Chapter Fifty-One
It was easy to avoid thinking about Lily in the aftermath of what had happened.
Azkaban had been infiltrated that same night and, with it, came the return of Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers, who had been quickly given assignment and sent off, along with Lucius Malfoy.
It was the first indication that something, anything, was actually on the Dark Lord's mind, other than the planned revival of Regulus.
The Ministry responded feebly to the breakout; a press release and a reassertion of the forbidden nature of the Dark Arts, the Unforgivables, along with a declaration that those responsible would suffer the "full consequences of the law". It was laughable. Surely they knew who was responsible?
Though no further action was taken on either side and Dumbledore, following Severus' warning that the prison was soon to be infiltrated, deemed the release of the three Death Eaters a small sacrifice to maintain the cover of the spy – himself – and did nothing to alert the Ministry of the impending onslaught.
Both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord were carefully moving their pawns across the board, neither revealing their true intentions, even to their own followers.
But there was no time to dwell on such things. Severus knew better than to waste time brooding over things over which he had no control and drowning oneself in self-pity over the deplorable fact that he was a pawn to both wizards was just as impractical, serving no one any good.
After all, the Dark Lord had given him a more than agreeable first assignment.
And, tonight, the fruits of his efforts would be reaped; the curse on Regulus would finally be lifted, all going well.
"Ah, Bellatrix. Lucius." The Dark Lord greeted them as they stepped into the mausoleum. They dropped to their knees, giving him the customary greeting; a murmur of 'my Lord', a kiss to the hem.
Hushed conversation took place which Severus did not hear, as he prepared the area for the ritual about to take place.
Regulus' form lay atop of a nearby tomb; ghostly white, blue lips and eyelids contrasting startlingly with the white of his skin.
"Little cousin!" Bellatrix purred, as she circled his form; "Poor little Regulus."
"Severus." Impatience, the first time he had heard it in his tone since his return, was evident when the Dark Lord addressed him; "Shall we proceed."
"Yes, my Lord." Severus dipped his head, before going to retrieve the potion, Regulus' body.
Lucius assisted him - Regulus was deadweight in his arms and he didn't think the Dark Lord would appreciate him slinging his prize over his shoulder in a fireman's lift – and the two laid him on the ground, the circle of Death Eaters present circling at respectable distance, as the Dark Lord approached.
Severus poured the brew into a goblet; lifting his wand to heat it. Leaving it to bubble as he returned to Regulus' form, the goblet remaining in his hand, until he knelt and placed it on the ground, lifting Regulus' hand and, with a quick flick of his wand against the flesh, made a slice across the palm.
Severus curled it into a fist, holding Regulus' hand over the goblet; allowed the blood to flow and trickle into the potion for several moments, as those in the room watched with keen interest.
And then, enough, Severus drew back. He cast a quick healing charm, to seal the wound, and heard a derisive sound, almost a laugh, from over his shoulder; the Dark Lord's amusement at his weakness. Under normal circumstances, another Death Eater, they would simply be left to bleed.
Severus pretended not to hear, stood and turned to the Dark Lord.
The Dark Lord stared back at him and Severus felt his nerve waver; they had already discussed the process, that his Master's blood would need to be added to the brew, also, if he were to be granted the power to lift the magic. Once the blood of that upon whom the spell had been cast had been offered.
"Does the blood need to be fresh from the vein, Severus?"
Severus was thrown by the question but forced himself to maintain his calm demeanour; "It is not necessary, my Lord." Though it would be more practical, under the circumstances, considering the ritual had already begun and the Dark Lord's veins were right there and Severus doubted he had a collection of his own blood held in phials in his robes.
He voiced no such thoughts.
And was thrown when the Dark Lord held out a hand and a phial of, what appeared to be blood, was placed into his hand by Lucius.
The Dark Lord popped off the stopper with his thumb, sending it flying across the room, and turned the phial, allowing every last drop to fall into the goblet, before he released it and let it fall to the ground with a smash.
Severus did not openly roll his eyes at the over-dramatics; he just imagined doing it.
Then, to Severus' confusion, the Dark Lord held up a hand, wielded his wand as if it were a sword, and made a quick slice across his palm; clenched it into a fist and allowed his own blood to trickle into the goblet.
That threw him even more.
If the phial had not contained the Dark Lord's blood, then who's had it been?
There was no time to contemplate.
The potion was ready.
The Dark Lord held the goblet out to Pettigrew, his own personal lab rat, who took a small sip; and all waited, patiently, for the customary two minutes. Though everyone within the room knew it was pointless. As if Severus Snape would attempt to poison their Lord; such a thing was incomprehensible.
And, finally, they were ready to begin.
The Dark Lord lifted the goblet to his lips; eyes on Severus' as he slowly swallowed and Severus forced himself to maintain the gaze, even while his nerves threatened to get the better of him. And then Severus lifted his wand as the Dark Lord lowered the goblet, speaking the incantation, the spell.
The Dark Lord's eyes closed and when they opened, the redness was gone; replaced by pure black that filled the entirety of his eye cavity and Severus' heard the muffled gasps of others within the room.
Severus did not react.
Three slow blinks, and the red eyes were back. And then, a slow, sinister smirk spread across his Master's face, before he turned and took the two steps to Regulus' side; lowered himself to a crouch. A hand was held over Regulus' face.
Muttered words, almost murmurs, spoken with seeming reverence.
Severus held his breath; watched as Regulus twitched beneath the Dark Lord's hand. Eyelids fluttering.
And then, slowly, they opened.
Their eyes almost met, but Regulus seemed unseeing; eyelids finally fully open but eyeballs followed; rolling back into his head. And, as they did, his neck arched back, his body mirroring it, so that he rose up off of the cold ground.
Severus frowned.
And Regulus screamed.
"Snape."
"Should I assume you intercepted my message to Lily, then, Black?"
"My brother, right? Figured I'd come and see how he was doing."
"Did it happen to cross your, rather feeble, mind that I sent for Lily for a reason? That perhaps, after being under the effects of a blood curse for the past two months, that your brother might just be in need of a healer?"
A smash drew Snape's attention from Sirius to somewhere off to the side. He made a backwards step, glancing back at him with disdain, before he turned and walked off in the direction of the commotion, leaving the door open; an invitation, Sirius assumed, and he stepped inside, following Snape's footsteps down into a room down the hall.
Sirius was almost knocked from his feet when Regulus' suddenly swept past him, as he stepped over the threshold.
His brother didn't look at him but acknowledged him with words; swift, frantic conversation during which he barely drew breath.
"Oh. Oh look. My brother's here. My brother. Oh well, hell – isn't that just great? That's….I mean, that's just fan-fucking-tastic, right Sev?"
Regulus was pacing, head moving rapidly from side to side as he moved and carried on muttering under his breath.
"I think it was here…I think…I don't remember…where is it, Sev?"
Snape was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Regulus with unconcealed concern.
He met Sirius' eyes without moving an inch.
"How long has he been like this?"
"Since the agonised screaming ceased some hours ago."
"Shouldn't he be in St Mungo's?"
"Excellent suggestion, Black, your input is as invaluable as ever. Thank you."
"Yes. Yes, thank you, big brother!" Regulus suddenly chimed in, as if just noticing him again, even if he carried on darting about; "You couldn't have come at a better time –"
"As you see, your brother is hardly in a fit state to be expected to demonstrate any semblance of restraint; after the pain subsided and developed into this erratic display, he began raving about Death Eaters and the war, among other things. Of course, I thought it best to remove him from the company of the general public, for even if the healers at St Mungo's were able to restore his sanity –" Snape eyed Regulus, who was still muttering away to himself, dragging a hand through his hair; "that would mean little, when he would soon find himself locked up in Azkaban where said sanity would be taken from him once again by the Dementors."
"Pretty much everyone knows Reg was a Death Eater –"
"Nevertheless, that was never proven."
"Dumbledore would vouch for his defection."
"I feared even Dumbledore wouldn't be able to save him upon hearing some of the confessions your brother thought fit to express. He was…quite detailed."
Sirius was silent in light of the implications.
"Did any of them say they'd be contacting the authorities?"
Snape shot him a look; "I have dealt with it."
"What do you mean 'you've dealt with it?' What did you do?"
"I saw to it that they wouldn't be alerting the authorities."
Sirius stared at him; allowed his loathing to seep into the gaze.
Snape's eyes lifted heavenward; "I obliviated them."
The 'you idiot' went unsaid.
"Oh…oh hey. Look, Sev." Regulus was suddenly right in front of Sirius, staring him right in the eyes, the glint in his own almost demented; "My brother's here."
"Yes. So you said."
"Well. What an honour." The previously erratic manner in which Regulus was speaking suddenly gave way to a biting sarcasm; "This…hell…this calls for a drink."
Regulus swept away in the direction of the cabinet and Sirius heard Snape draw in a deep breath, before he stepped closer to Sirius, a phial clutched in his hand; "He needs to take this."
Sirius eyed it; "What is it?"
Snape didn't get a chance to answer, Regulus suddenly back in front of them both, thrusting a full glass of firewhiskey into each of their hands; "Wait. Wait, a toast." He spun on his heel, walking swiftly back to the cabinet, lifting the third glass he had left on the woodwork and turning to face them; "A toast to our honoured guest!"
Regulus lifted his glass higher, eyes boring right into Sirius', his voice equal parts ironic and biting;
"Toujous pur, big brother."
The words, the menacing glint in his little brother's eyes, sent a chill right to the bone.
Sirius couldn't look away. Caught in the headlights of his brother's hate.
And then Regulus' expression crumbled, suddenly tortured, and he swung his arm, the glass of firewhiskey released and sent flying across the room, smashing against the wall and making him and Snape flinch.
"I think you'd better go." Snape stepped in front of him, taking Sirius roughly by the arm.
Sirius snatched it back, shooting him a glare; "Don't fucking touch me, Snape! I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh. Oh sure! Now you're not going anywhere. Now you're not…now you're not…now you stay…"
"You're making him worse," Snape hissed.
Sirius pushed past Snape, shoving the glass he held into the other man's hand and walking right up to Regulus, who flinched back when he noticed him there, right in front of him, and Sirius grabbed him by the arms, holding him still; "That's right. Now I stay."
Regulus' breathing was uneven, harsh as he met his eyes.
"I get it, Reg. Okay? I know what happened. I know it was them. It wasn't your fault, alright?"
Regulus' eyes darted back and forth between his; frenzied, wild.
"Don't do this to yourself. You're not that person. Look at you now. Look at all you've done. I'm so proud –"
A harsh sound escaped Regulus' lips, cutting him off.
"Proud?" Regulus repeated, the word rasped out. And then he laughed.
Laughed long and hard and manically, without any humour in it whatsoever, and it was horrible to hear. Inhuman.
Sirius met Snape's eyes once again, and the other man only stared back at him, with a look that told Sirius he knew what exactly was coming.
Regulus stepped in close, drawing Sirius' eyes back to his, his voice harsh and low; "Do you have any idea the things that I've done?"
Sirius held his look.
"I've destroyed people, big brother. I've destroyed lives. I've taken husbands from their wives and mothers from their children."
"Reg -"
"You get a choice, you know. When you join him. You get to choose; just one choice. It's you or them. Life or death. And, hell, we were sixteen and who chooses to die? So you pick yourself. And, you know what, what does it matter – they're only mudbloods, right?"
Snape pressed a hand to his forehead, chin low and eyes shut, as Regulus went on.
"And you get to live."
Regulus shook his head, eyes glistening now, his voice a whisper; "But how can you live?"
Sirius could only stare; rendered silent by the raw pain in his brother's eyes as he looked up at him.
Regulus drew in a shaky breath, his voice steadying but still harsh when he spoke; "Don't look at me and tell me that you're proud."
Regulus made to push past him but Sirius held on tight to his arms, forcing him to look at him; "Fine. Well, how about this then?"
Regulus met his eyes.
"I still love you, little brother."
Eyes flitted back and forth between his once again, his brother's breaths coming uneven, quick.
And then the familiar grey eyes glistened, Regulus' expression crumbling once more and he hung his head. A quiet gasp escaped him. And then a sob.
Sirius stepped in closer, pulling Regulus to him, and his brother grasped at him as another sob came. Another. His body shaking as Sirius held him tight; holding him as he wept.
Sirius raised his eyes at the sound of the door clicking shut. Realised Snape had left them now, alone in the room, the little phial the other man had been holding now sitting on top of the mantle.
Sirius used his wand to summon it, catching it and drawing back, easily encouraging Regulus to take it, before he held him tight once more. Held him through his tears until, soon after, the sobbing ceased and his brother's form went still and limp in his arms with sleep.
Harsh sunlight made him flinch and squint when his eyes opened.
Regulus took in his surroundings, slowly, in a room he didn't recognise. But some of the things within it, he did. There was the picture of himself and Malachi on the wall, the one from his room at Newton's. A Slytherin banner hung down next to the mirror. A bookcase filled with titles he recognised.
The oh-so-familiar sound of paper rustling was at his side and he knew before his eyes drifted in its direction who it would be; Severus turning the page of a book, eyes focused on the pages, sitting in a chair next to him.
Regulus glanced down, realised he was in bed, and, slowly, the memories began to return to him.
He drew in a silent breath, feeling the burn of mortification, before glancing back at Severus, who remained engrossed in whatever it was he was reading; "You got suicide watch, did you?"
It came out as more of a croak than the cocky 'look-who's-back' announcement he was going for.
Nevermind.
Severus' eyes ceased to move. And then an eyebrow raised and he glanced at him.
Regulus gave him a sheepish smile.
Severus curled the palm of his hand, the book snapping shut, as he turned his attention to him; "Feeling better?"
"Mm."
The two of them looked at one another for a second.
"Please tell me it was a dream."
Severus' lips twitched; "I think 'nightmare' may be a more appropriate description." He leaned over, placing the book he had been reading on the side table.
Regulus closed his eyes and groaned, feeling his mortification increase tenfold.
"You remember everything, I presume?" Severus went on.
"You should have…hexed me or something."
"And miss out on such a heartfelt display? I wouldn't dream of it."
"Is he gone?"
"He went to collect Malachi."
"Malachi?" Regulus looked at him more sharply; "Is he…where is he?"
"The boy is fine. He is at the Learning Centre."
Regulus nodded, slowly, feeling a sharp pain shoot through his skull at the movement. He groaned a little, sinking back further into the pillows; he felt as if he had been hit by a bludger. Several bludgers.
A wave of nausea overtook him suddenly and he quickly turned to the side, away from Severus, as he vomited onto the floorboards.
Merlin, this was embarrassing.
He'd wept in his brothers arms like a child – and he didn't know if he was more embarrassed about Sirius being there or Severus, in that case – and now he was invalid to Severus' nursemaid.
Severus flicked his wand and the mess was gone.
"Describe your symptoms."
"Uh…almost dying?"
Severus smirked. And then his expression softened.
Regulus released a puff of air, a small laugh; "Missed you too, Sev."
"Is there pain?" Severus ignored him.
Regulus stifled a groan as he pushed himself up by the elbows, attempting to upright himself somewhat; "Just…a bit."
"Is there –"
"What happened?"
Severus looked at him, hesitantly. Then he glanced away; "Under the circumstances, it is probably best we wait until you are more recovered before getting into the details."
"The Dark Lord is back."
Silence.
"Yes."
"I…remember. He was there."
"Yes. He lifted the curse."
"Curse?"
"The one placed upon you. By…your pursuer."
The memories of that were fuzzier than the ones he had of the night before; of the Dark Lord above him as he screamed and writhed in agony, before Lucius and Severus had quickly come to his side, holding him down in an attempt to restrain him. He remembered being at St Mungo's; the look of terror in a young medinurse's eyes as he had told her she reminded him of someone he had watched die.
Die.
Death.
He remembered the Foundation.
The feel of something hitting him; taking root and coiling and teeming within him. Before blackness.
Before that; Andie in the office.
Regulus looked at Severus, sharply; "Andie. Did…the Foundation. What happened?"
"Regulus –"
"Just tell me."
Severus was looking at him guardedly, and Regulus thought he caught grief in the other man's eyes, which only served to increase his anxiety. Something had happened. Something bad.
Severus drew in a breath; "There was an attack. An artefact sent to you under the guise of a package; said artefact contained a curse. A blood curse. It was powerful; it has been some months since it happened. You have been under a protective charm since in order to prevent the spread. Last night, the Dark Lord lifted it."
"Okay. But what about the Foundation? I remember a bit. It happened there. But I didn't open any pack –" He froze. The memory clearing; yes, there had been a package. It had come right as he was leaving the office; Andromeda had been in there. Andie and Elena.
He drew in a slow breath, one that shuddered, and when he looked in Severus' direction he knew that he didn't have to ask; Severus knew the question and Regulus knew the answer.
But he asked anyway.
Severus shook his head, glancing away; "The curse itself was powerful enough that those within the immediate vicinity when it was unleashed did not survive. It left a mark in the building, a lingering of the magic; the curse was activated with Black blood. Your cousin…" Severus met his eyes, confirming the answer Regulus dreaded; "And targeted all others who should come into contact with it. Yourself."
"Malachi?"
"He was not close enough for it to bind. Nor was Narcissa, nor your brother."
Regulus stared at him; the reality of it, the horror, slowly building up within him. Someone had targeted his entire family, had tried to kill them all, because of him. Because of what he had done.
Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, turning away.
Willed himself not to break once more.
"How many dead?"
"Six. Your cousin. Elena Fitzherbet. Alaric Waller. Rowan Ellison. Two clients; the Bushmore's boys."
Regulus ground his teeth, felt tears prickle but wouldn't let them fall. Would wait until he was alone this time.
He drew in a breath, glancing at Severus; "Was it the same people as before? Did they catch them?"
Severus averted his eyes so suddenly that he knew the other was holding something back.
Regulus' eyes narrowed; "Who was it?"
Severus knew. He knew who attacked the Foundation. He knew who had killed Evelyn; who had tried to kill his son.
Severus met his eyes, jaw set; "Eugene Hopkins."
Regulus could only stare.
Silence descended as he attempted to process it. Eugene had killed Evelyn. Eugene had killed Andromeda, Rowan, Alaric; people who he had worked with, closely with, for the past five years. Rowan had been his own apprentice.
And all had been innocent.
And Eugene. It was preposterous; such a fact, the act committed, could barely be reconciled with the boisterous, friendly older man who had guided them, him, for all these years.
One look at Severus and Regulus knew he felt the same. Betrayed. And yet…deserved.
The blood of the innocent, those Eugene had killed, were on his hands as much as the others.
Regulus pushed aside the thought. Another meltdown in front of Severus would do no good and he was certain that to do so would only make things worse; the last thing he wanted was to force Severus to become another 'shoulder', as his brother had been so eager to provide the previous evening.
"Did they catch him?"
"No. He is still at large."
"Right." Regulus pushed the information aside; "And the Dark Lord?"
"Until last night, seemed only interested in your safe return."
Regulus looked at him in bewilderment; bewilderment that was evidently shared.
"He is…more discreet than he had been previously. Guarded."
Severus went on to explain the particulars; secret assignments dished out amongst them, none of them shared with the others until the outcome had been reached. Karkaroff and Mossburn executed. Severus' potion to lift the Blood Curse. Lucius and Bellatrix presenting the Dark Lord with a vial of blood.
On and on as the uneasiness increased; both of them aware that something had changed within their Master.
The Dark Lord had been brilliant, cunning, powerful before.
This time, though, he had returned reserved; cautious.
Agenda unclear but most certainly there; hidden.
Something bigger, something sinister lurking in the shadows.
And it was only a matter of time before it struck.
Malachi peered around the door to his dad's bedroom.
His dad's eyes lit up right away at seeing him, shooting him a bright smile; "Hey, Beansprout!"
Malachi came into the room, eyeing him carefully - making sure he was really alright, like his Uncle Sirius had said - and, when his dad chuckled, holding out his arms to him, Malachi smiled widely and hurried up to the bed, climbing up beside him.
He looked at him at little bit shyly, not hugging him yet, and his dad raised an eyebrow; "Get in here, Son."
Malachi giggled, wrapping his arms around his dad, gently, and closed his eyes in relief, as his dad pressed a kiss to his head.
"You alright?" his dad murmured into his hair.
Malachi nodded, still held in his dad's arms, "Uh huh. Severus has been looking after me."
"I know. Done a good job, has he?"
Malachi nodded - he'd never be silly enough to say Severus was bad at anything - and then he drew back, eye wide and sparkling; "And Uncle Sirius too! I got to stay with him two times."
"Is that right?"
"Yes! For more than one night. Harry was there too."
"Bet you two got up to a fat load of mischief under Sirius' influence," his dad ruffled his hair, smiling warmly.
"Yeah. He's the best."
His dad just smiled, looking at him with lots of love in his eyes, that made Malachi duck his head, shyly, giving his dad another smile.
"But I'm really happy you're awake now."
His dad chuckled, dipping his chin to look at him.
"And I am very happy to see you, Son."
Malachi shuffled in closer, before he asked, hesitantly.
"Can I still see Uncle Sirius sometimes? Even though you're awake?" Malachi looked at him, hopefully.
His dad looked at him for a minute. Just looked at him, like he was thinking really hard.
And then he smiled, nodding his head.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think we could sort something out."
Malachi smiled, delightedly, while his dad gave him another hug.
"I thought it best I visit, prior to Narcissa. Ensure there is no lingering threat. Though my wife has been persistent, as you can imagine."
"As Bellatrix Lestrange experienced no side effects from the exposure, I imagine it would be safe for Narcissa to visit, should the occasion arise," Severus stated, as they stepped from the stairs into the living room.
"Would residual madness as a side-effect even be noticed in such a case?"
Severus smirked.
Lucius eyed the lodgings with undisguised disgust; "Surely you can have found better accommodations than this?"
Severus glanced around the house he had rented in Regulus' absence; not having the authority to sell Newton's while the other man had been alive and yet not, forcing him to postpone the sale and purchase of new lodgings. And to stay there was unthinkable with Hopkins on the loose.
This place, though, wasn't so bad. Severus had certainly lived in much worse – Spinner's End, for example – though he supposed the humble cottage he had found paled in comparison to Malfoy Manor.
"It will do."
Lucius sniffed, looking down his nose at the room once again, before beginning to head for the door.
"Lucius."
The other man turned to look at him, at the questioning in Severus' voice.
He shouldn't ask.
The Dark Lord's assignments, particularly now, when he did not see fit to disclose the manoeuvrings of his Death Eaters even to the others, were generally considered to be clandestine. Not something to be discussed amongst themselves.
And yet, Severus had to know. It gnawed at him and he knew it meant something. He knew it was key.
"The blood."
Lucius eyed him and then lifted his chin; "That Bellatrix and I procured?"
"Yes. Who's was it?"
Lucius was silent for a moment and Severus wondered if he would answer.
He and Lucius had always gotten along. Had always been friendly, even when the other had been a fifth year and Severus a scrawny first year.
Severus did not think it would be audacious of him to refer to them as friends.
It would not be the first time Severus had asked him for information regarding the Dark Arts; the Dark Lord. Nor vice versa.
And, yet, the request Severus made of him now seemed bigger; both knew the Dark Lord didn't want the knowledge to be generally known.
Lucius tilted his head, looking at Severus closely; "Neville Longbottom's."
The words seemed suspended in the air.
What?
This was…
This was bad.
Severus wasn't entirely sure what it meant, though he had an inkling. Blood Magic. The Longbottom boy. The Dark Lord's fall and return. His secrecy about the entire ordeal ever since.
It was all linked.
Severus' task had not been about Regulus at all.
It had been…
"Careful, Severus."
Severus met Lucius' eyes. The other man was regarding him with open amusement, unsurprised suspicion and cockiness.
Lucius raised an eyebrow; "Your loyalties are showing."
And, with that, Lucius made a sharp turn and strode from the house.