A few minutes later half of Orion's expansive file on the Gaunt family was spread across the coffee table, and something had knocked over the bottle of essence of dittany, which was seeping into a stack of notes. Orion didn't seem to mind or even notice, but he was flipping single-mindedly through another sheaf and always kept a backup file on the expectation that something would happen to the first, anyway. Nym had saved a stack of photographs from the liquid and was now flipping curiously through them as their subjects— mostly paintings— waved cheerfully at her.
Regulus was slumped back against the couch with his eyes half-closed. It had been an incredibly long night, and it wasn't over yet, so he was determined to enjoy a few moments of peace while his father and Nymphadora were otherwise occupied.
"Ah, here we are."
Regulus sat up and took the proffered piece of parchment. It proved to be a short biography. "Merope Gaunt," he read. "1905 through circa 1925. So she died about the time Mum was born. Your point?"
"She was the last recorded member of the Guant line."
"And. . . ?" Regulus asked, before his tired brain caught up with his mouth. "Wait a second . . . last recorded member?"
"Read it, why don't you?" Orion suggested with a slightly wry smile. He shifted his great-niece on his lap. "What've you got there, dear? Oh, I think that's supposed to be Salazar himself, although since its untitled and undated it's kinda hard to tell. . . ."
Regulus shook his head, likewise smiling slightly. At least there was one more recognized member of his family to whom Nymphadora was Meda's daughter and not just a little half-blood girl with a funny name. He let his father's spiel fade into the background and scanned the bio. "Merope ran off with a Muggle? That doesn't sound like the rabidly pureblooded."
"Meda's pureblood."
"But she's not foaming at the mouth, and anyway, she married a Muggle-born. She had some way of meeting him. And it says this Muggle walked off on her about a year after the marriage, and then she seems to have wasted away, which certainly doesn't sound like Theodore Tonks or Andromeda," Regulus added, nodding to Nymphadora.
"There was a theory among the Muggles that he'd married her because she told him she was pregnant with his child," Orion answered.
"I can't see anyone walking out on their own son, and anyway that's only a theory."
"True, but she might really have been pregnant. People— wizards and Muggles both— sometimes do incredibly stupid things and then refuse to deal with the consequences, after all. But since there's no recorded proof, I have to classify it as just a rumor," Orion answered softly.
"Yes?" Regulus asked.
"You're not thinking, kid."
"I'm too tired to think right now, Dad!" he exploded, and slumped back on the couch rubbing his temples. "Just tell me, please?"
Orion shook his head. "The baby. A half-blood, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, and someone without the last name Gaunt, which I suspect your Dark Lord would have been proud of had he had it."
"Oh." Now Regulus just felt stupid for not putting it together.
A slow, grim smile spread over Orion's face. "I think your Dark Lord is lying, certainly, but not about his Slytherin ancestry. I think it's his father's side of the family he's concealing. I think he's a half-blood. Tell me: have you ever heard his last name?"
"I don't think so."
"There you are, then."
"Oh." Regulus didn't know what else he could say, because suddenly his father's mild logic was making Bellatrix's passionate beliefs sound more stupid than they already did. The man was murdering his own kind, but doing it cleverly enough that no one even realized it. . . . "You know, I don't think he ever actually told anyone he's pureblood."
"Well, it's an assumption people would tend to make upon hearing he was descended from Salazar. You could make different one's with the other three founders, Godric Gryffindor's in particular is full of intermarriage with Muggles, and I think Blacks've got a little Ravenclaw blood— I wish your great-grandmother hadn't blown every Ainsley off the tree after the scandal with Victoria Ainsley or I'd know for sure. . . ." Orion seemed to realize he was on a tangent and shook his head. "But . . . well . . . Slytherin's always been different in that respect." He shrugged. "He's probably never said it just in case he meets a Legilimens."
"I doubt it. He's an Occlumens and a damn good Legilimens himself. It wouldn't surprise me if he just likes having the power of suggestion over people. Letting them assume the lies and then being able to prove he told them nothing but truth."
"Twisted," Orion muttered.
"You're one to talk," Regulus told him. "You let Sirius think for years that you agreed with everything Mum said. I'd still think you did if I hadn't caught you looking uncomfortable during some of her speeches on the way the world's going to the dogs."
"That just made things easier on everyone, Reg."
Everyone, or just you? Regulus couldn't help but think. Yeah, Sirius would have still left to get away from Mum even if you took his side on occasion, but still . . . you could have but you never did.
Fortunately, before Regulus could voice any of the accusations running around in his head, Nymphadora spoke up. "Who're you two talking about?"
"Sirius or the Dark Lord?" Orion asked.
"I know who my cousin Sirius is," Nym answered. "Is— is the other guy—"
"He's someone I hope you never meet," Orion answered with a note of finality in his voice. A real answer was clearly the last thing on his mind. "And if you're staying the night because we don't know where your parents are, we should have put you in bed first thing." He stood up, half-swinging the girl over his shoulder with a grunt. Anna mewed in alarm and leapt from Nym's arms to Regulus's as Orion made his way to the stairs.
Regulus sighed and stroked his cat. "It's been quite the night, hasn't it?" he mumbled to her. And he still had yet to decide what to do now that he knew the beliefs he'd adopted for his mother's sake were being championed by a charlatan.
A few minutes later, Orion came back down the stairs. "I haven't done that since you were her age," he muttered, rubbing his shoulder. "I think I'm getting too old."
"Well, if forty wasn't too old, why's fifty?" Regulus asked automatically, seizing the opportunity to think of something else.
"Don't remind me I'm nearly half a century," Orion told him. He started to pick up the Gaunt file, cursing under his breath when he found the stack of dittany-ruined notes. Orion's organizational skills were about on par with Sirius's, and their usual method was to shove everything into the same file and hope nothing fell out, so eventually he tossed the notes aside, shoved in the other papers, and leaned the file against the coffee table. Then with a flick of his wand, he cleaned up the dittany and glanced back at his son. "What's wrong, Reg?"
"What?"
"I said 'What's wrong?'" Orion answered. "You just look pensive, and believe me when I say that's not a normal look for an eighteen-year-old boy."
"Nothing!" Regulus answered, a little too defensively.
Orion arched an eyebrow.
His son sighed, decided to be honest, and then discovered that he couldn't find the words to explain the thoughts scattered in his brain or the enormous weight that seemed to be making itself comfortable on his chest. He eventually settled for, "A lot happened tonight."
"Ah."
Regulus glanced back to see that it was Orion's turn to look pensive and arched an eyebrow of his own.
"That means, I assume, that you don't want to tell me."
"I already told you most of it," Regulus muttered uncomfortably, rubbing his shoulder. Orion's healing spells had taken care of the scrapes and the bruising, but had left the dull ache of stiff muscles.
"You told me what happened, yes, but for the most part you sounded like a Daily Prophet report," Orion answered, running his fingers distractedly through his mostly gray hair. "You never told me what you thought of it. I'm going to assume, then, that you either don't know or don't want to talk about it."
It was the former, and something about the way he said it also implied Orion knew it. Regulus thought his father could be annoyingly perceptive sometimes.
A few more seconds passed in uneasy silence.
"Dad?" Regulus asked tentatively.
Orion glanced back over. "Yes?"
"Nothing. Just, well . . . I know you don't think what Mum thinks about the pureblood politics," Regulus answered softly, still fumbling for the right phrasing. "So . . . what do you?"
Orion sighed and reached up to his glasses. Regulus just knew he was going to avoid the question— after all, he'd picked up that particular telling habit from his dad. "Your mother's an idealist, Reg, and one of the reasons I don't agree with her is that I'm not."
"Daad. Please, just once, answer the question."
Orion sighed. His hand still didn't come back down from his glasses, but his frown was a thoughtful one. Regulus just hoped he wasn't thinking about how to best circumvent this conversation.
Finally, he sad quietly, "Our world's changing whether the aristocracy wants it to or not. The same thing happened to the Muggle one a long time ago. Yes, old money speaks for itself and it tends to be attached to old blood, and Mudbloods are just never going to have the precedent we do, but we can only slow it down." He shrugged. "I don't doubt all the violence, really, is just making it change faster. You can only hold people down so long."
"And you claim you don't know much about politics."
"That isn't politics, it's human nature, and I'm a historian," Orion answered with a shrug.
Regulus nodded vaguely and silence settled heavily back down on them.
After a couple minutes of it, Orion gently put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Those weren't the answers you were looking for, were they?"
"I . . . don't know." He shrugged moodily and toyed with his glasses. "Any idea what happened to Ted and Meda?" he added, more to change the subject that anything else.
"Not a clue," Orion answered. "You talked to her last."
"I wouldn't have asked if I had any idea," Regulus answered. "Still, we'd better start asking around. We want to get her home before Mum comes back, after all, and anyway, Meda's going to be frantic when she finds the girl gone."
"True, that," Orion agreed. "I'll ask a couple of people next time I'm in Diagon Alley."
Regulus nodded and yawned widely. Anna echoed him.
"And I think Nym's not the only one who needs some sleep around here," Orion added. "Get to bed, you and the cat both. It's nearly midnight, and frankly I could do with some myself."
As if she understood, Anna crawled onto Regulus's shoulder and began purring in his ear, and after a moment Regulus got to his feet. "All right, Dad," he muttered, pulling his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.
"Bed," Orion repeated. "It has been a long night after all."
Author's Note: Yeah, I know, comparitively short chapter, designed to answer a few questions and get the characters to bed before I get the plot rolling in the morning. Well, I am glad I don't have to pull out the lengthy explanation for why Orion had to be Orion. . . . Being nearly as paranoid as he is, I actually have one, after all, although to tell you the truth, Orion's been a slightly paranoid, not-too-sure-about-his-wife's-philosophy geneaologist since I got back into fanfiction after HBP. Anyway, I'm beginning to suspect I might be capable of regular updates for this one, but don't be surprised if I can't. Gwinna: You're right, of course. Nym has been a bit quiet . . . I promise she starts to open up next chapter, really. And thank you to everyone else who dropped me a line! Cheers! --- Loki
