Hello everyone!

I'm here and updating, never fear ;)

Thank you to Ella, One Smart Waffle, Mirka, Nik1804, Cae-Leigh Anne, Teddy0407, lizyeh2000, and VidereLux for commenting. Your reviews really mean a lot!

To Mirka, since I can't PM my reply, thank you for such a heartfelt, in-depth review. Your English is very good, don't worry, and I'm glad you enjoy the romance, since it's what I initially had trouble with. Thanks for also commenting on James and Rabastan. We'll learn in the later chapters why Rabastan gets so close to Voldemort, and it'll make perfect sense when he does (hopefully). I look forward to your future comments!

And as always, last but never least, thank you so much to VidereLux, who beta'd my fic in the shortest of times (I literally finished this last night, sent it to her, went to bed and the corrections were done in the morning). You make the fic so much better!

'I still can't believe that your mother actually allowed me to sleep in here,' Emma said, shaking her head.

At dinner the previous evening, Walburga had mentioned that she hadn't bothered to make up the guest room, since Regulus and Emma were due to be married anyway. Kreacher's eyes had near bulged out of his head at the announcement.

'Well, it's all very proper now, isn't it?' Regulus said, smoothing his bed covers so there were no creases. 'She probably noticed you sneaking in here all Christmas holidays, anyway.'

Emma flushed scarlet and threw herself on the newly made sheets.

'Hey!' Regulus exclaimed indignantly.

Emma smirked and sat up in a cross-legged position, smoothing out the creases in front of her so that Regulus could lay the sheets of parchment on top.

'Better?' she asked.

'Much,' Regulus replied, calling Kreacher.

'Master Regulus calls Kreacher?' the house-elf asked, scraping the floor with his nose.

'Has my mother gone out for the day?' Regulus asked.

'Mistress is shopping with Mistress Druella, Master,' Kreacher replied.

'Good. Would you mind making a roast for lunch? The Hogwarts elves can't quite make it like you, and I can't wait for Sunday.'

'Of course, Master Regulus, Kreacher is happy to serve.'

The house-elf disappeared with a pop.

Emma looked at Regulus in confusion.

'He takes about three hours to prepare the roast,' he explained, correctly interpreting her expression.

'So I'm guessing you have a plan,' Emma said, picking up the nearest roll of parchment and reading aloud. 'Tom Marvolo Riddle, Award for Special Services to the school.' She put the paper down. 'Who's Tom Riddle?'

'I believe he is our Dark Lord.'

Emma stared at Regulus, but his face betrayed no emotion. If it were anyone else, she would ask if they were joking. But this was Regulus. He wouldn't joke about the Dark Lord.

'Riddle's not a pureblood name,' she said eventually, trying to process the information.

'Imagine my mother's shame if she found out half of her family was following a half blood.' Regulus quipped drily.

'How do you know he's a half blood? And how do you know he's the Dark Lord?' Emma voiced only a few of the questions whirring in her mind.

'The…A friend mentioned him just as we were leaving Hogwarts,' Regulus replied evasively. 'She let slip that he was the last student she knew to speak Parseltongue.'

Emma raised her eyebrows.

'She?' she asked. 'As far as I know, your only female friend is Lucinda - maybe Cassie, but that's pushing it. And unless I'm mistaken, neither of them know the Dark Lord that intimately.'

'If you're questioning my source, know that she is highly reliable,' Regulus started hotly, before realising that the knowledge wasn't what his girlfriend was putting into question. 'I wasn't stupid enough to mention anything to Bellatrix, if that's what you're worried about. My friend has been dead for a long time now.'

'So she's a ghost,' Emma deduced.

'And that's all I'll say on the matter,' Regulus replied firmly.

Emma knew better than to press him.

'Moving on,' Regulus continued, taking the parchment from Emma's hand and putting it back on the bed. 'Whether Riddle was a pureblood, a halfblood or a mudblood is of little consequence. We would want to stop him no matter his blood type. Whether he's a hypocrite or not means nothing to me.'

'Nor me,' Emma hurriedly added, thinking of how the Dark Lord had deceived her about Lily Evans. 'We're here to stop killings, not to meddle more in blood-related affairs.'

'Exactly,' Regulus agreed. 'Anyway, what interests me more is where he went every summer after Hogwarts. I figure that we should start at the beginning. Though I doubt he'd have made a horcrux there, we can't leave anything to chance.'

'Right,' Emma replied, hesitating a moment before she asked. 'And where did he go every summer?'

'Wool's Orphanage. Right here in London.'

'And you know this...'

'Because Professor Binns will give you access to any records if you ask him nicely. Add that to Professor Slughorn's free pass, and I could get to any document in the Restricted Section, no questions asked.'

Emma was impressed. Whilst she had been catching up with her coursework and making up for lost time in her studies, Regulus had found out everything there was to glean about the Dark Lord from Hogwarts - with no outside help.

'I'm sorry-' she started, before she was cut off.

'It would have looked suspicious if you were off looking at records,' Regulus interrupted. 'No one can suspect us. No one. Not Rabastan, not Lucinda and especially not your brother until we have concrete evidence. I don't want the Dark Lord even suspecting us of not being a hundred percent with him. We don't have the mental capacity to resist him if he probed our minds as sharply as he could. Trust me.'

A haunted look came into Regulus's eyes, and Emma was reminded that the Dark Lord had looked into his mind whilst she had been unconscious. She reached for him, but he brushed her away.

'Besides, you can help now,' Regulus said. 'We've got about two weeks before the N.E.W.T. results come in and we get our next orders. That's two weeks to find the Dark Lord's horcrux whilst still participating in raids - and not to be forgotten, two weeks of my mother's wedding plans.'

This last sentence was spoken with a shudder, as though it were far more threatening than anything else said that morning. Emma wondered how bad Walburga could truly be.

'So we need to go to Wool's Orphanage,' she prompted, avoiding the topic of Regulus's mother.

'Yes,' Regulus replied. 'I was thinking that we could pose as relatives of Tom Riddle to try to get more information about him, find out as much as possible.'

'But you don't think he made a horcrux...' Emma trailed off uncertainly.

Regulus said nothing, his face grim.

'Well then,' Emma replied, gulping. 'We'll need to make sure they talk to us.'

'The easiest way would be a Confundus Charm,' Regulus said immediately. 'But we don't want to draw attention to magic being used there.'

'Ouch,' Emma complained, wincing as she put her hand to her stomach.

'I knew this was a bad idea,' Regulus muttered, looking at his fiancé worriedly. 'What if-'

'Shh,' Emma replied, cutting him off with a hand to his lips. 'We're almost there. It'll be worth it if it works. Now do you want to do the talking, or should I?'

Regulus looked at her.

'I guess I will, then,' Emma pushed at the iron gate with a grunt.

'Wait,' Regulus said, catching up to her and placing a hand on her back. 'If this is going to be believable, then I should probably do that.'

'Oh, you're probably right.'

Emma relinquished her hold on the gate, letting Regulus put his weight against it as she watched. As they reached the old wooden door to Wool's Orphanage, she tugged on her dress, smoothing it over her protruding stomach.

'I feel like I have a bruise,' she complained again, prodding the belly and wincing a second time.

Regulus slapped her hand away.

'Then stop doing that! Honestly, you're the one who thought of a Swelling Solution...'

'I didn't think it would be painful!' Emma retorted.

Regulus rolled his eyes and rang the doorbell, giving her one last warning look.

'And-I'm-worried-my-dress-is-going-to-stay-four-sizes-too-big,' Emma said in one breath, eager to get her last complaint out of her system before the door opened.

She needn't have worried though. It took a full three minutes for someone to open the door, three somewhat awkward minutes, since neither of the Slytherins knew quite what to do. Should Emma put a hand on her round stomach? Should Regulus? Should they make cooing noises? Should they make any noises?

Fortunately, a young woman opened the door before they could rethink their plan, taking one look at Emma's stomach and inviting them in.

'Have a seat,' she said as they arrived at a plain, but serviceable office, with one chair in front of a desk, and another behind it.

As the "pregnant" one, Emma got prerogative over Regulus for the chair. He came to stand next to her, as the woman took the chair opposite.

'I apologise for the chair,' she said. 'I don't get very many couples.' She looked curiously at the way Regulus had a hand around Emma's shoulder, his eyes roaming around the building as if to check for threats. Her eyes fell to the ring on Emma's finger. 'Especially not ones about to be married.'

Emma glanced at Regulus, who merely gripped her arm tighter.

'Well…We're not really here for this,' she gestured at her fake pregnancy. 'Actually, we are, but not in the way you think.' At the woman's confused expression, she continued. 'The thing is, having children of our own made us think about our roots. We want to be able to tell our son or daughter where they came from, what their grandparents were like. We had lost all hope for…Marvolo's father, since he never liked to talk about his past, but-'

'But I was going through the family pictures and found a birth certificate that said he was born right here in Wool's Orphanage,' Regulus interjected, his eyes shining with emotion.

'Well, we can't just go about giving such information lightly...' the young woman looked hesitant.

Emma slowly lowered her eyelids, bringing a hand to her stomach as her mouth turned down at the corners. Regulus's lips quirked to the side briefly, almost unconsciously.

'Even if we have the birth certificate with us?' Emma asked a few moments later, allowing a little hope to colour her voice.

'Well...' the woman hesitated. Regulus withdrew his hand from Emma's shoulder, shifting his weight as if to leave. 'I suppose it wouldn't hurt,' she relented. 'Let me just go and get his file.'

'Wait!' Emma said, half-rising from her chair. 'We didn't really want to look at his file. Just find out what he was like when he was here. Is there anyone we can talk to, a childhood friend, maybe?'

'I better take you to Mrs Cole,' the woman replied, leaving them in her office.

'So, dears, what did you say your names were?'

Regulus and Emma found themselves sitting in a tea shop opposite the orphanage. Mrs Cole had no objection to spending her afternoon talking about her earlier charges, especially when the promise of free tea and biscuits was involved.

'My name's Em…Emily,' Emma stuttered for a second, thinking it was safer to give a false name. 'This is Marvolo, my fiancé.'

The old woman's teacup paused on the way to her lips. Her fingers shook for the slightest of moments before she placed it back on its saucer, a haunted look coming into her eyes.

Well, if nothing else, I think it's safe to say we got the right person, Emma thought, observing the former matron's reaction.

'Any relation to Tom Marvolo Riddle, perchance?' Mrs Cole's voice quavered for only a second before it regained its strength.

'Why yes,' Emma replied helpfully, acting surprised. 'He's who we've come to talk to you about.'

'He's my father,' Regulus added in a low voice, staring intently at the old woman.

'I suppose it would have been too much to expect you to inquire about Billy Stubbs,' Mrs Cole sighed. She squinted at Regulus, peering for a better look. 'Though now you mention it…yes…yes I see the similarities. The dark, dark hair, the proud look, the charming eyes. I don't know how I missed it.'

Regulus and Emma glanced at each other, unsure as how to greet that particular piece of information.

I suppose it's not entirely implausible, Emma thought. The Blacks are bound to have intermarried with Slytherin's descendants, if the Dark Lord is to be believed. And the Dark Lord was handsome, once.

'Tom Riddle,' the old woman sighed again, taking a sip of her tea and leaning back in her chair. 'If there was anyone I were to remember from my time as a matron, it would be him.'

'Why is that?' Emma asked, leaning forwards before she remembered she was supposed to be pregnant. She put a hand under her belly for effect - the swelling might hurt, but it wasn't as heavy as a baby probably was.

'He was…different. Special, he used to say.' Mrs Cole finished her tea. Regulus quickly poured her another cup. 'I'm not surprised he gave you his middle name,' she added, nodding towards Regulus. 'He didn't enjoy being given the common name of "Tom".'

She paused. Sensing that a comment was needed, Regulus nodded.

'That makes sense,' he invented. 'Mum never used to call him Tom, now that I think about it.'

Mrs Cole seemed satisfied. She ate a fairy cake as she continued, getting into her stride.

'He was very polite, for the duration of his stay. And very quiet, for the most part. He never cried, as a boy.' The old lady swirled her cup, as though unsure as to how to continue. 'He got accepted to a mighty nice boarding school when he was eleven. The headmaster said his mum had put him down on a list since before he was born, but his mum was from the circus. When she came to us, she wasn't in a state to be making any sort of plans. But Tom seemed to like it there, and the other kids were happy to see him gone, so...'

'Why were the others happy to see him go?' Emma asked curiously.

'Oh, you know.' Mrs Cole waved her hand dismissively. 'More room in the orphanage, one less mouth to feed.'

At this, she gave Regulus a scrutinizing stare, but didn't expand upon the matter.

'Do you have any stories to tell us?' Emma asked after the silence drew on. 'He was always very quiet about his past.'

'I always thought it was because of the war,' Regulus added quietly.

The war? Emma thought, frowning. Surely this Muggle woman doesn't know about Grindelwald? Though I guess it might have spilled over into their world.

Mrs Cole looked about, as though searching for something to trigger her memory.

'He enjoyed collecting things,' she said eventually. 'He liked to have things that meant something, that had a history to them.'

'Like stamps?' Emma wondered. That didn't sound much like the Dark Lord.

'Like prizes,' Mrs Cole corrected. She hesitated, before continuing. 'Trinkets, that were rare and had a special meaning. A marble that he had won off the reigning champion at the time, for example.'

The horcrux, Emma thought immediately. She looked to Regulus, whose face had grown - if possible - even stiller. They chatted for a little while, about the orphanage in general, as well as Regulus and Emma's made up past, and made up child. They had both come up short when Mrs Cole asked them if they had thought of a name, but luckily she had brushed it off as natural.

'Well, thank you very much for your time,' Regulus said eventually. 'But we must be going. Emily would never say so, but she gets tired easily ever since the baby's started kicking.'

Emma was surprised, but went along with it, schooling her features into a grimace.

'I can tell the little one's going to be a nightmare,' she joked.

'I'll pay,' Regulus said quickly. He and Emma had calculated the required amount in advance, so that it wouldn't seem too suspicious if he gave them a random amount of paper notes.

Emma pulled on her cardigan and was about to wait for Regulus outside, when a hand shot out and grasped her arm.

'Be careful with that one, girl,' Mrs Cole said quickly. 'Make sure he treats you right.'

'What do you mean?' Emma frowned angrily. 'Why would you say such a thing?'

'His father was a charmer, and a looker just like your man there,' Mrs Cole lowered her voice, looking over Emma's shoulder towards Regulus. Satisfied, she met Emma's eyes. 'Tom scared the other children. Nothing we could prove, but…bad things happened around him. I wouldn't want you and the baby to get hurt.'

'What kind of bad things?' Emma asked, but Mrs Cole just shook her head.

'Very bad things. The prizes he took - they weren't prizes he had won. They were trophies from his victims.'