Regulus had gone to Grimmauld Place with the intent of having a reasonable conversation with his brother. It was beyond frustrating, that the moment they started to have one, it was interrupted by Dumbledore.
The man could not have looked any more out of place than he did inside Regulus' childhood bedroom. That wasn't to say he noticed how awkward it was. Dumbledore seemed to be just as comfortable peering at Regulus with the Black Family Crest on the wall behind him as he would have from his own office at Hogwarts.
"I had hoped to see you again," Dumbledore informed him once he was settled.
"I would be lying if I said the same," Regulus answered.
"I cannot say that I am surprised by that. It is evident that you withheld certain information during our last meeting," Dumbledore remarked.
"When was that?" Sirius asked. He was looking between the two of them with a bemused frown.
Any lingering suspicion Regulus had about Sirius being responsible for Dumbledore showing up as his house had dissipated after talking to him earlier. In hindsight, he might have avoided this situation altogether if only he would have been more upfront with Sirius from the beginning.
"He showed up at my house a few weeks ago," Regulus explained.
Sirius' eyes focused on Dumbledore then. When he spoke, his voice was void of emotion. "You knew he was alive?"
A sudden wave of guilt struck Regulus at the reminder - that he had allowed his brother to believe he was dead. It was more often his parents that he thought about in that regard. He knew they were devastated by his disappearance - if only because it meant reinstating Sirius. He had not spared as much thought for his brother. He could try to justify it with the fact they were not on speaking terms at the time. Deep down, he knew it simply bothered his conscience less to pretend that Sirius wouldn't care if he died.
Dumbledore spoke in a placating tone. "I only recently learned the fate of your brother myself. When I inquired about a professor at Beauxbatons to fill our Defense position at Hogwarts, I was given the name of Regulus Black. Naturally, I was intrigued by that - enough so, that I sought to meet with him."
"Did it never occur to you to tell me?" Sirius asked irritably.
"I am inclined to think the information came to you from the right source," Dumbledore said gently. "I did encourage him to come to you. I thought-
"You could not have honestly expected he would come to me," Sirius growled. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Dumbledore studied him for a moment before answering. "You have made it clear your priority is to keep Harry safe. You moved back to Britain, at great risk to yourself, to be near him. Forgive me for thinking that if you knew your brother, who very much wished to continue to be believed dead, was alive and well in another country, it would have become an unnecessary distraction."
"An unnecessary distraction?" Sirius repeated disbelievingly.
"Imagine if I would have told you. Would you have stayed near Harry or gone out looking for him… as you did with Peter Pettigrew?"
Sirius shook his head. "You withheld information because it suited your interests," he accused.
"I did what I felt was in your best interest, as well as Harry's."
"If you acted in Harry's best interest, he would not be at the Dursley's house right now!"
Dumbledore seemed to consider something. "Harry has been with his aunt and uncle for two weeks now. I believe that is long enough to call Privet Drive home. We can make arrangements to move him after we hear from your brother."
Sirius opened his mouth and closed it. He was still brooding, but in a rare showing of restraint, he adopted a stony silence, rather than risk saying anything that might tempt Dumbledore to change his mind about Harry.
When no objection was made, Dumbledore gave a satisfied nod, then looked expectantly at Regulus. "You mentioned before that there was some speculation about you. Specifically, about whether you had the commitment required to serve Voldemort. Perhaps you could elaborate on that," he prompted.
Regulus' throat felt unaccountably dry. He had spent half of his life, repressing the memories of his time as a death eater, only for them to resurface in his dreams. For as vividly as he was able to recall the worst of them, the prospect of recanting them to anyone, let alone Dumbledore, left him feeling remarkably tongue-tied. Unfortunately, he already knew there would be no way around his questions this time.
He quietly cleared his throat. "The reality of being a death eater was nothing like what I had spent years building it up to be," he admitted. "I slowly came to see Voldemort for who he really was - a master manipulator who cared only about power. Anything else he pretended to care about was mere propaganda, used to recruit new minions to do his bidding. And what he was doing... I tried to ignore it for a while. Life would have been simpler if I could have not cared about what was happening - to strangers, to old acquaintances from school," he hesitated. "I did the bare minimum of what was asked of me, but even that became too much after-"
"After what?" Dumbledore asked softly.
Regulus exhaled slowly and forced himself to continue. "I had found out, by accident really, that he made a Horcrux." Dumbledore leaned forward in his seat and it was evident that he understood what that meant better than Sirius had.
"Did you see it?" he asked keenly. "The Horcrux."
"Yes," he admitted. "It was a locket- that I believe belonged to Salazar Slytherin."
"Was?" Dumbledore questioned.
"I destroyed it."
"You did what?" interjected Sirius.
Regulus shrugged as if it was the only logical thing to do in his situation. In reality, it had taken weeks to build up the courage.
"Are you certain the Horcrux was destroyed?" Dumbledore asked.
It was a fair question, given Voldemort's recent return.
Rather than answer, Regulus walked to his desk. Desisting the urge to ask them not to watch, he found the hidden compartment in his drawer and withdrew the only thing within. The once-Horcrux locket was obviously destroyed though he handed it to Dumbledore to examine himself.
Sirius moved to get a closer look at it, as Dumbledore took it in his long fingers. The latter muttered under his breath while prodding it with his wand. A deep frown of concentration had furrowed in his aged skin. It was several long moments before he spoke.
"It is destroyed," he confirmed. "Though I must say, Fiendfyre was a dangerous choice."
"I didn't have a lot of other options at the time," Regulus said dully. What he didn't say, is that he had become rather good with controlling Fiendfyre by then.
To Regulus' relief the headmaster made no attempt to keep the locket. After having risked his life for it, he felt an uncomfortable attachment to the stupid thing.
"I do not imagine that retrieving it was a small task," Dumbledore remarked.
"I was lucky to have gotten away with my life," he admitted. There was no use pretending otherwise.
"Could you show us?"
Regulus was taken aback by the request. There was a Pensieve in his father's office, but the prospect of putting his near-death experience on display was not even remotely appealing.
"I can tell you about the protections, or whatever it is that you want to know."
"Surely that is sufficient," Sirius intoned.
It was immediately evident that Dumbledore did not agree. "I assure you, I would not ask if it was not vital. I need to know everything, you can tell me, from the beginning. The tasks you were set upon as a death eater. The moment you first came to suspect he had made a Horcrux. And yes, when you went to retrieve it. There may be details - too subtle to be mentioned in storytelling, but important..."
After much discussion, Regulus eventually agreed to share some of his memories. Sirius felt conflicted about it. Considering what his brother must have gone through, it seemed cruel to make him relive any of it. On the other hand, he would take every bit of help that he could get in order to protect Harry - and Harry wouldn't be safe until Voldemort was gone, once and for all.
Having already retrieved it from his father's office, Sirius magicked the family Pensieve onto Regulus' desk. As the three of them gathered around it, Regulus' expression was as unreadable as ever. Sirius was all but certain he was going to back out of it and refuse to show them any of his memories after all.
Sirius liked to think he would support his brother in the decision. He was spared from having to decide when Regulus took the proffered wand from Dumbledore at last. He held it to his temple, and when he withdrew it, some silvery substance came away and fell gracefully into the Pensieve where it swirled silvery white. He repeated the motion numerous times before hesitating.
"You should know that I developed a theory when last we met," Dumbledore said gently. "You needn't worry about incriminating anyone."
After a slight delay, Regulus proceeded to add further memories. When he indicated he was finished, Dumbledore gestured for Sirius to go first.
With one last look at his brother, he plunged his face into the silvery substance in the basin and felt his feet leave the floor before falling through whirling darkness.
When it stopped there were two near-identical black hair, gray eyed boys sitting before him. The older one's eyes had a glazed look about them while the younger boy was listening intently to the man across the desk from them.
Their father's lessons, Sirius recalled with both derision and sadness.
Dumbledore appeared beside him. He looked around for Regulus but he must have stayed behind.
"…Aside from these laws there is perhaps no limit to what a wizard can do, but there are certain magics that test the boundary," Orion said. "Things that, despite one's capability, simply shouldn't be done. Some argue all of the dark arts belong in this category, but that is untrue.
"It is the spells designed to violate one's soul – that tamper with the source of life, the essence of self that must be avoided. Attempting to raise the dead or alter one's own mortality – only one who does not understand the true cost of their actions would dare attempt any of these things."
He indicated a hidden compartment in the wall. "Much of what is contained in these books fall into that category. We keep them only as a record of the existence of such magic. Now, any questions before lunch?"
The younger version of Sirius perked up slightly at the prospect of food, only to close his eyes when Regulus proposed their father test their occlumency shields first.
When the scene changed, Regulus was a few years older. He entered his bedroom and slammed the door, only for it to immediately open again, admitting Sirius.
"What is wrong with you?" he demanded.
"I expect we might get along if we stayed away from each other," Regulus said dryly.
"You were just saying all of that – wanting to join the death eaters, because it's what mum and dad wanted to hear. That wasn't you talking."
"Wasn't me?" Regulus laughed humorlessly. "How would you know? We don't talk at school. This is the first holiday you've been home in three years."
"That isn't true," the memory-version of Sirius said, but he was lying because he knew it was true. Aside from a miserable day here and there, he had done everything he could to stay out of that house - and away from all of them.
Teenage-Sirius caught sight of the newspaper clippings about Voldemort on Regulus' wall and scowled.
"How can you want to be a murderer?" he demanded.
"Why are you content to live in secret?" Regulus countered.
"I'm not unhappy enough about it to want to become a murderer!"
"Being a death eater does not equate to being a murderer."
"I really think it does," Sirius said solemnly.
"The Dark Lord wants to unite wizarding Britain under pureblood rule and bring wizards out of hiding-"
"I heard your frenzied little speech the first time around," Sirius said disgustedly. "How do you expect he will accomplish that? Is everyone who isn't a pureblood just going to lie down and agree to do whatever it is the pureblood elitists deem appropriate? Where will that leave the Muggleborns, I wonder."
Regulus shrugged unconcernedly, "There's bound to be some casualties. Mud-"
"Some casualties?" Sirius repeated. "Tell me, have you read any articles from "The Daily Prophet" that aren't currently on your wall? You ought to check out the obituaries sometime. Never mind the muggle papers - they're filled with more unexplained deaths every day."
"Muggles aren't innocent, certainly not where wizards are concerned."
"They are helpless where actual wizards are concerned," Sirius said through gritted teeth. "How can be you be so ignorant?"
The scene changed rather abruptly, though Sirius was glad for it. He knew their argument was only the beginning of that awful night. The other arguments that followed were with his parents, and much worse. It was the same night that he left - for good...
Regulus looked to be a year or so older. He was with their parents in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place. Kreacher entered the room and announced the arrival of Bellatrix.
After the initial greetings, their most hated cousin turned to Regulus. "I have arranged the privilege for you to meet with the Dark Lord."
"He is sixteen," Orion pointed out. "Another year before he is of age."
"There is precedent," Bellatrix told him. "Regulus has housemates who have already joined."
"Seventh years," Regulus confirmed pensively. "Their fathers brought them in."
"As I will you," Bellatrix beamed. "There would be no greater honor for our family."
Regulus hesitated. He hesitated? Could he have been talked out of it? Sirius felt a wave of nausea that he hadn't been there to stop him.
"What is there to think about?" Walburga asked. "You have been talking about this for three years. The Dark Lord must recognize how valuable you would be to his cause if he's agreed to meet you."
The scene changed and Regulus was walking steadily uphill, and silently, alongside Bellatrix. Their destination seemed to be a large house at the top of the hill before them. The landscape surrounding the house was illuminated by a full moon. Sirius did not recognize where they were, but the location seemed to interest Dumbledore very much.
Unable to escape the feeling that he was at least partly to blame for his sixteen-year-old brother being here, Sirius found it difficult to look at him.
Bellatrix led them to the side of the house. There was a door that was almost completely hidden by ivy. Rather than entering immediately, she turned to her youngest cousin. If it was anyone else, some words of encouragement might have been offered. But it was Bellatrix. She said, "Don't make me regret this." With that, she pushed open the door and led him inside.
She walked directly up the stairs and, on the landing, turned right. At the end of the passage, a door stood ajar. Candlelight shone through the gap, casting a flickering ray of light across the black floor.
Regulus' expression was composed, though his hands remained closely at his side. Sirius suspected it was to hide the fact they were shaking.
"My Lord," Bellatrix said, bowing respectfully. "Please allow me to present to you, my cousin." She looked back as if expecting he would be there, and gave him an exasperated look upon seeing he had not followed her in the room, but had remained in the doorway.
Affecting a surprising amount of dignity for the circumstance, Regulus came forward then.
Voldemort observed him shrewdly as he approached. Regulus stopped when he was beside Bellatrix.
"Regulus," Voldemort said.
Regulus met his gaze, and red eyes fastened upon silver ones with such intensity, Sirius was amazed Regulus didn't flinch. He looked calmly back until, after a moment or two, Voldemort ended the intrusion. His eyes dropped immediately once it was over, and an involuntary shudder went through him.
"Leave us," Voldemort said to Bellatrix.
She did as she was told at once. Regulus' expression did not change despite being left alone with the darkest wizard of the century. His face was relaxed, though his hands remained buried within his robes at each side.
"You hide your nerves well," Voldemort said when they were alone. Regulus chanced a look up at his face though he did not use legilimency again. "Everyone is nervous at first," he said, as if it was understandable.
Sirius nearly withdrew from the Pensieve rather than listen to the rest of their conversation. In his head, he was screaming at his brother to realize how stupid this was, and for him not to take the mark, but it wasn't long before Regulus was pulling up the sleeve of his robes on his left arm and presenting it to Voldemort.
The latter grasped his wrist to hold it firm before touching his wand to Regulus' forearm. He watched his face closely as he muttered an enchantment in parseltongue.
Sirius watched in fascination and disgust as tendrils of magic formed around the outside of his arm, momentarily harmless, before embedding themselves into his skin and perhaps deeper. Regulus soon gave up on pretending it didn't hurt. His expressionless mask disappeared and his face contorted in pain. Sirius kept expecting he would scream. He didn't though, rather he endured it in near-silence until at last, Voldemort withdrew his wand. Left behind was Regulus' newly acquired dark mark; black against his pale skin.
The scene changed. Sirius dreaded to see what came next, now that Regulus was a death eater, though it wasn't anything shocking. Rather, Regulus was walking casually with Lucius Malfoy through muggle London in the middle of the day.
"Narcissa is worried you've been allowed to join too young," Lucius said.
"She worries too much," Regulus answered.
"She is fond of you. It is for that reason I've brought you with me today. I know Bellatrix wants a hand in training you, but her ways are… her own," he finished vaguely.
"It's nothing I can't handle."
Lucius gave a satisfied nod. "I do not doubt it."
They walked in silence for a moment.
"Occlumency is a skill you shall find useful," Lucius said. "Have you practiced it before?"
"A little," Regulus said oddly, as Sirius knew that to be an understatement. "To conceal-?"
"Never hide anything from the Dark Lord," he warned emphatically. "You would not manage it. In learning Occlumency, you are forced to compartmentalize your life and emotions. Mastering this allows you to suppress certain feelings when they would betray your purpose. It is helpful both for when you're with family and while fulfilling other duties. Naturally, you would want to behave quite differently in each of those situations..." The scene changed.
When it reformed, it took a moment for Sirius' eyes to adjust to the darkness. He recognized Bellatrix, walking alongside a masked figure, who must have been Regulus. He groaned as he pulled off his mask, revealing a gash above his left eyebrow. Blood appeared to be exuding from it in record quantities, flowing into his eye.
"I don't know why you bother with that mask," Bellatrix chastised. "It impairs your ability to see and now it's marred your good looks. No doubt that's going to scar."
"Thanks for the sympathy," Regulus scowled, awkwardly aiming his wand at his head to stem the bleeding.
"Why do you insist on wearing it?" She asked haughtily. "I never wear mine."
"I'd rather not spend my life in Azkaban if things don't go as planned," he answered recklessly.
"Meaning what?" She grabbed his shoulder roughly, stopping him, "Would you deny your service to the Dark Lord?"
Regulus blinked, "Of course not," he answered evenly. "But you must have noticed Dumbledore was there tonight. Imagine how problematic he could make things for me when I still have a year left at school."
"You could just leave school – there is nothing left that place can teach you."
"It would only draw attention to myself."
"The Dark Lord would admire your dedication."
"I expect he has a reason for me to remain in school, less he would have told me to leave," Regulus countered.
"If I didn't know better, I would think you prefer your school lessons over the ones I've been giving you," Bellatrix said calculatingly.
Regulus gave her a look to indicate he wasn't going to dignify that with a response.
"I noticed you squandered the opportunity to kill an Auror this evening," she pressed. "You scarcely harmed him at all... I wonder why that is."
"The curse I used was more than adequate to get him out of our way," Regulus said dismissively.
"For today," she said coolly. "What happens the next time? The odds might not be in our favor then… You could have made it so we would never have to face him again, but you thought what? That showing mercy was the better option?" she asked derisively. "From whom did you take that example?"
Regulus' expression was unreadable. "He is the last of the male line from an ancient family."
"If he took any pride in that, he would not have stood in our way," she answered.
"The wizarding population is too small to murder everyone who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time..."
When the scene changed, Regulus was alone with Voldemort.
"The start of a new term is fast approaching," Voldemort said in a high, clear voice that made the hair on Sirius' neck stand on end. "You will not be able to serve me as the others do."
"I have means to leave the castle undetected," Regulus boasted.
"You shall not miss class," Voldemort instructed. "That would only raise suspicion about your whereabouts. From my understanding you are a Prefect."
"Yes... my lord."
Voldemort's mouth twisted in a way he might have been smiling, "I was Head Boy in my time at Hogwarts," he said fondly. "It brings back memories."
Regulus' brow furrowed as if considering something, though it cleared quickly. By the time Voldemort looked at him, he had resumed his usual, impassive expression.
"You will be involved just enough throughout the year to ensure the training you received over the summer does not go to waste. As for how you fill your spare time at school, I understand you have been a part of a dueling club for the better part of four years. I would like for you expand upon that."
"The others have left school," Regulus began.
"Replace them," Voldemort instructed. "Invite the entirety of N.E.W.T. level Slytherins. Bring in students from other houses who show promise." Regulus shifted uncomfortably. "People will be drawn to you, Regulus, if you allow them. Use that. Teach them, but more importantly, learn about them – their strengths, their weaknesses. Whether it is their goal to join us or become our opposition, it will be useful to know about them…"
When the scene changed, Regulus was sitting in the Slytherin common room on a black leather sofa near the fire. The gash over his left eye was no longer bleeding, though the scar it left behind was not quite as faint then as it was now, as an adult.
He looked up from the book he was reading as someone approached.
There was no reason that Sirius should have known that the girl's name was Maliah Bones. He had largely ignored the girls who were in Slytherin on principle, and she was one of the few that he had not known prior to going to Hogwarts.
He had occasionally noticed her at events he attended with the Potter's. Her parents had been friends with James', and he knew the two of them had been on at least amicable terms before they went to school. James had been stunned when she was sorted into Slytherin as evidently the rest of the Bones family had been in Hufflepuff.
As his brother gazed at her with a bit too much interest, Sirius supposed he was wondering why she had chosen to share his couch rather than sit in any one of the highbacked chairs that were available throughout the near-empty common room.
"Didn't you want to torment Muggleborns with your friends?" she asked him casually.
"What makes you think that is what they're doing?"
"The fact you didn't go with them seems like a good indication."
He frowned slightly. "I couldn't tell you how many detentions I've received for doing just that," he admitted.
"Because you were the one doing the hexing, or because you were there, and didn't stop it?"
He hesitated as if uncertain somehow. "There isn't much difference between the two," he said, in what must have been a profound realization for a young death eater. Upon noticing the way she was looking at him, he quickly amended. "At least, that is what McGonagall tells me. She is usually the one giving me detention."
The girl's eyes lingered on him curiously. There was something about them, and the way they seemed to astutely analyze everything she looked at, that reminded Sirius of someone else. Add to it, the long dark hair, and the way she carried herself... He knew who she reminded him of - but it defied logic.
He glanced at Dumbledore and saw there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
Sirius was frankly baffled. No matter that the Bones Family was well-respected within the Ministry and pureblood. Given their perceived sympathy for Muggleborn wizards, they were not the sort of family his parents would want their son to associate with - and Regulus always did what their parents expected of him. He couldn't have possibly married a Bones. Not only because their parents would have never allowed it, but because there was no way it could have happened without him hearing about it.
"You have seemed different lately," the girl said as the scene began to change.
When it reformed, what must have been every sixth and seventh year Slytherin, half of their Ravenclaw counterparts and a handful of Hufflepuffs were gathered in an expanded classroom in the dungeons. Everyone was paired off with dueling partners with the exception of Regulus, who was walking among them, observing.
A sixth year Ravenclaw who was clearly struggling against Barty Crouch Jr., caught his attention. He stopped to watch them for a moment before intervening.
"He knows what is coming every time," he said quietly, and to Sirius' surprise, without disdain. "How are you with nonverbal spells?"
The boy winced. Regulus had just begun to give him tips for mastering the skill when a group of Gryffindors led by Dirk Cresswell burst through the door. Cresswell zeroed in on Regulus.
"We heard you're down here practicing the Cruciatus Curse on first years."
Sirius had been proud there weren't any Gryffindors in attendance until that moment. It would have been obvious there weren't any first years involved, if he had given even the briefest glimpse inside the room before bursting in.
"This is a teacher sponsored dueling club," Regulus answered dismissively. "If you have issue with it, take it up with either Slughorn or Flitwick, both are sponsors."
"You can't expect us to believe they are sponsoring a death eater to train potential recruits for you-know-who," Edward Vane sneered.
"I'm flattered you think so highly of my abilities," Regulus said, causing some of the throng to laugh.
"You won't deny you're preparing for your future career though, will you?" Cresswell prodded.
"Yeah, Black has always wanted to be a teacher," Selwyn smirked.
"Technically, you're allowed to join us," said Regulus, "being that it is a teacher-sponsored group."
"As if any of us would join a death eater training club," Vane said clearly affronted.
"Perhaps if you looked around, you wouldn't be so convinced there is an ulterior purpose of this group," a new voice said. Sirius scowled as he identified it as belonging to Barty Crouch Jr., who was moving through the crowd towards them. "As my father is the head of the D.M.L.E., and ultimately leads the defense against You-Know-Who, I must ask you to rethink your rhetoric."
Regulus exchanged a look with Rabastan Lestrange, who had evidently befriended Crouch by then. Several other students shared similar sentiments to Crouch.
"Why aren't Flitwick and Slughorn here if they're sponsors?" Vane asked.
"I am a Prefect," Regulus shrugged as if it were obvious, and eliciting a look of disdain from each of the Gryffindors.
"We've been gathering all year, even if you've only just learned of it," Selwyn said pointedly. The Gryffindors exchanged uncomfortable looks.
"Now that you see your chivalrous heroics aren't needed, I must ask that you leave so we can continue our training – that is, unless you wish to join us?" The Gryffindors had begun backing out of the room already, trying not to look embarrassed. "There will be a competition at the end of the year, if you change your mind," Regulus called after them loftily...
When the scene changed, masked death eaters were gathered. Voldemort was at the forefront, giving a long-winded speech. Sirius tried to listen intently but the longer he droned on about his own achievements, the less important it seemed. It was evident that many in the throng had the same sentiment. A death eater on one side of Regulus shuffled his feet every few minutes, while the death eater on his other side could be heard sighing on multiple occasions. Regulus was one of the few who seemed to actually be listening - or else, he was better at pretending to be.
When the scene finally changed, Regulus was in an ornate room of green and silver that seemed vaguely familiar to Sirius, perhaps it was somewhere his mother had dragged him to when he was younger.
Regulus was with his former Slytherin classmates. Snape was there, though his nose buried in a book as if the conversations surrounding him couldn't interest him in the least.
Regulus looked to be deep in thought himself. "What do you think the Dark Lord means when he talks about his path to immortality?" he asked, just loud enough for Wilkes and Rosier to hear.
"His path to… become more powerful than everyone else," Wilkes shrugged unconcernedly.
"Maybe he's part phoenix," Rosier suggested mockingly. "He'll die and regenerate from his own ashes."
Regulus scowled.
"Shouldn't you be getting back to school so you can learn how to fend off such dark wizards?" Rosier asked blandly.
"I think I'd fancy a visit into muggle London," Mulciber announced from across the room. "Anyone else?"
Naturally, no one in that group was going to turn down the opportunity to terrorize helpless muggles.
"Curse some muggles for me," Regulus told them as he made his way for the fireplace, presumably, on his way back to school. Despite his parting words, Sirius didn't think he looked remotely upset to miss out on the 'fun'...
The scene changed and Regulus was standing at the outskirts of Hogsmeade, near the cave where Sirius had lived during the Triwizard Tournament. It was a beautiful day, Sirius guessed late spring or early summer. It was evident from the crowd in the village that it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Regulus was better dressed than the occasion should have called for. He looked older and more becoming than Sirius could remember from anytime when he had been at school with him.
Maliah apparated just in front of him. She smiled slightly as her eyes grazed over him.
"Hi," she greeted, kissing him.
Regulus pulled away after not very long. "I'd rather not explain to your father why we're late," he said by way of explanation.
"You're always so respectable," she said, in a tone tinged with both amusement and exasperation.
Regulus didn't return her smile. "Are you sure we should do this?"
"My parents want to meet you," she said, as if it wasn't a big deal. When it looked like he would object, she swiftly added, "Just be your natural charming self, and they will have no choice but to like you."
Regulus did not seem to find those words to be reassuring.
"You do realize most people don't find me charming or likable," he said offhandedly.
She bit her lip to hide a smile. "They would... if you'd let them."
He looked as if he might object further, but took her hand when she reached for his. Maliah then Disapparated, taking them all along with her.
They must have been near Hogsmeade as the mountains would have kept them from Apparating far. Their destination was a large stone house, that was vaguely familiar to Sirius. He suspected it belonged to Maliah's parents, which was confirmed, as she deftly guided them around the wards surrounding it.
As they reached the boundary of the yard, two young girls could be seen playing outside. Edgar Bones was lounging casually on the steps watching his daughters, but stood as they approached.
"You said it would just be your parents," Regulus said warily, though his outward expression gave no indication of surprise.
"I thought it was," she said as she hugged the little girl who had ran up to her. "You remember my brother, Edgar. This is his daughter, Josie, and that is Kenna, over there," she said indicating a little red-headed girl across the yard.
"It is nice to meet you," Regulus said, shaking Edgar's hand.
Edgar didn't seem to entirely agree with that sentiment but was polite enough. "I feel I've been meeting a lot of Blacks lately."
"Oh?" Regulus said interestedly. "Who else did you meet?"
"Your brother, Sirius."
That couldn't have been what he was expecting. And though Edgar might have been oblivious, Sirius thought Regulus must have suspected what that meant. Given their age difference, Sirius had never met Edgar until after he joined the Order of the Phoenix.
Regulus' mannerisms did not change. "You found him well, I hope?" he asked in the same cordial tone as before.
"Quite," Edgar answered as his wife joined them outside. Then came Robert and his wife, and Amelia, and then their parents. Regulus was introduced to each one of them in turn. He appeared remarkably unflustered, though it must have been a relief when Mrs. Bones beckoned them all inside for lunch.
The scene shifted and Regulus and Maliah were back outside, this time walking away from the house.
"My parents liked you," Maliah said, visibly pleased.
Regulus' expression darkened with every step they took away from the Bones' ancestral home. "I wonder where Edgar met Sirius."
Maliah shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "Your brother is often with the Potter's," she reminded him.
The moment they had passed the boundary of the yard, Regulus pulled her to a stop. If Maliah did not already know that Regulus was a death eater, Sirius suspected she was about to find out... The scene changed.
When it reformed, Regulus' jaw was clenched tight and his gaze seemed to be fixed on the ceiling straight ahead. Sirius turned just as the sound of a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the cavernous room. On the ground was a writhing male being held under the Cruciatus Curse.
"Enough," said a cold voice that made the hair on Sirius' neck stand on end. The spell must have been lifted, as the screams were replaced with panted breathing and groans.
The cloaked figure who had cast the spell bowed curtly and then moved to stand beside Regulus.
A tall, thin figure who had been pacing, moved forward. Stepping over the male on the ground as if he was beneath his notice, he moved among the half-dozen of gathered death eaters.
"I have a task that requires the use of a house elf," Voldemort said quietly, though no one missed a word. He stopped directly in front of Regulus as if having already decided it would be him. "Who will have this honor?"
The scene changed and Regulus was pacing the length of his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. Quite suddenly, Kreacher appeared before him, squawking. He flailed around in the floor, gasping for air, grabbing at his throat and chest, all while looking around as if surprised he was alive. As much as despised the house elf, Sirius wouldn't wish that sort of distress on anyone.
Regulus crouched down beside him. He attempted to pat him on the back. Kreacher jerked away from his touch. Seemingly having recognized Regulus only then, he covered his face in his hands and began to weep.
"Sit up," Regulus told him gently. His voice was calm though he looked quite alarmed himself. Kreacher did so, having no other choice. He put his head between his knees and began to rock himself back and forth. His breathing came in sobs. "Take deep breaths," Regulus reminded him. He continued to speak soothingly to him until gradually his breathing became more rhythmic.
"When you feel up to it, tell me what happened," Regulus said. It was several minutes before Kreacher started to talk.
"The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave beside the sea," he shivered. "Beyond the cave there was a cavern and in the cavern was a great black lake. There was a b-boat that took the Dark Lord and Kreacher to an island at the center of the lake.
"On the island there was a basin full of p-potion. The D-dark Lord made Kreacher drink it. Kreacher drank and as he drank, he saw terrible things… his worst memories," he shuddered. "Kreacher's insides burned… Kreacher cried for M-master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed." Regulus' eyes darkened.
"He made Kreacher drink all of the potion. He dropped a locket into the empty basin and then refilled it with more potion. And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island.
"Kreacher needed water. He crawled to the island's edge and drank from the black lake… and hands, dead hands came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface.
"Kreacher was drowning, but Master Regulus' orders were for him to come home."
The scene changed and Regulus was sitting in their father's office; Orion was watching him from across his desk, his hands folded on the desk. There was an urgency in Regulus that Sirius had only seen once before.
"I volunteered Kreacher to the Dark Lord for a task. I told him to do whatever the Dark Lord asked and then come home."
"And how did Kreacher perform?"
"He did everything he was supposed to do."
"Then I must ask, what is it that's worrying you, my son?"
"It was the Dark Lord's intent to leave Kreacher to die."
Orion silently observed him, "Naturally, the order given by Kreacher's master would have taken precedence," he said, easily comprehending the problem. Regulus nodded. "The logical thing would be to kill Kreacher."
"I volunteered him," Regulus said angrily. "I told him it would be an honor to serve the Dark Lord." Orion visibly paled, though otherwise didn't react to Regulus' contempt.
"What do you intend for me to do with this information?" he asked carefully.
"I've told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house, but you nor mother can send him out – he must be believed dead."
Orion didn't answer immediately. Sirius expected he would insist they kill their youngest elf. What was the life of one house elf, if it meant staying in Voldemort's good graces, after all?
"Very well," he agreed eventually. Regulus visibly relaxed. "I was just thinking earlier, I can't remember when the defenses on Grimmauld Place were last upgraded."
When the scene changed, Regulus was alone in a sitting room that Sirius had never seen before. He was reading what must have been a truly grotesque book, given his current expression. Sirius didn't want to think about what could be bad enough to turn a death eater's stomach.
Maliah entered the room and he shut the book at once. Sirius was just able to read the title, Secrets of the Darkest Art, as he tucked it out of sight.
"Did you have a good day?" he asked, as she curled up beside him.
She nodded, "Just - so tired." By then she was using his lap as a pillow. Regulus smiled down at her and tucked back her hair.
"Take a nap," he suggested.
"I can't... it's my niece's birthday. We're supposed to go to my parent's house for dinner."
"Tonight?" Regulus asked while taking a furtive glance at his watch.
Maliah sighed as she sat up. "Yes, tonight. Which we discussed two days ago, when you assured me that you would be there. And I, in turn, told my family you would be there... I'm running out of excuses to give them for why you never show up to anything."
"I hate it as much as you do... more, I daresay, but I can't just miss a meeting..."
The scene changed. When it reformed, Regulus was seated at a long table between Bellatrix and Corban Yaxley. After taking notice of the others in attendance, Sirius couldn't fathom why Regulus was present at what looked suspiciously like an inner circle affair.
None of the death eaters in this meeting had bothered with masks. Sirius took a mental note of those he knew. There would have been more surprises if Igor Karkaraff had not ousted so many of them during the death eater trials following Voldemort's downfall. By the surreptitious looks Regulus was giving Augustus Rookwood, Sirius suspected he may have only just become aware of his affiliation.
"As you know, I have acquired a spy within the Order of the Phoenix," Voldemort announced from the head of the table. As if it was the first time they'd heard the news several felt the need to congratulate him, which he accepted arrogantly.
"Any chance the spy is Sirius?" Regulus asked Bellatrix drolly. He'd said it as if it was of little consequence, but it was clear by how intently he was looking at her, he really wanted to know who the spy was.
She smiled, "It's even better," she promised.
Regulus watched her for a moment, obviously hoping she would divulge more.
"He has proven himself useful once more. He has brought it to my attention we have a new enemy," Voldemort said. He didn't have to raise his voice to command everyone's attention. "A family who led us to believe they were supportive of our cause, has members who have joined the Order of the Phoenix!" He paused for dramatic effect.
"Who is it, My Lord?" Lucius' voice could be heard over the jeers.
"The Bones Family." Nearly everyone reacted, either with words of contempt or looks of indignation. Regulus nearly drew attention to himself by failing to react at all.
Voldemort allowed their outrage to simmer for another moment before raising his hands to quiet them, "Yes, it was unexpected. The Bones are one of the most respected families in Britain. I take this as a personal insult."
"The location of their Ancestral home is no secret," Rodolphus Lestrange remarked.
"They will be sleeping at this hour," Corban Yaxley added hungrily. "They all have to be at the Ministry bright and early, after all."
"The time is ripe for an attack," Voldemort agreed, "While they remain oblivious to our knowledge of their duplicity. We shall begin our preparations now – and attack with significant force tomorrow."
Sirius raised an eyebrow as when the scene changed, Regulus was climbing feet-first into a toilet. He pulled the chain and in the next moment was emerging from a fireplace in the Ministry of Magic, perfectly dry. The Atrium was easily recognized by the golden fountain in the center of the hall.
Regulus checked his watch and hurriedly made his way through the golden gates and into a smaller hall where queues were forming in front of twenty golden grilles, housing as many lifts.
What was he thinking? Even with his glamour concealing his features, he was being given a wide berth by Ministry employees arriving for work, who obviously didn't recognize him. He would have drawn less attention to himself if he'd used the visitor's entrance and checked in.
Regulus spotted Maliah and joined the queue behind her. Everything appeared to be going as he intended – when the grilles opened, Maliah entered the lift, Regulus followed her. As no one felt inclined to ride with a stranger, the grilles were beginning to close – only to waver when Augustus Rookwood thrust himself between, stalling them momentarily as he squeezed onto the lift.
"Good morning," Maliah greeted amicably as they ascended. They were both wearing light gray robes with a Ministry of Magic crest. Neither of them spared more than a glance at Regulus with his nondescript appearance.
"Is it?" Rookwood asked her sympathetically, "Forgive me, but you don't look like you feel any better than you did yesterday morning."
She did look a bit pale, Sirius observed.
"Tunneling in through the plumbing has a way of turning my stomach. I'll be glad when the other avenues of entry are brought back."
The lift stopped, and the grilles opened. A cool female voice announced the departments on the seventh floor. The grilles shut with a clang and moved upward.
"I'm inclined to think those of us in the Department of Mysteries, have it the worst. These lifts taking us all the way to level one before letting us back down to level nine is a pain," he shook his head. "There isn't anything down there than can be seen from the entry hall anyway."
She nodded in agreement.
The lift stopped again, and the disembodied voice announced, "Department of Magical Transport, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparition Test Center."
Rookwood looked at her curiously, "It is my understanding the senior Ministry officials have maintained residential connection of the Floo… You must no longer live in the home of your parents if you are using the same Ministry entrance as I am."
Maliah hesitated, "Regardless of our Ancestral home's connection, it is not intended for me to use it," she answered ambiguously.
"I moved out of my parents' house at seventeen myself," Rookwood smiled as if it were an inconsequential matter. Maliah didn't answer.
The lift stopped again, and when the grilles opened, a squatty old witch was waiting to get on. Rookwood and Maliah both moved closer to Regulus to give her room.
Apparently deciding she looked worse than she realized, Rookwood conjured a cup of steaming liquid and offered it to Maliah, "Pepper-up potion. You look like you could use it."
Regulus' hand twitched as if he were going to knock it away if she took it.
"I'm fine," she insisted. "But thanks."
He shrugged and took a drink of it himself, "No use letting it go to waste," he said. She smiled faintly as the tell-tale steam exhumed from his ears.
When the lift stopped again, the female voice announced, "Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and the Pest Advisory Bureau."
Dirk Cresswell, a former Gryffindor in Regulus' year, had obviously been waiting for the lift. As the squatty old witch was exiting, he caught sight of Maliah and hesitated.
"Ah, the age-old rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin," Rookwood chuckled. "Going up, son?" Cresswell nodded and Rookwood beckoned him forward. The doors clanged shut behind him and they ascended again. "Cresswell, isn't it?" The boy nodded again. "Well, don't worry. I won't let her hurt you," he assured him with a smirk at Maliah.
"It wouldn't be her anyway – more like her death eater boyfriend," he said brazenly.
"He has never been accused of being a death eater by anyone who wasn't a Gryffindor with a grudge," Maliah said, her tone was much more like Sirius remembered from school, on the rare occasion he had heard her speak.
"And who is this mystery guy you've never mentioned?" Rookwood interjected casually, though watching her intently.
"Michael Vaisey," Cresswell blurted out rather bizarrely. Maliah blinked in surprise. He was faced forward, away from them, but Sirius could see his eyes had glazed over as if from the effect of an Imperius curse. Her eyes drifted to Regulus, but he acted oblivious of her attention. She put her hands in her pockets casually, though Sirius suspected it was to grasp her wand.
"Vaisey," Rookwood repeated. "You know, sometimes I think it's a curse of the Slytherins that everyone just assumes the worst of them."
Maliah appeared to be deep in thought when they stopped at level three. A witch in gray robes whom Sirius recognized as an older Ravenclaw from his days in school entered the lift. She immediately engaged Rookwood and Maliah in conversation – disclosing she had said a little too much about her job as an Unspeakable and had to get help from one of the Obliviators to intervene. Maliah and Rookwood's poorly disguised derision left their previous conversation forgotten.
The lift stopped again, and the disembodied voice announced, "Department of Magical Law Enforcement incorporating the Improper Use of Magic, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot and Administration Services"
When the golden grille clattered open, Cresswell exited with Regulus whether he wanted to or not. Maliah looked very much like she wanted to go after them, but perhaps given the inopportune floor he had chosen, remained where she was.
Regulus found a private alcove and disillusioned himself and then led an Imperiused Cresswell directly into the office of the Wizengamot. Oh yes, Sirius was feeling very good about how 'reformed' his brother was now.
"I require an audience with Ian Bones," Cresswell announced to the receptionist.
She raised an eyebrow, "Do you have an appointment?"
"No."
"You'll need to make an appointment," she said flipping through a calendar. "It will be January."
"He would want to talk to me. Right now," Cresswell insisted.
Something, perhaps it was his canary yellow robes as each color seemed to indicate something relating to their job, gave her pause. "Mr. Bones is working from home today," she confided.
Cresswell mumbled a 'thank you' and left without scheduling an appointment.
It was short walk across the hall to the 'Improper Use of Magic' office. Amelia Bones could be seen in the back, talking with Barty Crouch Sr. Sirius was surprised Regulus didn't bolt from there immediately.
"Edgar Bones," Cresswell said to the receptionist. "He works in the Office for the Removal of Curses, Jinxes and Hexes-"
"I know who Edgar is," the male behind the counter answered in a snarky tone. "You just missed him - a curse breaker was needed in Yorkshire."
If Cresswell's expression was any indication of Regulus' mood, the man was lucky he hadn't cursed him before leaving.
Sirius followed them to a back staircase and down a flight of stairs.
Cresswell approached the receptionist of the Obliviators unit. "Is Robert Bones in?" he asked doubtfully.
"He was with a reversal squad sent out this morning," Cresswell was halfway to the exit before she'd even finished the sentence.
They returned to the stairwell and Regulus ended his curse before Obliviating Cresswell, all the while muttering he was as useless as ever. The latter was still blinking away his confusion as Regulus stormed down the rest of the stairs, back to the Atrium. He climbed into a fireplace and out of a toilet. When he was clear of the anti-apparition wards, he Disapparated.
They arrived in a valley surrounded by a dramatic landscape of snow-capped mountains in the distance. Sirius recognized the Bones' ancestral home in front of them. Regulus glanced around himself before walking towards the house, clearing the footprints his feet left in the fallen snow along the way. His approach to the house was less direct than systematic; it was evident that he was well-practiced in getting around the wards by then.
He came within several meters of the house before Disapparating. Sirius reappeared with him in the entrance hall of the home. A set of glass doors that would have separated the hall from an office, stood open. Inside, Ian Bones was looking up at him from behind a desk. His surprise quickly morphed into concern.
"Regulus," he said, rising to his feet. "What-?"
"Voldemort knows Edgar joined the Order and that you've been passing information to Dumbledore," he said tersely.
The Bones patriarch stared at him in confusion for a moment, though it was evident when he realized how Regulus came by that information.
"What a cruel twist of fate that you were sent to deliver Voldemort's message."
Regulus balked at that. "No one sent me. Voldemort intends to attack here tonight." He looked as if he would say something more, but the words didn't come. With a tremulous breath, he turned on his heel. The Bones Patriarch called out for him to wait, but he had already Disapparated.
Regulus was in their father's office, returning several books to a hidden compartment in the wall.
He returned to his room and took out a locket from his drawer. He studied it for a moment and his impassive mask faded. It was replaced by something Sirius couldn't quite place.
He took out parchment and a quill and began to write. Sirius read from over his shoulder,
"To the Dark Lord-
I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.
–R.A.B"
He folded the parchment and put it inside the locket - the locket that had been waiting in his desk. Sirius realized he must have been planning to do this for some time.
He put the locket in the pocket of his robes as he stood and looked around his room for a moment, as if it would be the last time he would see it, or maybe Sirius just knew it must have been what he was thinking. Anyone defying Voldemort on so many levels, either had a really good escape plan or a death wish.
He turned to leave the room, only to be nearly hit by the door as it swung open, admitting Alec Selwyn.
Regulus' eyes widened comically.
Selwyn smirked, "Kreacher let me in and your mother told me I could come on up," he answered the unasked question.
"What's up?" Regulus asked in a horrible attempt at sounding casual.
Selwyn raised an eyebrow, "Just heard what we were doing tonight… Thought I'd come by - in case you were planning to do anything stupid."
"Why would I?" Regulus said as if vaguely amused by the suggestion.
Selwyn gave him an unreadable look. "Okay then," he said. "A bunch of us are going to the Lestrange's to go over what we know about the Bones' defenses. You should come with." His tone was light, though the look he gave him conveyed he would not be letting him out of his sight any time soon.
When the scene changed, Regulus was in the field, mere meters from the spot he had apparated to that morning. He shifted uncomfortably as he watched the stone house in the distance. There was a death eater on either side of him, and more on the other side of them, encircling the house, all waiting for a signal to attack.
What they didn't realize was that thanks to an anonymous tip, Sirius had never dreamed was Regulus, Order members and Aurors alike were setting up around them, preparing to attack first.
The hair stood up on Sirius' neck as the oppressive feeling of anti-apparition wards formed around them. Regulus exchanged a look with Selwyn clearly not having expected them. Blue sparks were lit in the distance and the first round of penetration spells were fired at the protections surrounding the house. As they were casting at the house, it became pure chaos as the Aurors and Order members surrounding them attacked.
Not having cast a spell at the house, Regulus was one of the first to react. He pushed Selwyn out of the way of a curse. Even with only being able to see his eyes, Selwyn's look of 'what did you do?' was clear.
Death eaters were being picked off and captured with vigor. At a time of increasing hopelessness, this night had been an unparalleled bright spot for the opposition against Voldemort. It was also likely because of this night that the Bones family was targeted relentlessly afterwards.
It was Remus who threw the first spell at Regulus. He deflected it and ran. Remus would later tell him he looked like he was overwhelmed, even wildly speculating he had come to regret joining the death eaters given his presumed death occurred only hours after. It was clear from the memory what he was really trying to get away from – dueling Edgar. Maliah's eldest brother would have been an undesirable opponent for anyone, but Sirius suspected Regulus' reasons for avoiding him were more on a personal level.
The scene shifted and Regulus was in a copse of trees. His eyes were trained on Wilkes, who had been bound by Aurors though they had turned their backs on him, their attention drawn to other opponents. Regulus cast a severing charm at the magical bonds that bound him, to no avail. Wilkes looked back at him and angled himself in a way he could be better reached.
Regulus cast a cutting charm, and it was enough to set him free – with the minor setback of slicing through half his arm. Regulus cast another cutting charm on the ties that bound his legs, this time managing not to cut him. Wilkes nodded in thanks and took off running. Around that time the Aurors realized what was happening. Regulus took a stride towards Wilkes, intent to get out of the vicinity, but was tripped spectacularly, the effect of a tripping jinx. He turned around quickly and matching silver eyes met.
The Sirius in the memory gave him a look of utmost loathing before disarming him and directing the Aurors in the direction Wilkes had gone. It occurred to Sirius how twisted both of their morals were. He had just ensured his death eater brother wasn't caught by Aurors, while Regulus, who had seemingly changed sides in the war, helped his death eater friend escape capture.
Regulus stared after Sirius for a moment before realizing his way was now clear. He retrieved his wand and took off in a sprint to the edge of the anti-apparition wards and disapparated.
It was dark outside when Regulus returned to Grimmauld Place. His eyes were wide but determined. He immediately found Kreacher in his cupboard.
"Will you take me to the cave?" He requested. "The cave where the Dark Lord took you."
Kreacher's eyes looked upward as if considering orders from someone upstairs. Whatever the orders, they evidently did not override Regulus' request. He gave a great shudder, and grasped Regulus' arm before disapparating with him with a loud 'pop'.
Sirius was submerged in darkness. He kept expecting his eyes would adjust but even with Regulus' lit wand beside him, he could barely see where he was walking.
As they continued to walk, he was able to discern they were standing on the edge of a black lake, large enough Sirius could not make out the distant banks, in a cavern so high the ceiling was likewise out of sight. A misty greenish light shone far away in what looked like the middle of the lake; it was reflected in the completely still water below. The greenish glow nor the light from Regulus' wand were enough to break through the darkness of the cave. It was somehow darker than normal darkness.
Their footsteps echoed as they walked along the narrow rim of rock that surrounded the lake. The scenery did not change as they walked – the rough cavern wall on one side of them, and on the other, the boundless expanse of black lake, where from the middle, exuded that mysterious green glow.
Regulus helped Kreacher pull up a tiny boat from the depths of the lake. Sirius got a sickened feeling as the two of them boarded the tiny boat. Regulus held his wand over the lake as it carried them to the island. He caught sight of a dead woman lying face-up, her open eyes misted as though with cobwebs while her long hair swirled around her wildly. He pulled back his wand then and Sirius caught sight of his face. He looked defiant rather than afraid.
They arrived on the island and Regulus approached the basin filled with emerald potion that emitted that phosphorescent glow. He waved his wand over it for a moment, testing out other possibilities, before conjuring a goblet. He rotated the cup in his hand, stalling for a moment. Kreacher reached a bony hand for the goblet, ending Regulus' hesitation.
"I have to drink all of this," Regulus told Kreacher. He pulled out a mokeskin pouch and put his wand inside before tucking it back into his robes.
Kreacher gaped at him before pleading, "Kreacher will do it again."
"No," Regulus said firmly. He reached into his pocket. "You will ensure I drink all of the potion – even if I tell you to stop, you are not to do so. When the basin is empty, you will switch the lockets. Destroy the "real" locket – the one in the basin. Destroy the locket- and no matter what happens, you can never tell anyone in the family about this. You will have no idea what happened to me. Do you understand?"
Kreacher nodded obediently but then screeched as Regulus raised a cupful of the fluorescent potion to his lips. He quickly drank and refilled the cup twice more before hesitating. He backed away from the basin in confusion and sat down. By the rigidity of his body it was clear he was in pain though no sound escaped his lips.
Thick tears fell from Kreacher's eyes as he took the goblet from Regulus' hand and refilled it with potion and fed it to him, again and again. Regulus' face contorted in anguish. He covered his eyes with his hands and rubbed furiously as if trying to clear away images he didn't want to see. Still, very few sounds escaped his lips, conscious just enough to know he couldn't tell Kreacher to stop, less he might take it as an order.
"Master Regulus has to keep drinking," Kreacher whimpered, bringing the cup again to his lips.
When at last he had taken the last drink, Kreacher switched the lockets. While he was doing so, Regulus opened his eyes and looked around blankly. His eyes settled on the water and he crawled towards the island's edge. He scooped water into his hands and drank.
Just as Kreacher had said, dead hands belonging to the inferi came out of the water and dragged Regulus beneath its surface. Kreacher's eyes widened in horror at seeing his beloved master go under.
Sirius' stomach turned as he was forced to accept his brother came here with no real hope of leaving.
Kreacher Disapparated. The house-elf's highest law is his master's bidding, after all.
Everything went black. Sirius couldn't see any way Regulus could have survived.
After a moment he heard muffled voices.
Slowly, very slow, they became clearer.
A girl's commanding voice came through, "I don't care what orders he gave you, if you want him to live, you'll help me!"
More blackness.
Sirius felt distinctly nauseated despite it being Regulus' memory. It was reminiscent of a time he was sick as a child and his mother Disapparated him to St. Mungo's, and he promptly vomited on the floor of their lobby.
At long last, an image came into focus. Regulus might have been dead, quite honestly. He was lying on a bed, not at Grimmauld Place. His skin had a yellowish tint, apart from his lips, which appeared to be slightly blue. He was covered with several blankets despite the room being very warm. His only visible skin was his face and it was marred by angry welts, from the apparent Inferi that tried to drown him. Maliah was sitting beside him, watching. His eyelids fluttered a few times before opening, and quickly shutting again, blinded by the sudden brightness.
He opened them again, this time focusing on her for a moment before his eyes flitted away to the rest of the room.
"I'm… not dead," he rasped, each word sounded physically painful.
The worry in her face waned some, replaced by stoicism "It is surely my imagination you seem disappointed."
"I don't expect I've got long left," he said with an air of indifference. Maliah's stoic mask slipped, and for a second it looked as if she would cry. "Warning your father was the least of my betrayal," he assured her.
"What is this?" she asked, holding up the heavy gold locket. From the Serpentine S, inlaid with glittering, green stones, Sirius recognized it was the one Kreacher had stolen from the cave.
Upon seeing the Horcrux in Maliah's possession, Regulus was overcome with what must have been a surge of panic. Maliah cast the locket aside, and was attempting to calm him down as the scene changed...
When it reformed, Regulus was sitting up in bed. Maliah's father was sitting in the chair Maliah had previously occupied; Maliah had moved to sit on the edge of Regulus' bed. Her brother Edgar was there too, leaning against the closed door.
"Edgar managed to bind the magic from your dark mark," the Bones patriarch said. "You won't have as much strength in that arm while the binding spell is in place – and if it becomes known you're alive, it is possible Voldemort will find a way around it."
Regulus instinctively looked down at his left arm that was bandaged from the elbow down. "How much less strength?" he asked warily.
"With luck, you'll be strong enough to hold a baby in no time," Edgar said drolly. The moment the words left his mouth, he jerked as if he had been stung. He shot Maliah an irritated look.
"We'll leave you to talk," their father said, rising to his feet...
When the scene reformed, Regulus looked a bit more like himself. He was out of bed at least, sitting in an armchair, across from Maliah's father.
The elder man's expression was solemn as he observed him. "You have shown remarkable improvement since Maliah brought you here. I expect you will be back on your feet before long... have you considered what you will do next?"
"I have to destroy the Horcrux."
"And then what?"
Regulus didn't seem to have an answer for that.
"I'm getting to be an old man myself," he continued after a moment. An odd look crossed Regulus' face at the subject change. "I've raised my children; traveled the world. I've found people everywhere – magic or muggle, regardless of country are far more alike than they are different. Ultimately, the most important thing, at least for most people, is knowing their loved ones are safe." He hesitated, "Few people are safe now, but your parents might be - so long as they remain in Voldemort's good graces. What do you think would happen if you made contact with them?"
"They are safer if I don't," Regulus acknowledged.
The scene changed and Regulus was with Edgar. They were standing outside a cottage with a steep, thatched roof that Sirius did not recognize. The warm breeze and blooming flowers hinted it was the beginning of spring. Regulus appeared to have primarily recovered from his ordeal in the cave. Physically, that is. His usual calm demeanor, had been replaced with agitation and restlessness.
Edgar was subtly observing him. "Do you have the Horcrux on you?"
With some reluctance, Regulus withdrew the locket from beneath his robes and handed it to him.
Curiously, the moment it was out of his possession, he seemed to be more at ease.
Edgar's eyes lingered on him for long enough to notice the shift, as if expecting it, before dropping his gaze to the Horcrux in his hand. Sirius had moved closer to study it as well. The locket looked just the same then as it had when Maliah asked Regulus about it after the cave incident. If any effort had been made to destroy the locket in the time since, there was no evidence of it.
"My father placed the Fidelius Charm on this place years ago, when Voldemort first rose to power." Edgar said casually. "It was meant to be safe house in case anything befell our ancestral home. You should know he would die before giving up the location of any of his children and that probably goes double for Maliah since she is the baby of the family and now pregnant herself." With that, he tossed the Horcux into a nearby chair.
"Why did you do that?" Regulus asked in surprise. His instinct was obviously to immediately retrieve it.
"It is just as safe there as it is around your neck. At the least, you need a break from it," Edgar cautioned. "It is affecting you."
Regulus seemed to already know that he was right and didn't argue, nor did he go after the locket just then, though his eyes lingered on it as if he wanted to.
"You must know I want to be rid of it. I've used more dark magic in the past month, trying to destroy it, than I ever did as a death eater. As I haven't got a basilisk, Fiendfyre is the only known method of destroying a Horcrux that is viable. And yet, it made no impact whatsoever when I've tried it."
"I wouldn't say that," Edgar said wryly. "The back garden will never look the same."
"That wasn't from Fiendfyre," Regulus admitted in an undertone. Before Edgar could ask, he continued, "I am certain the locket must be destroyed from within. I've tried everything I know to open it, but it will not budge."
"Maybe if we put it into a corrosive substance, it would seep inside," Edgar said thoughtfully. "Of course, any basilisk venom for sale will be counterfeit."
"Herpo the Foul bred his own basilisk," Regulus said as if it was viable option.
"I'm torn between suggesting you're as mad as your family is reputed and asking if you have a chicken egg and a toad."
Regulus smirked vaguely at that, though a crease had formed between his eyes. "Do you think he bred the basilisk in order to destroy his own Horcrux?"
"If that was the case we would know, wouldn't we?"
"From when we studied Horcruxes at school, do you mean?"
"Not Horcruxes, but we did learn about Herpo the Foul," said Edgar. "He was a Parselmouth who created all sorts of dark magic. I was never given the impression he changed later in life."
"Maybe he didn't destroy it out of remorse, but was simply ready to die after living for a near-millennium," Regulus contemplated. "He did a lot of experimenting with basilisk venom. He would have known - or at least suspected what would happen if he put the venom in contact with his Horcrux. He might have done it himself, or else told the snake to..." he trailed off, as if caught up in his own thoughts. Edgar did not interrupt them, but waited for him to continue on his own.
"I wonder if Acromantula venom would be strong enough," Regulus said eventually.
That was not the line of thought Sirius had expected him to be on, nor Edgar, judging from the look he gave him. "I suppose I'll be making a trip to Knockturn Alley," he said grimly.
"No, I'll get it on my own-"
"Absolutely not," Edgar said at once. "It is too dangerous for you to be out in public in Britain, nor can you risk drawing attention to yourself by leaving the country. When the inevitable time comes for you and Maliah to leave, it will be permanent."
Sirius had a suspicion that he may not have needed to venture out to get the poison. They did have their own stores in Grimmauld Place, after all.
"You don't need to be out either-" Regulus attempted to object.
"I'll take the Prewett twins with me and be just fine."
When the scene changed, Regulus could be seen wielding Fiendfyre on what must have been the locket. Peculiarly, a little girl nearing toddler-age was sitting on the ground nearby. From her shock of dark curls and watchful eyes, Sirius recognized it was Regulus' daughter. He could not fathom why she would have been allowed in such close proximity to the cursed fire, or where her mother was for that matter, though she was watching the scene unfold as if mesmerized.
When the flames went out, Sirius glimpsed the scorched Horcrux on the ground. It was unclear if the Regulus in the memory had even realized that it was successfully destroyed yet. For when the Fiendfyre burned out, his expression remained anxious, and he went at once to his daughter.
The scene went black before Sirius could see more, signaling the end of the memories that had been shared.