Chapter Three

"Harry's been asking questions."

Lily said this as if it were something to be concerned about.

As far as Severus was concerned, her son could do with asking more questions, rather than less. Perhaps if he did, then rational thought would follow for once and Severus would be spared the joy of cleaning up yet another mess.

Severus didn't voice the thought.

He didn't have to, Lily could read him like a book, and he caught the eye roll of hers before she elaborated without need for encouragement.

"About Grace."

"What about Grace?"

"She's been talking about her father, about you, every day since Harry came home for Christmas."

"I thought Lupin had dealt with it."

"Imaginary dad isn't cutting it anymore. He asked me about it before he left."

"What did you say?"

"What do you think I said? I know he can't know."

"It's not safe for him –"

"I know, Severus," Lily interrupted him, her voice belying her obvious exasperation at another of their unwelcome truths. It was easy within these walls to forget it all and pretend they were normal, that Harry wasn't there simply because he was at a school that boards, that Grace was there because she was too young to attend, that Severus was there because he had just finished a typical day at work.

"But it can't be explained away as the dreams of a little girl anymore," Lily went on; "Harry knows her father exists, if nothing else, even if we do manage to pass it off as such."

"Surely he is aware of the nature of the birds and the bees. Does he really need to be given the details of his mother's excursions?"

Lily shot him a look.

"He asked if it's Remus."

Severus pursed his lips.

"He probably heard something at school. Now that Remus is teaching there."

"Or perhaps it's because Lupin has taken it upon himself to impose upon the family holidays."

Lily hesitated at that, meeting his eyes.

When he said nothing, not quite willing to back down from the obvious indication that he was less than pleased with Lupin's far-too-great a role in their family life, Lily shook her head, ignoring the underlying tension; "It's no different than what he's used to. Remus has never missed a Christmas with him." She drew in a breath; "Either way, it doesn't change the issue. It's not Remus and I told him that. Now he wants to know who."

The solution was obvious. If her son persisted with the questions, she was simply going to have to be as vague as possible until he relented.

If he didn't relent, which Severus was certain was entirely possible, then Lily was going to have to lie. Again.

Severus could see that she knew that. Even if she was still in denial.

In some ways, they had been entirely prepared for where they had ended up and what they had gotten themselves into. Both had entered the relationship with eyes wide open. Hell, they had talked and talked and resisted long enough for the truth of their circumstances to be known.

Yet, here they were, and for years they had struggled over it; how to deal with the lies when it came to Grace and Potter.

It was the one thing Lily always seemed to stumble over.

When it had started, it had been almost easy. Although it certainly didn't feel like it at the time, with the Dark Lord having risen again. But compared to now, with the stakes even higher, the truths even more dangerous, the looming threat even greater, it had simply been a picnic in the park. She had only really had to lie to Lupin and Julia.

And Black.

Lily had taken it in stride.

Lying to her children though, especially with her son becoming more aware, Severus was certain nothing could have prepared her for it.

"Maybe things will be different soon."

It was a feeble attempt at comfort, especially considering that 'different' in this case would be by no means better.

They were still waiting for the Dark Lord to rise once more.

Lily didn't get the chance to respond, as a patronus swept into the room suddenly, silencing them both.

It wasn't the first time it had happened and certainly wouldn't be the last.

Nevertheless, a luminescent phoenix bursting into the privacy of their bedroom in the middle of the night, accompanied by Dumbledore's most unwelcome voice, wasn't something either of them could really get used to.

Severus fought his amusement when Lily modesty pulled the bedclothes up further, as if it were Dumbledore himself who had burst into the room.

She always did that.

"Forgive the late hour, Severus. I must ask that you come to my office at your earliest convenience."

Severus was up and out of bed before the message concluded, readying himself to return to Hogwarts after another too-short visit home. Neither voiced the fact that Grace would be disappointed when she woke to find him gone, both aware that Dumbledore's summons could only mean one of two things.

Either Potter had done something that required Severus' intervention, the most likely reason, or there had been some new development in the war effort.

Severus leaned down, pressing a kiss to Lily's temple; "Goodnight."

She didn't ask him any questions and he offered no assurances of explanations.

They'd gotten good at this.

But that truth did nothing to stop the churn in his stomach as he left their home once more.

Figures surrounded him in the darkness.

Masked faces gleamed in candlelight.

And then there was the voice.

It was different, almost rasping, but Harry still knew it.

He had only heard it once. That was enough that he would never forget it.

"Friends, you have remained loyal to me. This will not be forgotten. And soon our time will come once more."

Harry woke with a gasp, bolting upright as he did, finding himself tangled in the bedsheets and soaked with sweat, clearly having been tossing and turning for a while. But it was the scar that had woken him, more than the tangle or the dream, a searing burn that made him clutch at it with a groan.

"Harry?"

He peered past his hand at Ron, who was watching him with a bleary frown.

"You alright?"

Harry lifted his chin in both the affirmative and as a dismissal, before he turned to his side to face away from him, shaking and hurting and more than a little freaked out by the nightmare.

It wasn't the first time. He'd been having nightmares about the dark wizard who had killed Sirius since the night it happened, had even mentioned them to Professor Dumbledore when he had come upon him one night in his first year.

But this was different, they had been different for some time, but it had taken so long for him to realise that he couldn't pinpoint when they had gone from his memories to this.

It was as if Harry was there, as if he was seeing things that were happening, as if he were the one speaking and had become the monster.

It was as if everything he was seeing was real.

They didn't do goodbyes.

They certainly didn't do good mornings.

Yet Regulus couldn't help it, that niggle of guilt he got whenever he slipped from the room, from the house, leaving her behind with barely a word.

But then, there was no reason for guilt, not really, as she had never asked for anything more of him than these occasional nights, a giggle in the bars when they happened to run into one another, sometimes a word or two about things that troubled them but it was always without obligation. She never indicated she wanted anything more.

In fact, Regulus was quite certain that she would refuse if he were to offer it.

The heavy stuff, that just wasn't what they did.

Even if he did feel it, sometimes, the desire to see more, to ask more, to simply know her but he daren't voice it because he had no right, not when he wouldn't – couldn't – offer up anything of himself in turn.

"Regulus."

"Hm?"

"Stop thinking so loud. Some of us are trying to sleep."

Regulus couldn't help but grin.

Julia cracked an eye open from where she was sprawled amongst the sheets, offering a wry smile of her own, before she nuzzled back into her pillow, fully intending to go straight to sleep.

That was as sentimental as they got.

Regulus left without a word.

Minutes later, a quick apparation and a few unspoken words to lift the additional wards, had him stepping into the living room of his Fidelius-protect cottage, fully ready to head on up to bed and crash out himself, maybe even have a late start in the morning. Surely it was earned, after a successful evening of Horcrux hunting.

"Late night?"

He almost leapt from his skin when a cloaked figure suddenly stood from one of the armchairs.

Severus crossed his arms across his chest, looking mildly amused at his skittishness.

Well, obviously he was skittish. He was still a marked man, after all, and there were still those loyal who would be more than happy to keep Regulus' severed head on a platter as a future offering for when the Dark Lord returned.

Regulus only grinned in response; both to the rhetorical question and Severus' presence.

"Well, to what do I owe this honour?"

Severus smirked outright at that.

It had been far too long.

Long gone were the glory days of the previous gap between wars when the two would sit and converse – or, rather, Regulus would converse while Severus perused his books – over firewhiskey and rumours of the Dark Lord's return.

Of course, there were still rumours though both knew they were not 'rumours' anymore. They were truths. They were still as doomed as ever. Some things never change.

At least the first time round, he'd had Severus to commiserate joyously with. This time, they were on their own; Severus living out the lie and Regulus still, pretty much, in hiding.

Of all the people lost, Severus was the one he missed the most.

Of course, if Severus were here it was no social call. Something was either wrong or he needed his help, but neither seemed all that inclined to get right down to business.

Like he said, it had been too long, and Regulus said as much.

"Obviously," Severus conceded, eyeing the more-than-a-little disorderly room; books, quills and parchments lay scattered here, there and everywhere, along with various day to day bits and pieces. Kreacher had never been a particularly fastidious house elf, which, much to Severus' annoyance when they lived together, Regulus had never fussed much over - that wasn't why he kept him around, after all - though apparently, it seemed the house elf and himself had simply let the dwellings go in light of the fact that he was here, alone, now with very few opportunities at receiving visitors.

Only those that he both trusted and who knew his secret keeper.

Regulus rolled his eyes, flicking his wand and the mess was instantly rectified.

"Was that so hard?" Severus remarked.

"Not at all, your Grace."

"Where have you been?"

"Have you been worried sick?"

Severus snickered, shaking his head, and that was all it took for Regulus to finally laugh outright and step towards him, throwing an arm around him in a hug.

"Let me get out the firewhiskey. I've been saving it."

"For what?"

"For this most special occasion, of course."

"You're so full of it, Regulus. But no, thank you, I can't stay."

"It's been over a year and you're rushing off? Is that what we've come to?"

It was said in jest but it made Severus pause, meeting his eyes. And then he smiled, no longer wry or smirking, and rolled his eyes; "Very well."

Regulus accioed the bottle, already open, as he really was only joking before. What else did he have to do other than indulge in a glass of his own on the nights he wasn't quite up to risking capture in the local bars or when the trail of the Horcruxes ran dry, after all.

It had been a lonely sixteen months since Malachi had finally escaped this prison and headed off to Hogwarts. Yet he couldn't quite long for the summer, when his son would be expelled back to the joys of these four walls once more; he knew his son was happy and thriving now, finally able to experience what life should be like, if he could only be free.

Regulus handed over a full glass to Severus, both taking seats in the armchairs, and the familiarity of it all was almost too much. He didn't feel sadden by it though, if anything, he felt giddy.

Successfully mission, sex and best buddy all in one day.

He had surely been good in his past life, at least.

"How's Malachi settling? Have there been any other issues? What with -"

"He's fine. Don't worry about him."

"I'm not worried. You're there."

"The great protector of unruly youths, that is me."

There was a slight bite to the statement but Regulus only grinned.

"There's always room for you at the Foundation."

"He wouldn't have it."

"The Dark Lord? Or Dumbledore?"

"Both, I imagine. And it is hardly conductive to maintaining cover."

"I'm sure you'd come up with a good enough excuse to save your skin, lest you lose your sanity in that place. You managed to disown me quite impressively with your smooth talking before."

"Things are different now. People are watching."

It was true.

Everything was different this time. The Death Eaters knew better, now, than to assume it was over. None of them dared believe that the Dark Lord had been defeated. And all had learned from their mistakes, none more so than those whom had opted to deny their loyalty in order to escape Azkaban the first time around.

Not a single Death Eater offered up names of others in exchange for clemency.

If you were accused, you went to Azkaban, where you bided your time until the Dark Lord came for you.

The only other choice was to run and wait in exile before the Aurors could come for you, thereby admitting guilt and being hunted by the Aurors in the meantime.

Only a handful of Death Eaters had done so.

A handful was enough.

It was those whom Regulus and Severus had to be wary of.

There was much to say but neither spoke it. Regulus daren't ask about Lily, or Grace, because though it was perfectly obvious whom the little girl's father was and though Severus knew that Regulus knew the truth, neither of them ever voiced it out loud. It was too dangerous, to have the words spoken, should Regulus eventually fall into the Dark Lord's grasp.

It was dangerous enough, Severus coming here at all, the thought enough to pique Regulus' curiosity.

"Has something happened?"

"Yes." Severus placed his empty glass on the table; "There has been a mass escape from Azkaban."

Regulus frowned. This wasn't news. That had happened months ago; "Wasn't that the reason for the dementors being stationed at Hogwarts?"

"A source has revealed the names of the escaped inmates. Dumbledore told me tonight, Lucius is one of them."

Regulus drew in a slow breath, averting his eyes, as he thought on the information.

Lucius was family. But he was no friend of his.

"So?"

"Has Narcissa said anything to you?"

"No. We're not exactly on speaking terms."

"She told me she invited you for Christmas."

"No doubt at Lucius' request."

Regulus stood at that, realising the probable reason for the outreach. A trap.

Severus shrugged; "I admit I was surprised at the invitation. I thought, perhaps, you had reconciled since we'd last spoken."

Of course, Severus still spent his Christmases at the Manor. It wasn't as if he could spend them at home. Regulus resisted the urge to ask about them, Narcissa and Draco, considering the new information. Had the Malfoys come up only ten seconds before he wouldn't have hesitated.

Severus had told him what Narcissa had done, that it was his cousin who had seen to it that Severus knew that Lucius had found him. That it was Lucius who had sent the Dark Lord after Sirius.

His cousin's husband had signed both his and his brother's death sentence.

Narcissa had been willing, that night, to betray her husband to save him.

And, now, it seemed she was willing to lure Regulus to the Manor under the guise of family to sell him off to a pack of escaped Death Eaters.

"She seemed sincere, Regulus," Severus interrupted his thoughts, acutely aware of where Regulus' thoughts had turned; "I doubt she has been in touch with him. Lucius wouldn't come to her. It wouldn't be safe for either Narcissa or Draco to know his whereabouts. And he certainly wouldn't involve her in any Death Eater activities. She may be entirely unaware he has escaped at all."

It was absurd to be hurt in any case, even if she had decided to turn him over. Regulus had done far worse, after all. Her sister and his brother were both dead and the blame for both deaths could be placed entirely at his feet; maybe, with Sirius' death, she had simply had enough.

But Severus spoke sense.

Lucius was guilty of many things but one couldn't accuse him of ever not putting his wife and son first. Unless the Dark Lord, himself, had somehow gotten to him, there was nothing that could convince him to bring Narcissa into all of this.

Regulus sighed, unable to help himself; he still cared; "How is she?"

"Different."

"How so?"

Severus lifted a palm, his eyes belying his own concern for his cousin; "Nothing other than what you'd expect of someone who has lost it all."

Regulus sighed, part of him wishing he had accepted the invitation at Christmas. After all, what did he have to lose at this point. Malachi was safe at Hogwarts, under the protection of Dumbledore and Severus, and Lily knew just as much as he did about the hunt for the Horcruxes. If it were a trap, at least he'd have had good company and a nice meal before it'd all be over.

Except, it wouldn't be over.

Even if he were to go, the war went on.

And that was the part that kept him going.

Regulus was more determined than ever, with Sirius' death, to see this thing through to the end. Maybe he couldn't right the wrongs of his past, maybe all that the Foundation had been built to do would never measure up, but he would be there, he would be fighting, until the Dark Lord fell at last.

Then it could be over.

After all that had happened, all that had been lost, death was more than he deserved. It was too easy. There was still more that he could do to end this.

And he wouldn't allow himself to rest until he did.

"You certainly know how to throw a party, Regulus," Severus remarked, interrupting his thoughts, and Regulus noticed him refilling their glasses once more.

Regulus grinned then, taking the offered glass and raising it in Severus' direction; "Just been waiting for my partner in crime."

Severus offer a grin of his own in turn, clinking his own glass dutifully to his, and it was good and right and so, unbelievably, home that Regulus couldn't help but feel all the tension he had carried for the past six years leave him.

And for a few hours, the two of them pretended it was ten years earlier, 1984, and it was the two of them against the world and they were just rich and famous and a little bit happy with the life they had built before it had all come tumbling down.