It was dark. Dark and cold, with the breath burning in his lungs as he struggled for freedom. Wet, clammy hands clutched at him, scraping and pulling downwards into the depths, and a black terror blossomed in his heart. He would die here. He would die, and no one would know of the Dark Lord's weakness. The thought tore into him, a scathing shame, and he struggled harder, but it was no use. Then, just as he was about to give up, something changed. Light, burning and brilliant, consumed the darkness, and he heard a woman's voice whispering…
"You are mine."
XXX
Regulus woke with a start, gasping heavily. For several long seconds, it was all he could do to sit there, struggling to breathe and calm his racing heart. The dream was familiar to him, a comfortable terror which had haunted his dreams since that night in the cave. As the man finally brought his breathing down to something approaching normal, Regulus pulled himself off the bed, groping around in the darkness for the door.
He stumbled, lost and distracted, down the unfamiliar corridor to a door that looked like it might house a loo. Inside, he set the water running, hot and clean. Regulus splashed his face a couple times, reveling in the heat, before looking into the mirror. He was a mess, his dark hair that was usually so carefully styled thrown into a casual disarray, and his skin was even paler than usual.
"Regulus?" The voice, feminine and concerned, made Regulus jump and whirl, one hand grasping for a wand that wasn't there. A second later, he stopped, however, clutching his hand tightly against his leg as he recognized the red-haired woman.
"Miriel. I didn't mean to wake you." Even as he spoke, Regulus realized why he had been so lost before. Miriel, in a surprising moment of kindness, had offered him a guest room for the night. He must have woken her with his blind wanderings.
"It's fine." The woman said dismissively, waving a pale hand, before her eyes trailed down from his face. "Oh my god." She breathed, and for a moment he was confused. When Miriel stepped forward, however, her hand reaching up to touch his bare chest, he realized what the matter was. Regulus had slept shirtless for years, so it hadn't quite occurred to him that he was standing half-naked in a woman's bathroom. Just before her fingers touched, his hand snapped up to catch her wrist in an iron grip.
"Don't. Please." He said in an even harsher voice than he had expected. Surprisingly, there was no fear in Miriel's green eyes as they met his. Instead, he saw a depth of understanding that shocked him to his core. Slowly, he released her hand, exhaling sharply. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." MIriel smiled, dropping the appendage and leaning back against the doorjamb. Despite the nonchalance in her action, he could feel those striking eyes burning into him, roving over the myriad of scars that chronicled his childhood. There were more, hidden where they weren't so easily seen, but it was more than enough to get the message across.
"How did you get them?" MIriel's voice was soft, but still Regulus's head shot up to stare at her, his cold grey gaze burning with surprise. "If you don't mind my asking, I mean." For a long, long moment, Regulus stared at the woman, Unsure of what to say. He was… lost, lost and confused. Two days ago the Black heir had been utterly alone in the world, with no one and nothing he could trust. Now… now Miriel Puck had swept into his life with reckless abandon, turning it upside down in a matter of hours. There was something about the woman, a warmth and light that drew him in. He had never known someone to be so utterly kind. She had protected little Harry as much as possible, and Regulus felt her pain at not doing more. And when Miriel offered her guest room for him to stay the night, a veritable stranger with only her dreams to guide her, The man had thought he might be swallowed by the wave of gratitude that swept through him. Since his earliest memories, Regulus had never been shown such thoughtless consideration. Even the kiss, as much a shock as it had been a pleasure, was given with nothing more expected.
"My mother." Regulus began slowly, meeting Miriel's eyes carefully. "She, was a very broken woman. Not like usual, by grief or something similar, but fundamentally. And she was of the belief that the Cruciatus curse lacks a personal touch." That was all he said, but it was enough. MIriel nodded once, and Regulus, suddenly overcome by memories, turned back to the sink and closed his eyes. He didn't know how long he stood there, rough hands gripping the cool porcelain so tight it felt about to break, before a feather-light touch on his shoulder made him jerk in surprise.
"What's this?" Miriel asked curiously, and Regulus shivered as her silken skin brushed against his. The spot she was tapping wasn't a scar; he knew each of those intimately. But it was marked unnaturally, with a tattoo this time. Unlike the Dark Mark that stood out against his pale forearm-and how thankful was he that she hadn't mentioned it- this mark was pure white, taking the shape of a six-pointed star with an eye in the center.
"I-I don't actually know." Regulus answered hesitantly, struggling against the urge to push the woman away. "It appeared after the cave." Miriel, unsurprisingly, frowned and pulled her hand away.
"So six months ago, about?" She asked, and there was something in her voice that made Regulus's eyes narrow.
"Yeah, about." He answered carefully, turning to face the woman. "Why does it matter?" Miriel didn't answer with words. She turned, shrugging the thin strap of her nightgown off to reveal the back of a single pale shoulder. There, just under her shoulder-blade, like the joint of an unseen wing, was the exact same symbol, only in a pale green. Regulus's fingers were light as he touched it hesitantly.
"What does this mean?" he asked quietly, staring at the mark that was nearly identical to his own. Magical markings didn't just happen. It had to have some purpose.
"I don't know…" Miriel sighed, leaning into his touch. Regulus smiled at the reaction. Before he could say anything, however, the woman stiffened under his hand. He pulled back instantly, grimacing.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" He trailed off, not quite sure what to say. REgulus had never been one for dating, or any kind of intimacy really. Even those few girls he looked at in school were little more than idle fantasies before the Dark Lord drew him in and Regulus forgot all about romance. So he was surprised when Miriel shook her head after turning around, a small smile on her lips.
"It's okay Regulus, really." She said, pulling the strap back up. "Really, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I know you're a good man, and you would never help me, but i keep forgetting we're practically strangers. I don't even want to know what my mother would think." Regulus nodded slowly, accepting that. Mirirel was an extraordinarily attractive woman, especially now with her hair mussed by sleep and dressed in a loose sleeping gown. He could easily imagine all sorts of indecent thoughts someone might have seeing the two of them together, let alone those lurking at the back of his own mind. It would be best not to push the already generous hospitality she had extended him, especially with Hermione just a few doors down and easily awoken.
"Of course. I'll just… go back to my room. Goodnight, Miriel." He nodded to the red-head, pointedly ignoring her mischievously glittering eyes and poorly-hidden smile, before returning back the way he came and collapsing back into bed. After a long moment of laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, he brought one hand to his face, groaning quietly. "Merlin's beard, I need a cold shower."
XXX
The next day dawned bright and early, and Miriel hated it for that. After her little encounter with Regulus in the bathroom, she'd hardly gotten any sleep, her dreams filled with the dark-haired man, more mundanely than usual. Then she had to get up at god-only-knows O'clock to feed Hermione and change her diapers, and there was little enough chance of sleeping after that she just gave it up for lost and turned on the TV. Even now, at noon, she was wincing in the sunlight while examining the small house before her.
Remus Lupin was, apparently, a consummate bachelor, and even worse, he was a poor one. The shack was small, not quite falling apart but certainly run-down, and more than likely had definite issues with , there was a mildly homey feeling it that made Miriel think she might not mind any of that too much. Either way, they weren't here for the house, but its owner.
"Are you sure he's there?" Miriel asked quietly, eyeing the empty driveway. Beside her, Regulus nodded, his own gaze directed more towards the neighbors houses, none of them in much better condition.
It's a full moon tomorrow, so he'll probably be in sorting out his arrangements, if not just too weak to move much. And you know wizards don't use cars often. The driveway won't tell you anything." There was a hint of humor to his voice as he answered, and when Miriel turned to frown at him, he was indeed wearing a small smirk. Miriel glared, before huffing.
"Well excuse me for being used to sensible modes of transportation. Whoever came up with brooms and fireplaces to travel was a veritable idiot." The smirk widened, but Regulus said nothing, merely glancing from side to side one last time before nodding.
"Alright, let's go." Miriel rolled her eyes at his antics, but stepped off the curb with him to cross the street. She knew Regulus had been in a war, a very bad one in fact, but they were in the middle of a small muggle town not far from Little Whinging, and several months removed besides. Anyone stupid enough to attack this Lupin in broad daylight for his part hardly would have escaped prison to be able.
There were several long moments of awkward silence after Regulus rung the doorbell, both him and Miriel shifting where they stood, until finally a faint voice called "Coming!" Several more passed, punctuated by rapidly loudening footsteps until a latch could be heard opening, and finally the door swung open. Regulus stiffened beside her, opening his mouth to speak, but before a word could escape Miriel heard another voice, filled with awe and disbelief.
"Regulus? Is that you?" Remus was, surprisingly, not at all what Miriel had expected when Regulus described him. Tall, with dark brown hair and darker eyes, yes, but rather than a relaxed, lanky man with a solidly bookish aura and glasses, she was met with a man beset by exhaustion, stopped ever so slightly and possessing dark bags under his eyes. There was a sort of tension around Remus too, the coiled readiness of a predator about to spring. This was no man they were staring at, but a wolf wearing his skin, weakened by disease but still dangerous.
"It's me, Remus. I'm alive." Miriel watched with fascination as the brown-haired man blinked in surprise, before, suddenly a great deal of the tension in his body drained away, and a tired smile stretched across his face. Suddenly, Remus appeared far warmer, his eyes brightening with a kind happiness.
"So you are. Come in, please." And just like that, he ushered the two of them inside, Miriel blinking all the while. She hadn't quite expected it to be that easy, from the way Regulus had talked about it. Surprise and suspicion warred within her as she stepped into the house, glancing around. It was, as she saw outside, rather small, with a short hallway housing two door, likely the bedroom and bathroom, down one side of the house, and then a wide open sitting room separated from the kitchen/dining area by a short wall and counter. Even the furniture matched her expectations exactly, a run down couch and armchair around the old stained coffee table which sat before a stone fireplace, and in the dining room sat a dark oak table and four rickety chairs around it. Simple functional, but oddly cozy. When she turned around to hand her coat to her host, she was brought up short by a long piece of wood pointing at her nose.
"Right." Remus said seriously, any semblance of the friendliness he had worn just moments before gone. "Now, you two are going to tell me who you really are, or things will get unpleasant."Miriel blinked in surprise, not sure if she wanted to be happy or worried. For one, at least the man wasn't so foolish as to accept them so easily, but for another she currently had a potentially lethal weapon pointed right at her. Miriel's own wand was hardly on her person, living as a muggle as she had been, and Regulus was behind her, unable to get a clear shot should something go wrong.
"Remus," Regulus started, and Miriel could just imagine him holding up his hand in a placating manner, but the sudden spark of magic at the tip of the werewolf's wand shut him up.
"Don't Remus me." the named man said, his face twisting into a snarl. "Regulus was a friend. Not close, perhaps, but a friend nonetheless, and he was murdered by the Dark Lord. How dare you defile his memory like this?" There was a shifting behind Miriel, and then Regulus sighed.
"March thirteenth, nineteen seventy nine. That's the night I showed up at your doorstep half-dead from blood loss and with two Death Eater corpses on my back." Remus's wand wavered. For a long moment, Miriel was afraid that Regulus's admission wouldn't be enough, even as she struggled to comprehend what he had said herself. She knew that Regulus would have killed, but that was different from hearing him actually admit it. Then the piece of wood dropped, and Miriel was left with a man slumping until he seemed almost to fold entirely in on himself.
"Godric damn it. I'm too tired for this shit." Remus muttered, before looking up, past Miriel's shoulder with an inscrutable expression. '"Who's the bird, Regulus? Don't tell me it's Lily's long lost sister or something. I might still hex you." There was silence for a moment as Miriel heard a small choked sound from behind her, but she ignored it. Instead, the red-haired woman chose to answer herself, not a small hint of her annoyance at being talked over slipping into her voice.
"My name is Miriel, thank you. And if Lily is who I think then no, we're not related." Remus looked at her, blinking in surprise, before finally just shaking his head and sighing.
"Whatever. Come on, let's actually sit down before talking, if this is going to be serious. I'll put on some tea." Miriel, unable to find an excuse not to, complied, following Regulus as they seated themselves on the couch in the sitting room. There was silence for several minutes as Remus prepared the tea, using a battered old tea-set that looked like it had come from the dark ages, before finally he returned and set the tray on the coffee table, settling the free armchair and peering at the two of them over his own cup.
"So." He said finally, breaking the silence. "What brings a dead man and his precocious armcandy to my humble abode?" MIriel and Regulus glanced at each other, apprehension evident in their features. Miriel, personally, was a touch offended. Armcandy, really? That was somewhat rude, though she was having difficulty blaming him. The man had pretty much been ambushed on a day that was already trying. Before she could say anything, however, Regulus spoke up, meeting Remus's stare seriously.
"Harry's being abused, Remus." That got a reaction, as Remus's eyes bulged, and he swallowed the tea in his mouth hastily, coughing all the while. Regulus held no pity however, continuing without pause. "Whoever decided he should go to his aunt and uncle instead of his godfather, needs to be hexed to kingdom come. They're keeping him in a broom closet, starving him, Remus. Even I'm surprised, and I remember Severus telling me in school how bad Lily's sister was." Disgust curled the dark-haired man's lip, and Miriel found herself matching it. Just thinking of the horrible things the Dursley had been doing, and to their own flesh and blood? If there was a Hell, then they had spots waiting with their names engraved in stone.
"How do you know this?" Remus asked finally, once he was no longer coughing. There was something dark in his eyes now, lurking just beyond sight as his gaze burned into Regulus. The other man grimaced, shaking his head.
'I just found him yesterday, myself, but what little I saw there was a mess already. Miriel's been trying to help him for a while though, before she even realized who he was." In an instant, that dark gaze had shifted to her, and Miriel had to struggle not to quail beneath it. Remus may not have as piercing a stare as Regulus, but it was certainly close, and resembled a lurking beast farr too much for comfort.
"I live just a couple blocks away," Miriel said as way of explanation, swallowing a gulp of tea. "I've been watching over my cousin Hermione who's about his age, and a couple months ago they met at the park. The two took to each other like fish to water, and eventually I volunteered to babysit. When I learned just how those monsters were treating Harry though, I started doing my best to help, little though it is." With every word, Remus seemed to sink further and further into the cushions of his chair, grief and the weight of responsibility settling over his features like a cloud. If Miriel understood correctly, Remus was a good friend of Harry's parents and considered them family. To hear that their son was being so horribly mistreated must have hurt.
'I would have taken him." Remus said finally, after a long moment of silence. His expression was broken, lost and forlorn as he stared into the cup in his hands. "If Dumbledore had even asked, I would happily have said yes. But instead, he takes Harry and hands him off to his muggle relatives without even an explanation. But they didn't trust me."
"What about Sirius? He was Harry's godfather." Regulus asked, a frown creasing his face. Surprisingly, however, Remus just snorted in disgust.
"The bloody traitor? Why in all the hells would Harry ever be entrusted to him? Regulus blinked at that, rocking back. Miriel shifted in surprise herself. Regulus had seemed so certain that his brother was their best option to rescue Harry, but could he have been wrong?
"What do you mean, traitor?" Regulus asked after yet another moment of silence. "Peter was the worm, not Sirius." This time, it was Remus's turn to blink, staring blan-faced at Regulus.
"What?" Was the eloquent reply, shock evident on his face. Again, Regulus frowned, explaining.
"Peter was the traitor that told Voldemort where to find the Potters. I never got the chance to warn you or Dumbledore-They were watching me too closely and I had my own mission to do-but I saw him speaking to the Dark Lord myself. Apparently Sirius got too clever and suggested pulling a bait and switch with their secret-keepers, but Pettigrew had already been terrified into turning coat." Yet again, silence reigned as Remus blinked rapidly, paling more with every second as Regulus's revelation began to set in. Then he whispered, horrified, "Oh fuck." Regulus paused, his frown deepening.
"Remus," he started, and there was an edge to his voice that made Miriel shiver. "What's happened to my brother?" This time, when Remus met his eye, it was not suspicion or curiosity that lurked his gaze, but a stark apology.
"I'm sorry, Regulus." He said, utterly morose. "Sirius is in Azkaban."