AN: Again, I want to thank you for all the wonderful comments and support! I am also going to warn that there will be mentions of paedophilia and past sexual abuse of minors in this chapter (as stated in the tags before the first chapter.) It isn't very descriptive, if anything it is pretty vague, but I thought it was best to give a heads up.
JJFicFreak : Thank you!And although I see where you're going with the Harry/ Death ship, this story won't be one of those. I have read a few that are pretty good though, so it might be something for a future story instead. Death will be more of a parental figure/ mentor/ friend in this story. As for Harry's Peverell Persona, It should be coming to play properly in wizarding society at around chapter 28. So unfortunately it is still a way to go, but there is plenty happening before then.
Bleach-ed-Na-tsu : I have to admit, this is probably the nicest comment I've gotten here on FF! I'm glad someone else other than me is enjoying my world-building, because there is a lot of it. I always like for things to make 'sense' and sometimes I get so hyper-focused that I spend literal hours researching a tiny little thing that has almost no bearing on the story, but I just want it to be as realistic and accurate as possible. I'll be honest and admit that I haven't decided what to do about Remus yet. It is a very tricky situation. He is so indebted to Dumbledore that Harry will have trouble actually trusting him, no matter how much he cares for him. Only time will tell I suppose.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Harry took in a deep breath of fresh air. He didn't think he'd ever stop to marvel over how beautiful Resurrection Island was. He had finally acquired a tent of good quality from Horizont Alley. He planned to set it up permanently, or at least until the house on the island was restored.
He used his new broom, a Comet 220, to circle around the open area of the island, trying to find the perfect place to pitch his tent. Being back in the air was exhilarating. Even if the broom was nowhere near as fast as his old one, flying brought a sense of absolute freedom. In the air nothing else mattered. He let himself bask in the release of endorphins for a few minutes before continuing his search.
In the end he found a nice and flat spot not far away from the house. It was in a large and open glade surrounded by oak trees. It was a peaceful area. Harry flew down to have a closer look. It was perfect. After seeing the carnage that had come from the expansion charms failing on the old barns, he didn't dare settle down close to them.
"Oh, this is nice." Lily said, once again appearing out of the blue. At least this time she had the decency to do it in front of him and not from behind.
"Are you setting up your tent here?" She curiously asked.
"Yeah." He fished the matchbox sized, folded tent out of his satchel and placed it on the ground. With a tap of his wand, the tent expanded and folded outwards, rearranging itself until it looked like a classical, muggle tent meant for two people at the most. The outer fabric was brown with orange accents. Harry pulled aside the fabric door and looked over his shoulder. "Why did you disappear earlier? I wanted to introduce you to Morticia. " He snickered at his own, silly dig at Death and stepped inside.
Lily was quiet as she followed her son. She hesitated before saying, "It isn't done. We don't speak with Death unless he calls for us. For me to force myself on your company while Death was with you… it would be extremely rude."
Harry just blinked in bafflement. It was hard to correlate the freely spoken arsehole of a being that Death was in his company, compared to the reverent respect Lily and Gerrard Peverell held for the deity.
"He cares for you though, that much I can tell." She smiled softly. "The rest of us are nothing special to him, just another soul among billions, but you? You are unique. One of a kind."
Harry felt his cheeks heat up. "It's only because he needs someone to be his anchor. It isn't me he's really interested in, it could be anyone." Harry mumbled. Even though Death had said it would take someone special to become his Master, Harry still struggled to believe him. There was nothing special about him. Well, that's what he liked to think, even though the world seemed to disagree.
"I don't think you're right." Lily voiced softly. "I believe you were picked specifically. I mean, think about it. What are the odds of you surviving a curse that means instant death, only because of an untested sacrificial ritual? It's microscopic. How do you know Lord Death didn't give a helping hand so to speak?"
Harry frowned. "He's not allowed to interfere with the balance of life and death, he said so himself."
"Maybe." His mother hummed dubiously.
"It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head "Feel free to look around, I'm just going to set up some wards. I'll be quick." Technically the island was already warded and should be safe, but after living through a war it was only natural to become paranoid. Using the Elder Wand in his ring, he set up various wards in a 20 feet radius around the tent. It would keep away animals, insects and humans, in addition it would obscure sound and scents that came from within the warded area. He'd immediately be alerted if someone or something managed to surpass the ward line.
Harry returned to the tent. As soon as he stepped inside there was a warm and welcoming entrance hall that led into a large and homely living area. There was a grand fireplace in the centre with two comfortable wingback chairs and a sofa placed around a dark wooden coffee table. The walls and decorations were carefully selected in tones of caramel, cream and rusty browns. It gave the room a comforting feel. It was somewhere Harry could picture himself curled up in front of the fire with a good book and a cup of tea.
To the left of the sitting group stood a large dining table with eight chairs placed around it. The tent had mostly been furnished when he acquired it, a perk of having a money pouch full of Galleons. "What do you think?" He asked when he noticed his mother coming from the direction of his study.
"It's beautiful, but it must have cost you a fortune." She frowned. "Just because you have money doesn't mean you have to spend it all."
Harry snorted. "I know mum. Yes it was expensive, but it is an investment that was worth it. This is going to be my home for most likely years to come. I'd rather get something a little more expensive and have everything I need rather than finding myself missing something and then regretting it. It's not like I bought a mansion or something. Plus you'll be happy to know that I made sure any elves will have their own room with an en suite." He grinned widely. He was actually really excited to show it to Ditty after he was done with it. He planned on shrinking all the furniture in the room and bathroom so it was appropriate for an elf.
Lily beamed at her son. "I'm sure Ditty will love it!"
"Yeah, I still feel bad knowing she's slept in that old house for so many years… it's a wonder she's still alive."
Harry walked around the tent, that was more like a large house
When you first came in the entrance, there was a bathroom to the right. A few steps further ahead the hallway split up, forwards leading to the living room and the right hall leading to the two guestrooms, each with their own bathroom. Once inside the living room there was another little hall to the right. This would take you to the study or the master bedroom. To the left of the living room was the kitchen, potions lab, hobby room and elf quarters, amongst other things.
All the rooms were decorated in calm and homely colours. After six years surrounded by the screamingly bright red of the Gryffindor dorms, he was happy to live in a place with more earthy and lighter colours. This was his first home and he loved it already. It was all his and no one else's.
He began pulling things out of his satchel and placing them around the house. Food and tea went into the kitchen cabinets, new towels in the bathrooms, he put on freshly cleaned sheets in the master bedroom as well as placing his clothes in the walk-in closet. In the elf quarters he shrank the two single beds so they were child sized, continuing the process with the rest of the furniture in there. He wanted to surprise Ditty. Again he put on sheets and made the beds. He only had one elf for now but that would hopefully change soon. Harry looked around himself and was satisfied with the result.
"Ditty!" He called, putting the translation charm on himself, and her once she arrived.
"Master Peverell calls. What can Ditty do for the young Lord?" The elderly elf asked.
Harry smiled fondly at her and crouched down so they were more equal. "This is your new room Ditty. You might have to share it with another elf eventually but for now it is all yours. There is a bathroom to the right with everything you might need, and if I've forgotten something, all you have to do is ask okay?"
The little house-elf stared at him with wide, disbelieving, tennis-ball sized eyes. "For Ditty? You… got this for Ditty?" Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as thin and frail arms wrapped around him. Harry gently hugged her back.
"Yes, it's all yours." Harry mumbled and softly rubbed the crying elf's back. "There is food in the kitchen if you get hungry and hot water in the bathroom if you want to have a bath or shower. I placed some soaps and toiletries in there for you."
"Lord Peverell is s-s-so kind." Ditty sobbed. Harry waited until she let go before he stood up again.
His mother watched it all with an overwhelmingly loving smile. "I'm proud of you, Harry." she said quietly.
Harry returned her smile. "Ditty, when you have the time, could you transport my loom and equipment over from Privet Drive? I have a room set up for it down the hall from here. I'll show you where it is."
Ditty finally stopped crying and seemed to get herself under control. She gave a firm nod and followed after the Lord of the estate.
"You don't have to do it right now, but sometime before tonight would be appreciated. My…" Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Relatives will be coming back from holiday then, and I'd rather not take the risk of them seeing anything magical, even though my room is warded."
"Ditty will do it right away Lord Peverell." She said and popped away before Harry could put up a protest.
"I… guess that's sorted then?" He looked at his mother who merely laughed.
"Why don't you make yourself something to eat and tell me what your account managers said? How is the Potter estate faring? It should have accumulated some interest in the years we've been dead." She said, blissfully unaware of the reality of the matter.
Harry grimaced. His mother was not going to like what he had to tell her. "Are you sure you want to know?" Harry asked slowly.
"Yes of course. Why wouldn't I?" Lily replied with a puzzled expression.
Harry grimaced again. "There isn't anything left in the Potter vault… not in the way of money." He said it quickly, like ripping off a plaster.
His mother blinked and opened her mouth, completely bemused. "What do you mean there is nothing left? There were hundreds of thousand Galleons, possibly millions!"
The young wizard let out an explosive sigh and sank down into his wingback chair, watching the fire dance merrily over the logs in the fireplace.
"Dad donated it all to Dumbledore… it was supposedly for the war effort, but I don't know anymore. I find myself wondering what on earth went through his head. Kartaak didn't even seem to think that he was aware of just how much he was giving away. I don't know what's worse, that he's so dumb that he didn't read the cheques before he signed, or that he willingly gave away our entire fortune to Dumbledore. I get that it was war and he felt like he needed to help, but what did he think would happen if you won the war? He'd have been destitute, without a job and having a child to provide for." Harry sighed and sipped the tea Ditty had prepared for him without asking.
Lily was silently fuming. How dare he make such decisions without her. They had been married, every financial decision he made would affect them both, not to mention Harry. She was going to tear him a new arsehole as soon as she got her hands on him, peaceful afterlife be damned.
"You didn't know." Harry stated. "I'm sorry, but sometimes I wonder what you ever saw in him to be honest. I know you love him, and I suppose I do too in a way, but… I just don't understand. He was so cruel during school, so bigoted and irresponsible. You are like the complete opposite of him." Harry frowned.
Then a thought struck him, one that made his gut churn with nausea. "Did you… did you settle with him because you got pregnant?"
Lily was quiet, seemingly conflicted in what she wanted to say. "No. Not entirely. I'll admit that the pregnancy was what made us get married quicker than we had intended, but you weren't the reason why we were together." She spoke slowly, measuring her words.
"I honestly don't know if I can give you an answer that will satisfy you. Love isn't rational. And with him… there was a lot of arguing, things we didn't see eye to eye on. And after we got married I began to see different sides of him. I think that is when our varying upbringings showed the most. To him, a mother and wife should take care of the house and children, not work or have aspirations for a career. It was how he was raised. In addition, he wanted an entire Quidditch team of children, whereas I was happy with one or two. I refused to become a broodmare." She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Obviously we should have discussed all of that before we got married but… I was pregnant, it was war, and we were both young and in love." His mother sighed.
"What about now… in the afterlife. Do you… do you still want to be with him?" Harry hesitantly asked.
Lily was quiet, looking at the fire instead of her son. It made her auburn hair shimmer in the glow of the flames. Harry waited, letting her think.
"The realm of the dead, it's so different from being alive, Harry." She began. "Over there we are just incorporeal souls. A relationship like what you think of isn't the same there. Technically we aren't even married anymore. It is possible for souls to remain connected after death, but you'd have to do a bonding ceremony that included soul magic, and those have been illegal for decades. With good reason I might add. Tying yourself to someone in that manner for eternity is a big decision, bigger than anyone can ever make I think."
"I'm sorry you didn't get to live for long enough to figure out what you wanted to do with your life." Harry softly voiced.
"Yes. So am I. But I'm happy for the most part, so don't worry about me." She smiled.
They kept talking about the past and future, discussing Harry's goals in life amongst other things. At the end she reminded him to speak with Regulus Black, and he decided that it was something he'd do now that his mother was leaving. She said she was going to have a stern talk with James, Harry assumed it meant that she was going to yell at him.
He took a deep breath. Ditty had been kind enough to refill his cup of tea and bring a plate of biscuits. She was such a dear. Without further ado, Harry summoned the spirit of Sirius' younger brother.
"Good evening Mr Black." Harry smiled kindly at the extremely confused young man standing in front of him. Regulus was tall, much taller than Harry could ever hope to be, with wavy dark hair that reached to his shoulders. It was a style similar to Harry's own, and looking at Regulus made him realise that maybe he did indeed share more characteristics with the Blacks rather than the Potters. The cheekbones were the same as his own, high, sharp and aristocratic. They also shared a Greek nose. All in all, it made Regulus a very handsome teenager when you paired it with his pale skin and stormy, grey eyes.
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, good sir, for I do not know your name nor where I am." Regulus said, eyes having settled onto Harry, thankfully they were more curious than hostile.
Harry smiled but it was strained. For some reason he felt nervous. "I'm Harry Potter, or, Henry I suppose? Er… either way just call me Harry."
Regulus cocked an eyebrow at the less than stellar introduction. "Very well, Harry, it is a pleasure to meet you. Now, do you mind telling me why I'm here? And also where here is."
"It's a long story…" Harry hesitantly said.
"Well, seeing as I'm dead, I'm not exactly going anywhere am I?" Regulus snorted and seated himself in the chair opposite Harry.
"Er… no, I suppose not. " Harry bit his lip and clutched at his cup. "I'd offer you some tea but…"
"But I'm dead. Yes, yes, I'm aware, get on with it." Regulus gestured impatiently with his hand.
Harry sighed and began his story, he didn't go into as much detail as he had with his parents and Ignotus, but it was still a lot to get through. It got easier each time he told about his past, it was almost therapeutic in a way.
He swallowed hard when he got to the part about the cave and the Inferi, as bad as the memory was to him it surely must be much worse for Regulus. The spirit looked pale and green at the same time. Harry wondered if you could have panic attacks while being dead.
"That-" Regulus' Adams apple bobbed and he cleared his throat. "I thought it would work," his voice was hoarse. "Destroying the Horcrux… It was supposed to be my final act of good. He was supposed to become mortal." He looked devastated and Harry felt bad for having to bring him the bad news.
"I'm sorry."
"No. No, don't be. You fixed what I arrogantly started but couldn't complete. I'm the one who should be sorry for causing you such a mess." Regulus rubbed his face and took a deep breath, collecting himself. "Looking back at it, my ingenious plan was really quite ridiculous. I now see several ways that would have ensured my survival. I really messed up didn't I?" Regulus looked wretched.
"And poor Kreacher, all alone with that hag that calls herself mother. Not to mention an evil artefact he cannot destroy. Oh Merlin, Sirius in Azkaban." He hid his face in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.
Regulus was silent and the seconds ticked by. Harry started to get uncomfortable. Should he say something? Was he supposed to comfort the spirit? Offer words of encouragement? Fuck, he was so shit at this kind of thing.
Thankfully he didn't have to do anything. Regulus' head snapped up and he stared intensely at Harry. "So, how are you going to fix it this time? There has to be a reason you summoned me besides just a chat."
Harry wet his lips, feeling insecure in his own plans all of a sudden. "Er… well…"
"Please tell me you have a plan."
"Er… sorta?" Harry replied hesitantly.
"Well, do go on. Explain it to me." The dead teenager demanded.
Harry sighed. "Well, first I need to set up an adult identity for myself. My body and real identity as Harry Potter is only six in this timeline. I've talked to my account manager at Gringotts about it though, and he's going to establish my identity as Lord Peverell since I already have the lordship. I need to have a minimum of OWL results to be allowed to carry a wand though, so I'll have to sit those. I don't know if I'll have to take them at Hogwarts or if I'm able to go to the ministry." Harry sipped some tea, feeling Regulus urge him on with his eyes to get to the important parts.
"I'm not sure if your mother is still alive or not. I suppose I could try to summon her...although, I'd rather not talk to her. Maybe asking Death would be easier." Harry murmured the last part to himself.
"No need for any of that. I can confirm that she is dead, unfortunately." Regulus wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I try to stay as far away as possible."
"Oh… that makes things easier. Do you know who is Lord Black at the moment? Will he notice if someone enters Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked.
Regulus looked thoughtful. "The current Lord Black should be my grandfather Arcturus. You said that Sirius is set to inherit the title, which means that grandfather never changed his will." He leaned back in the chair and steepled his hands together on his stomach, still managing to look regal despite the position. "The wards should mostly be dormant for those of Black blood, only barring entrance to non family members. They aren't connected to Grandfather either so he shouldn't notice it if you went there. The problem would be the various portraits sending messages to whomever have their allegiance."
Harry thought about the second copy of Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait that hung in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. "Do you think I'd be able to bond Kreacher to myself?"
"I'm not sure." Regulus said pensively. "He is tightly bonded to the Black family, and although the blood you've gained from your grandmother is there, I don't know if it would be enough. It is certainly worth a try. But perhaps don't go as yourself, neither this form nor the child, just in case things don't work out."
Harry nodded. "I'm going to brew some Polyjuice potion soon. I can try to enter Grimmauld and talk to Kreacher when it's ready. Do you mind if I have the conversation in your bedroom? It has no portraits so there is a much smaller chance of them overhearing anything. I thought I'd use my Invisibility Cloak to get inside unseen."
The other waved his hand nonchalantly. " It's not like I have any use of it anymore, have at it. Take whatever you want while you're at it. I'm sure no one is going to miss it. Sirius is probably going to give it all to you anyway."
ΔΟΙ
After that, Regulus seemed to just... stick around. Whenever Death wasn't nearby, Regulus would be there. He'd join in on Harry's lessons with the other spirits, follow him to primary school to keep him entertained with interesting stories and magical theories, watch him weave his family tapestry for hours on end while providing snarky commentary, he simply didn't seem to want to leave.
Regulus had also taken it upon himself to teach Harry about pureblood culture and etiquette, because apparently Harry was a savage with the grace of a drunken Hippogriff, according to the pureblood. At least he was happy with the clothes he had gotten from Twilfitt and Tattings.
Harry for the most part didn't mind the other boy's clinginess and constant presence, in fact it was comforting to always have someone his own age to talk to and discuss with. Although he loved his mother greatly, some things were just weird to talk to her about.
They grew closer as time passed, and Harry found himself sharing things he hadn't shared with anyone. Hopes and fears, how he'd felt those nights when he'd lain in his cupboard, thinking that death might be a better existence than the constant torture he received at the hands of his relatives. Speaking to Regulus was nice, he seemed to understand.
ΔΟΙ
"Your muggles are disgusting." Regulus said with a sneer one evening as Harry was on his way to his bedroom in Privet Drive. Technically he didn't really use it as a bedroom anymore, why would he when he had a whole house all to himself, but he needed to keep up appearances.
"They aren't my muggles, but yes. They very much are disgusting." Harry murmured with a wrinkled nose as he watched the two males of the Dursley family stuff their faces with no sense of manners or pacing themselves. There was grease and gravy everywhere. Petunia was her usual self, picking at her food like a bird while topping up her Diddykins and husband's plates with food.
The happy family didn't pay any attention to him as he quietly slinked up the stairs and into his room. He let out a long sigh of relief once the door closed and the wards powered up.
"I don't understand why you haven't dealt with the male yet. You should get rid of him!" Regulus indignantly stated.
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. This was far from the first time they'd had the exact same conversation, in fact Regulus wasn't the only one of the spirits with homicidal tendencies. His mother was firmly on Regulus' side in this, she wanted Vernon to suffer.
"You know why. If Vernon were to disappear, Dumbledore would find out and investigate. I can't afford to have his scrutiny on me right now. You know this!" Harry hissed back. He was so tired of defending his thoughts on the subject.
"You don't have to kill him! You could just punish him to make him behave. You've done it before, what's so different about now?" Regulus was nearly shouting. "You've told me what he did to you… what he would have kept doing if it wasn't for you being an adult this time around…" Regulus crossed his arms defensively across his chest, his face drawn taut in a frown. He looked anywhere but at Harry. "I worry about you, you pillock… this isn't healthy. What if he catches you unaware?"
Harry felt baffled. He knew Regulus liked spending time with him, but he hadn't thought he actually cared or was worried about him, no matter how friendly they'd become. In general, he wasn't used to people worrying about his well-being, rather the opposite. He swallowed away the lump in his throat. "I… well… it's not like he can actually kill me right?" Harry tried going for humour and a half-hearted smile.
Regulus didn't buy it. Oh no, his eyes flashed dangerously and he glared at the small boy. "Just because you can't die doesn't mean you should expose yourself to abuse." He snarled and began pacing furiously. "What about your pain? Both mentally and physically. Not dying is not equal to no one being able to hurt you!" He sucked in a sharp breath and stopped, glaring at the wall.
"You need to make a decision. You keep creating excuse upon excuse and they are not good enough. I won't have it anymore." He shifted his stormy grey eyes so that they looked right into Harry's wide green ones. "Stand up for yourself! I thought you said you wanted to destroy Dumbledore, what is keeping you back from destroying someone that caused you even more physical harm?!" Regulus shouted.
"Because I'm afraid I'll become like him!" Harry shouted back at his friend. He sat down in the bed and buried his face in his tiny hands.
"Like who?" Asked Regulus quietly. "The muggle?"
Harry was silent, swallowing away the lump in his throat and not daring to look at Regulus. "Like Tom." He nearly whispered. "Like Voldemort… I'm afraid that if I enjoy it, because I know I will, then I'll be one step closer to becoming him. We've always been similar him and I, so incredibly similar. What's going to stop me from going further? To just take whatever I want with no concern for the consequences or who I'm hurting? What if I end up going mad in the same way he did? I'm already immortal, who's going to stop me?"
Regulus sat down on the bed next to Harry and dearly wished that he could actually give him a hug, but sadly that wasn't possible so he'd have to settle on his presence and comforting words. "You are wrong." He said softly. "You are nothing like Voldemort. Take it from someone who served under him. The fact that you even worry about turning into him is proof enough. You are at your core a decent person Harry. You don't crave power so that you may lord it over others, you want it so you can protect yourself and be free, maybe even help those who are less fortunate. Wanting to take revenge on someone who's hurt you, and enjoying it, is human." Regulus licked his hips and hesitantly continued.
"I think... I think I need to tell you a story."
Regulus took a deep breath. "Once, there were two brothers who loved each other greatly. They were thick as thieves and did everything together. Then one day something changed. The oldest brother had hidden himself in his room and cried and cried. The youngest, worried about what had happened to his usually brave and cheerful brother, crept into the room and asked. The oldest tried to put on a brave front and said that it was nothing, but the youngest could tell he was lying. He knew something was wrong but not what. That night, the youngest brother curled up in bed with the oldest and held him until they both fell asleep."
Harry listened quietly to Regulus' tale.
"Things went almost back to normal after that. For a month or two, the oldest brother was quieter than usual and didn't want to play with the younger brother, but then things evened out. Every now and then the oldest brother would have moments where he hid away and cried. The youngest brother still didn't know why, but he tried his best to be there for him. By the time the oldest had turned ten, the crying had stopped. Instead of being withdrawn he seemed resigned yet combative, always fighting with their horrid mother. Their father, he preferred to stay away from."
"When the oldest turned eleven, there was the much awaited Hogwarts letter. He was so excited for what the magical school would bring. He couldn't wait to get away from his parents. But despite the excitement, there was also some worry for the younger brother. He would spend a year alone with their parents while the oldest was away at school. The youngest brother was of course sad, he wouldn't get to see his older brother for a long time after all, but he didn't understand why the older brother didn't want to leave him with their parents. They had never done anything to hurt him besides a few cruel words here and there."
Regulus sat ramrod straight on the bed, his eyes far away. He took a deep breath.
"A few weeks after the older brother went away to Hogwarts, something happened with the younger brother. The father entered his room one night, reeking of alcohol. The younger brother was confused, he didn't understand what his father wanted with him so late, he had never been in his bedroom before."
Harry closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. He had an idea where this might lead and it made his stomach churn.
"The father told the younger brother he was a good boy." Regulus swallowed hard. "He said he was pretty. A tease. The father said that if he told anyone what happened he would kill the older brother. The younger, frightened and confused begged his father to stop, but he wouldn't. Now the younger brother understood what had made the older brother cry all those years ago. The younger brother was too scared to confide in anyone about what had happened, what kept happening, so he bottled it up, and like with the older brother, he was relieved when the time to go to Hogwarts finally came. It was there the older brother had gotten a taste of freedom that he did not want to let go of. That sense of freedom caused frictions within the family which eventually caused the older brother to run away to a friends house, leaving the younger brother with all of his responsibilities. The younger brother was angry with the older, but he kept his feelings hidden behind a mask of indifference. He strove to appease his family and be the heir they had always wished the eldest would be." Regulus sighed.
"In addition to those responsibilities, the mother was pushing the younger son towards a new political movement that was on the uprise, led by someone she'd been at Hogwarts with. The younger son thought that some of their beliefs were sound, and so, to appease his mother he joined their movement when he was barely out of Hogwarts. However it quickly turned out to be something vastly different than what the younger brother had imagined. It was nothing more than a group of sadistic men and women who wanted an outlet for their depraved desires. And at the top was the worst of them all. A power hungry man who sought immortality so he could rule forever with an iron fist. The younger brother had grown disillusioned with the movement, but it was a group you joined for life. He had no way of retreating, and so, when he found out what the leader of the movement had done to achieve his immortality, the younger brother decided to do whatever he could to make the leader mortal once again." Regulus took a short break to wet his lips.
"The younger brother knew that what he planned to do would kill him. And so, he decided to get revenge on his father for all the pain he'd caused the brothers as they grew up. It would be his final act before he went to his death." The spirit became quiet, lost in thought.
The minutes ticked by and eventually Harry quietly asked, "what happened then?"
Regulus startled slightly at the young voice. He looked at Harry intensely. "And then," he said, "then the younger brother went to his father's study and killed him."
Harry's eyes were wide with shock. "You- but…" he swallowed. He could see now why Regulus had decided to share the story. It was all about pain and revenge. "Did you regret it afterwards?"
"No. He deserved every torturous minute of his demise." Regulus sneered. "I would happily do it again if I had the chance."
"He hurt you. You and Sirius. He-" he wanted to state the obvious, that their father had raped two little boys, but it was just too cruel, too awful. How was their pain in any way similar to his own? Harry had been beaten black and blue but never had he been defiled in that way. It sounded worse to him, way worse.
"Yes he did. Just as your uncle hurt you. Hopefully not in the same way, but still vicious and unacceptable. People like that don't change. They derive pleasure out of hurting those who are smaller and weaker than themselves. If you hadn't been available he would most likely have found someone else. You taking revenge on him would be natural. I'm not saying you have to kill him, it might not be the right solution for you, but something has to be done." Regulus managed to be soft and yet firm at the same time.
Harry took a deep breath. "Okay." He whispered. The thought of Vernon beating someone else because he wasn't an available target anymore was a big factor in his decision. But also, the fact that Regulus was still kind and good despite having murdered his own father in cold blood, had settled some of his fears. Maybe him dealing with Vernon wouldn't cause him to spiral into the same pattern as Voldemort had.
