After enduring an obscene amount of groveling from Vernon Dursley, Regulus thought he almost knew how Voldemort must feel while among some of his more pathetic followers. In that case though, how could he stand it? Regulus withheld his desire to immediately cast a cleaning spell on his muggle jacket the moment Vernon patted it. He had obviously mistaken his amusement over Sirius' interruption as having finally worn him down and gained some approval.

As he opened the car door he hoped Vernon might take a hint and finally call an end to the charade for the evening. Unfortunately, he underestimated his brother who immediately jumped into the driver's seat, eliciting a squeal from his wife followed by a moan from 'Padfoot'.

"What happened?" Regulus asked Maliah after watching her jump out of the passenger's seat a moment before Padfoot more or less fell out onto the pavement.

Maliah let out a couple of rather delicate sounding sneezes for Vernon's benefit, as Padfoot made his way into the grass and began roughly rubbing his eyes among the foliage.

After her sneezing fit, Maliah held up a small bottle of perfume, "I didn't mean to get it into his eyes," she answered regretfully.

"Serves the mutt right for not having any more discipline than that," Vernon answered boisterously. "The first call I'll be making when I get inside is to animal control-"

"Padfoot!" a lady wailed from a neighbor's yard, causing Sirius to sit up though unable to keep from squinting and blinking more than usual.

Regulus saw Maliah shift uncomfortably and knew she felt guilty for spraying him. His conscience wasn't terribly bothered though - anything was worth keeping him from realizing who she was. He was thoroughly regretting this little venture to check on James Potter's son just then.

"I've been looking all over for you!" the old lady who was dressed in a floral bathrobe and slippers chided as she made her way towards them. "I only let you out to do your business you foolish animal. You weren't supposed to run off. Did he leave an excrement here?" she asked as she casually brandished a little shovel and baggie from her pocket, eliciting a simultaneous cringe from both Regulus and Maliah.

Regulus evaluated the woman but found he had no idea who she could be. The only females in the Order he could remember had been killed before Voldemort's downfall.

"I didn't see," Regulus answered as he tentatively scratched Padfoot's ears, "Though if I may make a suggestion, there have been studies to show that having dogs neutered helps to keep them from running off." Regulus smirked slightly when he had to immediately withdraw his hand to avoid being bitten.

"You had better get that mongrel under control before I do call animal control!" Vernon shouted in outrage. "You can't just let him go about biting and pooping anywhere he pleases. I'll have you know he actually went inside my house and ate off of my table!"

"I'm sure she won't allow that to happen again," Maliah interrupted before throwing in yet another too-delicate-to-be-real sneeze. "I'm sorry, I simply can't handle being around him any longer," she told them. Turning quickly to Vernon, she remarked, "Please thank Petunia for me. Everything was wonderful," she said as she retreated back to the car.

When Regulus finally managed to extract himself from the rather odd group gathered in the yard of number four, he found Maliah resting an elbow on the windowsill as she covered her face with a hand.

After backing the car out of the driveway, he placed a hand on her knee to get her attention.

"That was a disaster," she remarked, causing him into burst into laughter.

"You didn't even see the best part. Sirius in all of his doggish glory, jumping onto the table and polishing off the rest of the roast. He's never been one to do anything halfway," he said fondly. His smirk widened as he considered something else. "Since you mentioned disasters, can we talk about your eclectic blend of accents this evening?"

"What?" she asked in surprise. "It was American."

"Yes... West coast, southern belle. New England. It was like taking a tour of the continental U.S… with some outliers. I think I may have recognized an attempt at Atlantic Canadian at one point."

"You did not," Maliah said with a dismissive wave. "More importantly, what are we going to do about Harry?"

Regulus shook his head. He didn't know what to make of the Potter boy when he first saw him. He looked so like his father, though to his credit, he didn't act like him. And regardless of personality, no child deserved to be left in a home where they were so obviously resented if not outright abused. He could not understand Sirius' complacency to leave the boy there, even less so now that he had met the appalling family he was being forced to live with.

Unfortunately, they really weren't in a position to do anything about it. It was evident that Sirius had access to Harry and could "rescue" the boy himself if he felt inclined to do so. One of Maliah's siblings might have been able to look into the situation, but if anything like child protective services existed within the wizarding world, it was outside their scope. He also much preferred to leave the Ministry out of it, for all of their sakes.

"We shouldn't have come," Regulus concluded.

"How can you say that?" Maliah objected. "Did you see how much he jumped when I touched his arm? And all of the silent conversations between him and his uncle. If anything, we should have taken him with us when we left!"

Regulus couldn't help but laugh a little at that. "What do you think Sirius would have done then?"

Maliah's scowl deepened. "Maybe you should talk to him about it."

"You must know he will be furious if he knows I went anywhere near his godson."

"But if you could reason with him-" the rest of her remark was replaced by a shriek as something huge jumped onto the hood of the car. The black figure, which Regulus identified was Padfoot, lowered his face to glower at him with his teeth bared.

"He seems reasonable, doesn't he?" Regulus remarked.

The red halo surrounding Padfoot's fur changed from red to green. Regulus slowly released the brake, coasting along as if there wasn't a giant dog blocking his view. Maliah gave him an occasional direction as she was better able to see the road ahead.

"Just what are you intending to do?" she asked when he made no attempt to pull over.

"I'm trying to think like a rational person. It's a huge dog, and I'd be mad to get out and try to 'reason' with an animal, especially when it could technically have rabies or something. I should be trying to throw him off."

"There used to be a veterinary clinic not terribly far from here. If nothing else, maybe drive towards it and he'll take your threat from earlier more seriously," she advised as she wracked her brain for the proper directions.

"How could you possibly know that?" Regulus asked her in bewilderment. He knew perfectly well that she had not grown up anywhere near Surrey.

"There's an amusement park we used to go to when we visited my cousins-" she began to explain.

"Never mind," Regulus said, sorry he'd asked. "We can relive your muggle childhood after we ditch the mutt."

He made a sharp turn to the right. Both of them winced at the sound of claws scratching against the paint as 'Padfoot' managed to cling on. Before he had recovered though, Regulus made another sharp turn onto the next street. Unable to hold on this time, Padfoot more or less rolled from the car's hood to the pavement and back up to the grass before burying his face in the ground and covering it with his paws.

He was disturbed a moment later by Tonks who landed her broom beside him.

"Did that go as you hoped?" she asked cheekily.

"Go away," he answered after he reluctantly changed back into his human form, welcoming a slew of new aches and pains as he did so.

"Well alright, but as Remus has taken over for me on guard duty, I now have the night free. Since you seem intent on following muggles, I thought I should at least offer to give you a ride," she remarked, indicating her broom.

"They are not muggles," he answered, causing Tonks to laugh.

"You're just full of conspiracy theories tonight, aren't you? If not muggles, who are they?"

"It's-" he began as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Deciding against telling her about his real theory, or even of Regulus' survival for that matter, he tugged at his hair as he answered instead, "I just have a feeling about it. Let's follow them." Noticing that Tonks was leaning towards his face and squinting to better see him, he added a gruff, "Please," causing her to back off slightly.

"You really don't know what happened to them? Remus asked the next morning as he poured himself and Sirius a cup of tea. Sirius ignored the tea in place of continuing to nurse a bottle of Firewhisky.

"They completely disappeared. We searched all over." Looking at Remus carefully, he added, "There's no way a muggle could have vanished like that."

"You think they were some of Voldemort's?" Remus asked with visible concern.

"No, nothing like that," Sirius reassured quickly, "Or maybe it was." At Remus' questioning look, he added, "I don't know. Maybe we just missed them… or maybe it was Regulus."

"Regulus," Remus repeated. "What on earth would he be doing there?"

"I don't know, but there was a familiar scent… I'm almost certain it was him."

"Who would have been with him?"

Sirius shrugged, "It's been fifteen years. I guess even he could have found someone in that time. He could be married by now," he surmised, though the thought of Regulus being married passed as quickly as it came. "He wouldn't be though. He's never cared about anyone but himself."

Remus scratched the back of his head as he observed his oldest friend, "Is that really a fair statement?" he asked. "It's been nearly twenty years since you've properly known him."

"What am I supposed to think about him? He's allowed me to believe he was dead all this time."

To that, Remus had no answer. "What did Harry have to say when you spoke to him?" he asked after a moment. Sirius gave him a dark look in response. "Please tell me you spoke to him after."

"To tell him what exactly? 'That I'm sorry you're stuck with muggles you hate but your two best mates are moving in with me?' That should cheer him right up, shouldn't it?"

"Ah. And when is Hermione expected to be here?"

"Tomorrow," Sirius answered irritably.

"And Harry? Has there been any indication of when he can move in?"

"Whenever Dumbledore pulls his head out of his arse," Sirius answered in a huff before grabbing his bottle of Firewhisky and vanishing from the kitchen, leaving Remus to stare after him.

"So, where did you two go yesterday?" Carina asked over breakfast the next morning.

"Just to dinner," Maliah said casually.

Too casually, Regulus observed. As rare as it was for him and Maliah to go out without their kids, when they did, it usually called for a bit more enthusiasm than 'just to dinner'. To be fair, it was a little disappointing to know what could have been a romantic evening out with his wife was spent with the Dursley's...

"It sounds like you had a great time," she smirked.

"Do you really want details?" Regulus asked.

"I don't," Caelum said at once, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Carina was more contemplative but elected not share whatever it was she was thinking.

"Have the two of you finished packing?" Maliah asked.

"Yes," Carina confirmed as Caelum sighed. "Why can't Kreacher do it?"

"Because you are perfectly capable of doing it yourself."

"Do you really want Kreacher going through your stuff?" Carina asked.

"He'd do it anyway," he shrugged.

"There is a way to prevent that," Regulus remarked. Caelum could give Kreacher an order to stay out of his room, but that would mean picking up after himself. Cleanliness was unfortunately a low priority for his eleven-year-old son.

"Kreacher likes being helpful," Caelum reasoned.

"There is a difference between him being helpful and him enabling you to be lazy," Maliah answered. "As soon as you finish breakfast you are to pack."

"Remind me, why are we going on holiday in July?" Carina said as Caelum sulked. "We always go in August."

"We're hoping for less of a crowd," Maliah lied. The truth was, if they didn't go now, they probably never would. There were a lot of difficult decisions to be made in the near future: Would they move farther away from Britain, or hunker down in the relative safety of their home in France? Would the kids return to Beauxbatons? And perhaps most pressing, when and how would they tell the kids about Voldemort's return? For better or worse, he had a feeling that conversation coming sooner rather than later.

"It isn't crowded anywhere we've ever stayed," Carina said bemusedly. "And we always go in August, right after my birthday… is there another reason we're doing things differently this year?"

"Why would you think that?" Maliah asked.

"The two of you are constantly whispering to each other and stop the moment either of us walk in," she indicated herself and Caelum. Her eyes came to rest on him. "Will you please tell us what is really going on?"

Regulus exchanged a look with Maliah and a silent agreement passed between them.

"There is no reason to get overly anxious," Maliah began.

Regulus was aware that Carina's eyes remained on him. He was the one she had asked, after all, and she knew that of two of them, he wouldn't attempt to sugarcoat the information.

"Voldemort is back," Regulus said bluntly. "We wanted to have more information before we told you. We do not know many of the details - but we do know that he has returned to a human body."

"How do you know?" asked Caelum finally, his eyes wide.

"There have been signs that it was coming," Regulus answered as he fumbled with his left sleeve. "I tried to ignore them for a while but – cannot do that any longer." He stretched out his arm to show them the dark mark. It was no longer the nearly invisible scar it had been for as long as either of them could remember. It was jet black and grotesque and impossible for either of them to look away from.

Caelum moved closer for a better look. Carina, who was always more difficult to read, regarded it with a neutral expression from her seat across the table. "Does it hurt?" she asked after a moment.

"Not as much as it used to," he said, pulling his sleeve back down over the mark. Covering it up made is seem less intrusive somehow.

"Keep in mind, Voldemort doesn't know either of you exist," Maliah reminded them. "So, while there are extra precautions we will take, as I said before, there is no reason for either of you to be overly anxious about this right now."

Much of the rest of the day was spent answering their kid's questions, reviewing possible scenarios and discussing the added precautions they all should be taking from now on. It was with some reluctance that Regulus announced he needed to leave so he could test the protections placed on their vacation home. He nearly declined Maliah's offer to go with him, until he remembered he'd just harped up on all of them about never going out alone in public.

There was little reason to refuse anyway. The protections on their home in France were more than adequate to keep their kids safe from any potential intruder while they were gone and Kreacher would be there in case anything unexpected happened.

Harry sat in front of the window in his bedroom with his leg bouncing in agitation.

How could Sirius have been inside his uncle's house, and not even bothered to talk to him? He had been out of contact with everyone since leaving King's Cross Station. While he desperately wanted information, even a friendly greeting would have been a nice change to the resentful looks he had come to expect from the Dursleys.

Someone knocked loudly on his door once before forcing it open. His aunt Petunia walked in carrying a pile of clothes which she dumped onto his bed.

"Put all of this away neatly so it doesn't wrinkle," she instructed him irritably.

"Er- what is it for?"

"To wear, you foolish boy," his aunt snapped.

"For who to wear?" Harry asked bemusedly. Noticing the items looked to be new but much too small to fit his elephant-sized cousin, he asked doubtfully, "Are they for me?"

"Why else would I have asked you to put them away in your room?" she sniffed.

"But, why-?" he began to ask as he had never received anything new from his aunt before.

"Don't ask questions," she bit out before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

Harry remained seated at his perch by the window, staring at the pile of clothes with disinterest. New clothes wouldn't change how his neighbors would look at him. They certainly didn't mean his aunt and uncle cared for him. They meant nothing beyond the value his uncle placed on sealing a business deal with Mr. Eddings.

He was still being held captive in the muggle world, away from where he was anyone remotely valued as a person. Being unable to lash out at anyone else over his situation, he resentfully glared at the pile of clothes as if the new jumpers and trousers were somehow responsible for his current situation.

Only when the house finally became quiet, did Sirius leave the company of Buckbeak in his mother's bedroom. He might lie to the others but he couldn't deny to himself that he was avoiding everyone. The Weasley's had overtaken his house a week ago. Hermione had arrived shortly after lunch. The Order members were in and out.

He had spent twelve years in prison and another two on the run. There were times he would have done anything for company then, but now that he had it in excess, he would prefer to be alone.

Realizing he hadn't consumed anything solid since breakfast, he made his way down the stairs hoping no one under the age of eighteen or with red hair would be in the kitchen. As he reached the lower landing, he managed to trip over his loose-fitting robes and instinctively grabbed the nearest object to steady himself.

He started to release the object, and was repulsed to find it was a mounted house elf, who nose remained in his hand, having broken off from its host. Paying closer attention to the elves, he noticed something he hadn't given much thought to before now. Kreacher wasn't there.

Not overly concerned with repairing the house elf, he carried the nose down the rest of the stairs with him and into the kitchen.

He was no more surprised to find Remus sitting at the table looking over a blueprint of the Ministry than he was to find a plate of Molly's cooking waiting for him on the table. He was grateful for both. He could tolerate Remus better than he could anyone else, and was immensely glad no one else had attempted to wait up for him.

Silently taking his seat, he sat the house elf's nose down on the table beside him before pulling the plate towards him. As he ate, his thoughts involuntarily went back to Kreacher.

He could vividly remember when his mother died and had her head shrunken to better fit with the others mounted on the wall. Kreacher had watched in awe as her head was hung up, proclaiming there would be no greater honor for him than to join her. Sirius had offered to make his dreams come true sooner rather than later, which naturally had served to anger Regulus - which, of course, had been his reason for saying it in the first place.

Sirius concluded that Kreacher must have died while under the care of his mother, while Regulus was believed dead. His brother would have never denied the elf its dying wish otherwise.

"Do I even want to know what that is?" Remus asked, nodding towards the nose.

Sirius' lips involuntarily turned upwards, "Bits of house elf," he answered, causing Remus to pull a disgusted face. "Shame it wasn't Kreacher. Kreacher…" he repeated. On whim he called, "Kreacher."

With a loud crack the small elf he despised appeared in front of him, looking distinctly horrified that Sirius had been able to summon him.

Covering his face behind his long fingers, he cried, "Kreacher won't! Kreacher won't! Kreacher won't serve the blood traitor!"

"Who will Kreacher serve?" Sirius asked predatorily. Kreacher became silent then though he continued to shake his head and refused to remove his hands from his eyes. "Escape to overseas with Regulus, did you? The coward. Couldn't answer for his past mistakes so he fled."

Kreacher let out a gagging sound, suggesting he might have attempted to defend Regulus but had been forbidden to do so. Of course he had been, Sirius mused. Regulus had always given house elves too much credit. As a result though, he had been the best at giving Kreacher orders no one else could find a way to break.

"You know, I have a few questions for that master of yours, Kreacher. Bring Regulus here. Now."

Kreacher brought his hands down from his face then and fixed Sirius with a look of loathing. After thinking over the orders for a moment, he gave the elfin equivalent of a smirk.

"Kreacher can't," he told him smugly.

"What do you mean you can't?" Sirius snarled. "I'm the head of the Black family. You are bound by your magic to do as I command."

"Kreacher can't bring you what you want," the elf told him proudly.

It went on like this for several minutes. Sirius asked Kreacher in a variety of ways to bring Regulus to him. In a moment of frustration he had even asked Kreacher to take him to Regulus which had sent Kreacher into a fit of raspy giggles. Sirius moved to within arm's length of the house elf then.

"Surely he will be summoning you home any minute now. I've got nothing but time to wait."

For the first time since his initial meltdown, Kreacher looked afraid, "No," he shook his head as if to convince himself. "He won't call me now."

"Where has Regulus been hiding all these years, Kreacher? As the head of the Black family I command you to tell me."

"Master Regulus died fifteen years ago," Kreacher answered serenely. "It was a tragedy."

"How did he convince everyone he died?" Sirius demanded.

"The Daily Prophet announced it."

"How did he convince Voldemort he died?" Sirius rephrased his question, raising an eyebrow slightly when Kreacher didn't flinch at the name.

"No one knows how master Regulus died," he answered evasively.

"Bring the youngest Black heir here to this household this instant Kreacher, or so help me you will have joined your mother's head on the wall by morning." Kreacher's eyes widened in a mixture of panic and horror as his own magic forced him to obey the orders given to him.

"Um..." a female voice came from behind Sirius. He turned to see Tonks in the doorway with Bill Weasley. He didn't know how long they had been standing there, though it was long enough for them to be confused by what they had witnessed.

There wasn't time to react before Kreacher returned. In his grasp was not Regulus, but a young boy with black hair and the same silvery gray eyes. Despite his obvious surprise, he managed to look casually elegant in a way that was all too familiar to Sirius. It felt like he was like looking into a mirror and seeing his younger self.

The adults in the room stared at the boy in stunned silence - none of them more surprised than Sirius. Tonks moved to stand next to him for a closer look. Her eyes were wide as she looked between him and the boy. No doubt she had noticed the resemblance between them.

The boy, who still trying to get his bearings, had taken more interest in the room at large rather than the adults in it.

"What is this place?" he asked Kreacher.

The house elf had covered his face in his hands miserably, "Kreacher brings young master to the Black family's ancestral home as the blood traitor demanded." The boy knitted his eyebrows as he properly took in the other occupants in the room for the first time. Finding Sirius, his eyes settled on him as Kreacher added, "This is where your father grew up."