she made herself pay attention.

"Oh there you are. Remus mentioned you were awake, and I was just contemplating sending someone to fetch you for breakfast. Not that I knew where you were staying." The voice of Mrs Weasley said appearing from the kitchen. Paige had not missed the disapproving glance from Mrs Weasley to Sirius, but she doubted it was because of any knowledge of where she actually was staying and more of the fact that Molly Weasley was unaware of it. Sirius shot her a look as if daring her to say something.

"Oh thank you. You needn't have troubled, I'm sure Sirius would have come and found me" She said her voice soft, her smile faintly mocking as she looked at Sirius. He returned her glare with a look of equal vehemence that she couldn't help but think back to Regulus. Sirius's eyes were so much stronger; there was none of the weakness, of the cowardly need to hide that there was in Regulus, no there was bold, brash intensity and courage. She looked back to Mrs Weasley and didn't miss the look of interest on her face which was quickly replaced at seeing Paige was paying attention again.

"Hmm ok then. Well breakfast will be ready in a few minutes if you would like to eat with us." Paige merely nodded as Mrs Weasley moved back to the kitchen. Paige strolled casually to a seat next to Sirius's her eyes never leaving his. She needed to ask him if he knew about Regulus, there was the selfish Slytherin need to see what would happen, but there was also the safety of The Order to think about.

"I need a word." She hissed, as she took a seat.

"You can have two: Go Away." He muttered back keeping his voice low to not alert the Weasleys sat next to him.

"Sirius, this is serious." Realising her unintended pun she caught his eye and couldn't help but smile; she saw the laughter in his eyes as well, although it was quickly shut down as he realised who he was laughing with.

"Alright." He muttered "Make it quick."

"Not here." She replied looking round warily. It was not for her benefit, but she didn't really think every one in the house needed, especially depending on what Sirius wanted to do.

"Fine." He said angrily, getting up.

He led her to the living room which she had played chess with Ron earlier. The fire was not burning as vivaciously as before, and was more a warm glow. It was welcome as the cold from her feet had seeped to the rest of Paige's body.

"What do you want?" he asked tiredly.

"Did you know?" She asked, returning back to the old Slytherin: don't let them know what you know too quickly.

"I'm not psychic Callaghan, you're going to have to be little more descriptive." He said.

"You surprise me. You; not psychic really?" She replied just as sarcastically.

"Cut the crap. What do you want?"

"On the sixth floor. There was you brother's room." She said.

"So?" he said disgustedly

"His picture Sirius. His picture is up there." She said.

"What Picture?" he asked confused. Clearly Sirius was unaware of the fact that his brother's portrait lay undiscovered on the sixth floor of his parents' house.

"There's a portrait of your brother up there. He can't leave the room apparently, but surprisingly enough he's more than a little bitter." She said.

"Great." He muttered "Another psychopathic family member. I'm sure you and he got along famously." He spat at her.

"Use your brain Sirius. If I'm here it means I'm no longer siding with the people your brother did when the portrait was painted. It means I'm a traitor. Which of course Regulus made no short time in telling me along with listing my many shortcomings." She said.

"He always was a spoilt brat." Sirius said.

"He was everything your parents wanted."

"Just as I was everything they didn't." He finished.

She had never really thought that Sirius would still feel bad about it, but then why wouldn't he? Regulus the favourite son, had got everything whereas Sirius who as far as he could see was standing up for what was right had to face his parents hatred, along with his family's disgrace. It was hard for her to make the decision to come here, to take that step towards what was good; she had not the courage to do that as a child. But Sirius had, and he would have paid for it, though she knew he didn't want her pity.

"Yes and look where it got him." She said remembering back to her own remarks about Regulus' death. Sirius nodded sharply and looked at her, for once there was less hatred, she knew it was only the sadness of having to remember, that despite everything they had still been his family, but she was glad that at least for a moment he could look past his prejudice.

"Look I just thought you should know. I didn't know if you wanted to speak to him or…"

"No." he caught her off his voice harsh "There's no need to dig up the past, if he can't leave his picture he can't cause any damage." He said and then left the room. She knew she had dug up memories that perhaps he had wanted to leave buried and if that was his wish then so be it.

Her mind wandered back to Regulus' room its faded beauty and lost majesty. Back to his portrait and the knowledge that for as long as this house stood, it would hang there unnoticed, undisturbed. She wondered if he would ever get bored of hanging there, of having nowhere to go and no one to talk to apart from a half mad house elf, who she doubted went up there more than once a year. The last remnants of the real Regulus. She shrugged it off; it didn't matter, not really, Regulus was dead nothing could change that. At that a small smirk graced her face; if he was dead he could hardly object to her borrowing his room for a time. A quick cleaning charm and it would be habitable and a silencing charm on his portrait behind the curtain would keep Regulus shut up. She was doing him a favour really; after all he wouldn't want such a beautiful room to go to waste, with the thoughts of a much better nights sleep in mind she walked into the kitchen for breakfast, not even thinking as she took a seat to the left of Sirius.