{Notes} I hated last chapter, but I would like to thank those of you who reviewed anyway and are still reading. *Nervous Laugh*. I tried to post this chapter quicker for all of you as means as a review-reply. ;)

A lot of thinking on Cygnus' part.

Chapter Five

The Minister chuckled, patting his overhung belly as he overlooked the tall and thin figure before him. Sometimes he wondered how men like Riddle could shed those extra pounds despite the many meals eaten at a desk. Not to mention, the political outings at those lush restaurants…

To Cornelius, it was all about presentation. While he may lack the trimness Tom possessed, Cornelius was far bolder in the fashion scene. Perhaps, when he stepped down from Minister, he could offer Tom advice about adding more color to his wardrobe. A pair of pointed purple boots would go a long way on his Undersecretary.

One can never be old enough to enjoy the finer things in life.

"A lockdown," Fudge chuckled again, shaking his head and patting down his wayward curls. "What… we haven't had a lockdown in decades, Tom." He then adjusted his spectacles on his nose, eyeing the reports before him with circumspection.

One thing he wouldn't miss after his term as Minister would be the paperwork. He shook his head again, caressing the rolls of parchment. He debated if using the navy blue ink had been a good idea for his correspondence with France in regards to tweaking their peace treaty. Apparently, there have been some stirrings of rumored Dark Lords in France. In France. It was utterly unheard of.

He reached for his glass of water and gulped down the cool liquid, using it as means to dally. This week couldn't go any slower. Britain would vote for their Minister on Friday and he would pack his boxes on Monday as soon as the results trickled in.

Unfortunately, a few boxes were not the only thing he would be worried about. There were all those balls he had to prepare for and speeches he needed to struggle through with the introduction of the new Minister.

"Really, Tom," Fudge licked his lips. "What is this world coming to? Dark Lords? Why, in my day, when there was uproar with political separatists, they were called 'terrorists'. Terrorists," he bellowed. "Dark Lords… Light Lords… there is no such thing. They're only a band of hooligans wanting to get their voice heard. The Ministry is what governs and herds the people together. Not some… cult who causes terror. All the Ministry needs to do is crack down a few more strict laws and these terrorists groups will dissolve. France just needs to follow our lead. There haven't been anymore attacks in Britain since Rufus Scrimgeour has expressed his aspiration to become the next Minister of Magic. When he takes office—"

A hand slammed down on his drying parchment, startling him and smearing the ink across the scroll. Cornelius blinked, frowning at the long-fingered hand before looking up at his Undersecretary.

"As much as your long-winded opinion on the situation in Britain intrigues me, Minister, we were speaking about the lockdown. Surely pushing a button will save you the energy needed to finish that speech you've prepared for me." Tom stared at him levelly before his lips stretched into a smile that seemed as if it were an afterthought.

Cornelius blinked at the strong, white teeth in front of him before spluttering. "A lockdown!" he shook his head heatedly. "There hasn't been a lockdown in—"

"Decades," Tom interrupted, his tone thick and dry. His eyes became hooded as he stared off into space. "Yes, you've already vocalized as such, Minister."

Cornelius looked down in dismay as Tom removed his hand from his letter. He had almost finished his correspondence to the French Ministry and now the neat calligraphy was smeared—with no hope of revival. He looked up, spying Tom wiping his hand on the upholstery of the office chair.

"I just don't see the point to the lockdown, Tom. There is no need to stop the flow of the Ministry. Do you know how many appointments would be set back—" he tapered off when he noticed a change in atmosphere.

His pale eyes jumped to his cup of water, spying the slight ripples dancing at the top. He frowned, feeling himself become light-headed and a bit uncomfortable. "A… a bit muggy in here, don't you think, Tom?"

"Perhaps," a voice drawled. "You're just loosing oxygen from your uncontrollable blabbering."

Cornelius looked up abruptly, sweat beading his hairline. "I beg your pardon?" He eyed his Undersecretary, wondering when the man seemed to get so tall. Shadows seemed to hug Tom's cloak and expression, bringing attention to those piercing eyes.

Fudge swallowed thickly, realizing the air was growing both cooler and warmer. It was a conflicting sensation, and even more so with the slight static in the air. It almost felt like… like magic. But that was impossible. Tom Riddle did not possess any impressive power, did he?

The Undersecretary wizard placed his palms on his desk once again, leaning forward. A smile that Cornelius would consider sinister played Riddle's features. "I think issuing a lockdown drill will be a superior idea, don't you?"

Cornelius opened his mouth, ready to remind Tom that it was not possible, until a sharp pain exploded behind his eyes and erased his train of thought.

For a moment, he was shocked into silence. His head buckled as the invasion tore through his mind. Jaw trembling, Cornelius issued a high-pitched scream to express the unbearable pain dancing behind his eyes and across his skull.

"No one will hear your screams, Cornelius," a voice whispered almost lovingly in his mind. "This won't take too long. I daresay you'll be home to Mrs. Fudge in no time. I'm sure she'll nurse your migraine away with her homemade Danish pastries."

He slumped over his desk, the pain was too great and he soon fell silent. It felt as if things were… shifting and rearranging inside his mind. He gurgled, blowing a raspberry with his spit. It dribbled down his lips and onto his chin. He smiled when the man above him chuckled and patted his cheek. If it was amusing, why not do it again?

This time, he blew a larger one. A jet of spit escaped his lips and spilt down the front of his robes. Cornelius snickered as a few droplets stained the letter on his desk. He would have liked to drown the letter in a loo.

"Now, now, you wouldn't want to stain your pinstriped robes, would you, Minister?" Cornelius shook his head, moaning. "We must do a lockdown drill. The Ministry and the workers will benefit considerably from this drill. Not only will it organize our direction in a real lockdown, but it will remind our employees that the Ministry has the power to control operations. You won't want to seem weak, would you? The Ministry has every right to order a lockdown drill. It's time we practice it."

Blinking, he began to see sense to what Undersecretary Riddle was getting at. It would do well to practice these things. Just in case a real situation arose.

"Yess," Cornelius slurred. "Yes, Mr. Riddle, you are… are indeed right…"

"You won't remember this mind invasion, will you? You had a diplomatic discussion in your office with me. You've been having reoccurring migraines from the stress of stepping down as Minister. It's understandable."

Moistening his dry lips, Fudge nodded. "Understandable…"

Suddenly, the pressure in his mind lessened and he blinked, frowning. He looked up, spying Tom sitting cross-legged on the chair in front of him. His Undersecretary gazed at him with heavy concern. "Are you alright, Minister?" Tom leaned forward, quickly searching his inner pocket. "Your nose! It's bleeding."

Cornelius flushed crimson as blood dripped from his nose and on his robes. "Oh, heavens," he chuckled, flustered. "I'm afraid I've been feeling under the weather, Tom. You understand the stress—don't you?" He took the offered handkerchief from Tom and dabbed his nose. "I've been having these horrible migraines. Stress migraines, mind you. I—"

"Minister?" Tom interrupted smoothly. "The lockdown?"

Cornelius blinked. Tom seemed to be a bit under the weather as well, judging from the strained smile on his face. "Of course, of course." He took his wand off his desk and gave a wave toward the portrait of his lake home.

The gold-platted frame opened, revealing the emergency button and speaker. He offered Tom a smile before pressing the lockdown key.

Oddly enough, the Undersecretary was already out the door before the alarms rang. Cornelius had wanted to discuss the France peace treaty in more detail with Tom before he went home to Mrs. Fudge. Perhaps she would have some of her homemade Danish pastries made. Surely, her delicious pastries and a tumbler of firewhiskey would do his migraine some good.

It was simply unbearable.

{Death of Today}

Somewhere in the Ministry, a cloaked figure paused to consider the blaring alarm and darkening atmosphere of the Ministry. A sly smirk crossed his pale features as he slowly continued forward.

"This is your Minister for Magic speaking," the voice blared across the Ministry just as loudly as the alarms. "Effective immediately, there will be a scheduled lockdown drill for all Departments in the Ministry. Halls and corridors will be cleared and employees will be asked to remain in their offices until the lockdown as been completed. Lifts exiting and entering the Ministry will be deactivated as will all Floo directories.

"Trained Aurors will be walking the corridors, aiding and escorting all visitors in the direction of assigned safe-zones. Anyone seen not complying with the lockdown will face possible suspension. Thank you for your compliance as we make our Ministry stronger and more secure."

Cygnus chuckled, his eyes alighting. They were shutting down the Ministry for him, for him.

For one boy. One measly boy.

They were fools, the lot of them.

You must be held in high regard, my grandson… Cygnus murmured in his mind.

Mentally, he searched for his young grandson, finding him easily in the far depths of their mind. For a moment, Cygnus hovered near Izar's presence, tempted to torture and absorb the energy the boy had gathered since their last confrontation. There was more energy around the boy, a lot lighter in flavor than before. The last taste he had from his descendant was a magic that was just as sickly and seductively dark as his own.

Perhaps the boy was trying to fight darkness with the light? It was a foolish idea and one Cygnus found amusing. Let the boy attempt his last line of defense. Cygnus would allow that much. In fact, he had grown fond of the boy and would extend their interactions as long as possible.

If he didn't know any better, he'd assume that Izar Black was a reincarnation of himself. They were incredibly similar; both prodigies, both Dark and powerful, and both determined. Nevertheless, there was one major difference between the two of them.

Izar was weak and almost pitiful with his attachments. Cygnus knew the boy considered himself cold and indifferent toward people, but Cygnus had seen differently. His descendant held high regard to his father and even his blood-traitor uncle. Both of the older Blacks were weaker than the boy—yet Izar surrounded himself with them constantly.

There were others that the boy treated fairly when he should have acted his rightful place of higher hierarchy.

Izar was powerful, and yet, the boy had yet to reach and realize his full potential.

I'll show you real power before you cease to exist, boy. I'll show you the power you failed to see at your fingertips. Cygnus mentally relayed to Izar as he slithered down the halls of the Department of Mysteries.

He felt a spark of interest coming from his grandson at his words. But otherwise, the boy remained silent and still. Cygnus snarled at him before leaving the depths of their mind.

Izar would have gone far, but his attachments took over and consumed him until he was in the background—in the shadows. When Cygnus had established his life, his wife and children were just means to carry on the Black line. His children, especially, were bastard rats, bred for his own experiments. He needed them for immortality and when they showed no signs of carrying his artificial gene and DNA, he had locked himself away for the remainder of his life. They only had one memory of him, and that was his orders to continue on the Black line.

They had meant nothing to him. And having no attachments made him strive with his inventions, with his experiments. Having no attachments was where it got him today.

Immortality.

He achieved immortality were others had failed. And he planned to do much more this time around than be a simple inventor.

Admittedly, there was one thing that stood in his way after he gathered the rest of his spirit from the Veil. It was that… half-blood. That dirtied wizard who claimed the title of a Dark Lord. The very same man who considered a sixteen-year-old boy a worthy lover.

It would be a difficult struggle against the Dark Lord, he accepted as much. But Cygnus had no doubts that he could easily step over the man. Izar's magic was powerful and his unbridled gift was what would cause the Dark Lord's fall. It was simple. Laughable, really.

More time was what he could have used. He wasn't used to changing his personality to resemble a teenaged-boy with stars in his eyes for his father. Regulus had been suspicious of him, and somehow, he had known. Had his portrait in Grimmauld Place talked?

Judging from the Ministry lockdown, Cygnus believed the Dark Lord had something to do with his lack of time.

No matter. He would reach the Veil and he would be whole once again. It would be easy, just as easy as it had been to possess the boy and take over. He had slipped into his descendant's body like butter. There had been a slight struggle from Izar, but Cygnus had overpowered naturally. The only thing he hadn't planned on was Izar's survival. Cygnus would have thought, even though he wasn't whole, that his merge with the boy would result in death.

Was it sheer determination that allowed the boy these extra hours of struggle? Or was it something else?

He paused before shaking off his suspicion. It didn't matter. After he merged with the rest of his spirit, he would leave Britain and begin his new path. His first goal was to take the Black estates away from his undeserving descendants. His second priority was to secure a bitch to pass down his line. After Izar's body aged, he would need another descendant who carried his artificial gene. Hopefully this time, his vessel would come within one or two generations.

He'd been gone for too long. And he didn't care for the changes in the wizarding world. No matter, it was just another set of priorities to take care of.

Cygnus dodged through the corridors in the shadows. It was easy enough. The lighting in the Ministry was at its lowest power in the lockdown.

He didn't need to rake Izar's memories to remember where the Veil was. When he had been young, he spent days upon days before that archway. It took him years to grasp that he couldn't implant immortality inside his already aging body, but it would be possible to plant it in his DNA—in his sperm— and pass it on to his descendants.

Immortality had to start at the fetus. His goal had been to keep himself earth-bound after he passed away and allow easy access for possession when he came in contact with his carrier. He hadn't been looking to make his descendant immortal. Izar was not immortal, yet he carried Cygnus' gene that allowed for an easy possession and magic Dark and exclusive enough to be able to come in contact with the Veil without passing away.

When Cygnus had been on his deathbed, he had been devastated that none of his children and grandchildren possessed the 'Curse'. He had been frightened of death, of being bound to the Veil for all of eternity. But his efforts had worked eventually.

A pity his vessel had to be the only worthy ally. He could have used Izar's prodigy mind, his twisted inventions.

As Cygnus entered the Death Chamber, he immediately felt the Veil without seeing it. He could feel the rest of his spirit behind the tattered curtain and inside the archway.

I'm coming…

His glee made him blind to his surroundings. If he had been paying attention, he would have seen the Dark Lord dwelling in the shadows, his eyes sharp and focused on him.

But Cygnus had only one thing on his mind.

The pleasant drop of temperature was familiar to him as it raised goose bumps on his arms and neck. The stunning atmosphere of the Death Chamber was even more astonishing through the eyes of someone so young and healthy. Cygnus slowly approached the edge of the cavity, looking down past the different levels of tiered benches and zeroing in on the archway standing proudly at the center of the pit. Its tattered Veil rippled beautifully, rivaling the appearance of the finest spun silk.

The only thing distracting from its beauty were the three figures standing guard, arguing quite loudly.

Cygnus gave a deep growl in distaste when he identified them. The two Black idiots and the Mudblood. Admittedly, it had been foolish of him to take his time arriving at the Ministry. He had been so overwhelmed with the sensation of living again that he hadn't even considered a roadblock.

Despite them standing in the way, a tight sensation of pleasure knotted his stomach.

This would be… fun.

{Death of Today}

Izar leaped off the frog and quickly closed the door to the meadow behind him. He peered around the illusion of the Department of Mysteries, knowing all too well that Cygnus was currently at the real Department of Mysteries.

He scowled, feeling as if they were running out of time, yet not having the power to speed things up. "What happens if he merges fully with the rest of his spirit? You claim I won't—"

"You won't die," she replied vehemently, passionately. "I've looked into this scenario for years, Izar." She turned her tired green eyes on him. "If I didn't believe a Horcrux would work, I would have never created one. A Horcrux has its own magic, no matter how small of amount that may be. I have the power to protect your essence and keep you within your own mind."

Izar turned away from her imploring expression and surveyed the forefront of his mind. Cygnus didn't seem to care if he was this far up in his mind, for his ancestor did nothing to throw him back. For a long moment, he studied the glossy black walls and floors.

"I'm sure Legilimency would help throw Cygnus out of my mind," he mused, turning back to Lily. Her dress had deepened to a bottomless ruby, offsetting her hair. "Going through the process of creating a Horcrux might have been futile. And a meaningless sacrifice on your behalf."

She shook her head, her hair veiling her shoulders and back. "Legilimency will not help, my son. Cygnus created this Curse to have your body open for his attack. Your genes are manipulated by him in order to carry his spirit. Mind magic will do nothing to counter this attack."

He frowned, remembering his conversation with Cygnus before the man possessed him. "But he claimed if I learned Occlumency it might have been impossible for him to merge," Izar pointed out.

"That's true. However, that was the merging process. This is the possession. Now that he's taken root inside your body, inside your mind, something as simple as Legilimency will not help. If you had learned Occlumency before hand, if you were a Master at it, it would have been possible to avoid this." She offered a tight smile. "I'm sure you've noticed your lack of ability to learn Occlumency. This is simply because Cygnus willed it when he began constructing this Curse. He wanted you to be vulnerable. A Dark Lord teaching you Occlumency was a threat to him. He had to gain possession of you sooner to avoid that chance of you mastering Occlumency."

Izar didn't know whether to feel impressed by his ancestor's creative works or smug that it wasn't his fault he was terrible at Occlumency.

Everything made sense and it seemed to slide right into place. The one thing he didn't understand is why Lily Potter pushed him in front of the Veil in the first place. If he hadn't touched the Veil to begin with, he might have never had this problem.

He watched her through hooded eyes. They had just finished cleaning Cygnus' tainted reach out of the meadow. According to Lily, she believed they could work from the inside out. He remembered staring at her blankly when she proposed the idea of banishing the traces of Cygnus in each room of his mind.

"And how are we going to accomplish that?" Izar had asked spitefully. "You think we can just clean out the rooms of my mind and simply shut the door behind us?"

She had smiled. "You have the power to do anything. It is your mind after all, Izar."

He had scoffed. She was hiding something from him. It wouldn't be that easy. They couldn't just destroy the traces of Cygnus in each room of his mind and then seal the door behind them. What was stopping Cygnus from noticing the doors to the forefront of his mind were closing? What was stopping him from opening them back up? To Izar, this cleaning process was a lot like Occlumency. And Lily had just stated that Occlumency and Legilimency wouldn't help banish Cygnus from his mind.

"This is a waste of our time," Izar spoke cruelly. He turned on her, hoping to see a sinister scheme behind those emerald eyes. There was none. He pointed at her, feeling anger twist his stomach and chest. "How will any of this protect us from Cygnus? He'll just open all the doors back up and dig himself deeper in the mind, in my mind."

The frog he had been riding on gave a dry croak of outrage at Izar's level of voice and jumped away into one of the open doors. Izar paid it no heed as he focused on Lily. She fidgeted with her hair, throwing a glance further up the corridor of the Department of Mysteries.

"I'm not particularly sure if this will work," she confessed after a moment of silence. Before he could cut her off, she continued. "But I know, without a doubt, that you will survive this. I know that you will eventually be able to fight him back with a stronger force. Having your mind shut, or these doors, will aid us in the meantime."

Izar placed his hands on he knees, trying to control his anger. He breathed deeply. "How can you possibly be sure I can survive this intact? You have no credibility, hell, you don't have any idea what you're doing."

She turned her back to him and pressed her palm to the mirrored door they had just exited. "I have the power to protect you—"

He stood up abruptly, taking a large step forward. "You've said that already. What power can you possibly harbor in my mind?"

Lily was already a small witch, but she looked even smaller as she bowed her head and hunched her shoulders. "I have the power… I have a mother's love, a mother's sacrifice."

Izar felt his throat contract and he struggled to breathe properly as he glared at her. "A mother's love?" he whispered disbelievingly before his voice rose considerably. "How can that be possible when you aren't even a mother?" He opened his arms wide, grinding his teeth as the emotion grew too strong for him to remain impassive.

She turned abruptly, her hair wrapping around her neck similar to that of a crimson cobra. "I know what I did was wrong, Izar," she breathed passionately. "I spent two days cradling you to my chest after I gave birth to you, speculating what I should do. Those two days were the happiest I have ever felt. I never felt such pure and chaste love, but at the same time, I felt an overwhelming grief for conceiving you out of spite. I know after I dropped you off at the orphanage that it had been a mistake. I know that! I know that."

He didn't want to see the tears in her eyes. Izar turned his cheek stubbornly, not at all impressed with the tears. They were meaningless to him. The words, however, were still ringing in his ears.

"I was young and I was lost," she continued desperately. "And I was consumed with even more guilt for leaving you. After I created a Horcrux, I knew I could never take you back and raise you with half a soul, with half a shred of humanity. Allow me this last chance at redemption, allow me this sacrifice. Don't underestimate my love for my child. I may not have raised you, but there will always be that uncontrollable admiration, there will always be those two days of holding you in my arms. A mother's love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible."

She was a twisted and broken woman, hardened and put together again after her fall from grace. She was once a young and brilliant witch, but she allowed Dumbledore to manipulate her mind. He made her see the Dark as the ultimate enemy and that she had to sacrifice everything to stop it from growing.

She had slipped from Dumbledore's control after she gave birth to Izar. As she took back control from Dumbledore, she most likely found herself being drowned by the grief and the torment of what she had done. She had been lost and broken until she found a new call of duty.

Protecting him.

She might have created a Horcrux out of sheer desperation to redeem herself and protect the child she could never have, but she had done it anyway. And after she split her soul, she was once again hardened and deaf to her feelings and emotions. Perhaps she grew ashamed for committing such a dark act that she went to Dumbledore and was once again under his control.

He shook his head softly, his anger turning into pity for the woman who bore him. "Why did you put me in front of the Veil, then? Last year, you allowed me to get close to it."

She lifted her hand on the mirrored-door, gazing at herself with passionate eyes. "That was not me who put you in front of the Veil. It was her. We are not the same person any longer, Izar, no matter how much I'd like it to be true. She will never be whole again. You'll have to ask her about her intentions."

Before he could continue, he felt an overwhelming sense of pleasure coming from Cygnus. Scrunching his brow, he concentrated and looked out into the real world. His stomach plummeted when he realized Cygnus had his eyes for Regulus and Sirius. Judging from his ancestor's cruel amusement, Izar speculated that it did not bode well for his father and uncle.

He turned back to Lily, his face cool and impassive. "I need to stay up here."

She took a step back, deeper into the Department of Mysteries. Her dress stained an onyx black as she surveyed Izar. "But the doors. We need to close out his reach—"

Cold charcoal-green eyes flashed. "I need to try to take over my body if he hurts them…" he trailed off, remembering her desperate words. "You understand my need to protect them, Lily. Don't you?"

She opened her mouth, ready to persuade him otherwise, before she thought better of it. "Yes, Izar, I do." She offered one of her rare smile, but like many of her smiles before, there was a trace of bittersweet in the folds. "I'm happy you found each other. You both deserve to have a bit of happiness, despite your dark past."

It was a far cry to what the real Lily Potter had once said. She wanted to tear Izar away from Regulus, claiming he wasn't stable enough to be a guardian. He reached for Lily, grasping her pale hand. A part of him felt sorry for himself for never knowing his mother, his whole mother. Briefly, he wondered what life would have been like if she had kept him, if she had raised him.

He chased that thought away. He enjoyed his life too much to wish anything different.

She nodded to him, tightening her own hand around his. "I will try to continue on sealing the rooms, Izar. Be careful."

She turned and walked away, leaving Izar standing by himself in the illusion of the Department of Mysteries. Taking control of his emotions, Izar allowed himself to sink deeply in the cold grasp of the Dark. He would be watching and waiting for his opportunity to attack.

{Death of Today}

"That's not what I was asking," Regulus hissed. "I want to know if Izar has been here yet."

Across from him, draped in the heavy cloak of an Unspeakable, Lily crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him levelly. She looked like a drowned rat in those robes, her thin stature resembling a breathing corpse. "And I said he hasn't been here, Regulus. If you had been listening, you may have heard me say as much."

Her dark emerald eyes jumped to Sirius mulling around in the background. Regulus stiffened at her sudden interest.

"James would like to see you again, Sirius," she started softly. "He needs you."

Regulus stepped in front of her gaze in order to direct her focus back on him. "You don't seem overly concerned or suspicious over my interest in Izar's whereabouts. One would think that a mother, no matter how cold, would be curious about her son's well-being." It was the first time he used that card against her. Though, Regulus doubted there was much love for Izar residing in Lily's body.

Her dark crimson braid fell off her shoulder as she straightened up. Her eyes were drawn, as were her lips as she regarding him. "That's because I already know what he's going through."

Regulus' eyes narrowed into slits as he stepped forward. His height dwarfed her, yet she didn't seem to be effected by him. "What do you mean you know what he's going through?"

She scoffed, shaking her head. "If you weren't so blind and lustful for power, you may have seen that Cygnus' Curse wasn't what it was whispered to be. Necromancy was not part of Cygnus' plans when he created that Curse. I know it may have been a disappointment to you when you found out it was merely possession." She called his bluff.

Regulus took a step back, fury lashing through his chest. "How can you be so… indifferent about this? Don't you see that Cygnus could take over Izar completely? My son may never come back."

Lily threw her hands down, her eyes lighting with a furious illumination. "And unlike you, I've actually done something about it!"

Throwing back a strand of dark hair, Regulus chuckled darkly. "Oh my dear, you wouldn't have a clue about protecting someone. What did you do? Hmm? Call Dumbledore for aid? Explain to him that the Blacks are just as—"

He was cut off by a flash of bright light. All he saw was Izar's familiar face before flying backwards. Regulus struggled for control, but knew it was in vain as he continued to descend through the air. Judging from the horrified look on Sirius' face and the dropping temperature, Regulus knew he was headed toward the Veil.

He couldn't die. Not like this.

It was rather ironic, though.

"Regulus!"