A/N: I'm back! I know the updates have been slow, but thank you to all those who have been keeping up with the story. I know it's been a long time coming.
Special thanks to and their kind words! You made my day:)
Sirius was proud to say that he never shied away from new experiences.
He supposed that being held for interrogation in the Auror office was a kind of a new experience.
"So," James sat in front of him, drumming his fingertips against the tabletop. Sirius figured that this laid-back, cool kind of a demeanor was James' interrogation face—and he was a little disappointed. Didn't Sirius teach him better during their years at Hogwarts? Little Prongsie seemed to be a bit too lenient with him. But remembering that O'Neal's usual demeanor resembled that of a terrified rat, Sirius schooled his expression into something a bit more… wary, at least.
"You're telling me that you were just following Leyre's orders," James continued. Sirius nodded vigorously.
"Honestly, I had no idea—"
"Yeah, I got that part," James interrupted him impatiently. "What I don't get is how you don't manage to realize that the imposter's not the guy you worked for every day for the last four years." Sirius cowered in his seat.
"Is Mr. Leyre mad at me?" he asked in a small voice.
"Never mind that now," James huffed. "But in case you're really curious, yes, he is quite mad at you. He's pacing behind the glass wall as we speak."
Sirius sighed pitifully.
"Is there nothing out of the ordinary? Nothing that you noticed?" James pressed. Sirius rocked back and forth in his chair, trying to think hard about how much of a wild goose chase he wanted James to be on.
"I don't know," he sighed. "Is there anything that I should have been looking for?"
"No, of course not," James said. "But… anything, really. Some kind of hair on his clothes that didn't match, some emblem on his bag, anything." He looked probingly at Sirius and Sirius looked into the air thoughtfully.
"I mean, I guess… he smelled a bit like… cats, you know? When he came into the office this morning, I thought I smelled… cats, and I thought it was just the rain. And I knew that Mr. Leyre didn't keep cats… so I thought maybe… y'know… he'd found a lady friend… but I didn't want to seem nosy or make him angry, so I didn't say anything… Should have I?"
"Cats," James repeated in disbelief. Sirius shrugged apologetically. James cursed.
"I'm sorry that I can't be of more help," Sirius said. "Really, I wish that I could do something—"
"That's fine," James said, his mind already drifting off to some other possibility that he should pursue. Sirius bit his lips hesitantly.
"I mean, do you have any idea who it might've been?" he asked. "It's just—completely unbelievable, you know? To think that you were with someone mental for two hours…"
James smiled humorlessly. "For someone who works in law, you're awfully faint-hearted, Mr. O'Neal."
"Oh, I just think it's better to be careful, with all the people I come across during work…"
"We don't know yet, but we'll let you and Leyre know if we find anything." James' face darkened. "As he's threatened us multiple times to sue us if we don't get to the bottom of this incident, I suspect that there will be regular updates."
Sirius nodded, counting in his head the minutes since he'd taken a sip of the Polyjuice potion. He should have enough time left, provided that James let him go soon enough… but he still had to take care of Leyre unconscious in his apartment, would need to confound him a bit…
And Regulus. It seemed that the Aurors haven't caught him yet, or James would've heard about it.
"If you don't mind, I should—talk to Mr. Leyre, and, y'know, take care of stuff…"
James nodded. "Alright. Thanks for your help." They stood up and James held out the door for him, following him out the interrogation room. Sirius was about to nod James good-bye when one of the Aurors approached them.
"Hey, Potter, I just heard about Lily, congratulations!" he said, patting James on the shoulder. James smiled brightly, for a moment looking like the James who'd roamed the halls of Hogwarts with Sirius.
"Thanks, we're both really pleased…" at Sirius/O'Neal's inquiring look, James brushed off the congratulations.
"My wife's pregnant for the second time," he said, his voice gaining the proud tone that James simply couldn't seem to help whenever the subject involved Lily Potter nee Evans.
"Oh!" Sirius said, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. Prongsie and Lily's having their second child, and he didn't hear about it? Him, Harry Potter's godfather? "When is she due?" he asked innocuously. James smiled.
"About seven months, we only found out few weeks ago." He patted Sirius on his shoulder. "Leyre's in the other room over there, I think he wants to talk to you."
"Thanks, thank you—and congratulations…" but before Sirius could congratulate his best mate fully, James disappeared into his office—presumably, to work on finding the Leyre imposter. Sirius felt his heart fall.
How can James not tell him about their second child?
His feet carried him to the main lobby of the Ministry, his ears vaguely aware of Leyre's loud, scratch voice telling him to stop. But Sirius couldn't be bothered to listen to his fake boss. Grabbing a handful of floo powder in the floo station, he gave the address of O'Neal's apartment and landed in his unkept fireplace.
O'Neal was still on his sofa where Sirius had left him, his left arm having slid off the cushion. Sirius prodded his shoulder with the tip of his wand. No response. O'Neal must be even more sensitive to sleeping droughts than Sirius thought.
"Confundus," he muttered, concentrating on the memories that O'Neal would have to have—going to work that morning, the Ministry, the interrogation—it would be fine if the memory was a little hazy—and coming back him exhausted. This should give O'Neal enough to work with. Confudus charm was never his strength, but Sirius thought that he'd done a decent enough job.
He checked his watch. Still about ten minutes until the Polyjuice Potion wore off, and Sirius could walk down the streets as Sirius Black again. Better start returning O'Neal's clothes back to him.
The hand that gripped his arm firmly led him through a labyrinth of corridors, most of them almost completely dark. Regulus lost count on how many turns they took, which direction they were facing (north, maybe?), but he supposed that he must be granted at least some leniency. He was with Alex again, for the first time in years. Her hand on his arm. His heart beat erratically in his chest, and Regulus couldn't tell if this was due to the danger of being caught or something else entirely.
But he couldn't see her, not really, with the darkness. All he could make out was a vague silhouette, a tall frame and almost silent footsteps. He didn't know how she managed to find her way with almost no light, but he didn't dare ask. He wasn't sure if he could talk right now. Abruptly, she stopped in her spot.
"We're going into the atrium now," Alex said. "I don't suppose you have a different set of clothes?"
"I have Sirius', I don't think they'll fit Leyre." Odd how he sounded almost… normal. Talking to her.
Was the first sentence he said to her after all these years to be about Sirius' clothes?
"Disguise will have to do," she answered. "Stand still." Without waiting for much response, she tapped her wand against his face. Regulus flexed his facial muscles reflexively.
"Now," she muttered, and, pushing open a door that he couldn't see, she dragged him into the light.
It was the busiest part of the Ministry, and they were immediately pulled into a throng of moving people who were intent on going about their business. Regulus had a hard time navigating through the crowd—he couldn't help but shirk away from everyone, afraid of being discovered, recognized, even though he knew that it was a ridiculous notion. He caught a reflection of himself against one of the tiles on the wall—Alex had given him a moustache, along with a set of bushy eyebrows and bulbous lips. He looked comical, but at least his face didn't resemble Leyre's wry expression.
"Here," she said, suddenly pulling him aside. Regulus stumbled into a small booth and Alex followed him inside. Before he could protest or say anything about their proximity, Alex turned to-the telephone? She dialed something and the booth began to move up slowly.
Regulus swallowed.
The ride in the telephone booth might as well have lasted a lifetime. Leyre was barely taller than Alex, which meant that they stood at an eye level of each other. Regulus looked down, unable to look at her fully in the face. Alex, in turn, turned sideways every few seconds, as if she were checking for some kind of a glitch in the contraption. Regulus didn't know what he should do—keenly aware of the middle-aged body that he occupied (Leyre was not the one for exercise, it seemed) and how she'd just—well, aided a fugitive in escaping from the Ministry officials (and breaking several security codes in the process, as Regulus doubted that the dark corridors they used were open to the public), exactly what could he do or say to make up for what he'd done to her, and what she'd done for him?
"Thank you," he finally managed hoarsely. Regulus immediately cleared his throat, looking away. Alex looked at him for the briefest of seconds before turning away.
"Sirius contacted me. He said that you were being reckless."
Regulus bit his lips. So Sirius had called her, was it? If he thought about it, that was only natural—Sirius had reservations about their moving their plan too quickly, and it wasn't as if Alex had sensed that Regulus had been in danger and dropped everything else to save him. But he still didn't like the fact that Sirius had contacted her to tell her that his little brother needed help.
"I see." And that was all he could say. The booth finally reached the ground level and Regulus looked out the glass windowpane. It was still raining.
It was still raining, but there was one man leaning against the telephone booth, his neck drooping to his chest, his hat worn so lowly that almost half of his face was concealed by tartan. Before Regulus could point out how suspicious that was—perhaps he was another ministry official—Alex burst out of the booth and tapped the man on the shoulder.
Something happened. Regulus couldn't tell what. The man's posture straightened to reveal a tall, broad frame barely hidden by the trench coat. He adjust his hat so that he could better see, and the face that was revealed made Regulus' heart clench most painfully.
Of all the people, why did it have to be him?
Henryk Lee's face broke into a wide smile when he saw Alex. He drew her into a tight embrace, rocking both of them side to side. That's what—what their reunion should've been like, except that it couldn't have been like that, because—because of what he did, not because of anyone like Lee. At least, that's what Regulus tried to tell himself, but watching the way Lee held her—the way the held each other—as if some kind of magnetic force pulled them together, and they couldn't help but be attached to each other—made his neck burn in the winter rain.
Judging from the look that Lee gave him when Alex wasn't looking, Regulus surmised that Lee wasn't particularly pleased to see him, either.
"You're safe," Lee stated the obvious. Alex pulled away from him enough to regard him within the arm's length.
"So are you," she said, stroking the hair that made its way from beneath the stupid hat. Regulus looked away, unable to bear it anymore.
Hearing from Sirius indirectly that Alex was seeing someone almost made sense to him. They broke up when they were sixteen, for Merlin's sake, and they were now twenty-one, twenty-two. People got over their teenage crushes, and considering the circumstances under which they broke up, Regulus knew that he had absolutely no right to foster foolish hopes, like that Alex would always care for him, and that she would never look at another person romantically. In fact, the opposite was much more likely (and natural) scenario and by all reason he should've been happy for her that she found someone, especially if that person was devoted to her. This much he'd told himself that night he was carried back from the Gaunt Place, telling himself to stop being so stupid, and that he was mature enough to wish her the best.
The reality of seeing her in front of him with Lee was a completely different matter.
Jealousy was the strongest beast, throttling his throat, running rampage through his veins. Impossible to resist, had it not been for remorse that recognized how he'd landed in his place, how they've all landed in this place—through his mistake, wrong decisions, youthful pride. But envy in turn threatened to swallow any tinge of remorse Regulus felt, envy at Lee, who was—he was loathe to admit—strong, and handsome, and intelligent, and kind (Regulus especially hated this part), and, lastly, loved by Alex. That much was apparent from a single glance at them.
But the rational side of him—the only side of him that kept him going through the years despite all the changes—told him to stop being stupid.
You wished, despite everything, that she still felt something for you. She doesn't. She's with someone else now. And now you know this yourself, you have to move on and continue. Continue hunting down the Horcruxes and destroying every last one of them.
The idea of Horcruxes brought him back into reality.
"I have to go find Sirius," Regulus said, looking at nowhere in particular. "I have to make sure that he's alright."
"We agreed to meet back in my house if anything happened," Alex said. "Do you have a wand to apparate, or—"
"It's fine," Regulus said, mortified by the prospect of having to borrow a wand from her in front of him. He rummaged through the backpack that he'd shrunk and hidden in one of Leyre's pockets and finally found the temporary wand that he'd borrowed from Sirius. Regulus paused.
"Where do you live?"
Alex's eyes gained a strange look, a guarded and wistful at the same time. Their eyes met for the first time and something in Regulus that he already thought was broken was shattered to pieces again.
"Devon," Alex murmured. "If you can't apparate there by yourself, Henryk can help you." Without waiting for a response (she's been doing that a lot), she disappeared with a crack. Regulus stared at the spot that she'd been moments ago, trying to comprehend what was going on. Next to him Lee stirred.
"I can manage by myself," Regulus said tersely, the memory of her house in the Muggle town and the week he'd spent there with her far too vivid in his mind. Without answering, Lee disappeared with another crack.
Regulus sighed and wiped the rain off his face. Beneath his palm he felt his own face, and looked down to find Leyre's clothes too short and baggy on him. It seemed that he'd transformed back to his own self without even noticing. Perhaps all the feelings that bubbled inside him, enraging every fiber of his being, was only the work of a potion.
He cursed, far too aware of the truth.
He still loved her, that was all.
When the Black brothers reunited a few minutes later, they felt an immediate bond between two foul moods. Regulus couldn't tell why Sirius was in a bad mood, and was in no condition to explain how seeing Alex made him feel, so the conversation went somewhere like this:
"Alright?" Translation: did the Auror office give you a hard time?
"James." Had to talk to James, and I had to lie to him, which I didn't like at all.
"Plan." You had to stick to the plan.
At this Sirius gave Regulus an annoyed expression.
"You can apologize for it later."
"I'll have to explain before I apologize for anything."
"That is tricky."
"Oh, why do I even—"
"Sorry, I think we're out of milk," Alex's voice carried from the kitchen. A few seconds later, her head popped from the doorframe. Her gaze was mostly on Sirius. "It shouldn't take too long to go buy it, but we could also have tea without milk—"
"Nonsense," Sirius said bracingly, standing up. "We'll go to one of the Muggle stores right now. There's got to be one nearby, right?"
"Yeah…" Alex said, looking uncertainly at Regulus for the first time. "Do you remember the way?" she asked quickly. Regulus for his part was taken aback by her reference to the time he'd spent at her house all the years ago—he didn't know if that was one of the off-limit topics or not.
To be honest, he didn't know anything anymore, really.
"I think so," Regulus replied quietly, not quite meeting her eyes.
"Let's go," Sirius said, practically pushing Regulus' back out of the house. For once, Regulus complied.
Being in her old home didn't ease his tension. The living room seemed to have barely changed since the last time he'd seen it. The sofa was different—Regulus remembered the sofa that he'd slept on—and some of the decorations on the wall were taken down, but atmosphere of the living room was the same—small but cozy, practical but not austere. When Regulus saw it for the first time, the first word that popped into his head was Muggle, that Alex lived in an utterly Muggle household with Muggle neighbors who didn't deserve her, and that when she graduated and started to realize her potential as a clever witch, she'd move on to better things, magical things with a magical place, but—all he saw now was the security of the house, the warmth that Sophia Wilson had attempted to give her daughter, the reluctant mother who nevertheless welcomed her daughter's prejudiced best friend, the mother of a friend whom he'd done nothing to aid. Shame hit him much more forcefully than rain and it hindered him from laying his eyes on any object for more than a second, feeling as though he was defiling everything around him by doing so.
"Nice town, this," Sirius said, kicking a pebble moodily. The winter air in Devon was much milder than that in London, and Regulus had to admit that this town felt—secure, despite the terrible childhood that he knew Alex had here.
"Yes," he answered, looking around. "It is." The sincerity in Regulus' voice seemed to strike Sirius, who regarded his brother with a bit more attention.
"You think?" Sirius raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Can't imagine you anywhere other than at Grimmauld place, to be honest."
Regulus ruminated on this for a while. "Y'know—before you—got disowned—"
"Before I ran away, you mean."
"That, too… I used to dream about… living somewhere remote. With a big library but not much else and… just away from everyone. I thought that would be a happy kind of life."
Sirius was quiet for a few seconds before saying:
"With her, you mean."
Somehow Regulus thought he could still play dumb.
"I don't know what you mean."
Sirius shrugged. "She was the only girl you were remotely interested in during your… pathetic preadolescent years."
Regulus decided not to take the bait on the preadolescent comment. "She was a friend."
Sirius raised an incredulous eyebrow.
"She was," Regulus insisted. "We got along. She didn't know anything about the Black family, and I felt like I could talk to her. It was probably the same with you and Potter, no? He didn't treat you like some dirty Slytherin." The name James Potter seemed to sober his brother substantially.
"How did it begin, then?" Sirius asked instead. Regulus paused as the traffic light changed, considering.
"Here," he said eventually. "It began here." And the more he thought about it the truer it seemed. Alex never said much about what her life was like back home, other than that she lived with her mother in a small Muggle town. Seeing the things that made her unhappy—they made him irrationally unhappy, and for the first time in his short life (fourteen, Regulus supposed caustically, was a good time to foster such feelings) he wanted to protect her from everything and everyone that made her unhappy. The memory of his time spent with her at Hogwarts, all that time conversing in the library, mixed irrevocably with the reality that she faced and, for the first time, Regulus felt as though he understood someone—as if he saw her clearly. Regulus shook his head. As if Alex was ever someone who needed protecting… and he didn't know at that time that he would end up being the worst offender in her memory.
Sirius kicked another stone in apparent dissatisfaction and Regulus decided that if he let Sirius continue in his gloomy contemplation any further, they would end up being the worst kind of guests.
"What happened?"
Sirius was like a dog who, at the first encouragement, came leaping toward a bone. "LilyispregnantwithasecondbabyandJamesdidn'ttellmeeventhoughhe'sknownforafewweeks."
It was thanks to the childhood they spent together that Regulus was able to discern all the words. "I see," he said merely, not quite sure how he felt about his brother's relationship with James Potter just yet. On the one hand, Potter was a giant prat, still was probably, and egged his older brother on in his worst plans—denouncing the "Slytherin agenda," running away from the family, etc. And yet—he looked after Sirius when he needed a place to stay. During the war. Managed to keep him alive. No mean feat, Regulus knew, knowing how much Sirius loved danger. Regulus knew that, despite his remonstrance of Regulus' recklessness in destroying the Horcruxes, Sirius enjoyed the excitement that this new mission presented to him, and that he would stick around until the end, if not for Regulus' sake, then for his own.
"I see?" Sirius said, outraged. "My best mate didn't tell me, the godfather of his first child, that he's expecting another child, and all you can say is I see?"
"If Potter suspects you of doing something illegal and that's why he hasn't said anything, then it only reflects poorly on him," Regulus said coolly. "If he were a true friend he should've trusted you, whatever his suspicions were."
Sirius looked wearily at him for a few seconds, as if he was looking at a complete stranger.
"Since when do you know so much about friendships?"
"Oh, I don't know," Regulus said, opening the store door with a heavy heart. "I suspect that botching up a relationship with one friend you have really teaches you things."
Sirius patted Regulus on the head, as if he were a pet dog.
"Poor Reggie," he said. "Do you want chocolate biscuit?"
Sirius received a swift kick in the shin for a response.
Lee was pouring tea into large mugs, looking like he belonged in the house. And Regulus had to concede that Lee did—something about the way he moved said that he was as much a big a part of this household as Alex was, that he knew his way around the house like the back of his hand. He never would've looked at this house and thought Muggle, and that it was beneath Alex. He never would've tried to change Alex or her ways. He just found his way into her life, trying to be there for her in any way that he could. Regret and jealousy battled inside Regulus' mind, and he didn't know if he hated Lee, or if he truly hated Lee.
"Thanks for all this," Sirius said amiably, probably aware of Regulus' murderous mood that he didn't quite manage to conceal. Stop it, Regulus scolded himself. The only thing worse than being in the same room with Alex's current—Regulus didn't even know what the fitting word was here—boyfriend? Companion? Lover? –was being in the same room with Alex's current whatever, and showing that he was in a bad mood.
"It's not a problem," Lee said easily. Regulus accepted the cup that he offered him, muttering a low thanks under his breath.
"Thanks for coming, by the way," Sirius said, also accepting a cup. "I know I contacted you two at the last minute, but I felt like—"
"It's fine," Lee interrupted. "It was our day off anyway." Sirius nodded. At this moment Alex came down from upstairs, having showered the rain from her hair. Regulus stared. She was in sweatpants and an old green sweater, and the hair was in disarray from drying haphazardly with a towel. The very picture of domestic carelessness. And she never looked lovelier.
Sirius caught him staring and elbowed him in the ribs, hard. Wincing, Regulus retracted into the sofa, taking care not to spill the tea.
Too late.
"So what's the verdict?" Alex asked, sitting down across from them. She looked between Sirius and Regulus, waiting for them to respond.
Sirius turned to look at Regulus as well. "What did the young Crouch kid say?"
"I don't know how much you know—" Regulus began, addressing no one in the room in particular.
"I told them everything," Sirius said.
"Everything?" Regulus said, feeling ins unsteady temper flare. "I told you that this is all—"
"Dangerous stuff, yeah, but if you don't recall, we were all Order members, we're made of some stronger stuff—"
"I'm not just talking about physical danger, you prat, you know that they can get implicated in this if any of us is ever caught—"
"So we'll make sure not to get caught—"
"We almost got caught in the Ministry—"
"Escaped with a nick of time, didn't we? Have more faith in—"
"This is just the beginning, you know that there's Azkaban, and Hogwarts—"
"Would you stop being such a drama queen, Reg, it's not like you're going to do them all alone anyway—"
"Me? You're calling me a drama queen?"
"BOYS!" Alex yelled, looking tired, and—could it be?—faintly amused. "As much as I know how much you two love to argue… I think Regulus is right to want to finish this as soon as possible."
Sirius huffed. "Not you, too."
"It's not just about getting an unpleasant business out of the way," Alex said carefully. "You know how I often have to travel, with work and everything, and run into some people—long story short, there are more people than you know who would love to see Voldemort back."
"They don't know about the Horcruxes, do they?" Sirius asked quickly. Alex shook her head.
"But the thought's already there. What if they manage to contact one of the Death Eaters who knows something, and begin to put things together? It's too risky, letting them lie dormant wherever they are, and it could be tomorrow that one of them falls into the hands of a wrong person."
"But they're well-hidden," Lee spoke up for the first time since the informal meeting began. "One was found in a cave on a cliffside. Another in an abandoned house in a Muggle town. It's unlikely that someone's just going to stumble onto one." Was Regulus imagining things, or did Lee look like he was chastising Alex?
From Alex's pursed lips, it was clear that they had the conversation before.
"Hear, hear," Sirius said.
"I want to get this over with," Alex said quietly.
"I know you do," Lee said, laying his hand on hers. "But you're pushing yourself too hard to do this." Alex looked away, and it was only due to the years that Regulus had known her that he could read the expression on her face.
She looked guilty. And apologetic.
Why?
"We should take our time," Sirius volunteered. "We already have two Horcruxes already, and no practical way to get rid of them. Maybe we should focus on obtaining something that can destroy a Horcrux."
"There's always Fiendfyre," Regulus murmured. Sirius wrinkled his nose.
"I know you don't like Dark magic—" Regulus began.
"Really, now do you imagine that you're going to fight Dark magic with Dark magic?"
"As long as we are able to contain the fire, it shouldn't be a problem, should it?" Lee interjected, sounding infuriatingly reasonable even though he was agreeing with Regulus. "That shouldn't be difficult, no?" He looked at Alex for confirmation, but Alex hesitated.
"It's just—the fire will destroy the object," she said quietly. "And the ring—"
"Alex—" Lee began to protest.
"I think the ring's one of the Deathly Hallows," Alex continued, looking straight into Regulus' eyes for the first time.
Regulus' head was in jumbles. Partly due to the gaze from her eyes, but also—Deathly Hallows? That old legend? He remembered reading it as a child, and rereading it when he and Alex were researching in the library, trying to find out more about her father, but—
That was a children's story.
His skepticism must've shown on his face, because she stood up anxiously and retrieved the ring from—the drawer of the side table.
Sirius raised his eyebrow. "A bit too public a place to store Voldemort's soul, don't you think?"
She didn't appear to be listening. "Look at the mark on the stone," she said instead, passing it to Regulus, still looking earnestly at his face. Regulus took the ring dumbly and looked closely at the dulled surface. There was a bit of geometrical shape, but really—
"It's the mark, I know it is," Alex continued. There was an odd note to her voice, something trembling, that Regulus didn't know how to recognize—was he allowed to do such things anymore?
"I suppose it could be," Regulus conceded. "But I also wouldn't put it past Gaunt to have scratched it on there himself, you know? To argue that he had connections to the Peverell family."
"And risk defacing a family heirloom?" Alex said in the same desperate tone. "That's unlikely, don't you—"
"Alex," Lee repeated, and the firmness in his voice stopped her this time. She retreated into her armchair, looking apologetic again.
"Sorry," she muttered, and looked down at her mug.
"What about the locket?" Sirius, who'd been observing the exchange silently thus far, asked, probably trying to lighten the mood. "Anyone against destroying that blood-sucking maniac's locket?"
Regulus rummaged through his backpack again, glad to have reasons to divert his gaze to someone other than Alex, who seemed to have retracted into herself, and Lee, who was apparently having harder time than Regulus in disguising his murderous feelings toward him.
"Not at all," he said, pulling out the locket from the bottom of the bag. All four of them stared at the shiny metalwork for a while, aware that it contained the possibility of the death of millions, tears of children, permanent separation of families and friends.
"Let's get on with it, shall we?" Sirius asked briskly. Regulus looked confusedly at his brother.
"Exactly what are we supposed to do?"
"Cast the fire," Lee said. "And Alex can—if you're ready, that is," he added quickly, noticing the look on her face. Regulus saw it fully for the first time as well. It was nothing short of heartbreak.
But she merely nodded and Regulus told himself again that he had no business inquiring.
"Make the curse strong," Alex said quietly to the ground. "It has to last a while." Regulus nodded. Sirius dangled the chain a few feet away from him, looking, for the first time, a little apprehensive.
"Ready?" Regulus nodded and cast the familiar curse.
Before the fire could grow and spread, however, a golden globe enveloped the flames, containing the massive, angry flames underneath its smooth surface. The impermeable layer shimmered slightly as it hung suspended in midair, containing the destructive force within its boundaries. It took Regulus a few moments to realize that it was Alex who had cast this charm—and without a wand, it seemed. Her brows were furrowed in concentration. The shield glowed more brightly, as if reflecting her efforts.
"What is that?" he wandered out loud, unable to help it.
"The mark of Wymond," Lee answered, observing Regulus' face. "Don't you remember? It saved you once before, I think."
His mind raced back all the years ago, trying to figure out what Lee was saying. And then it hit him—Halloween. Ten years ago. The pumpkin pastries, Edge, the sixth-year Ravenclaws and—how Alex somehow pushed them into the staircase from five feet away. The beginning of their friendship.
The mark of Wymond, Lee said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. A few things began to click in Regulus' mind.
The shield ran in the family, on Alex's father's side.
Lee knew who Alex was, who her father was, when he arrived at Hogwarts.
The Wymonds were associated with the legend of the Conservato, the silly superstition about the Darkhiders…
But before his mind could make the final leap, the flames flickered out inside the globe and ashes fell on the tea table. They all let out a long breath that they'd been holding, feeling the pungent smell of burnt metal attack their olfactory senses.
"Is that it?" Sirius asked quietly.
"That's it," Alex confirmed. And that was that.
After the destruction of the locket, none of them seemed to be able to find the motivation to continue the discussion on their future strategy and Sirius decided that they'd overstayed their welcome in Alex's house despite her invitation to them to stay for dinner (presumably, he'd noticed Regulus squirming in his seat). Instead they ended up at a kebab joint near his flat in London, hunched over the greasy surface of a long table. Regulus watched Sirius wolf down the sandwich, not having much appetite on his part.
"Who's Peverell? And what's the ring got to do with it?" Sirius finally asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Regulus sighed.
"The three brothers in the legend—they're thought to be part from the Peverell family. You remember the legend?"
"Vaguely."
"The second brother asked Death for a gift—a stone that'll resurrect a dead person."
"And Alex doesn't want to destroy the ring because—oh," Sirius paused, looking forlorn. Regulus swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.
"She lost her mother," Regulus said quietly, adding in his head, because of me. If I had been better, she wouldn't have lost so much…
"And many others. We all did," Sirius said quietly, looking less hungry that he'd seemed before. Regulus sighed.
"Why wouldn't Henryk let her use the ring, if she's right about it?" Sirius asked. Regulus shrugged.
"Who knows," he said. "But the legend says that the second brother was driven to madness—the stone can't actually resurrect the dead, you know. It was a pale imitation of life, and—it's not good for the living."
Sirius seemed to consider this.
"Y'know, he's been good for her," he said randomly.
"What?"
"Henryk. There was a time—I dunno much about it, to be honest—when Alex was a bit obsessed about defeating Voldemort. Almost—possessed by the idea, really. Even Mad-Eye Moody was scared of her. And Henryk sort of… brought her back into reality again. Helped her remember that there's life outside the war, y'know? That she had to live for peace, not for—death and destruction."
Regulus stared at his glass of water but didn't respond.
"I'm just saying," Sirius said, trying to lighten his tone. "Today at their house, it sort of seemed like… she was pulled into that way of thinking again, and Henryk wasn't really pleased about it."
"You contacted her, Sirius."
"Because I was worried that you were getting to obsessed with this thing!" Sirius yelled defensively. "Okay, maybe I wasn't thinking too much about her, and that's my fault, but—" Sirius sighed. "I don't think some people ever get over this, Reg. And we're supposed to be the good people, you know? We should get to live our lives."
You should. Not me.
"You will, Sirius," Regulus said, thinking about Alex and the desperate, heartbroken look in her eyes. "You will."
