Chapter Sixty-Six

"Dad! Are you ready? We're gonna be late!"

Malachi pushed the door to his dad's room open, finding it empty, and went inside, glancing impatiently at the timepiece as he did so.

It was already after twelve and with having to pick up Daphne as well – now that Harry's crush had seemed to drive all common sense out of the window – they were going to be more than just a little bit late to get to the party.

Malachi tucked the little present he'd gotten for him into his pocket, eyeing the room warily when he didn't find his dad in either the closest or the bathroom, half-expecting him to jump out at him dressed up as a dementor or something – it wouldn't be the first time – and his eyes caught sight of the rolls of parchments – the official kind – that had been lain aside on his dad's bedside table.

Malachi went over, lifting it, curious but without much thought, really. And it wasn't until he read the top few lines that he realised – going cold as he did – what it was he was holding.

A Bequeathment Notice.

His dad's Bequeathment Notice.

Malachi eyed it, eyes skimming and darting from sentence to sentence, barely able to really take any of it in, what with the way his mind raced at the discovery.

…I hearby nominate Lily Potter as my Personal Representative to administer this Last Will and Testament…I bequeath and devise to my son, Malachi Regulus Black, all my estate and property be that real, personal or business, including, but not limited to, the Aurelius Foundation in its entirety…lest twenty percent of my personal fortune to be divided in equal shares amongst the following nominated persons; Nymphadora Tonks, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter and Grace Potter…In the event of my death, as sole parent I appoint the aforementioned Personal Representative, Lily Potter, as sole guardian of Malachi Regulus Black…"

Malachi dropped it back onto the table, feeling sick and stepping away as if burned – he was burned – by it; the confirmation that what he'd been thinking, fearing, for the past few weeks was right; that his dad was, basically, just getting his affairs in order in the event of his death.

"Malachi? You up here?"

Malachi hurried away from the bed, pretending he'd never seen it – not wanting to talk or even think about it – and he met his dad's eyes when he came to the door.

"Aren't you ready? I've been waiting outside."

"Sorry. I…I was getting Harry's present," Malachi brushed by him; "Let's go."

Malachi forced himself to smile and laugh along with his dad's jokes, as they made their way to collect Daphne. The little thoughts flitting on by in his mind, shoved aside behind smiles and jokes of his own – he was getting better at that – until eventually struck by the big one, the stark truth, that had Severus not been involved with Mrs. Potter his dad wouldn't have had any name to write down on the notice to take care of his affairs or him, at all.

And it was with a pang and a glance in his dad's direction, that he realised just how alone in the world his dad actually was.

Daphne was waiting.

There was a polite silence – smiles and jokes coming to an end – all the way from the Foundation to Harry's.

Neither she nor his dad seeming much inclined, upon their introduction, to acknowledge the fact that his dad knew and despised her father and, in lieu of mentioning it, the three of them had made their way there in relative awkwardness, as if none could think of anything to fill to quiet– odd for his dad, under all circumstances – until they finally reached Harry's and headed on through the door.

"Mrs. Potter said you can stay if you want," Malachi told him, as he shrugged out of his outer robe, hoping he would stay and be with people rather than by himself; "There's gonna be food and games and stuff. People you know. Dora will be here."

"Dora?" his dad frowned, closing the door behind them; "Why would Dora come to Harry's birthday?"

"Didn't Mrs. Potter have you write down the address last week? Well. Yeah. That was for Dora. She'll be Professor Lupin's date."

"His date?"

Malachi snickered at the look on his dad's face.

"Yeah. They were at it all term."

"At it. Hm," his dad raised his eyes to the ceiling, before he put a hand on Malachi's shoulder, bending the few inches down to his eye level; "You do have a way with words, Son."

The door to the living room swung open, drawing both their attention to who had just walked into the room.

"Miss Bradbury."

His dad looked like he'd seen a ghost.

Julia smiled, widely, immediately upon seeing them; "Hey, you two."

She met Daphne's eyes, where she was standing awkwardly off the side; "You're Daphne, right? Harry's through here," she indicated with an incline of her head and Daphne made a swift escape through the door at the invitation.

"Hey Julia," Malachi said, with a smile, as she left.

His dad just continued to stare at her, stupidly, saying nothing. And when it carried on long enough for it to become embarrassing, Julia's warm smile turned to a little grin and she headed on by them up to the counter.

"Huh," his dad finally said, when she was out of earshot, straightening up, his eyes still upon her where she stood; "Maybe I will stick around."

"Aw, Dad. She dumped you, remember?"

His dad's lips pursed together – but there was a little smile developing upon them now – and he gave Malachi a couple of pats on the back; "Thanks for the reality check, Son. Go. Have fun."

He pushed Malachi in the direction of the door while he, himself, headed towards where Julia stood, having not taken his eyes off of her since the moment she'd walked into the room.

Malachi rolled his eyes and headed through to the living room, finding Ron and Hermione already there, sitting on the couch, and Daphne and Harry sitting on the floor in front of them.

"…and it's caused a real big stir," Hermione was saying, with her eyes lit up in obvious excitement; "The first demonstration is next week. I was telling Ron we should go."

"What demonstration?" Malachi asked, as he reached them.

"Oh, it's the One World Demonstrations. From the papers. You wouldn't know it."

"Why wouldn't he know it?" Daphne challenged the assumption.

"Oh. Well. Because…"

Hermione cast an apologetic look his way, obviously uncomfortable, and worried she'd offended him.

"Some guy called Max MacLean –" Harry said, directly to Malachi, before things could get awkward; "- wrote an article about abolishing the Statute and forging a closer relationship between the Wizarding and Muggle Worlds. People like it."

Harry's eyes twinkled.

Malachi shot him a look.

"Never heard of him."

"I couldn't go to the demonstrations even if I wanted to," Harry said, back to Hermione now; "Let me know how it is though. Sounds awesome."

"Will there be muggles?" Malachi asked, curiously, having heard nothing about these demonstrators at all. But, then, he and his dad had spent pretty much all of the last four weeks removed from the Wizarding World all together, except to sleep.

"No," Hermione shook her head; "It's peaceful and breaching the Statute of Secrecy to make a point would kind of defeat the point."

"Well, what is the point?" Ron asked, looking bored by the topic.

"To encourage a better understanding and cohabitation between wizards and muggles, of course," Hermione explained, rolling her eyes, before she went on, with the same excitement as before to the rest of them; "It would really make such a difference to muggleborns, you know, if something like this were to actually happen."

"Can't you just wear your cloak, Harry?" Ron piped up; "That's what it's there for, right?"

"What cloak?" Daphne frowned.

"Oh. Nothing." Ron shared a glance with Hermione, who shot him a look.

Harry met Daphne's eyes, giving her a grin; "Invisibility Cloak."

Daphne scoffed.

"Oh, yeah right."

"What? I'm serious," Harry said, and Malachi thought he might actually puff out his chest and just start strutting, there and then; "I'll show it to you if you like. It's upstairs."

Malachi scoffed and Harry met his eyes. Malachi snickered and gave him a mocking thumbs up behind Daphne's back at the oh-so-subtle invitation to his bedroom.

Grace came running down the stairs, then, jumping the last couple into the room with Mrs. Potter on her heels; "Hi Malachi!" she greeted him, excitedly, before her eyes turned upon Daphne, curiously.

"Are you Daphne?" she asked her.

"Grace –" Harry started, looking annoyed already.

"Yes," Daphne gave her a little smile; "Hi. I've seen you around school. It's Grace, isn't it?"

"Please to meet you," Grace held out a hand and Daphne shook it, getting a wider smile; "Are you my brother's girlfriend?"

"Aw, Grace, get lost," Harry blushed, reaching over and giving her a gentle shove; "Go and help mum."

"Mummy doesn't need help. She said I could come and play with all of you," Grace said, with a wide smile, plonking down on the chair next to where Malachi was standing.

She indicated with her hand that Malachi lean down and he grinned and did so – going along with the act of secrecy – and she cupped her hand to his ear before she spoke.

He expected some smart comment about Harry and Daphne.

Instead, she whispered; "Your dad's in the kitchen with Julia."

Malachi rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I know."

Julia stood up from where she'd been kneeling, lining a few trays along the top of the counter and reaching for the packets of food that were to be cooked.

Regulus stood beside her, watching her work.

She met his eyes, getting a little smile; "What?"

"What?"

"Oh, so you just came over here to stand and stare in silence?" she asked, with a laugh in her voice, as she plucked out the raw pastries from the bag she held, arranging them one by one on the tray.

"What can I say, Miss Bradbury, your presence has rendered me quite speechless."

Julia chuckled, shaking her head, her voice as affectionate as it was playful; "Wow, I didn't even know that was possible."

"Wonders never cease. Hell, indeed, must have frozen over."

Julia's shoulders shook with amusement, and she met his eyes again, seeming almost as giddy and delighted by his presence as he was hers. And she didn't even bother to hide anything about how she felt about him, either; it was all there in her expression when she looked at him. And his own affection for her swelled in turn, making him cross his arms to stop himself for reaching for her as a wave of longing quickly followed.

Merlin, he had missed her.

He had thought, in fact, that he would never see her again in his life.

"So," Regulus gave a little shrug, still smiling with his arms still crossed; "Riddle me this. I heard you were long gone."

She gave a nod, meeting his eyes briefly when she looked up from the tray she was preparing, the giddiness dimming somewhat at the reminder.

"Got a plane tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Regulus repeated, feeling mischievous, now; "Fancy that, huh? Your last day on the continent is to be spent in my company. Funny thing, fate."

"Oh, fate it must be. I told Harry I'd stick around; see his birthday. I don't have to sign on until Wednesday."

"Well that's a tight squeeze."

It was Monday, after all, and with the time difference she'd be stumbling from the plane straight into work. And he couldn't help but notice that while he had been utterly floored by her presence when she'd walked through the door, she had not been at all surprised to see him.

"Any other reason for holding off so late?"

Julia met his eyes and he got a cheeky smile.

"I mean. You knew I'd be here."

Julia pursed her lips together, as if trying to suppress a smile, and Regulus knew, then, with a little flutter in his heart that she'd stuck around, here, purposefully to see him.

Even if she didn't admit it. Instead, she carried on with the task at hand and Regulus, feeling a little boost of confidence – and cockiness, he must admit, at his realisation – stepped in closer to her.

"Can I help?"

Julia grabbed a bag and chucked it to his chest with a smile, not looking up from the one she was dealing with.

"Yes, you can."

"My pleasure, Miss Bradbury."

"Ugh. I didn't know that Harry having a girlfriend would make him turn into one of those brothers," Grace said, with a glower in Harry's direction.

Dora – her Uncle Remus' new girlfriend – chuckled, shaking her head; "Just isn't fair, is it, when a girl turns a guy's head?"

"What's that mean? Turn their head?"

"Makes them look. Want to be with them all the time."

"Like you and Uncle Remus."

Dora got a little red, shaking her head; "Well."

"You don't have to pretend. I saw you kissing. I told my mum; she thinks it's cute."

"Does she, now?"

Grace nodded, smilingly, before she went on; "My mummy and daddy used to kiss sometimes, when we were all here together. Not like you and Uncle Remus, though. He kissed differently. Just really quick."

"Oh. Well. Maybe they were just friendly kisses."

"No. He loves her very much," Grace said, with a shake of the head; "He told me so. But I haven't seen him for a long time. Do you think they had a fight?"

Dora was looking between her and her Uncle Remus with a frown, confused by what she was saying. Grace really didn't like that. How people would always look at her like she was crazy whenever she talked. As if what she was saying wasn't the truth.

"Your Daddy? You mean your Uncle Remus?"

Grace looked confused; "No. Mummy and Uncle Remus aren't fighting anymore. But maybe she is with my Daddy. He hasn't been home since last summer. I miss him."

Dora looked even more confused, now, and Grace guessed she wasn't going to be much help. She didn't seem to really know very much.

So, Grace thought it'd be better to talk about something else; something more fun.

"My mummy said there's going to be games. Can you help me get one?"

"Sure."

Dora nodded, following Grace up the stairs, eyes glancing back at her Uncle Remus as she did so.

"That food is for the guests, Black!"

"Aren't I a guest?" Regulus asked, grinning through a mouthful of the pastry he had pinched.

"I think 'pest' is the more appropriate turn of phrase right now," Julia said, shooing him – but she was grinning widely, as she did, the two of them having been flirting shamelessly with one another the entire time they'd been working back here – and she snatched up the tray he was nicking from; "You're eating everything before I can even get them on the plates."

"Well, how can I possibly resist, when the chef, herself, is so irresistible, hm?" Regulus wiggled his eyebrows, lifting a mini pastry from the other tray, that was still hanging out the oven, and he held it up to her lips; "Here. Don't deny yourself the pleasure, Miss Bradbury."

Julia hesitated, eyeing it where it was - mere millimetres from the lips that had been tempting him so very much - and she met his eyes, raising an eyebrow.

He bowed his head, holding up his free hand, as if in surrender.

"Ah. My bad."

Regulus' grin widened, even if he should have been cowed by her look, and he popped the pastry into his own mouth instead, leaning his face closer to hers; "Do forgive me for trying to feed you. Your lips are just far too enticing."

"Oh," Julia covered her face with her hands – to hide her blush or her smile, he didn't know, but he loved it – and she dropped her hands, shaking her head; "What are you doing?"

"What are you doing," Regulus laughed, shaking his head; "You are doing it right back."

"We shouldn't be doing this."

"Oh, we've always done this," Regulus waved a hand, before plucking up another pastry and popping it into his mouth; "You knew we'd do this."

Julia rolled her eyes, before meeting his and giving him a smile – less playful, more sincere this time; "Maybe I did."

"Aha!" Regulus pointed at her, triumphantly; "Then you admit it. You delayed your departure in order to see me one last time."

"Alright," Julia shrugged, smiling right back at him; "Yes. I did. I wanted to say goodbye. Maybe I even missed you."

She rolled her eyes as she said it, as if to dim the sentiment, but her eyes told him it was the truth.

"Perish the thought. Have Lily give you the address. I'm always happy to see you."

Julia's playful demeanour dropped then and she frowned, shaking her head – cowed, herself, it seemed, by his invitation – and speaking sincerely.

"No. Regulus…" she sighed, turning away and gathering up handfuls of the pastries from the tray to put on the plates; "I wouldn't do that."

"Miss Bradbury, I would not be offended," Regulus reassured her, putting a hand upon his chest – still keeping up his side of the act – when he added; "On the contrary, I am more than happy for you to use me to drive away any particularly lonely nights –"

Julia met his eyes sharply, a smile playing on her lips.

" – it's not like we haven't before."

"I think that's a very slippery slope, Regulus."

"Hm, I suppose it would be," Regulus nodded; "For two people as madly in love as we."

Regulus could tell by the way the playfulness – the twinkle – in her eyes dimmed at his statement, that what he'd said was too far of a push.

But she didn't look away. She didn't hide from it. That it had hurt. And this time, he was suitably cowed by the look she gave him.

It hadn't been a joke. Them.

It had been one of the very few things real that he'd actually had.

He swallowed, lowering his eyes.

But he met hers again – made himself – when he spoke, quietly this time.

"I've missed you too, Julia."

She looked surprised at his sudden earnestness.

He held her look, so that she'd know he meant it – Merlin, he meant it – and she gave him a small, sad smile, then, at what had been lost.

Regulus shook his head, not allowing this opportunity to turn into that and he smiled again, leaning closer to her.

"And in that spirit; for now, let us celebrate time spent together, today –" he waved a dismissive hand " –and forget about tomorrow."

"Yeah, we tried that, Black."

"Well, in this case there is a very distinct time limit," Regulus said, tapping her on nose with his finger and making her smile; "For tomorrow, you shall be flying off to pastures new and you and I will be a thing of distant – most fond - memory. And I say that, if fate should have seen to it that we get to spend one more day together – why then, Miss Bradbury – I am more than happy to take advantage of that."

"Is that right?" Julia eyed him, smiling back at him again, fully now. Quite obviously tempted by the offer.

"Oh," Regulus nodded, leaning closer so their noses were almost touching; "It is more than right."

He lifted a strawberry then, from one of the plates – something they'd always done before – and held it to her lips.

Julia held his look and he raised an eyebrow – daring her to resist – and she didn't. Wouldn't. They never did, whenever they were put into a room together. Even now, it seemed, after all that had happened.

And she opened her mouth, for him to pop the strawberry in, and when he did she caught his fingertips with her tongue – purposefully, he knew, to tease – and his, and her, eyes darkened with want – no one had ever made him want in quite the same way as Julia Bradbury – as he shook his head with a fond smile.

"Oh, you little vixen."

She chuckled, giving him a nod, and then she handed him another plate.

"Fill the plate, not your stomach, Black."

"Alright, we need teams!" his mum announced, when Grace and Tonks had reappeared with one of the wizarding charades games from upstairs a little while later.

"How about the Slytherins versus the Gryffindors?" Ron suggested, as Julia and Mr. Black came in from the kitchen, finishing up putting out the plates of food on the coffee table.

"Aw, come on," Tonks held up her hands in exaggerated offence; "There's more than two Houses in case people have forgotten."

"You can be an honorary Slytherin for the day, little cousin," Mr. Black said, with a grin, as he took a seat on the love seat at the fireplace; "I fear we're more than a little outnumbered, otherwise."

"What about Julia," Harry pointed out, mischievously, for everyone in the room had noticed the shameless flirting that had been going on between the two of them; "She didn't go to Hogwarts."

"Yeah, where does that leave me?" Julia raised an eyebrow, with a shrug, and a smile in Harry's direction.

Mr. Black leaned forward where he sat behind her, hooking his fingers into the back of her trousers and tugging so she fell back into the seat beside him.

"You just sit right here next to me, Miss Bradbury."

"Alright, five and five," his mum said, with a smile; "Perfect."

"Wait, what about me?" Grace looked offended at having been excluded.

"Pick one, Grace," Harry said, taking a seat on the couch next to Hermione; "Slytherin or Gryffindor."

Grace glanced between the two teams that were assembling, and then lifted her eyes thoughtfully, before she announced.

"Slytherin."

"Ooooh!" the Gryffindor team expressed their disapproval with mock offence and thumbs down.

Grace giggled, enjoying the attention, and bounded over into Mr. Black's lap.

"Why Slytherin, Grace?" Malachi asked her with a smile, where he was sat beside him.

"My daddy's a Slytherin," Grace said, innocently, to the confusion of several – not in the know – in the room, who looked between Remus and Grace with a frown.

Mr. Black cleared his throat, adjusting her where he sat, meeting Tonks eyes when he did. She raised an eyebrow and he scoffed, shaking his head; "Don't look at me."

"Alright," his mum interrupted, looking more than a little uncomfortable at Grace's announcement; "So, we all know the rules. Birthday boy's first."

She held out the card to Harry and he grinned, getting up to take it.

The day carried on in much the same way, the jokes and the laughter and the playfulness and it was nice, even if Harry didn't really get the chance to talk to Daphne that much – not that he cared about that, he reminded himself, he spoke to her just as much as he did Hermione and Ron and Malachi, after all – and the mood was playful, jovial, by the time dinner rolled around and everyone stayed a little longer than planned and ended up in the garden as day turned to dusk.

"Push me higher, Uncle Remus!" Grace laughed, from where she was with Remus and Tonks down at the further end where the swing and the sandpit was.

It was nice – if still a bit bewildering – to see Remus happy and with someone, particularly now that they were doing so, so openly.

Ron and Hermione were bickering where they sat on the grass, while Harry, Daphne and Malachi sat a little bit further away, leaving them too it. But they didn't need to, not really, as, while Ron had been pretty vocal in his objections to Harry inviting along another Slytherin, he'd seemed willing enough to grudgingly accept her presence, having heard all about how Daphne had stood up for Malachi at the end of term.

She obviously fancied Malachi, Ron had said, and Harry felt silly at how much he hated that thought – a little surge of jealousy rising up within him at the statement – but he knew that Malachi didn't feel the same.

Not that it mattered, he reminded himself.

"This is amazing, Malachi," Daphne said, with an excited grin, as she read the new piece he'd written; "It'll be going out this week. Want me to get a copy sent to the Foundation?"

"No," Malachi said, immediately, his eyes going in his dad's direction; "No, I'll just find it somewhere."

Harry smirked, when he followed Malachi's gaze to where Mr. Black and Julia were sitting on the bench at the furthest end of the garden, alone and extremely close, as they giggled and spoke into to one another's ears.

"Think I should tell your dad my room's free if he needs it?"

Malachi shook his head in disapproval.

"He's just gonna get hurt."

"She obviously really likes him," Daphne said, looking in their direction.

"Doesn't matter," Malachi said with a shrug; "They can't do anything about it, so."

"I thought you liked Julia," Harry frowned.

"I do," Malachi conceded; "But I love my dad more. And…I just don't think he could deal with another disaster right now."

"Hey, Sweetie," Harry's mum appeared, over his shoulder; "I was thinking, does Malachi want to spend the night?"

Obviously, she'd noticed them, too.

"Yes, he does," Harry agreed, instantly, delighted with the plan – he'd been bored at home, long enough, and he had no wish for the fun they'd been having to end any time soon – and his mum smiled, heading on her way.

Malachi looked after his mum and then back in his dad's direction; "I don't know. Maybe I should go home…"

"Come on, she leaves tomorrow," Harry pointed out; "Let them say bye."

Malachi sighed, watching them, appraisingly, and he seemed to warm a little at the brightness in his dad's smile when he laughed, suddenly, captivated by whatever Julia had said to him.

And he looked back at Harry, getting a smile, and nodded.

"Yeah. Alright. I'll stay."

"So, how'd you enjoy the party, Miss Greengrass?" Regulus asked, feeling a little less awkward around the girl now that he'd seen how comfortably she'd sat with Harry and his son at the party.

Or maybe it was just that he was now, unexpectedly, in an extremely good mood.

The girl, Daphne, got a little smile; "Not as much as you did, Sir."

Regulus' lips twitched, eyeing her, as they made their way down the corridor to the entrance lobby of the Foundation.

"You have a bit of cheek about you. I can see why my son likes you."

"I like him too," she said, and Regulus could tell that she was sincere; "He's got a cheek about him as well. He's just a bit more Slytherin about it."

Regulus laughed then.

"Believe me I know," his eyes caught sight of Elijah Greengrass up ahead. He stopped where he was, having no wish to ruin what had turned out to be a rather delightful day and gave a polite nod to Daphne, who had stopped when he did.

"Well. I believe that's your father. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Greengrass."

He found it wasn't, exactly, a lie, anymore; and he was glad, at least, that if his son were to fall in with the Slytherins – and he needed some to have his back in that House – that it was one like this, who so obviously wasn't going to be joining the ranks anytime soon, nor ever.

Not if Elijah Greengrass were still the same pompous – he pushed that thought away, determined to hold onto his good mood, this night.

"Thank you for bringing me, Mr. Black," Daphne smiled at him, before she headed off to join her father.

"Any time, Sweetheart," Regulus said, with a smile, before he indicated to security that Elijah Greengrass could now be struck from the admittance list – once was the exception – and he headed back in the direction of his office that they'd flooed in from, determined to get back to the party – and a certain Miss Bradbury – as soon as he could.

Fate, it seemed, did seek to intervene that night, as it happens, and not in the positive way he had joked about. When he stepped into his own office, he quickly noticed Severus through the gap in the adjourning open door in his own.

Regulus hesitated at the fireplace, noticing Severus' less than stellar appearance even from all these meters away, and his friend didn't even seem to have noticed that Regulus had come into his own office at all.

Regulus turned where he stood and headed towards him.

"The Foundation to be graced with your presence tonight, is it?"

Severus met his eyes as he stepped across the threshold.

Good grief.

He did look horrendous.

But Severus gave him a nod, neither acknowledging the fact that Malfoy Manor was – quite possibly – hell on Earth at the moment and Regulus took one of the seats opposite.

"Lily has informed me of your quest."

"Oh? And what do you think of it?"

Severus did his very best not to scowl.

"You know what I think of it."

"Has there been any movement on –"

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter," Severus called, as Regulus turned to look.

The person who knocked came in and Regulus smiled.

"Cissy."

She didn't look as bad as Severus did, no, but she certainly did not look unaffected. Both of them in there - the Dark Lord's lair - day in, day out. Seeing things Regulus could not bear to remember.

Narcissa closed the door behind her, raising an eyebrow; "Conspiring?"

Severus immediately looked uneasy, for he was far less open about discussing anything – particularly conspiracies – while in the presence of anyone, much less his cousin.

"Boys night in," Regulus smirked; "Feel free to join us. I could do with both your input on the Reopening Gala this weekend."

Both of them looked unenthused at the reminder.

Narcissa got a tight smile, as she approached; "I just wanted to have a quick word, Severus."

"Something that could not be discussed at the Manor?" Severus asked, guardedly.

"The Dark Lord would not approve."

She did not sit, just stood behind the free chair beside Regulus.

"If it is something of which the Dark Lord would not approve, then you ought not to speak of it," Severus said swiftly and Regulus, being her cousin, immediately caught the little glint that Narcissa got at the abruptness.

"It is about Draco," she said, undeterred; "You're aware, I presume, of the task that has been bestowed upon him."

She said bestowed as if it were something most unpleasant, indeed.

"Indeed. I know of it."

Regulus didn't. And neither seemed inclined to bring him into the circle of secrecy.

"It is a punishment; a trap," Narcissa went on; "He is trying to lure out his spy. And I, apparently, am in the running."

"That is the Dark Lord's plan, yes. And that spy will not be lured. We are aware of the Dark Lord's ploy in this regard and the last thing I would advise you to do at this moment, Narcissa, would be to deviate from what the Dark Lord expects of you."

"He is going after my son to see how I will react. To see to who I would turn."

"And so, you come to me," Severus leaned back; "I appreciate that."

Regulus eyed the two of them, uneasily, at Severus' sarcasm.

"You're both going to be at the school. I need you to protect him."

"As I would do, all the students in my House."

"You know what I mean, Severus."

"Narcissa –"

"You need to help him. You need to do it."

"What –" Regulus frowned, but his intervention was ignored.

"Narcissa, you are behaving recklessly. It will do no good to your son if the Dark Lord finds you have responded as such –"

"You're a father!" Narcissa snapped, her eyes flashing.

A heavy silence fell upon the three of them in the room.

As if none were willing to move – or breathe – in light of the forbidden statement. The obvious threat.

But Narcissa moved, eventually, first, speaking coldly, without any of the warmth that was always present whenever she and Regulus had their own encounters, her eyes entirely for Severus.

"You will protect my son."

Severus eyed her, coolly, where he sat opposite them.

And then he gave her a single nod.

"Yes, I will."

Narcissa turned and marched from the room, Severus and Regulus watching her go.

The door clicked shut behind her and Regulus swiftly turned back to Severus; baffled by what had just transpired.

"What the hell was that?"

Severus would tell him nothing. No matter how long Regulus lingered.

And, by the time Regulus had given up – on learning what he was sure was something of vast significance – and had gone to the house to gather up an overnight bag for Malachi, it was late.

Very late.

The party would be over.

And Julia would be gone.

He allowed himself to bear the disappointment. But only for a minute or two. He had been lucky to have had the little time that afternoon that they had been granted.

A little bit of lightness and a few hours to forget it all and just be lost in her, once more.

He knocked on the front door to Lily's, not waiting before opening it and heading inside.

The living room was empty, though he could hear the voices of Malachi, Harry and Grace upstairs. He went on through to the kitchen, finding it immaculately clean, as Lily finished up putting away the last of the clean dishes into a cupboard.

Her eyes lit up, seeing him; "Oh, Regulus. You just missed Julia."

Regulus got a little smile, realizing she must have waited behind longer – helped clean up – and he wondered if, maybe, she'd done so, so that they would just happen to run into one another again.

He wondered if he should go follow her to her flat.

Quashed the thought immediately.

"Just dropping off this," Regulus lifted the bag he held a little higher, before putting it down on the back of one of the chairs.

Lily got a little smile and Regulus knew she'd been the one to suggest this, to free him up for the night to go home with a certain someone – he hadn't bothered to hide anything, neither of them had, that day – and he gave her a nod, heading towards the kitchen door to depart.

"See you tomorrow, Regulus."

"Night, Lily."

He stepped out into the night, making his way down the path, and when he did, he noticed her immediately.

Julia.

She was just across the street, seeming to have lingered, her eyes glancing in the direction that she knew he would have come – had he not come to the front of the estate, that is, as he rarely did – and he got a smile.

She had waited.

She seemed to have given up, now, though, as she pulled open her bag and rummaged through. Standing there in the darkness, on the street, carelessly – or, rather, carefree – and taking no notice of anything or anyone that may be around the harm her.

That wasn't her life, Regulus reminded himself, and he found, most of the time, that he was intoxicated by that aspect of her, alone. How unscathed she was by the world.

It was easy to step up behind her, with her taking no notice of his presence until he spoke in her ear; "Where are you spending your last night in England, Miss Bradbury?"

Julia paused in her movements and Regulus could see a smile play on her lips, as she considered his words. After a moment, she met his eyes over her shoulder; "You tell me."

Regulus hesitated then.

The recent encounter with Severus and Narcissa a most unpleasant, stark reminder of why he'd pushed Julia away in the first place.

He shouldn't have done this.

Already, he could feel three months of hard-worked-for recovery from his quite-broken heart being thrown to the wind.

He drew in a breath, back-pedalling, because this wasn't fair. Not to either of them. And he gave her a sheepish smile; "We probably shouldn't."

Julia raised an eyebrow, entirely without malice and with an adorable little smile that tugged at her lips.

"Well. Never thought I'd see the day," she chuckled, zipping up her bag; "Alright, suit yourself."

She slung the strap of it over her shoulder, preparing to leave, before she met his eyes; her own full of warmth and affection when she did.

Regulus looked back at her.

He just loved her. He loved her.

He could admit it to himself, now. Now that she was going. Walking out of his life - to safety – just as she should.

Julia gave him a smile – it wasn't the playful, cheeky smile that she often gave when they played and they flirted with one another – no, this was warm and genuine and, Merlin, she was just…everything.

"Take care of yourself, Regulus," she said, quietly, meaningfully – so much love in her tone, when she said it – before she stepped towards him and pressed her lips to his cheek.

It was, quite literally, torture. Every nerve in his body came alive at her proximity; everything about her was familiar and right; her scent, her warmth, the feel of her lips and – when she drew back – the little spark of heat in her eyes, before she slowly turned and began to walk away.

To walk away from him, forever.

He couldn't stop himself. An ache, a yearning deep within him took hold, making him lose his senses, just for a moment. Long enough for him to catch her hand and say her name.

"Julia."

Julia stopped.

Time stood still with them.

Suspended in this moment.

He tugged.

The slightest pull on her hand and she turned back. Closed the distance between them and took him by the nape of the neck and claimed his lips with hers, no chance of hesitation or rationalisation.

And, of course, he surrendered, as he always did. He could do nothing else. He could never do anything else but surrender and belong to her, so long as she'd have him.

He loved her.

For one more night.

Just one more night.