Chapter Ninety-Six

Regulus signed off the bottom of the parchment – adding a little PS. note with a small smile, despite what this was – before he folded the short letter in two – having written all that needed to be said, anything more than that just rambling things that Julia already knew – and then he wrote her name across the front of it.

Regulus lifted his wand and charmed it with the same enchantment that he had done with Malachi's letter, some years before, when he'd written those final words to his son.

He pulled open the drawer of the bureau – seeing Malachi's letter where it still lay hidden beneath some parchment – and tucked Julia's in behind it, along with the one he'd written to his new – as yet, nameless – son who would never know him.

Regulus' fingertips lingered upon them; the letters that would be delivered, tomorrow, assuming Severus' plan worked.

And then his eyes went to his wife where she still lay, soundly, upon the bed behind him, having not yet woken.

A coo and a little cry sounded, from the bassinet that Regulus had set up beside her, summoning his father.

Regulus chuckled, closing the drawer of the bureau and headed over, immediately met with the wide, curious eyes of their newborn.

"Hey, Little Sprout," Regulus greeted him, before he reached down, and lifted him up into his arms.

"I mean…you'd do it too, right?"

Malachi stared back at Harry.

"Um…"

Sure, Malachi liked to think he'd do it – though, most likely, he'd just die from fright before Voldemort could get anywhere near him – but that didn't make it any better, hearing that Harry was going to actually die.

Malachi fought back the urge to protest – to ask why their parents weren't actually doing something about this – but he could tell, just by looking at Harry, now, that it'd be the wrong thing to say.

Malachi gave a slight shrug, as close to an agreement as he could, before drawing in a breath; "When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow," Harry said, calmly, as if he were just heading off to run some silly errands or something; "Dunno why we can't just do it now but..."

"Oh."

Malachi knew he wasn't being helpful.

He just had no idea what to say.

Malachi scrambled for something – anything – that might make this a tiny bit better – a little bit okay – but he knew that he couldn't.

He knew that, from tomorrow, life was going to be –

Malachi pushed that thought aside, remembering his dad's words – what he'd always taught him – to live for now, not for the future, and reached for something else instead.

"My dad got a boat when he bought this place, mind," Malachi told him, before nodding at the window of his room that looked out over the lake; "For us, so he could take us fishing. I could ask him to. Before you go?"

Harry glanced to the side, out the window – a longing look in his eyes, then, as was reminded of his own dad – before back at Malachi, speaking softly; "You wouldn't mind?"

Malachi tried to smile – but it struggled to come, not really convincing when it eventually did, being reminded of Emma, especially after what Harry had just told him – and he shook his head; "Nah."

Harry smiled – just as sadly as Malachi knew his was – before he nodded; "Yeah. Let's go fishing. But – um – first I've gotta help Grace with something."

Malachi hesitated, knowing – wanting – to hug him, but he could tell Harry – like him – was barely holding it together as it was, so he didn't – he'd wait until tomorrow – and nodded, before the two of them headed out of his bedroom.

Harry went to the stairs, heading down, while Malachi lingered, watching him leave, before he went to the threshold of his dad and Julia's room.

Julia remained unconscious upon the bed, despite all the potions and spells Severus had been working on her with the day before.

But she looked better – her breathing stronger and her skin pinker and there was none of that horrible blueness about her lips and her eyes, anymore – and his dad and Severus both seemed convinced that she was going to be fine.

Evident, by his dad's gradually improving mood.

Malachi smiled, when his eyes went to his dad, who was sat in the chair by the window with the baby lying on his knees – awake – while his dad spoke in a hushed, animated voice to him, a quiet sing-song of a tune coming, after a moment, as his dad playfully patted up his chest to his chin with a finger.

Malachi stepped into the room, making his way over, and his dad stopped humming and looked up at his footsteps; smiling as soon as he saw it was him.

"Aha, look here, Son. If it isn't your big brother."

Malachi smiled, while his dad flicked his wand, transfiguring the table in front of the window into a chair, and Malachi sat down upon it, facing him.

His eyes went to the baby – his brother – his smile warming even more when he looked at him.

"Did you and Julia pick a name? Before?"

"Marceline."

Malachi chuckled, while his dad nodded, grinning as he glanced back down at the baby.

"I was entirely convinced you were getting a sister."

"You disappointed?"

His dad shot him a look.

"No," he said, before stroking the baby's cheek with a finger; "No. I could never be disappointed. Not in either of you."

Malachi smiled, rolling his eyes; "So, he's just gonna stay 'Little Sprout', then?"

His dad lifted the baby up, cradling him to his chest, as he leaned back in the chair, "Well, did his big brother happen to have a suggestion?"

Malachi grinned, shrugging.

"Maybe."

His dad raised his eyebrows, a smile playing on his lips, before lifting his chin, indicating he go on.

"Um…"

"Um?"

Malachi shrugged, chuckling a bit; "Nicholas."

His dad didn't look entirely convinced, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Nicholas? Like Flamel?" his dad grinned, then, before leaning forward towards him, while still cradling his brother close; "Now, Son, is immortality really something we ought to aspire to?"

Malachi rolled his eyes, before leaning forward, himself, going nose to nose with his dad.

"It means Victory of the People."

His dad stared back at him, his grin fading, so that it became just the ghost of a smile, as he looked back at him, consideringly.

"Huh," his dad finally said, before lowering the baby in his arms slightly to look at him. His dad's smile turned cheeky, then, as he spoke to him; "Well. That is almost as heavy a burden to bear as immortality."

The baby cooed, wiggling a little in his dad's hands.

His dad chuckled, nodding – "Nicholas"– before he pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead, whispering against it; "Pending Mummy's approval."

His dad carefully got to his feet, smiling at Malachi and giving a nod.

Malachi straightened up, eagerly, and his dad carefully placed his brother into his arms.

Malachi looked down at him – amazed at how he didn't seem to weigh anything at all – before he looked up at his dad, nervously.

"Am I doing it right?"

His dad smiled, nodding slowly – looking fond and proud and sure – before he said, as he gazed at the two of them; "Perfect."

His dad leaned down, pressing a kiss to Malachi's forehead, before he stepped away and headed from the room.

Lily could scarcely hold back her disbelief at what Severus was telling her.

"Eugene Hopkins! I can't believe you're actually going along with this. What if it doesn't work – what if Dumbledore was wrong and Harry actually – what if it does work? Did the two of you even think about what I'm supposed to tell Julia when she wakes up? Or Malachi?"

"Do you think I want this, Lily?"

She stared back at Severus – the edge taken, somewhat, off of her outburst by the look in his eyes – before he went on.

"He's my brother."

Lily released a breath, her eyes closing, when she realized, then, what Severus must be going through – and she tried not to think, with a sting, about Harry's accusations a few days before – before she met his eyes.

"And Harry? He'll lose his magic. We'd be taking it from him."

Severus reached out, a hand squeezing her shoulder.

"Better than his life. He will live, Lily. That is what matters. That he will live and see the end of this war. Dumbledore's plan will work."

Before she could say anything further – to protest, because that was certainly something to be debated – Regulus stepped into the room, giving them a nod – the three of them having arranged that they'd discuss this, once they'd gotten the kids distracted – and Lily reluctantly followed Severus to join Regulus at the table.

She uttered the charm under her breath – 'muffliato' – just incase any of them should decide to eavesdrop, as Severus explained – again – how this absurd plan was supposed to work.

She and Regulus sat at the table, silently, as he ran it all down.

"With the students at Hogwarts returning home, early, today for the summer, we should be able to proceed as planned tomorrow. You've alerted Lupin?"

Lily gave a reluctant nod, conceding that he – along with the other Hogwarts professors – would be expecting them, while Severus carried on.

Lily remained silent, until she could do so, no longer.

"It has to be the Dark Lord. That is the only way that Harry will survive –"

"If he survives at all," Lily bit out; "If Albus is to be believed –"

"You saw how he protected Harry the night Hogwarts fell," Severus said, calmly – reassuringly, even – as if Lily were being unreasonable, but it failed in his intentions; "He would not have him die by the hand of anyone other than the Dark Lord – for, should he fall by his hand – he will live."

"Severus…that's not a chance I'm willing to take –"

"You heard Harry, Lily –"

"I certainly did –"

"If we don't allow him to do this – if we do not guide him into the correct way of doing so – the chances of him being truly lost to us only increases."

Lily shook her head.

"We have been through too much, Severus – we have put him through too much – to even take the chance that he won't survive. And Dumbledore's belief is based on circumstances that have not once – not even once – occurred, in the course of magical history –"

"We could bind the life forces," Regulus suggested, interrupting them, making Severus' eyes darken in annoyance as he turned to him.

"We already discussed this at Christmas, Regulus."

"We did, but what difference does it make now? In order to enact the Ancestral Call, I'd have to die, anyway – willingly – and doing this is as willing as it gets. We already know it would work; the Bonds of Blood charm has been utilized for centuries – protecting a person, rather than just property. It's the obvious strategy," he broke off, before adding, lightly; "Not to mention it beats poison."

Severus looked at Regulus for a moment, consideringly, before meeting Lily's eyes – a question in his gaze when he did – and she drew in a breath – knowing that solution was certainly far more fool-proof than relying on Dumbledore's unproven deductions – before she met Regulus' eyes, inclining her chin, gratefully.

Severus cleared his throat, lifting his eyebrows, not looking at either of them when he went on.

"Then it's settled. The life forces will be bound between Harry and Regulus – enacted through the bonds of blood charm – so that upon the Dark Lord's casting of the Killing Curse, Regulus will take the place of Harry in the afterlife, in a mirror of what happened with his brother –"

Severus recited it, as if he were simply reading it all from a textbook, while Lily met Regulus' eyes, uncertainly.

He gave her a smile – an assurance that he was actually on board with this – before turning his full attention back to Severus.

"Harry will still go before the Dark Lord –"

"Why –"

"Because two chances at survival are better than one," Severus pointed out; "And, with the Dark Lord believing in the moment that Harry rises that he has fallen, Harry will gain the upper hand of surprise – along with the Black Ancestral Magic – which he will need in order to be successful in eliminating him."

Lily pressed a hand to her forehead.

It wasn't the first time she'd heard it – the plan – and, yet, it was still as horrifying now, as it had been then.

"Upon the Dark Lord's arrival, we can expect that he will attempt to eliminate Harry with haste and – with Harry not making any attempt to survive - the Killing Curse will be cast. At which point, Regulus will die –" he said it bluntly, swiftly, a continuing recitation; " – and the Blood Magic will be evoked – the call of the Black Ancestral Magic will be channeled through Regulus, with his sacrifice, and Harry will then have the ability to wield the collective power of the Black Ancestors and he – along with the gathered Order members we have contacted, and our other allies and Hogwarts professors – will eliminate the Dark Lord and any Death Eaters who refuse to denounce him when we do."

Regulus nodded; "Voldemort isn't going to be coming to Hogwarts expecting a full-scale battle. He'll think he's just coming for Harry; he might not even bring them all."

Severus inclined his chin; "So long as he brings himself, that is all that matters."

Lily pressed her fingers to her eyelids – eyes squeezed shut – hating this and was just about to turn to Regulus this time – to mention Julia and his own family – when Malachi's voice called down the stairs; "Dad!"

Regulus got to his feet and headed swiftly to the stairs, disappearing out of sight.

Lily sighed, getting to her feet, and stepped away from the table, going to the counter.

Severus followed.

"Lily."

She drew in a breath, before she turned to face him.

Severus reached up – his stoicism leaving along with Regulus, it seemed – and he looked just as apprehensive as she felt. Which, in all honesty, didn't exactly make her feel any better about all of this and only highlighted the gravity of what was coming their way tomorrow.

"Harry was right, Severus," Lily said, lifting her shoulders; "I've put him through so much – we have put our family through so much – for this war and for a future that we never even really knew we'd be able to give them. It was cruel. I always wondered if it was but…"

She didn't say the rest of it – the thought – that, maybe, they had been wrong and everyone else who'd told them otherwise – Harry, Remus, Sirius, even Severus, himself, in the beginning – had been right.

That the pain and the lies and the deception wouldn't be worth it.

That she'd lose her son for it.

She'd never, of course, believed that would be literal– that Harry would die – always convinced that, so long as her children were safe and happy and alive, that it would be worth it.

That she'd fight for it.

But now, at the end of the road she'd drawn him down, Harry was anything but those things.

And she couldn't – in good faith – say that her son's declaration that it hadn't been worth it was wrong.

Not if he didn't come back to them, tomorrow.

Lily pressed a hand to her eyes, feeling the tears that threatened to fall, when she finally allowed herself to wonder – to doubt – and Severus stepped in closer, his hands going to her arms and his lips pressing to her hair.

"Lily."

They lingered, there, just as they stood. Her leaning on him, plagued with doubt and grief at what was to come and regret for all that had passed.

Knowing that, even if Harry did – as he must – survive what was to happen tomorrow; her son had been long ago lost to her.

Losing him all along, just as Sirius and Remus had warned her she was, and she had been too stubborn to even realize it.

"Daddy!"

They drew apart as Grace ran into the room.

"Can we go outside, you and me? You said you'd show me the plants we use in potions, remember?"

"I was under the impression your brother was going to be entertaining you for the afternoon," Severus said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Grace shrugged; "I think he's sad. Can we go?"

"Where is he?" Lily asked, frowningly.

"Malachi's room. By himself," Grace told them, before heading up and taking Severus by the hand; "Please?"

Severus nodded, before his eyes found Lily's once more, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek, before allowing Grace to pull him from the house.

Lily hesitated a moment before she headed around the counter and into the kitchen, setting about making a sandwich.

A silly excuse to go up – as if she needed one to speak with her own son – particularly considering Regulus' house elf would be more than capable of doing so and would be summoned by Harry if he were actually hungry.

Still, Lily carried on, doing it all the muggle way – turning to the muggle ways of her childhood, of her own mother, always having a way of soothing her – and she headed over to the cupboard, pulling it open, and reached up to tug down the chopping board that was up there, hoping there was enough of the food left that Remus had given them in the cooling unit.

As she drew it down, pulling a little more roughly than necessary, a folded picture fluttered down along with it – as if it had been hidden – that Lily caught in the air.

It was a magical one – the picture moving – and Lily found herself surprised but smiling as she looked at the person within it.

Sirius Black – so very young – lifted his chin at the camera, a twinkle in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips, oozing self-assuredness as he looked back at her.

Lily chuckled, fondly, and shook her head before she reached up – unfolding where it had been folded in half – and – even though it would obviously be him with his arm flung around Sirius' shoulders – Lily was still not entirely prepared to be met with the sight of James' smile.

His laughter lit his features, as it always had, and his eyes sparkled within the frames of his glasses – so alive – where he stood at Sirius' side.

It was almost jarring, just how alike he and their son looked, now that Harry was almost grown – sixteen, in just a couple of months – but, even that, wasn't what startled her.

It was all the memories that came to her in that moment, as she looked upon James' face – reminded of all she'd desperately clung to, in the aftermath of losing him – the reality and the fantasy; spurned on by Harry's accusations the day before.

The unwelcome – unrealized – truths of what her son had endured for her pain.

Lily refolded the picture, tucking it back into the spot she hoped Regulus had hidden it, before she closed the door of the cupboard and – forging her previous task – headed upstairs.

"What's the matter?"

Malachi turned where he stood near the door – his brother still cradled in his arms – when his dad hurried into the room.

"It's Julia – I think she's waking up."

His dad looked at her – seeing her stir, ever-so-slightly – before he made the short distance to the bed, sitting down at her side.

He heard his dad murmur, calling her name, softly, as he stroked her hair, while the baby cooed in Malachi's arms.

He grinned down at him, giving him a gentle bounce in his arms – he could get used to this, easily – and then he glanced up when he heard a hoarse murmur – Julia's voice – speak to his dad.

"There she is," his dad said, with a small smile, when her eyes met his.

Malachi smiled – awash with the same relief he could see on his dad's face – before turning away slightly to give them a bit of privacy, and carried on fussing over his baby brother – tried his best not to think about Harry and all he'd told him earlier – and touched his lips to his forehead, while the hushed murmurs carried on behind him.

"Malachi."

He glanced at them, when his dad called his name, and – when he did – his dad motion that he come over.

He did – walking carefully, because he kept imagining he'd trip or something and drop the baby – and he smiled when he saw the way Julia's eyes eagerly sought the bundle in his arms.

Malachi started to pass him to his dad, but his dad got up, moving aside, so that Malachi could do it; so he sat down in the spot his dad had just stood from to pass the baby over to Julia.

Her eyes glimmered like his dad's had done, when she finally had their son in her arms, and Malachi smiled again.

"He looks like Dad, doesn't he?"

Julia smiled, her eyes all for the baby, as she nodded.

His dad chuckled, then, putting an arm around Malachi's shoulders; "Actually I think he looks far more like his big brother."

"Mhm," Julia nodded, lifting her eyebrows, before she smiled at Malachi; "He's perfect. Spoiled again."

Malachi grinned in turn, getting a little blush, before he felt his dad press a kiss to the top of his head.

The four of them huddled close together.

Harry glanced up from where he was lying on the bed, when he heard the door to Malachi's room click open, only mildly surprised to see his mum.

There was a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes when he looked at her.

"Can I come in?"

Harry nodded, reluctantly pushing himself up so that he was sitting by the time his mum closed the door and headed over to him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside him.

A heavy silence hung over them – as if neither knew what to say – and Harry wondered if he should apologise for what he'd said to her the day before.

But he'd meant it, even if he'd regretted saying it aloud – only really realizing when he did how much all of it still hurt, his mum and his dad and Snape – and it made him falter, not taking any of it back, and, when his mum met his eyes he realized he wasn't going to have to.

"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart."

Harry stared back at her, surprised.

His mum drew in a breath, glancing away for a moment – as if collecting herself – before she went on. Words that Harry could tell weren't coming easy.

"Harry. When we lost your father, I was so…lost," she lifted her shoulders, and her eyes glimmered when she met his; "I was so lost and young and afraid. He and I – with you – had this…dream of a future that we were going to have. And when he was taken from us…I didn't know how to live without him," her eyes lowered, and she added, in a quiet tone that was almost ashamed; "I didn't want to."

Harry swallowed, unsure of what to say.

It was something he could remember. He'd heard the fights – his mum and his Uncle Sirius and Remus – and he'd seen it all. The way his mum fought for his dad, every day, back then.

The same way she fought for Snape now.

"You deserved better than that," his mum went on, more assuredly; "And I am so sorry, Harry."

Harry drew in a breath, before nodding slightly.

Just hearing his mum say it – admit it – even though Harry had known it for a long time made it a tiny bit better. Which was more than he expected he ever would about it.

"But, Harry," his mum tucked her hair behind her ear, leaning forward, so that he had no choice but to look at her; "You once said that you weren't enough for me. I need you to know that that has never been true. You were the reason I got up every morning and you were the reason that I fought so hard and you were the reason that I finally realized I had to let go. I don't want you to ever think that you weren't enough for me – for you to carry something like that – because…I know how that feels. Harry, after we lost your dad…I was so scared that I wasn't ever going to be enough for you. That I wouldn't be able to give you all that your dad and I had pictured for you."

Harry sniffed, only realizing then that a tear had trickled, and he wiped at it, glancing away.

"I know you deserve so much more than what I've given you. I know that this life – now – was built on things that weren't fair to you. I thought we'd have more. I thought I'd be giving you the life I always dreamed of for you – the family I know you so desperately wanted – and I wanted you to have the world. I am so, so sorry about what is happening now. If I could change anything…"

"Then we wouldn't have Grace," Harry pointed out, before lifting his shoulders.

He sighed, swiping at another rogue tear.

"You did give me a family, Mum. You gave me a sister. And…I just wish that I'd be able to be there for the whole thing. That's all."

"I know, Sweetheart."

Harry looked back at her – his mum – and finally, for the first time, he got it.

How she must have felt – the future she'd imagined, that she'd been living with his dad, being snatched from her fingertips – when the war had come for them. His mum and his dad and him.

How it was threatening to do the same, now, when she'd fought so hard to try and find another life worth living, to move on, and give him and Grace that dream.

How the war would do the same when Harry walked away from them tomorrow.

Leaving her with his words of how much she'd hurt him; how he didn't believe it had been worth it at all.

Harry closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Harry whispered, "You deserved the world, too."

His mum broke down then, hanging her head for a second, as her own tears came, before she reached for him.

The two of them hugging one another tight.

Finally, truly, seeing one another for the first time since their world had come crashing down, so many years before.

Harry was still shaken by the encounter with his mum, a few hours later, when he stood before Snape in the basement.

It was nothing like the basement at home – Malachi's one almost entirely empty – save for two chairs that Snape had clearly set up for them, and a workbench in the corner where a cauldron bubbled with some unknown potion.

And a rectangular object - that Harry was quite certain was a portrait - which was covered with a blanket and propped up in the corner of the room.

"I don't understand," Harry lifted his shoulders; "Why can't you just do it? Why does it have to be him?"

"As the creator of the horcrux –"

"See, that's the thing. If I'm his horcrux – keeping him alive – why does he want me dead? Shouldn't he want me alive, so that he can't die?"

"The Dark Lord is unaware of your connection. What happened – as far as we can conclude – was entirely an accident. One that the Dark Lord, himself, remains in ignorance of. And the Dark Lord's ignorance is to our advantage."

"Right," Harry shot him a look; "If he's the only one who can destroy it, last thing we want is for him to change his mind."

Snape returned his look, evenly.

"If you wish to reconsider –"

"I don't."

Harry sighed, glancing away; "I don't. Let's…alright. Let's just get on with it, then. What's the plan?"

"We need to lure the Dark Lord out. You, yourself, may not be a big enough draw – in the past, he has always dispatched his Death Eaters to fetch you – this time, we are going to ensure that he is pursuing something which he is unwilling to leave in the hands of any other."

"What's that?"

"His other horcruxes."

"His other…he has other horcruxes?"

"Indeed. Seven, including yourself."

Harry stared at Snape in shock.

"But…if there's more…how can we –?"

"The other's – with the exception of one – have already been destroyed. Though the Dark Lord is, currently, unaware of the fact. Once again, his ignorance remains our advantage."

"How am I supposed to use them to lure him out if they're already destroyed?"

Snape's lips twitched; "Because you are going to convince him that they are – not only still intact – but that they are also within your very own possession."

"Uh…" Harry frowned in bewilderment; "Again. How am I supposed to do that?"

"Legillimency."

Harry stared back at him, not entirely sure what Snape was suggesting, but he realized enough to guess; "You want me to…send him a message, through our heads?"

"Precisely. Although, the Dark Lord must not be aware you are doing so, intentionally. Which is where this evening's summons comes in. You still remember, I trust, how to utilize the skill?"

"Legillimency?" Harry swallowed – remembering how he'd used it against Mr. Black, with almost ease – and he nodded; "Yeah."

"Good."

Snape leaned back in his chair, looking at Harry, expectantly.

Harry hesitated – but only for a second – when he realized what Snape was asking him to do, before he lifted his wand and met Snape's look, dead-on, speaking the incantation almost in a whisper.

"Legillimens."

It was easy – Snape already having prepared and pushing forward what he wanted Harry to see – and, within a second, Harry was met with the sight of what he knew was Dumbledore's – Snape's – desk, in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

And before him on the desk was the Sword of Gryffindor, along with five other items.

A destroyed, blackened diary that he remembered.

A cracked locket. A broken ring.

A cup. A diadem.

The last two were still intact.

Harry was pushed, gently, from Snape's mind, seeing no more.

Harry frowned, looking back at Snape, when his vision refocused.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"That is the vision that you will be sending to the Dark Lord."

"That's it, then?" Regulus raised his eyebrows at Severus, who stood opposite him in the basement.

Severus inclined his chin; "The life forces are bound – do try not to engage in any risky activities this evening, if you could, there are still some final steps that I have to see to this evening, in preparing to evoke the Ancestral Magic – and Harry is aware of the steps he needs to take tomorrow, for this to be a success."

Severus capped the phial of blood that Regulus had – he'd believed, fruitlessly – taken from Harry earlier that year, when they'd sought to find a way to utilize the blood wards to protect the Foundation.

That – now – just may be enough to protect Harry and, in doing so, finally rid the Wizarding World of Voldemort, once and for all.

Regulus gave a nod; "Well. If that's all you needed me for."

Severus stared at him for a second, before he reached into his robes and pulled out another small vial, holding it out to him.

Regulus took it, eyeing it.

Knowing well enough what it was, without needing to ask.

"Should the binding fail," Severus said, simply.

Regulus nodded, giving Severus a wry smile and holding up the vial – the poison – and nodded; "Much obliged."

Severus lips twitched, humourlessly.

"Likewise, Regulus."

The two of them held one another's gaze for a second – neither of them particularly good at this – before Regulus just nodded, tucking it into his robe and heading from the room.

Back up both flights of stairs to his and Julia's bedroom.

The baby slept soundly – as he often did, thus far, unlike his brother had at that age – and Julia, too, remained sound asleep, despite the relatively early hour.

Still exhausted, the after effects of the curse that Severus said was entirely expected.

Regulus considered, then, going to Malachi – knowing he'd surely be awake in his room – but he felt rattled enough by what had just occurred with Severus – the final steps taken – that he didn't quite trust himself under those curious, clever eyes of his son at that moment.

So, he went to Julia, instead, and lay down beside her on the bed, facing her.

Simply drinking up the sight of his wife asleep beside him; the last night he'd ever be able to do so.

But he couldn't complain.

They'd already stolen so many more nights than he'd ever dreamed they'd have.

Julia stirred, then, her eyes opening and finding his.

She frowned, blearily, as she looked back at him, while Regulus simply gazed at her in turn like the – still – lovestruck fool he was.

"What are you doing?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Regulus tried for a smile.

"Loving you."

Julia's smile faded away as she looked back at him.

Knowing right away that something was wrong.

Regulus nodded, lowering his eyes, before he drew her close; murmured an apology into her hair before he told her, too.

The truth of what this all was; that he'd been telling her from the beginning.

One more night.

"But, I thought I heard Mummy and Daddy say it wasn't safe at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah. Soon it will be."

"But…if you go back does that mean you're not going to be coming home again for a long time?" Grace lifted her head from the grass, where she and Harry were lying outside under the stars, to look at him with a pout; "I like having you here with Mummy and Daddy, all of us at the same time."

Harry gave her a smile – even if the statement stung – and nodded; "I do, too, Grace."

"How long will you be away?"

"Doesn't matter how long, right? Even just one day and I'd be missing you like crazy."

Grace smiled, rolling over and propping her head up in her hand to face him; "I'll miss you, too."

"Hmph. Should hope so."

Grace chuckled.

"If I don't, will you come back and give me a row?"

"Here's hoping, right?"

Grace's eyes gleamed with mischief, a look that Harry would miss so much, would cling to; his little sister who deserved the very best of everything.

She didn't need to have any of it ruined by missing him.

Harry cleared his throat, before he lifted a finger and pointed at the sky above.

"We have an Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts. Whenever I miss you, I'm going to go up there and look at the stars."

"Which one?"

Harry found it above, getting a smaller smile then.

As he realised and thought of those who were going to be waiting on the other side.

His Uncle Sirius.

His dad.

And how he wasn't going to be alone there, either.

"Sirius," Harry told her.

Grace looked up, eyes seeking it.

"You see it? Mr. Black showed us, remember. The brightest star in the sky."

"Yeah," Grace nodded, her smile coming slowly, before she looked thoughtful, too, and then looked back at him; "I'll do it too. When I miss you, I'll look up at Sirius and wish really hard. And, maybe, then it'll bring you home."

Harry's breath trembled as he breathed out, eyes still on the star above.

"Yeah. Maybe he will."