Warnings: A small time skip (around two and a half weeks). Grammar errors. And a lot of dialogue.

And thanks to those of you who took the time to review.

Chapter Twenty

His knees were burning, which contradicted the laws of nature. The floor he was kneeling upon was ice-cold, and yet, a burning hot ache shot up his thighs bringing him little comfort. Though, when kneeling before the Dark Lord, comfort came as the last resort.

Augustus Rookwood kept his neck bowed forward, a kink already throbbing between his shoulder blades. Around him, the Death Eaters filled out of the room. A few of them left with little pride intact—as the Dark Lord cut them down with both his words and his temper. The man was growing increasingly agitated as of late. Nothing pleased the man anymore. What little mercy the man possessed before was now lost to the stone-cold Dark Lord.

Rookwood would be a fool to deny that he was frightened to be in private attendance with his Master. Through his mask, his breath came out in faint, but visible clouds. The clouds came in quick increments, in sync to his racing pulse.

His goal for tonight was to avoid a Cruciatus Curse. Exactly what most of the Inner-Circle members had failed to accomplish.

"You have something to report, Rookwood?"

The Dark Lord phrased it as if Augustus was the one to stay behind on his own accord. That was far from the truth. The Dark Lord had requested his presence and sprang this question out of nowhere. If Rookwood was any less intelligent, he would be at a loss of what to inform his Master. However, he had his suspicions that he knew what the man wanted.

"Yes, Master," Rookwood lowered his torso closer to the ground, propping his body up by a solid palm to the cold cement floor. "I have been aware of private meetings between a number of Unspeakables. There is something brewing within the Department and I am consistently left out of such plans, as are most of the other employees."

"Indeed?"

Rookwood bowed further in on himself, but not before seeing something frighteningly sinister dance beneath the crimson eyes of his Master. "My Lord, I hate to draw conclusions, but Izar Black has been among the selected few who have been meeting in seclusion. I believe he is constructing something that could successfully bring down our army." Rookwood looked up at the Dark Lord. "Has he consulted you on the invention?"

Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to inquire, for the Dark Lord's eyes flashed cruelly. Rookwood bowed his head, hoping to make himself small enough to be overlooked by the Dark Wizard.

"Keep an eye on him," the Dark Lord ordered in a raspy voice. "Is there anything else you wish to add, Rookwood?"

Rookwood closed his eyes briefly. He was rather fond of the little Black but was even fonder of the Dark Side succeeding in this war. "I have nothing more to report, My Lord. Only what the other spies have reported already. He has been meeting with Lily Potter at her home quite a few times during the week. I suspect he is siding with the Light."

The Dark Lord was eerily quiet for a long while. "You seem to have a solid opinion about the boy's wavering allegiance, Rookwood."

Rookwood breathed deeply, his breathing quivering with the stress of being under that gaze, his gaze. "I feel as if we are losing him, My Lord. Though, one Death Eater cannot be such a threat. We can destroy him; you can destroy him for betraying you."

A hair-raising chuckle escaped from the Dark Lord. Not a response Rookwood was expecting. "You best not burn your bridges, Rookwood. The boy just may be our saving grace," the Dark Lord admitted softly. "I once believed you were one of my saner and wiser Death Eaters. Don't let your other comrades' suspicions go to your head. While they spit and insult Mr. Black in passing, you can make a stand and offer the boy aid if he ever wishes it."

Furrowing his brows, Rookwood wondered if he was truly hearing the Dark Lord correctly. His Lord… believed Izar Black to still be loyal? Despite the boy's continued privacy and contacts with key figures of the Light?

"I will… see to a change of perception, My Lord," Rookwood agreed, bowing lowly.

He just hoped the Dark Lord was right in his judgment. Though… when was the last time Lord Voldemort was ever wrong?

{Death of Today}

Izar knew it was wrong to snoop, but he did it anyway.

His head dipped below the sink of the Potter bathroom and he peered deep within the cabinet. He had sensed a wave of magic coming from below the sink and had stripped away the glamour to reveal multiple of potion vials. If Izar didn't know any better, he would think that Severus Snape himself lived with the Potters. If James Potter wasn't so set against the man, Izar would think the greasy-haired Potions Master lived in their basement with the amount of potion vials under the sink.

Eyeing the closed door to the bathroom, Izar reached forward and withdrew the largest vial of purple concoction. Swirling it around, Izar tested the thickness and the way yellow staining mushroomed at the bottom of the vial.

It was a potion that helped improve depression. Izar stared at it for a long while, carefully setting it back down amongst the collection of mood suppressants. They all were variations of mood stabilizers, ones that helped ease depression and others that gave a bit of a high to the drinker—something that would give a depressed individual happier dispositions. There was also a potion in the back that Izar stared at. Light golden flecks danced around the clear liquid. He knew right away that it was a potion that was believed to ignite the warmer emotion of love.

He breathed heavily, leaning back on his heels. Lily must take all of them daily. And yet, even after taking these, she still struggled with showing emotions.

Numbness cooled his belly as he continued to stare at the vials. His mother was desperate to harbor her emotions again. And in doing so, she was putting herself at risk. Ingesting all these potions could not be good for the stomach lining and the mind. One day, it may render her completely unstable… insane. Or worse, it could kill her.

Bowing his head, Izar struggled to understand the emotions he was feeling. Pity, anger, loss… It would not do to feel these things for his mother. The very woman he swore he would never forgive for what she did to Regulus. But after these few weeks of working with her, Izar found it increasingly difficult to remain impassive, especially after discoveries like this.

A sudden knock at the door brought Izar back to reality. Waving his wand over the cupboard, he placed back the glamour to veil the potion vials that were stocked below. Making sure it was in place, he stood up and slowly opened the door.

He leaned against the doorframe, staring down his nose at Lily Potter. She had her eyebrows raised and she clutched a few parchments in her hand.

"Are you feeling unwell?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at him.

Izar's lips thinned. They had been meeting together almost every day for the past three weeks. His days consisted of going to the Department of Mysteries to work on Rufus'… Doomsday invention. Afterward, he went home to see if Aiden hadn't gotten into anything of importance, and then he visited Lily's home. Late at night, Izar also worked on the Horcruxes. He was getting further along than he thought possible with so much on his mind.

Nagini proved to be a constant distraction as she persistently nagged him about neglecting her. There were times when Izar had to stun her and place her back in her basket.

Once he discovered the exact properties he needed to construct the perfect Horcrux, Nagini would need to go through a series of heavy spell-work. The overwhelming Dark Arts he would place inside her may likely kill her. In the meantime, he practiced on large rats. No matter if they survived or not, Nagini would eagerly await her time and devour them whole.

The nights Izar did not spend working on the Horcruxes, he visited Regulus. The man's condition had come to a stand-still. He had yet to awaken and Snape's visits had become less and less. Izar was suspiciously certain that whatever went on in their Legilimency mind-talks wasn't going well and Regulus refused to awaken. If Regulus woke from his coma damaged, Izar would hunt Snape down and hold him accountable for his father's mental state.

Whatever was going on between the two of them was not his business. But he would make it his business if his father suffered from it.

The long nights, the concern over Regulus, and the constant use of Dark Arts was taking a toll on Izar. He hadn't known an immortal creature like himself could get dark circles beneath his eyes, but he was proved wrong a few days ago. He hadn't slept for days. And while he didn't need sleep to function, he was exhausted and found himself withdrawing in his mind at times.

Like now.

"Just tired," he murmured to reassure her. Pushing off from the doorframe, he walked with his mother to the living room. The coffee table became their desk in the evenings and James Potter was constantly seen hovering around the living room.

Sirius usually stopped over. But the past few days, Izar's uncle was oddly absent.

"Would you like to continue another night?" Lily pressed as she watched Izar sit on the leather couch.

Izar offered her a smirk. "We stole the calculations from the Department tonight. We need them returned tomorrow morning with the wrong alterations. This time, Conner Oran successfully got the amount of radiation correct. We need to divert him away from the right path."

He leaned forward near the coffee table, ignoring the carefully placed mixed nuts and scones on the table. Lily always seemed to encourage Izar to eat, no matter if he claimed he already had dinner or not.

Clasping his hands in front of his mouth, Izar thought back to their recent attempts at preventing the invention from being completed. When Izar found out that Conner Oran had been the wizard to come up with the invention, he had been furious. His determination had only heightened and he brought Lily's own determination along for the ride. Oran had come up with the cowardly invention. Why did that not surprise him?

Nonetheless, it had been three weeks since they started on the project. With over twenty Unspeakables working on it, all with different talents, it would have been done a lot sooner if it wasn't for Lily and Izar. The two had worked together to create problems that set the Unspeakable back a few days.

At first, Lily and Izar had sat together and fleshed out the invention, both knowing exactly how to construct it before the others had time to do so. By knowing the exact calculations and charms to use to complete the Doomsday invention, they were better off knowing how to prevent the other Unspeakables from figuring it out.

Regrettably, they hadn't been able to totally prevent the construction. So far, the invention was able to hold in a wide-range of wizards. Nothing could get out from inside the force field. All that was left to finish was the correct calculations of the radiation they needed to use.

Lily had stolen Oran's calculations tonight and brought them back to her home. Looking down on them, Izar breathed wearily. He had already looked over them today at the Department. He knew they were correct. The frequency and amount of photons written were enough to successfully bake the magical core. The generators would need to run for a few minutes to fully damage the magical core without any chance of reconstruction.

Izar knew this invention inside and out. But the other Unspeakables were beginning to understand it just as much. What would he have to do if Conner succeeded in completing this?

Izar would need to unveil his status of a Death Eater. He knew. Lily and he could only do so much without being discovered.

"Should we lessen the frequency?" Lily brought him back to the issue at hand. "He would never know. Conner doesn't strike me as the type of man who can remember his own calculations. He's tried so many equations the past few days that he won't be suspicious of a few numbers being altered. He would consider it another trial and error."

"It's the only thing we can do."

They bent over the table, carefully altering the calculations. Nearby, James Potter was standing close to the window, staring out into the darkness. The man was quiet tonight, his shoulders thrown back and his hands near his wand. Was it possible the man sensed the Death Eater watching from across the street?

Unexpectedly, the wards gave a sharp cry and the lights flickered out. Lily straightened suddenly from her bowed position over Oran's notes and grabbed her wand. Her husband was just as quick. His Auror stance made it easy to both attack and defend Lily.

Izar remained sitting calmly, but his chest contrasted sharply. It was more than just a meager Death Eater that triggered the wards. Izar's magic-sensitivity sparked to life as it greedily reached toward the Dark Lord hovering near the edge of the wards. His creature became just as alert, knowing its other half was finally nearby. Izar sulked in his chair, hating his body's reaction. It had been so long since he had spoken to Voldemort. Other than a few heated stares at the Ministry, they had been apart for nearly four weeks.

Yuletide was approaching in a matter of days. Izar knew that was one of the reasons Voldemort chose to make an appearance at the Potter residence. To remind Izar that his time was short and that he was also watching him. This was a warning not to get too comfortable with the Potters, a reminder of who Izar was.

Closing his eyes, Izar felt the Dark Lord intentionally make the wards practically crumble before leaving. At his departure, the lights flickered back on and the wards quieted to a gentle hum.

"Should we alert Albus?" James asked Lily, his stance relaxing only a fraction.

"He will not attack tonight," Izar answered for her, emotionally and mentally drained. "He was only playing with you." With me.

He opened his eyes to see James and Lily staring at him. Both of them looked uneasy, which Izar could understand. They were exceptionally distrustful of him at the moment. And as to prove Izar's speculation, James Potter lunged. If Izar didn't have advanced reflexes, he would have had trouble seeing James' sudden attack.

"James! No!" Lily shouted, standing from the couch and reaching for her husband.

To his credit, Izar remained motionless and almost bored as James Potter pressed his wand into his throat. His green and charcoal eyes studied Potter, daring the man to do anything further. If the Auror made another move, Izar would have to take this situation into his own hands.

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't just kill you now rather than on the battlefield."

"Give you a reason?" Izar mulled it over lazily. "I'm afraid I don't feel inclined nor worried enough to give you a reason." The Black heir's lip twitched before he gave in and smiled darkly at Potter. His gaze dropped to the wand at his throat then to the man holding it in place firmly. "In fact, why don't you go ahead and kill me? It would give me a reason to attack you."

James' face grew red with anger and his knuckles turned white as he pressed the wand further into Izar's throat. Next to him, Lily hovered, her eyes jumping to Izar and to her husband in slight concern. Concern. She was showing emotions. Was that from the multiple of potions she was taking beneath the sink? Or was that true concern that laced beneath those empty eyes?

"Why?" Potter suddenly demanded as his eyebrows furrowed. "Why did you join the Dark? How could someone so young even know what they want in life? Do you really understand the consequences of joining a madman? You are an intelligent young man. You don't strike me as the type of wizard who would be fooled by a Dark Lord's petty lies and show of power."

Izar raised his eyebrows at the man's sudden inquiry. He had been unprepared for the question and it took him off-guard. "What makes you think that I would allow myself to be fooled? I know exactly what I want in life. Not all of us went through childhood oblivious. Some of us had to deal with things far more important than harassing their Slytherin classmates." He poked at Potter, remembering Regulus telling him how much James made Severus' life hell.

James' eyes widened a fraction. "You are sixteen. How can you even believe that pledging your life to a dreadful cause is a good idea?" The Auror loosened his hold on the wand and dropped it near his side. "Did the Dark Lord offer you a sense of comfort after you found out your mother placed you in the orphanage?"

"Don't," Izar hissed, eyes flashing. "Don't assume as if you know anything about what transpired between Lily and I."

James shook his head. "I don't. But I know enough. I know that she betrayed your father. She, or, rather Dumbledore, thought that she could bring down the Dark Lord through Regulus Black. I understand that she went about it the wrong way. It was… undeniably dishonorable of her." Here, James glanced at a quiet and solemn Lily before turning back to Izar. "And I know that she brought you to an orphanage. Because you hate Muggles so much, I can only assume that the orphanage was where your hate for them took root."

"It would be prudent if you shut your mouth," Izar whispered coolly.

"Is it because you don't want to come to terms with it?" James persisted. "Lily was young and impressionable. She made disgraceful decisions. It took me a long while to come to terms with them myself and I wasn't even the one who was wronged. But I can reassure you that she's suffered every day for what she did. She lives each moment in the past and has never forgiven herself. She never intended for you to grow up in an environment full of hatred."

Izar remained silent, leveling James Potter with a look of indifference. Mentally, he replayed Potter's words, surprised at the passion and heat behind each syllable. The man admitted that what she did was dishonorable and that stunned Izar. He would have thought Lily's husband would have stood by her and supported her through anything. And while Potter did just that, he did so with open eyes, aware of what she did was wrong.

The Black heir had forgiven Lily's Horcrux in his mind those many weeks ago. Could he, perhaps, tell her that he forgave her? While Izar hadn't thought long about Lily's sacrifice, he knew that it had left a lasting impression on him. He was… proud and appreciative for what she accomplished with the Horcrux. It destroyed her. She knew it would destroy her and she went through with it anyway. To save him.

He had, long ago, taken the blame off of Lily for leaving him in the orphanage. However, he could never forgive her for what she did to Regulus. During the Second Task, she claimed she would betray Regulus again if she was faced with a second chance. But when Izar asked the Horcrux Lily, the piece of soul claimed what she did to Regulus was unforgivable.

He knew this Lily and that Lily were two different people. This Lily was all but an empty shell of the former woman. But if there were still some emotions residing in her…

"I have forgiven Lily for leaving me at the orphanage," Izar suddenly acknowledged. Out loud. He turned to look at her, seeing a hint of astonishment dance across her face. Making sure her attention was absorbed on him; Izar reluctantly spoke the next bit. "And I will never forget what she sacrificed for me. I will forever be…thankful."

They both know he spoke of the Horcrux. He knew James Potter was still unaware about what Lily constructed and Izar respected that secret and remained blunt. He watched as Lily placed a hand to her throat, her lips pressed tightly together.

Izar's face closed up the next moment and he offered her an icy stare. "But we're even now. And I will never forgive you for what you did to my father." He suddenly turned away from her and back to James. "As much as Lily's actions have affected my life, I did not join the Dark because of her." Izar flashed the man a cocky grin. "But nice try at trying to pick apart my mind. For being a Gryffindor, it was actually a decent attempt."

"You think Muggles are better off dead," James replied in a flat tone. "I would have thought you would have joined for a deeper meaning, a less superficial and unintelligent reason."

"If you wish to get so involved with the political correctness, Mr. Potter, I do not wish Muggles dead," Izar scoffed in amusement. He would rather them all be dead, but he was realistic. "I just want them far away from the Wizarding World as possible. They don't belong anywhere near us." He paused. "I also feel that there should be equality in the Wizarding World. Why should Dark Arts be frowned upon? They are very useful in defense and some wizards' cores are more in tuned with Dark Magic rather than Light. Our society is close-minded."

He didn't know why he was humoring James Potter. Perhaps it was because he was curious about the man or because he wanted to defend himself. Though, why should Potter's opinion of him be so valued? It shouldn't matter that Potter thought Izar joined the Dark just to kill off Muggles.

And then James Potter uttered something Izar found hard to believe. "I can understand where you're coming from. And I agree."

Lily sat down abruptly, her face closed of any expression as she watched the two of them converse. Luckily, she did not interfere. Izar was so very interested in James Potter at this moment. He didn't want anyone to get in the way.

Izar leaned forward suddenly, narrowing his eyes at the Auror. "Excuse me?"

James backed away from Izar, keeping a steady gaze as he sat down upon the coffee table. "I said I agree." Potter flashed a smug grin. "You don't think that all Light Wizards have the same views, do you? I know a few Dark curses that I become curious about and try during battle. Though, it's always frowned upon. I believe that our society needs to change their views. Not all wizards who practice the Dark Arts should be looked down upon with distaste." James and Lily shared a look. "And I also agree that Muggles are getting far too involved with our world."

"James," Lily began a bit sharply. "My parents were just fine with me being a witch. We've had this discussion before."

"That may be so, but your sister is proof that not all Muggles accept magic, Lily." James offered her a heated gaze before giving his full attention to Izar. "There needs to be restrictions between Muggles and Wizards." Potter raised a high eyebrow as he leaned closer to Izar. "It seems to me that we have similar beliefs, Izar. And yet, we're on the opposite side of the battlefield. But that's only because I know you're going about this change in the wrong way."

"Oh?" Izar murmured in amusement. Just like most, Potter believed Voldemort was trying to change Britain by force. Little did the man know that Undersecretary Riddle was the one who would be making the change. Riddle would manipulate the public into believing a change was needed. "Enlighten me, then."

"Simple," James began, waving a hand as if brushing aside Izar's mocking tone. "You're drawing too much attention from the Muggles. You say you want them as far away from the Wizarding World as possible? Then why are you bringing attention to our world by attacking them? What the Death Eaters are doing now is destruction. Do you honestly believe the public will change their views of Dark Wizards with all these attacks? Their hate and suspicion of the Dark Arts have only increased since you've revealed yourselves to Britain.

"And," the man pressed. "I know a few Death Eaters. And I know that they are bloodthirsty. What will become of them if you succeed in changing the Wizarding World? Will you have them continue their torture and killing for fun? Do you think the public will stand for that?"

Izar tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, gazing blankly at Potter. The man's words rang true. For all the rumors Izar heard about James Potter being rather dim, the man was actually a good theorist.

Though, Izar had already thought about those concerns. For one thing, he wasn't worried about Muggles being aware of the Wizarding World through Voldemort's attacks. The Dark Lord was smart about attacking in both Muggle and Wizarding communities. Not only did Ministry officials obliviate Muggles who saw too much, but Muggles did their own damage control. They created lies and stories for things they could not explain. The Muggle public would be otherwise oblivious to what was happening.

However, Izar found himself mulling over what Potter pointed out about the Death Eaters' obsession over killing and torturing. What would happen when the war was over? That they were forced to leave Muggles alone and live among the Light Wizards in harmony?

Bellatrix, Voldemort… even Izar craved the battle scene far too much for what was healthy. Life would be rather dull if there wasn't a battle to look forward to.

It was something to ask Voldemort about when Izar got the chance.

But other than that, James Potter's fears were for naught. The man was ignorant about Tom Riddle's true political plans to change the public's views. For a moment, Izar wondered if James would approve of Tom Riddle's plans. Probably not. The man was too much against what the Death Eaters did on their raids. While Potter liked to believe he had the same views as Izar… they didn't.

Their senses of the Dark Arts were far different. Their morals were night and day.

"All very good points," Izar conceded indolently, turning his attention back on the topic at hand. "But as I said earlier, the Light is close-minded. They will never agree to a peaceful change. That is why we are doing it this way. By force."

James shook his head. "You may believe that, Izar, but your Master is unstable. If he gets hold of this world, he will destroy it."

Izar suddenly chuckled lowly, his laugh sounding sinister even to his own ears. "Your Minister is already doing a good job of destroying this world from the inside out." Izar caressed the leather couch, keeping his sights leveled on a bemused Potter. "Besides," he drawled. "Don't be too sure you have any idea what the Dark Lord has planned."

Potter pushed up his lenses and smiled sadly. "The same goes for you," he said. "As much as it intrigues me to know what the Dark Lord has planned, I know that the man does not trust or look highly upon anyone but himself. You are just a lowly Death Eater to him. Don't assume otherwise, Izar. Please. For your own sanity."

The Black heir frowned deeply at the raw concern coming from Potter. This had gone on long enough. "I think I've had enough conversation for one night."

Admittedly, Izar was still intrigued by James Potter, but he believed tonight's conversation allowed him to better understand the man. James Potter was just a wizard who wanted to be on friendly terms with everyone, to be diplomatic. For example, Potter claimed he was interested in the Dark Arts. But Izar knew James Potter had barely brushed the top layer of the Dark. The man's aura was sparkling clean. Darkness did not taint him like it did Lily's aura. Or even Rufus'.

While Potter must have matured greatly since Hogwarts, the man, in all ways, was still the same. At Hogwarts, James competed for attention, he needed to be popular. And by doing so, he did stupid things.

And it hadn't changed.

Potter still wanted to be liked by many. Only, instead of pranks and targeting those lower than him, James tried to have an open opinion about everything to gain more allies. The man would be a very decent politician if he wasn't so involved with the Aurors.

Still, James Potter was realistic and he wasn't stupid. For that, Izar had a grudging respect for. The man would be a very decent opponent on the battlefield and off.

"Can you handle the rest of the calculations?" He grabbed his cloak from the chair, barely flashing Lily a look before turning for the door. "Just lower the frequency and make sure you get the calculations back to the Department before the others arrive tomorrow morning."

"I will," Lily's voice was soft as it followed Izar out the door and into the dark night.

Once Izar shut the door, he gave a light sigh and leaned against the door. He closed his eyes against the cool night, trying to calm his anxiety.

A lot was riding on sabotaging this invention. The heavy weight on his shoulders was only small evidence to what he was feeling. And the Horcruxes… he was so close. And yet, there was something that always stood in Izar's way when he was close to completing it. The various Dark Curses did not enjoy being so close together. They did not like to be confined in a small space with other properties. They wanted to overrule one another. If they could just bloody…

Izar forced his eyes open and pushed himself off the Potter's house. Sitting here and feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to accomplish anything.

{Death of Today}

Rufus' invention, or rather, Oran's invention, was a simple structure. There were four identical posts that stood around eight feet in height. Each of the posts had a generator embedded inside. It was easy for anyone to pick up the post and carry it, which had been Oran's idea. When the Death Eaters arrived on a raid, the Unspeakables would move the posts to four corners. Once it was activated, it would become a force-field—trapping anyone within its perimeters inside.

There was also a control panel that rivaled the appearance of a Muggle computer. It controlled the amount of radiation issued from the generators for however long.

In all ways, it was built incredibly well.

Izar just hated it.

He sat against the far wall of the Department, watching Oran type in the calculations into the control panel. Inside the invention, a few Pixies were flying around. The idea was that Pixies had a magical core inside them that mimicked a Wizard's core. For good measure, a Thestral was also occupied inside the perimeter. The Thestral's magical core was as large as a wizard's. Trial and error would be more accurate with a Thestral than Pixies.

Izar had suggested they just use Conner Oran for the guinea pig. However, that hadn't gone over very well…

His eyes swept the length of the isolated room before landing on Lily. The redhead stood amongst most of the Unspeakables, her arms crossed and appearing nonchalant.

When the generators made a loud hum, Izar knew the radiation had begun. The Pixies began screaming and the Thestral flapped its heavy wings in nervousness. Izar pushed off from the wall, taking a step closer and critically eyeing the invention. The Pixies began to fall from their flight, their magical core shriveling. However, the Thestral remained intact and strong, seemingly unaffected by the radiation.

Izar eyed the disappointed Unspeakables before slithering back in the shadows, a small, almost invisible smirk creasing his mouth. He drank in Oran's surprised and crestfallen expression. The man then frowned deeply, his eyebrows furrowing before he locked eyes with Izar.

A stubborn sneer crossed Oran's face as he pushed away from the control panel and stalked toward Izar. The Unspeakables quieted, their attention on the two men who were always at each other's throats.

"What the hell are you useful for?" Oran whispered darkly. Behind him, the generators ceased and the Pixies began to slowly recover. Their magical cores were reestablishing themselves. The radiation had been too low; exactly what Lily and Izar had planned.

"I beg your pardon?" Izar felt inclined to respond.

Conner clenched his teeth together and hissed sharply. "You looked over those calculations after I approved them. You said that the frequency of the radiation would be enough for the standard wizard core to shrivel permanently." The young man threw back his arm, motioning toward the unaffected Thestral. "Now it was too less?"

Izar remained unpretentious by Oran's temper tantrum. "I don't see why you're so angry with me," Izar murmured. "You were the one to come up with those calculations." He pointed it out patiently, keeping his voice low enough for the surrounding Unspeakables to strain to hear.

Brown eyes narrowed fiercely. "You and I both know you're better at the calculated side of the inventions. You looked over my work yesterday and agreed it was the right amount of radiation and the subatomic particles accompanying it." Oran threw down his arms, shaking his head. "I don't understand why you're doing this. I don't understand why the Minister wanted you here with us. We would have been finished by now."

The Black heir pushed off from the wall, taking an advancing step closer to the Unspeakable. "Scrimgeour said you requested my presence for this invention."

Oran's eyes creased in amusement. "He was just brown-nosing you, Black. I wanted no part of your participation. This was my invention. I wanted you far from it. At first it was the threat of competition, but it's clear that I should have never been worried about that."

Izar stared into the man's eyes, his unease rising. The more time he spent around this invention, the more Izar was suspicious of Rufus' motives. Scrimgeour couldn't possibly think Izar would assist in this invention, did he? In fact, wouldn't Rufus believe that Izar would try to sabotage it?

He didn't get time to respond to Oran or analyze Scrimgeour's motives, for a lavender paper airplane flew and hit Izar on the shoulder. Turning away from Oran, Izar snatched the paper and opened it.

Your father has awoken and is requesting your presence.

Sirius.

Izar folded the parchment quickly, glaring at Oran. "I must take my leave." Without waiting for Oran to spit out any retort, Izar made his way toward the exit. "Might I suggest starting over with the calculations and starting fresh? It may take longer, but at least you have a clean slate."

He caught Lily's eyes and she gave a shadow of a smile before turning her back on him and speaking to another Unspeakable.

Izar left the Department of Mysteries heavier than usual. His plan with Lily had worked. For now. And yet, something was not right. This situation with Oran and Scrimgeour nagged at him cruelly, warning him that not everything was as it seemed. The question was… who was putting up a front? Scrimgeour? Or was it Conner Oran?

Or worse, both?

His lips thinned as he took long strides through the Ministry. Izar couldn't do anything right now. After he was reassured with Regulus' condition, he could sit down and flesh out this issue at hand. Drastic measures may need to be taken and Izar knew the Dark Lord would not approve of the path. However, it would save the Death Eaters' arses. And quite frankly, Izar found living a double life tiring.

His thoughts were in such turmoil, he did not notice the dark eyes of Undersecretary Riddle watch him stride toward the exit of the Ministry.

Freedom from the confining Ministry came closer and Izar grew even more agitated. But he didn't get very far. Sirius Black stood ahead amongst a group of Aurors. The man had his body turned sideways so he could easily watch people leave and enter the Ministry. When his dark grey eyes landed on Izar, they darkened further.

Izar paid the man no heed as he walked past, but a hand around his wrist tugged him back toward his uncle. The young wizard hissed at being tugged so roughly. Was it too much to ask to be able to accomplish something without any problems? He was beginning to believe nothing could ever go smoothly for him.

"Izar," Sirius breathed softly. He backed Izar further away from the group of Aurors to give them some privacy. "Why didn't you tell me?"

The Black heir frowned, impatient. Next to Sirius, James Potter came to a stop, his hazel eyes drinking in Izar's appearance. Bloody hell. Izar didn't know how much he could handle before he snapped completely. He felt as if it would be soon if things kept up the way they were going.

"I don't have time for guessing games, Sirius," Izar snapped a bit coldly. "I need to see Regulus. Though, I'm happy you were able to see him before I was." He made a move to depart, but Sirius held him steady.

"He's paralyzed," Sirius rasped out. "He's paralyzed for Merlin's sake and you didn't tell me? I thought he was just in a coma. Imagine my surprise when I see him sitting in a wheelchair. Permanently." Sirius thrust his face closer to Izar's, his hands steel bands across his nephew's shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me? My younger brother is crippled." The man shook Izar roughly, his expression contorted painfully.

Izar looked down, trying to steady his rising temper. "Why didn't I tell you?" he whispered bitterly. "Because you've obviously have chosen your side," Izar spoke bitingly, throwing a look at a hovering James Potter. "This summer we got along wonderfully. You and Regulus were starting to mend your relationship as brothers. And then afterward, you never contacted Regulus or I again."

Izar stepped closer, nearly brushing noses with his uncle. The man's charcoal eyes had widened a fraction, surprised that Izar could turn around the conversation so skillfully. But Izar did not see this as means to explain his silence over Regulus' condition. He was doing this as his first step at making Sirius question his loyalties with the Light. Let them see how far Sirius' loyalty to his family really stretched.

"Regulus brushed off your absence as if it didn't bother him," Izar continued softly. "He even went as far as to say he accepted you were on the opposite side of the battlefield. At the time, I was foolish enough to believe him. But now I know that he covered up his pain exceptionally well. How could he possibly accept the fact that he finally had the chance to get to know his older brother only to have that same brother walk out on him again?"

"I…" Sirius shook his head, his eyebrow furrowed.

"It's nice that you were finally able to get back your best friend." Izar nodded sharply to James Potter. "After all, he was your true brother throughout your childhood, wasn't he? But this summer, you told me that you would never go back to supporting Dumbledore again. You told me, if anything, you'd be neutral. You confessed that you didn't want to fight me. What is this?" Izar motioned to Sirius' Auror robes. "The Ministry is supporting Dumbledore. The very same man who not only tore Regulus' life to shreds, but Lily's as well?"

Aware of the eyes on them, Izar realized he had to cut this short. He needed to plant the seed of doubt quickly and leave. He had no time to see if it took growth. And he couldn't promise that James Potter wouldn't be here to pick up the pieces of Sirius and piece him back together. But Izar would try his best to crack Sirius' petty wall he tried to construct after this summer.

Izar leaned forward, placing his hand on Sirius' cheek and intentionally pressing his Black Heir ring against his uncle's skin. "As far as I'm concerned, you are no longer a part of the Black family. How could you possibly care about Regulus if you're on the opposite side of the war? When you have your own family back in your life?"

He only stayed long enough to see the color drain completely from Sirius' face.

"Izar!"

The Black heir did not turn at Sirius' call as he left the Ministry. Family would always be important to Izar. He would always try his damnest to protect them. But if Sirius remained with the Aurors after Izar's manipulative guilt charade, then he would have to reexamine Sirius' role in this war.

Granted, he could never intentionally kill his uncle.

Izar once promised Regulus that he would somehow serve the Dark completely but still find a way to protect Sirius.

He hated himself for still feeling that way with an enemy.

{Death of Today}

"You look… preppy," Izar drawled as he walked in on Regulus reading a book. The man was sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed, his scarred face looking particularly marred in the evening sky. And yet, the man appeared lighter, younger, and more handsome.

Regulus quickly put the book down and stared at Izar in adoration. "Izar," the man breathed warmly. "Come closer, my son."

Izar didn't hesitate as he approached the wheelchair and bent down to embrace his father. Regulus' warm hands cupped his face, holding him in place and kissing his forehead. His father smelt better than he had these past few weeks in his coma. With only Freshening Charms to bathe him, Regulus hadn't smelt exactly as good as he did now. His father smelt like his usual clean self with a hint of masculinity and muskiness.

"How are you feeling? You certainly appear as if you aren't permanently paralyzed." Izar spoke honestly, not tiptoeing around Regulus' condition.

His father offered Izar a thin smile. "I feel better than I have in years, Izar. Severus has helped me come to terms with a few things. I'm sure he told you about our Legilimency bond."

A bond. That was what Regulus referred to it as. Izar smirked. "Is that so? A bond between you and Severus?" Sitting on the bed across from his father, Izar idly picked at the invisible soot on his robes. "It's no wonder you are feeling so high-spirited, then."

Izar glanced up at his father, pausing when he saw the smug smile upon Regulus' face. It was almost unbelievable how calmly Regulus was taking his condition. Granted, it must have helped to have the level-headed Severus Snape inside his father's mind during his coma, but his father appeared so different.

Regulus hadn't lost his grand-like aura. In fact, the air around his father had only increased since the accident. The man was sitting proudly and regally in his chair with his shoulders thrown back and neck extended. He looked every bit of a pure-blood wizard now than he ever had before. His wavy black hair was neatly arranged, cut shorter and groomed flawlessly. The goatee Regulus cut short a few days after remerging from his fifteen year seclusion was now absent, bringing attention to his aristocratic features.

The charcoal eyes staring back at him were clearer—sharper.

"I have many things to thank Severus for," Regulus agreed. "I have been living in the past for my whole adult life. It's good to finally wake up to the present." The man leaned forward, placing a hand on Izar's knee. The Black ring on Regulus' finger seemed to be worn like a crown. "And it's good to finally see you after for so long. A lot must have happened."

"It has," Izar acknowledged. "But here is probably not the best place to discuss such things."

He stared back at his father's searching look. Ever since Izar discovered the Black tapestry, he had debated if he should destroy it before Regulus came home or leave it as is. Would Regulus remember seeing Izar's skull and year of mortality? Or would he forget all about it among this whole ordeal?

It had been a difficult choice, but Izar had mended the Black tapestry and put an incredibly strong glamour on his own spot on the tree. He was now 'alive' and well. It would be curious to see if Regulus mentioned it or if he forgot about the whole thing during his coma. Staring into his father's eyes, Izar wondered just how much Regulus knew but was inclined to keep quiet about.

His father reached up and cradled his cheek, brushing his thumb against Izar's skin.

"So can I assume you and Severus are a couple now?" Izar directed the conversation back around.

Regulus scoffed. "Not yet," the man denied, removing his hand from Izar's face almost reluctantly. "But we have made strides that would've likely taken us years to complete. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't feel this acceptable about my position."

"And do you?" Izar murmured, curious. "What do you truly feel about your condition?"

Regulus looked down at his legs, pressing his palms into his thighs in thought. "I can't say that I'm happy about it. I know someday I will walk again." Regulus glanced up at Izar. "Dark Magic was what made me this way. I embrace the Dark, worship it. It cannot keep me in this condition forever if I take the correct steps."

It was a silly thing to say, Izar believed. He wasn't very heavy with worshiping the Dark or serving the Dark. Some Dark Wizards went through rituals to worship the Dark and even some Light Wizards worshipped their own branch of magic. They believed in superstitions and fantasies that were rehearsed to them during their childhood. It was mostly pure-bloods who went through with the rituals. It was also one thing Regulus did not push on Izar.

Izar was more of a scientific believer. While he had the utmost respect for magic and even understood the different temperaments of Light and Dark—he did not worship them separately through sacraments.

"Even if it does not miraculously happen that way, I can assist you," Izar reassured calmly. "I don't know the human body well, but I can learn it—"

His father suddenly shook his head. "It's incredibly touching that you want to help. And I will even accept your help. But not now, Izar." The man's eyes creased as he examined Izar. "I can see that you're going through too much right now. The strain is clear in your eyes."

Izar looked away toward the window and the setting sun. He hoped it was not so obvious to those who did not know him very well.

"I am a free man right now," Regulus began again when Izar remained stubbornly silent. His father lifted his sleeve, revealing a naked forearm that had just recently been Marked not too long ago. A wistful smile crossed Regulus' face. "He will not Mark me again. I don't know what I feel about that, but I do feel sorry that I cannot participate in any battles." Suddenly, Regulus glanced up at Izar, an insane twinkle to his eyes. "Perhaps I can convince you to bring me home a Muggle from time to time? Preferably not any children this time around."

Izar exhaled nosily, glaring at his father. "The boy is utterly irritating. The sooner you come home to look after him the faster he's out of my hair."

Regulus flashed a smile full of teeth. "You have a soft spot for Aiden," his father declared smugly. "You've grown to care for him, haven't you?"

"Hardly," Izar sneered. "If anything, he has grown more exasperating. Despite how many times I explain to him that it's impossible, he still insists that he wants his new name to be Izar Junior."

Regulus tipped back his neck and laughed. Izar sat back, not seeing any amusement in the situation. Though, just this once, he would let Regulus' mirth continue. It was good to see the dark and hunted shadows across his father's face finally disappear.

{Death of Today}

A knock at the door interrupted Rufus from his work. With a muttered invitation to enter, he was pleasantly pleased to see Conner Oran, his trusted Unspeakable, slither inside. The young man was all but a boy in Rufus' eyes, and yet, he was a few years older than Izar Black. Despite this, Oran appeared younger than Rufus' targeted interest. The Unspeakable was wringing his hands together nervously and his eyes were shifty.

Rufus did not blame the boy. He had gotten too use to Izar Black and his skill at veiling his emotions… if the boy even had emotions. A situation such as this was serious. It was to be expected that someone as young as Conner Oran was apprehensive.

"Minister?" Conner ventured hesitantly. "It's just like you said," the boy whispered. "Black changed the calculations."

Rufus leaned back in his leather office chair. "I thought as much," he sighed warily. "Have you completed the invention, nonetheless?"

At this, the boy perked up and his chest inflated with pride. "Yes, sir," he grinned. "I saved a copy of my notes before he changed it. I tested it when all the other Unspeakables went home for the night. It is ready whenever you wish to use it."

Rufus allowed a thin smile to stretch across his scarred face. "Good work, Mr. Oran." Here, the boy seemed to grow more confident. "We must act as quickly as we can. I can only assume Mr. Black will figure us out if we drag our feet. His father woke from his coma today. He will be distracted enough for the rest of the day."

Scrimgeour sat up and leaned slower to his desk. "The Death Eaters are likely to attack tonight. My contact has reassured me that the Dark Lord has been impatient and is scheduling a raid. We must make certain Black is accompanying us."

Oran nodded sharply. "I am sure he will be joining us, sir. He has no excuse to remain absent."

Rufus just grinned.

He certainly hoped not.