Chapter Forty-Two

Three locations down.

One more to go.

Regulus fingered through the information – muggle leaflets – he had gathered regarding the last one; his next scouting mission. Four planned excursions, along with the two scheduled Foundation events, would surely be enough to keep the boys' appetite for adventure quenched for the two weeks they were to be staying with him.

And Regulus was entirely certain that his own presence really wasn't all that in high demand, this year, now that Malachi had managed to bag himself the company of his best friend for the duration of the holidays. So, six planned occasions, and another ten days free for them to cause whatever mischief they wanted to in the cottage. Or wherever else they thought to drag him on out to – for they'd have to be chaperoned – if their ventures involved spending time outdoors.

One location – the one that had become rather dear to both himself and his son over the years – they'd have to miss out on. Hyde Park. Malachi would be disappointed, he knew – hell, he was disappointed – but it was too much of a risk. Too many witches and wizards ventured into that side of muggle London, this time of year, for that very occasion.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"'s open."

The door was pushed open, barely half a metre, and the head of his secretary – Eloise – poked through the gap, casting him a smile; "Sorry to bother you, Mr Black. There's a situation at the post; someone requesting an audience with you without the necessary clearance."

Regulus frowned, lowering the leaflet he had been reading, immediately curious; "Did they give a name?"

"She did. Narcissa Malfoy."

Regulus' eyebrows rose.

Eloise smiled and shrugged, evidently completely aware of who and what she was to him; his cousin.

Regulus cleared his throat, folding the leaflet in his hand and giving a nod; "Send her in."

Eloise vanished to do so, and Regulus tucked away the muggle leaflets he had scattered across his desk, out of sight, before getting to his feet, just as Narcissa stepped into the room.

"Cissy."

"Regulus," she smiled, warmly, as she clicked the door shut behind her, taking in the room; "This place certainly hasn't changed."

Regulus shrugged, unable to help smiling, himself, at seeing her again and stepped around the desk to approach; "I like familiarity."

"I'm quite fond of it, myself," she conceded, and he opened his arms when he reached her, drawing her in a hug; "It's good to see you."

She held on a little longer than one would normally expect of an embrace of greeting, and her eyes didn't entirely meet his when they parted.

Ah.

So that's what this was, then.

Regulus indicated at the chair closest to them, his guard immediately up; "What can I do for you?"

"Can't a cousin pop on by for a visit, without there being an ulterior motive?"

Narcissa took the seat indicated, as he headed back around the desk to do the same.

"Not these cousins," Regulus countered, with a smile; "Crombie –" a house elf appeared with a 'pop' at his side; " - tea and refreshments, if you will, please." The house elf bowed, lowly, uttering submissive comments before disappearing with another 'pop' to do as requested.

"'Please' to a house elf?" Narcissa said, laughter in her tone; "Only you, Regulus."

"Guilty as charged," he shrugged, his tone light and his smile still there, even if he was entirely suspicious and aware of the motives behind her visit, now; "I'm surprised to see you. Is this about what I said to you, a few months ago?"

He hoped it was. That she wanted out. That she was coming to him for help.

But, he knew, that wasn't what this was, as much as he should will it.

"Not quite. Not entirely, anyway."

She had an air of serenity, of composure, which she had always dropped in the past when it was just the two – or, rather, the three - of them which was a red flag, in itself. The muted civility. She was terrible at this. Regulus played along, regardless, as she carried on speaking; "With Draco out of the house for most of the year and myself twiddling my thumbs in the Manor, I do find myself immensely bored in his absence."

Crombie reappeared with the refreshments ordered, setting about with the arrangement of the plates of sandwiches and cakes upon his desk and then the pouring of tea.

Regulus smiled his thanks, receiving an eyeroll from Narcissa – who uttered out short, clipped instructions as to how she liked her own – before Crombie left them with a pop.

"I know the feeling," Regulus lifted a triangle of a sandwich, taking a bite; "With Malachi school bound now, the days seemed to have lost their lustre, a bit."

"At least you have here, to occupy yourself."

"As did you," Regulus said, pointing out; "This was yours, too, once upon a time. Us and Andie. The glory days, so they call it; even amongst the staff. They remember it well."

"Well, then, if even the staff refer to them as the glory days then who are we to deny them?"

Regulus nodded, regarding her, carefully for a second, before he cleared his throat, straightening up.

Just as he thought.

"That's why you're here? To resume your post?"

"Unless it's occupied by someone else?"

"Not yet. Though with the suspended Fundraisers about to resume, that is one of my current duties – preparing the advertisement for the Events Coordinator."

"Perfect timing. I can spare you that chore."

"And your husband?" Regulus pointed out; "He doesn't have an opinion on that?"

"Lucius and I are not in touch. Circumstances see to that."

Narcissa didn't quite meet his eyes.

"Oh, of course," Regulus conceded, and it was easy to feel sympathy, despite the fact he was certain she was lying; "But you may be, soon enough. I doubt he'd look kindly upon it."

"Severus works here," she stated.

Ouch.

Would she really go there?

"Oh, yes, so he does," Regulus leaned back, clasping his hands upon his desk; "He made a convincing case."

"And you believe him?" Narcissa pressed; "That he'll remain by your side, if the Dark Lord should rise once more?"

"Certainly. Do you think I'd allow him to walk freely within this organisation, otherwise?"

He would give her nothing more than that, on this matter.

Narcissa held his look. He wasn't even trying to hide that he knew what this was, what she was up to.

Narcissa smiled, more relaxed this time, and almost apologetic when she said, softly; "I think you are entirely too trusting for your own good, little cousin."

"I suppose that remains to be seen," Regulus lifted the advertisement for the post they had been discussing; "So, you want to come back?"

"I do."

"Alright."

"That's it?"

"I could schedule an interview, if you would like?"

"That won't be necessary. I'll start tomorrow, then."

"Excellent. Won't be needing this, anymore, then."

Regulus tore up the parchment.

"On a similar note, it seems that we – the Malfoys – have been rather lax in upholding our side of the investment agreement these past few years." She reached into her robes, pulling out a small, rolled up parchment.

"I would have thought the reasons for that were obvious."

Narcissa smiled, handing it over, and Regulus took and unrolled it – the Gringotts Payment Notice – and gave a tight smile as he glanced upon it.

"Very generous," he tucked it away; "Thank you."

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes."

Narcissa got to her feet and Regulus caught it, easily; the guilt in her eyes. The unease and the disappointment that he - apparently – had fallen for this little charade.

As if he – or anyone – ever would.

She was terrible at this.

Lucius was going to get her killed.

"Cissy."

Narcissa, having almost reached the door, turned back.

"Do tell Lucius I said hello."

Narcissa visibly relaxed – not exactly what one would expect of someone when you'd just revealed you knew they were setting you up.

Maybe she was not so far gone then.

"No, Reg," she shook her head, her smile warmer, this time; "I don't think I will."

Regulus smiled; "I suppose you must care a little, then?"

The regret in the room was palpable. That it had come to this; but, then, of course it would. There was nothing for it.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was quiet.

Regulus nodded; "I know. Stay safe, Cissy."

"You too, Reg."

"Have you lost your mind? You can't have Narcissa here, knowing this."

Severus was entirely exasperated.

And it was not with Regulus.

He had spent the better part of the past week at the Dark Lord's side – every moment that Hogwarts scheduling would allow – and when he wasn't and found himself within the walls of the Castle he was left fretting and wondering how on Earth to deal with the current circumstances surrounding the revelations that had been made to Harry some weeks before.

There was a reason spies should not have families.

Family drama; it was a luxury they simply could not afford. And with each passing day, it only became clearer that Harry had been nowhere near ready to know any of this.

The war was fast approaching.

Death Eaters mobilising and key opposers disappearing and people dying all around them – facts Harry was brushing off with infuriating flippancy with his comment that this all may as well go on forever if it only served his own interests – and it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord made his move, once and for all, and revealed himself to the Wizarding World once more.

With all that Severus was seeing and hearing, it would not be long until he did.

They could not be less ready for this.

"She's an ally; albeit a quiet one," Regulus stated, assuredly; "Better we have her here, knowing what the Dark Lord has her up to, rather than risk him sending in someone else."

"Whatever our previous relationships may be with her, neither of us can deny the fact that Narcissa would do whatever serves her own family's interest and do what is necessary to keep them safe; no matter the consequences to everyone else."

"Not exactly a different standpoint from us, then?" Regulus pointed out; "And I'm part of that family. She hasn't forgotten that. Nor should we forget; she was willing to go against Lucius before."

"I haven't forgotten. And I doubt Lucius would, either, should he learn the truth of how he ended up in Azkaban; she won't be so quick to act against him again, I should imagine."

"She didn't even try to hide it from me, what she was doing here."

"Regulus –"

"She's doing all that she can," Regulus shrugged; "She's as much caught up in all of this as the rest of us. And it's a nasty enough business as it is – war – and only further complicated when families are involved."

Severus lifted his eyes heavenwards; "Don't I know it."

Regulus' lips twitched; "Still no progress with Harry?"

"He talks about the war as if it is an inconvenience – to himself, I might add – and not with the gravity that it deserves. Even if not for the current circumstances, it would be concerning."

"Well, he's only fourteen."

"Malachi would never."

"Malachi's circumstances growing up were different."

"Not so different," Severus countered, before he nodded; "Though different enough, I suppose. But Harry witnessed it, if nothing else, and even that connection between Malachi's upbringing and how it could echo that of his sister is not enough to get through to him."

"Hasn't Lily spoken to him?" Regulus frowned; "She seemed determined that she would."

"I doubt Harry would entertain it, whatever she has to say on the matter," Severus said, pinching the bridge of his nose; "For now, he's in Dumbledore's hands."

"He is? I'd heard Dumbledore was tied up dealing with Crouch."

"Crouch?"

"Ministry goings on – there's been whispers."

Severus frowned. He had been under the impression that Dumbledore had been spending his absences with Harry – though he had been enough out of the loop, with being tied up in the South, during his own free time these past few weeks.

Well, that wouldn't do. If Dumbledore was unable to carry on with the lessons – immediately – then someone else would have to do so.

Severus sighed, pushing all thoughts of that aside. He'd speak with Dumbledore about it later and there were far more pressing matters to address at the present moment, his time at the Foundation scarce, with all the movements being made on each side keeping him busy. He placed a roll of parchment on Regulus' desk; "The Dark Lord has asked that I assess the various strengths and weaknesses of the Foundation's defences."

Regulus straightened, immediately sobering at the statement.

Severus pushed the parchment towards him; "There aren't many – the Security Agencies have done their jobs well enough – but there are points of concern."

Regulus unrolled it, glancing over it carefully, while Severus waited.

"He'll try to get in through the East entrance, by the Counselling Department."

"Most likely," Severus conceded; "Dumbledore's measures are not foolproof. He, himself, is the greatest deterrent to attacking the Castle. You, I'm afraid, are more of a draw."

Regulus nodded; "True enough. I'll strengthen them." He glanced at the other points that Severus had noted – various weak points and measures and spells that could counter those taken to keep the Dark Lord and Hopkins out – and made some notes onto a spare parchment at his side.

"He'll wait for something big; if he's going to reveal himself in an effort to catch me then he's going to want to do it with style."

"One of the Yuletide events, no doubt."

"Well, we can rule out the first. That's company personnel only."

"I thought the same – it will be easier to tighten security for that event – but New Year's Eve –"

"I'll adjust the clearances."

"Not entirely necessary but it would stabilise the risks. And with these procedures in place –" he nodded at the security measures Regulus was noting down; "It would be almost impossible for anyone to get in with intent to harm."

"I'm supposed to be bringing Harry and Malachi to this event," Regulus stated, leaning back and looking at Severus with concern; "You really think we can hold this off?"

"Well, the Foundation is really under no greater risk than it always is – it is, and will be even more so after these adjustments, one of the most secure facilities in the country – and didn't you say you have developed portkeys that will see to it the boys can be quickly moved to safety these holidays, if any situation should call for it?"

"Yes."

"Then it's the others who will be present we'd have to worry about, if Death Eaters were to somehow break through the defence enchantments and there'd be ample time to get the attendees out, in any case. It would take an intruder just over four minutes to get from the East entrance to the ballroom," Severus said, leaning back; "Have security measures placed upon the ballroom itself, an additional security presence – as a precaution, I doubt they'd truly be necessary so far in – further portkeys and set up the fireplaces to the Floo network; you could do that covertly, I imagine, using your connections at the Ministry?"

Regulus nodded.

Severus went on; "I've carried out the assessments. We could have this place evacuated in less than three minutes. The only risk to life would be if someone were to defy the orders to leave."

"Which no one would do."

"I imagine they'd have to be quite the idiot, indeed, to stick around if they knew the Dark Lord, himself, were present."

"Right," Regulus nodded. He pushed the parchment Severus had given to him back in his direction and got to his feet, rolling up his own written responses to it.

"I'll set to work about this then."

Harry headed on down to the dungeons with a scowl.

Snape just wouldn't take the hint!

In the aftermath of their encounter the previous week – when Harry had made it perfectly clear exactly what he thought of the man and the expectation that he would actually be joining the family when all this was over – Snape had gone back to his usual ways; silence and ignoring him.

But then, other than during Potions classes, Harry hadn't had much opportunity to run into him. He'd been peculiarly absent from any and all meals in the Great Hall for the past couple of weeks and Harry was glad of it; that Snape had something else to keep him occupied, other than sitting staring at him over mealtimes.

Harry had thought he'd manage to get to the holidays without having to deal with him at all – they were only a few days away now – but no such luck.

He'd received a message an hour before, telling him that his Occlumency lessons were to resume that evening – not with Dumbledore, as Harry had previously gotten word of – but with Snape.

Joy.

Harry stepped across the threshold of the office, ten minutes later than the note had indicated.

"You are late."

Harry jumped.

Snape was standing behind him, as he walked in.

Harry shrugged.

"With an attitude like that, you'll be lucky not to leave here with written assignments for every day of the holidays, Mr Potter; that is your first and final warning."

Snape was obviously in a mood; walking on by him and going to the front of the office.

"Why am I here?" Harry asked, crossing his arms across his chest; "I thought Dumbledore was taking over the lessons."

"As it happens, the Headmaster is occupied with more pressing matters," Snape said, sounding as unimpressed as Harry was by the information.

Of course. What an inconvenience it must be, to have to train him up in all of this.

"If there are no furthers questions -" Snape went on, pausing for a second as if actually giving Harry the chance to make some, before he raised an eyebrow; " - then we shall begin. Can you recall what happened during our final occlumency lesson, last month?"

"Yeah. I found out your big secret," Harry bit out.

"Incorrect. I am referring to the lesson following. Where you quite successfully managed to expel me from your mind."

Harry frowned, trying to remember doing so; "Oh. That was an accident."

He'd thrown Snape out of his mind with so much force, they'd both ended up on their arses. Harry fought a smile. Hopefully he'd be able to do that again.

"I am quite aware that your success was accidental, Mr Potter," Snape said, crossing his arms; "A most fortunate occurrence, I must admit. This past half year, I have been attempting to advise you in a manner that requires you demonstrate some self-control over your emotions. An endeavour that has proven entirely fruitless, shockingly enough, and, it seems, unnecessary."

"Right. So, I can go, then?"

Snape glowered at him.

There was a disappointment behind the annoyance that suitably cowed him.

"Mr Potter; are you aware of just how precarious your circumstances are at this very moment?"

Harry lifted his chin, defiantly; "Obviously."

"Obviously," Snape repeated, slowly, before shaking his head and closing his eyes.

He pinched the bridge of his nose; "Mr Potter; if you were truly aware of the dangers you would not be exhibiting such blatant disregard for this practice. Indeed, you exhibited far more interest – and that is saying something, indeed – before you became aware of the current circumstances; circumstances which ought to demonstrate to you just how essential this particular exercise is for your own protection; as well as for those whom you hold dear."

"Except it's not only me who holds them dear, is it?"

"If anything, that ought to determine just how invested I am in your success."

"Right. Nothing to do with me, then."

Snape released a breath – and Harry was suddenly struck by how exhausted the man looked – before he bit out, barely holding back from snapping; "Precisely, Potter. This is about something far bigger than you. As it so happens, such things do exist."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Forget it," he turned, making to storm from the room. He was only a few steps from the door, when it slammed shut and locked itself in front of him.

Harry spun around, furiously; "Let me out."

"No."

Snape was standing exactly where Harry had left him.

"Consider it a challenge, Mr Potter. You keep me out. I let you out."

"You can't keep me in here forever!"

Snape scoffed; "Surely you have more faith in your abilities than that."

Harry scowled, his hatred for the man intensifying.

"Loathing will do nothing, I am afraid, when it comes to defending yourself in this practice," Snape stated, quickly picking up on what Harry was feeling; "As I was beginning to explain. Your success in our previous lesson was not due to self-control or restraint; rather, it was the sheer magnitude of that out of control emotional response of yours that saw to it."

Harry frowned, actually stopping to consider the information this time; "I got you out because I was angry?"

"Grief, was, in fact, the prevailing emotion I experienced. One that the Dark Lord would be quite unable to comprehend or withstand, should he be faced with it. Grief, love, remorse; such things are beyond his understanding."

"Right. I got you out with it too. Explains a lot."

Snape's eyes lifted towards the ceiling.

"Care to try again, Mr Potter?"

Harry held his look for a moment.

Then he shrugged.

Fine. If Snape wanted to be hit with all this crap, then so be it – and good. He wanted someone else to feel it, after all, and get it, for once, instead of coming back at him with excuses about how it was all necessary and how he was a child who needed to be protected and whatever else they could pull out their arses at the time.

"So, what, I just have to…project grief onto you?"

"The emotion of choice is up to yourself, Mr Potter."

"Grief works."

"But will it always?" Snape pointed out; "Grief fades."

"Don't all emotions fade?"

"Not all."

Harry stared at him, thinking on the others Snape had mentioned.

Remorse; Harry hadn't had much experience with that.

Maybe what happened with Sirius – how he'd blamed himself for that, before – he'd surely been feeling remorse, when he'd held onto all of that. But, then, that had faded now, too, just like he'd suggested – that all emotions do – and it was Snape, himself, who had finally helped Harry to move on and let go of that.

But, then, the other option Snape had put forward was love.

And Harry wasn't really feeling the love all that much these days.

Maybe for Malachi.

Definitely for Grace.

But, then, did he really want to be mustering up feelings about either of them when Voldemort was mucking about in his head? Grace, especially. Anytime he thought about his baby sister, now, Snape wasn't all that far behind; Harry had been trying to do what Snape had been teaching him all year – to block those thoughts out about her – but he'd just admitted that was a dead duck, now. Harry couldn't do it.

Harry shrugged, repeated his earlier statement; "Grief works."

Snape nodded, and Harry thought he saw the ghost of a smile on the man's lips – that Harry was cooperating – and he pushed down the little flicker of satisfaction he felt when it did; as if Harry even cared what Snape thought or about actually pleasing him in any way.

Snape opened his mouth to speak – no doubt to issue further instructions – when he suddenly froze. The only movement was the slightest twitch of the fingers of his left hand. Snape drew in a breath, before he cleared his throat, tugging on the collar of his robes.

"Grief, yes," Snape said, in concession and it sounded as if it were about to become a dismissal. Snape flicked his wand and the lock to the door clicked behind him – unlocking – and Harry frowned as Snape went on; "It is grief, in fact, that maintains your current defences. An appropriate choice. Though I urge you to try to employ some others, in preparation for our next lesson."

"Our next lesson?" Harry repeated; "I thought –"

"Indeed. Tomorrow evening. At the same time," Snape stated, making to pass by him; "As it happens, I have a matter of pressing importance I must attend to."

"You know what, just forget it," Harry rolled his eyes, turning away.

"Potter," Snape caught him by the arm, giving him a meaningful look; "I have to go."

It only took a second for Harry to realise what Snape meant. He frowned, wondering how he suddenly knew that Voldemort needed to speak with him.

Still.

It wasn't as if Harry even cared.

He shrugged; "Whatever."

And turned, heading from the office.