Nymphadora had not really needed to be told that she didn't want to spend the bulk of the day alone with Kreacher at Grimmauld Place, what with the muttering the house elf had already started about what his mistress would think about the company. Orion had pretended to be puzzled about this and asked Kreacher why his thoughts on what went on his own house mattered so little.
One thing Kreacher was not was stupid, and he recognized the look Orion wore when he was teasing his sister or his wife. Still, he couldn't get angry with his master the way Walburga or Lucretia could and had stalked down to the wine cellar to sulk.
"I'm not going to be able to get him to do anything for the rest of the day, am I?" Orion asked mildly as the elf disappeared down the steps.
"The rest of the week, more like," Regulus told him. "The only person he'll let patronize him is Mum, remember? Everyone else he mutters at and disappears."
"And Wally patronizes everyone," Orion added. He looked over at a mystified Nym and grinned slightly. "Let's get to Diagon Alley, shall we? No use mourning over what you can't change."
Nym nodded hesitantly, as if she wasn't quite sure what Orion was talking about. Orion started to pick her up, muttered something about his back, and set her back down. She giggled. "You sound like Grandpa."
"Cygnus? Oh, you mean the Tonks one. I don't suppose you've ever met Cygnus." Orion shook his head and changed the subject. "The address's 199 Diagon Alley, Reg. Erm . . . do you think Nymphadora—"
"Nym."
"—should go with one of us?"
Before Regulus got the chance to reply, Nym crossed her arms sullenly over her chest and announced, "I know how the floo network works."
"Oh. Good."
Regulus lifted Anna off her usual perch on his shoulders and handed her to Nym. "Then you can take the cat."
Orion raised an eyebrow, and as Regulus straightened he explained, softly enough that she wouldn't hear and protest. "Sirius and I both ended up in Knockturn trying to get to Diagon at least once. If she does, Anna's more likely than a six-year-old to recognize and attack a Dark wizard."
"What have you been doing for the past six months to make you so suspicious?" Orion asked him.
Regulus shrugged. "Practically everything," he admitted, grabbing a handful of floo powder and stepping into the flames.
He emerged in the shop, followed quickly by Nymphadora and Anna and finally by Orion, who came out brushing the soot from his hair and muttering about how much he hated traveling that way. "Most of the records are upstairs if you still want to look for the Dark Lord's, Reg," he answered, glancing over at Nym. "Do you think she'll be fine if we let her wander the shelves on her own?"
"Dad, this isn't Knockturn," Regulus reminded him. He glanced around the shop, which was fairly small and lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, on which sat an assortment of old, leather-bound books. "She's not going to be attacked, and I'm going to leave Anna with her anyway. And from the looks of it, you probably know the owner fairly well, so if you asked him to keep an eye on her. . . ."
"Yeah, I really ought to. I'll meet you upstairs if you think you'll need my help."
Orion went off to find the clerk. Nymphadora had knelt down to pet what looked like a kneazle, which had emerged from behind one of the shelves to glower at the intruders on this library's peace. Regulus shook his head and started up the steps.
Upon opening the door he was attacked by what seemed to be a squadron of paper airplanes. The parchment they were made out of was old, soft, and yellowed with age, but whatever spell they had on them was a persistent one, and they continued dive-bombing him as he swatted them away.
Orion came in behind him. "Damn. I'd forgotten about the pamphlets."
"The what?"
"The pamphlets," Orion repeated. "Catch one and scan it; they'll leave you alone."
Regulus raised an eyebrow but snatched one out of the air and leafed through it. It was a pamphlet in support of a vote of no confidence in a Minister of Magic he'd never heard of, and dated 1843. "What?"
"From what I understand, in the old days people used to print them, spell them, and set them loose in Diagon Alley to force likely-looking passerby to at least look at them," Orion explained with a shrug. "I have no idea whether or not it was an effective means of propaganda."
"Why isn't the street swarming with them now, then? Considering the current political climate?" Regulus wanted to know. The pamphlet wriggled out of his hands, folded itself back into an aerodynamic shape, and joined its fellows in the rafters.
"I think the spell was lost in one of the London Fires during the Industrial Revolution," Orion answered with a shrug. "It never was particularly widespread, thank Merlin. Can you imagine what some of the papers floating around here now would say?"
Regulus started to roll his eyes, but when he thought of some of the things Bellatrix or Lucius might write down if they knew they could force people to read it, he shuddered instead. "It's probably still better than all the violence."
"I dunno. Words last," Orion pointed out. "Anyway, every couple of weeks or so I'll run into a funny little wizard up here chasing after them. He's determined to figure out how they work." He pulled down a massive book, groaned, and heaved it onto the desk.
"That thing has got to weigh at least as much as Nymphadora does," Regulus observed absently.
"Why do you think I was complaining that there's something wrong with my back?" Orion asked wryly. "I certainly haven't picked you or Sirius up in well over ten years. If I were you I'd start checking records about 1910. If he were much older than that, he would have started causing real trouble sooner."
Regulus nodded, and after a minimum amount of searching discovered that the records, dating back to about 1200, were stuffed into their shelves roughly in chronological order. That was, however, the only order they seemed to be stuffed in. Seventy-year-old Daily Prophets, political pamphlets, and various magazines and photographs dominated the shelves, although he did find a few copied lists of Hogwarts students and staff.
He'd worked his way painstakingly through 1935 before he thought he might have found something. "Hey, Dad?" he asked. "What was the name of the Muggle Merope Gaunt ran off with?"
Orion looked up from his tome and reached up to push his glasses back up his nose. "Erm . . . Riddle, I think. Why?"
Regulus handed him the list in his hands, and Orion scanned it. "I'm an idiot," he said finally.
"What makes you say that?" Regulus asked him.
"Well, among other things, I've trained myself to recognize surnames, and I'm probably as bad about asking for connection conformations as Slughorn is. It's part of my job," he explained. "For another thing, I went to school for a few years with Tom Riddle. He was a year ahead of your mother, prefect my first year, Head Boy my second. And he was an ass. A charming ass, though, the kind of kid that can get away with murder. . . ." He faded off and bit his lip.
"What?" Regulus asked.
"Nothing," Orion answered, shaking his head. "I'll just bet you ten to one that he did. Anyway, Slughorn kept saying that we'd be hearing big things from him after school and then he disappeared off the face of the earth. But actually . . . he just changed his name."
Regulus whistled under his breath.
"And I thought I knew what happened to all the Slytherin graduating classes when I was in school," Orion muttered. "I can't believe I forgot about Tom Riddle. As far as we knew at the time he was Muggle-born, and he was popular. There aren't a whole lot of Mudblood Slytherins like that."
He stared at the list for a few moments before handing it back. "Well . . . that explains a few things," he added under his breath.
"Not nearly enough," Regulus retorted. "I mean . . . if he was head boy there ought to be a bit more I can find about him in school, but. . . . That's about it."
"I don't know . . . it's amazing what you can dig out in a place like this if you take the time," his father said mildly.
"Dad, I don't know if I have the time!" Regulus exclaimed.
Orion blinked, and as if he knew the answer wouldn't please him, his hand rose automatically to his spectacles. "What makes you say that? It's not as if there's some kind of deadline you have, is there?"
Regulus sighed. He'd had the feeling that he'd have to confide this in somebody since he'd come to the conclusion himself. "I . . . I can't cast any of the Unforgivables, Dad. It seems like everyone else can . . . but . . . but I just don't hate anyone enough. That is enough to get me killed in the Dark Lord's ranks. I was half afraid Bella might be planning to do me in when she came around this morning, after the deal with Nym last night."
He glanced back up at his father to see Orion staring at him with his fingers bordering one lens and his lip bit. "I think. . . ." Orion said after a moment, "I think it might be time to tell me a little bit more of what goes on whenever you come home late."
"Not here, Dad. Not now. I will tonight."
Orion nodded.
It was fortunate he agreed to postpone the conversation, because as he nodded another voice floated up the stairs. "Orion! Will you get down here and figure out something to do with your great-niece for me!"
Both of them jumped, but after a few moments Orion smiled slightly. "That would be Augustus," he announced. "He spooks easily, but it should still be interesting to see what Nymphadora did to merit his hysterical attention."
☐☐☐
It turned out not to be so much what Nym had done but what Anna had, since the tabby had found herself at the top of one of the less stable bookshelves, sent a stack of papers flying to the ground, almost taking her with them, and gotten too frightened to move. Nym had pushed over a ladder to climb up and get her, but she'd toppled off it before she got halfway up. The thump had scared the wits out of the librarian.
Orion had calmed Augustus down with a stream of well-chosen words, healed the bruises on Nymphadora's arm, and Accio-ed Anna down from the shelf, all in a couple of minutes. (Anna, who hadn't appreciated being spelled, had scratched his shoulder and leapt over to sulk in Regulus's arms.) Then he made an executive decision to stop both his and Regulus's research now and take Nymphadora over to Florean Fortescue's for ice cream.
They hadn't allowed cats inside, so Regulus and Anna had taken a seat with Nym under one of the umbrellas and began attempting to get her to stop blushing. It hadn't worked by the time Orion came back with sundaes, and she tried once again to apologize for causing a scene.
He waved it off impatiently. "I don't suppose your mother ever fell out of contact with your cousin Sirius, did she?" he asked.
Nymphadora shook her head.
"Well, that was nothing to the sort of scene he used to cause, and he didn't even do it by accident like you just did. He did it when he was bored. Don't worry about it."
She nodded, but he cheeks were still a little flushed.
Orion grinned crookedly. "Reg, help me illustrate my point, will you? You've got to have at least as many embarrassing stories about your brother."
"Bella's wedding," Regulus supplied.
"Merlin, I'd forgotten about that," Orion muttered.
"Why?" Nym demanded. "What happened?"
"Sirius and your aunt Bellatrix— yes, we're still talking about the lady you met last night— never really liked each other, so I don't suppose it's any surprise, really, that he got bored at her wedding reception," Regulus started. "But instead of doing what a normal thirteen-year-old might have done in the situation— like experimenting with the wine— he spooked Anna so she fell in a barrel of it." He stroked Anna's ears. "You weren't very happy about that, were you? Well, she threw a fit," he added to Nymphadora, "and in an attempt to make sure he didn't get anywhere near her for the rest of the night, she climbed on top of the griffin rampant that had been put out as the centerpiece. It promptly fell over and shattered, gaining the attention of the entire reception hall, which I daresay is what Sirius wanted. I'm just glad Anna wasn't hurt."
Orion chuckled. "Cygnus was about ready to kill him over that one."
"So was I," Regulus answered. "He tried to drown my cat."
"I'm not sure that was his actual goal," Orion pointed out. "Getting the attention of everyone in the room was far more usual for Sirius."
"He did stuff like that all the time?" Nym asked, wide-eyed.
"Well . . . yes. He was easily bored, and when he was bored he never seemed to be able to see why anyone else should be able to concentrate," Orion told her. "Of course, Bella's wedding was incredibly public and he had to know his mum was going to skin him for it, so it wasn't half as bad as some of the things he could get up to at home. . . ."
Author's Note: Apologies for my month-long hiatus, but the first few weeks of school were hectic for me and this chapter just didn't get written. I'll try to update every two weeks at least until the end of October, when I may return to regular weekly updates (but as stated, no guarantees). Anyway, Mizz Mooney Luver: Wouldn't he have, though? I can't honestly tell you how long this particular tale is going to last, but it will be novel-length. While actually answering some of the other questions asked in reviews would give away the ending, I'd like to thank everyone for leaving them and ask that if you got this far, please leave a note; it really does make my day. Now, I've got to go give SupportSeverusSnape a brick to throw at Bella and help Mizz Moony Luver load the cannon. . . . Cheers! — Loki
