4.

Monsters in the Dark

"A thousand enemies outside the house are better than one within."

-Arab Proverb

Regulus could still remember the last time he saw his brother. He had seen his brother in Hogwarts a few times, of course, but only briefly and he always considered the night Sirius left home to be the last memory of his brother. Because after that, neither one of them considered one another as family.

The fire had been crackling in the Black family home, much like it was now despite it having been summer then. His mother had always been cold and insisted the fireplace stay lit year round. Regulus remembered he had been sitting in the plush recliner watching the glowing embers snap as he listened to his parents yelling at their oldest son.

They had found a stash of Muggle money with a large book on automotive repairs under Sirius' bed that morning. Walburga and Orion Black were less than pleased, though Regulus could hardly remember a time his parents were ever happy with his brother. From Regulus' earliest memory with Sirius, their parents were almost always scolding him for something and once Sirius started school his first year, things simply went down hill from there.

Sirius had always hated his parents and with the heated glances he always gave Regulus, Regulus was sure Sirius hated him just as much. Though Regulus never truly felt any lasting hatred for his brother, even when he was younger, he still couldn't help but pity Sirius.

Regulus had always felt sorry for his older brother. Sirius was misguided and believed in silly things like unity between Muggles and wizards. He enjoyed teaching himself about the Muggle world, and Regulus still recalled catching him with a handful of the Muggle notes, trying to learn how to count back the paper money. Sirius would waste time cutting out photographs of Muggle girls and buying Muggle-made watches when he could be working on something more useful in their own world. Sirius would continue his Muggle adventures over the summer holidays with his friends, only making his parents even more furious with their idiot son.

And now Regulus felt like the idiot. The entire time, Sirius had been right, though Regulus was still trying to get himself comfortable with the idea of Muggleborns and half-breeds. Sirius had always been right. Their parents had been wrong. Voldemort was wrong. Everything he knew growing up was wrong—but Sirius, he always knew. Despite his parents always telling him differently, Sirius never turned his back on his beliefs. He'd rather slam his door and face the fury of his mother and father than think for one solitary second that anything they said was true.

Regulus stared long and hard at the Black family tapestry, remembering the night his mother blasted Sirius off the family tree. He had watched her do it, right after he watched his brother walk out the door with a look of determination on his face that clearly said he was never coming back.

And Sirius never did look back. Not while he rushed past Regulus, sitting in the plush chair in front of the fire, or even as he pulled open the door as his parents screeched at him, ordering him back into the house. But Sirius slammed the door shut behind him and he never turned around, never walked back inside, and never looked back.

Even two years later, Regulus knew Sirius never looked back.

But something changed that. Somewhere down the road, Sirius had turned. He finally broke and changed his ways and betrayed his friends. Maybe his parents somehow got to him and Sirius was tired of fighting? But Sirius had always been defiant, up to the point where he finally packed his bags and stormed out of the house.

Whatever the reason, Regulus was sorry he never believed in Sirius and now he was too late. He could only keep replaying the memory of Sirius walking out, wishing he could have followed knowing he never did.

Then Walburga Black burned Sirius off the family tree, and Regulus could still hear the hiss of the magic burning a hole over his brother's face, the edges curling away and glowing under the heat. Regulus wondered if his mother regretted that now, after Sirius had been sent to Azkaban for killing a handful of Muggles and one of his Muggle-loving friends.

"Master?"

Regulus turned to the door curiously after being interrupted abruptly from his mind wonderings only to find Kreacher bowing to him out in the hall.

"Master Regulus, Master Malfoy has come and awaits Master Regulus' presence downstairs in Master's office," the old house-elf said as he straightened himself up.

Regulus sighed and casting one last glance at Sirius' burnt picture, he nodded.

Kreacher disappeared with a pop just as Regulus walked out into the hall. Lucius was early. His appointment wasn't until three and it was barely half past noon now. Not that Regulus was going to complain, however; he'd rather get this over with as fast as he could and Lucius was definitely making a point to speed things along.

Lucius had already located the grave of Tom Riddle, Senior. Regulus had no idea how, but he assumed Lucius had remembered the name on the diary Voldemort gave him a year before His downfall and Lucius simply looked into it. His plan with Azkaban was already in motion. Lucius had decided the best way in was to convince the new Minister, Cornelius Fudge, that the Wizarding prison was overdue for inspection and insisted to tag along to help with the effort to ''make sure the inmates of Azkaban were secure in their cells and the world was protected from their dark desires to finish He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's evil plans''. From there, Lucius had told Regulus that he planned on sneaking a few spare wands and slipping them between the bars of the high security prisoner's cells. It'd be easy; the only tricky part was getting eleven spare wands past the security at Azkaban's entrance.

Now Lucius was only missing a few more pieces to finish his plan: the Dark Lord himself, whom Malfoy had insisted on searching for on his own, and an enemy of the Dark Lord's in which they planned on using to bring their old master back. There were, of course, plenty of advocates to choose from, but Lucius had decided on finding just one.

"Did you find him?" the blonde-haired wizard asked the moment Regulus stepped around the corner.

Regulus didn't answer, but instead opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a torn piece of newspaper clipping, handing it to the other wizard.

"In Little Whinging," he said as he watched Malfoy eye the paper suspiciously. "I found an obituary of the Potter's in one of the Muggle's old papers. It stated that Lily Evans Potter was survived by her son and her sister, Petunia Evans Dursley."

Lucius stared at him levelly. "And?" he asked obviously frustrated.

Regulus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "And," he went on, "Petunia Evans Dursley lives in Little Whinging. I have the address written down if you'd like it."

Malfoy placed the article on Regulus' desk. "How does this get me Potter? I asked you to find Potter. Not his Muggle aunt."

"He's there," Regulus said, sitting behind his desk and putting the obituary clipping away. "Living with his aunt. I've already gone there to check."

Lucius looked surprised. "He's living with Muggles?" he asked

Regulus shrugged.

"I thought for sure Dumbledore would have placed him with a Wizarding family," Lucius continued. "Not with a few… helpless Muggles." He spat out the last two words.

"They're not completely unprotected," Regulus explained. "Or I would have brought Potter back with me to be used at your disposal, Lucius. I found a few wards around the property when I tried walking up to their door."

Lucius nodded as he stared at Regulus' desk and simply stood there. Regulus assumed he was planning out a few more details and allowed the older wizard to stand and stare. Regulus stood by in contentment, though he was secretly wishing that Lucius would decide that this was all too risky and end it all.

"The inspection is the sixth of November," Lucius said absently as he continued to stare at the surface of the desk.

Regulus lifted his head a little higher in acknowledgement, finding it a little ironic that the breakout would take place on Sirius' birthday.

"That gives us six days to take care of the smaller details…" Lucius' eyes flickered up to meet Regulus'. "And here I thought your little freelance job would gain you nothing."

Regulus bit his tongue to keep from laughing, but instead quirked his eyebrow at the statement.

A couple of years ago, in his hunt to find the remaining horcruxes, Regulus found himself at Borgin and Burkes asking if Mr. Borgin had ever sold a ring that had an odd connection with the Gaunt family. When Mr. Borgin asked why he was looking for such an unusual artifact, Regulus made up the lie that he was tracking it down for a friend who had lost it. He guessed a bystander had heard his innocent untruth and told a few friends because since then, wizards and witches had began hiring him to help them find their missing things that they thought had been stolen: rings their estranged family members had picked up from their last visit, lucky sport socks, kneepads or mascots rival teams had stolen in the attempt to throw the other team off and many other miscellaneous things people have let go missing. Just recently Regulus had visitors come to him asking if he could find missing people.

It was both a distraction to what he was really trying to do and a helpful tool. Everyone had become so acquainted with Regulus Black showing up in strange places asking for strange things that no one ever asked him any questions. If he needed admittance into the Department of Mysteries, he had a feeling he'd be allowed in and out, no questions asked.

Regulus had, oddly enough, become very good at the unusual job he found himself in, but a lot of it he'd simply been lucky. Others told him he had a gift. Regulus thought it was just common sense.

Perhaps Regulus had developed too much of a liking for finding things, he suddenly realized. He never ever really batted an eyelash at the idea of hunting Potter down. He had just done it and now, after handing Potter's location over, Regulus felt a squirming monster grow in his chest.

"It isn't a freelance job," Regulus stated as he stood, feeling uncomfortable with himself now.

"Isn't it?" Malfoy asked with a slight sneer. "Unless, of course, you're planning on making it a business, Black?"

Regulus scowled. "Fine," he said with a huff and he sneered. "I'm freelancing."

Malfoy smirked as Regulus crossed his arms and continued to scowl. "Once the Dark Lord is back, I'm sure your skills will be put to better use than what you've currently been doing, Regulus," he said, offering a bizarre encouragement as he fished in his robes and pulled out a bag of coins. "Doubtless, though, you'd even need a job at all."

Regulus frowned when Lucius pulled five galleons out and neatly stacked them on his desk. The squirming monster growing in chest doubled in size and he shook his head at Lucius. "Keep your money, Lucius," he said, grabbing the coins and handing them back to their previous owner. He did not want to be paid for tracking Harry Potter down to resurrect the Dark Lord. "Friends are free of charge."

Lucius took the money back without question and nodded curtly at Regulus. "Very well," he said, pocketing the sack of coins. "I suppose we'll see each other again on the sixth. Until then, we'll keep in touch."

Regulus nodded in agreement as Lucius walked away, finding his own way out. Once Regulus heard his front door click shut, he let himself sag in his chair, feeling like he had just done the worst possible thing in the world.

"Give me your Mars Bar."

"Get your own Mars Bar, Dudley."

"Dad! Harry wont share his Halloween candy!"

Harry rolled his eyes when his cousin started wining. All Dudley got for Halloween was chocolates. And more than he needs, he thought sourly as he watched his cousin pouring his pillowcase full of sweets onto the floor. The green antennas on Dudley were bouncing atop his head from his alien costume that, by all definitions, were too small for him. But his aunt swore her precious 'Duddikins' wore nothing over the size she got him. Harry could literally see the stitches in the seams giving out when Dudley so much as moved.

It had been an peculiar Halloween simply because Dudley had wanted Harry to participate with him with his yearly raiding of neighborhood houses for candy. He had insisted that Harry dress up with him (though not to be as "scary" as Dudley's costume was to be) and actually wanted Harry to walk up to the houses he thought had the best candy.

Harry hadn't particularly wanted to go trick-or-treating with his cousin, especially in Dudley's old teddy bear sheets pretending to be a ghost. But considering that he was usually left at the house watching other neighborhood kids come up the Dursley's front porch for candy, Harry thought it might be a nice change of events.

Though, now that Harry thought about it, Dudley probably only wanted Harry tagging along for candy stealing purposes only. Dudley had most likely thought that if he had someone else, like Harry who virtually had no way of not "sharing" his candy, he could get double the candy in less the time.

"Harry, share with Dudley," Harry's Uncle Vernon ordered, hardly looking up from the papers he was reading at the table.

Now, as Harry sat with Dudley in the living room, with Dudley having most of the candy between the two of them and Harry being left with small packets of Wine Gums and Lemon Drops, Harry was almost certain that his theory had been correct.

Before Harry could even hand the chocolate bar over, his cousin leaned over and snatched it from under his nose. That had been his last chocolate bar and Harry had been planning on saving it. At the very least, Dudley didn't try and take the Wine Gums he'd managed to get from Mr. Anderson's house. Those, at least, were still good.

Dudley ripped open the wrapping on Harry's chocolate bar and made a face. "Harry already took a bite off it!" he whined.

With a sigh, Harry tossed his Wine Gums at his cousin before he even asked for them and stood, quickly grabbing a handful of Lemon Drops and stuffing them in his pockets. If he had to run around the block with his cousin dressed as a ghost in teddy bear sheets, he was going to get something out of it, at least.

"I'm going to bed," Harry announced, getting no reaction whatsoever from his relatives.

Walking toward his cupboard, Harry saw his Aunt Petunia peeking through the curtains. Her arms were crossed over her chest and Harry noticed the worry lines at the corners of her mouth. Harry couldn't help but mentally roll his eyes at her antics. She was probably worried that one of the neighbor's kids was going to trample her already-dying lawn.

"Night, Aunt Petunia," Harry said as he opened the door to his cupboard.

Petunia merely waved off the comment and continued to stare out the window.

Toppling onto his cot, Harry popped one of his Lemon Drops into his mouth and rolled it around his tongue. He supposed the night hadn't gone too terribly. He did get a few pieces of candy out of it and he did get to walk the neighborhood without Dudley trying to chase him up a tree. Dudley even told Polkiss off for trying to whack Harry with his bucket of candy.

Harry reached over to one of the shelves by his bed and picked up one of Dudley's old motorcycle toys he had lost interest in. He spun one of the wheels. Dudley didn't even like motorcycles; he couldn't even ride his bike. The only reason Dudley had cried to his parents until they bought him the toy was because Harry had been studying it at the store.

"Vernon?"

Harry looked at his door at the sound of his aunt's worried voice and wondered vaguely if she noticed an overturned flowerpot on her step. She had always hated Halloween for that very reason.

Harry lifted the toy motorcycle above his head, imagining that it was flying. He had a dream, just the other night, about a flying motorcycle.

"Vernon," Petunia said again. "Vernon, come here."

Harry listened to the sounds of his uncle getting up from his seat in the living room, grunting with the effort as he did so and he heard the floor creak in protest as he walked by Harry's cupboard. Harry could hear his aunt and uncle's voices murmuring by the staircase, but he couldn't make out anything they were saying. He supposed they were possibly debating amongst each other whether or not they should call the police for vandalism.

Harry weaved the motorcycle above his head, picturing the soft grumble of the engine in his mind. Harry made it take a hard turn in the air before having it touchdown on his shelf again.

"You don't think its one of them, do you?" Harry finally heard his aunt say.

"No, no, Petunia," Vernon told her roughly. Harry found himself sitting up from his cot and placing an ear against his cupboard door to listen in. "It's just one of the neighbors off Magnolia Crescent is all, Petunia."

"He doesn't look like one of our neighbors, Vernon," Aunt Petunia said. "He doesn't look… normal."

Uncle Vernon grunted, possibly agreeing with her. Harry cracked open his door to look, finding his aunt and uncle peering out the window and across the street. Harry had to wonder vaguely what his aunt meant by not looking "normal". What made anything look "normal" on the streets on Halloween?

"Mummy! Daddy!"

Harry quickly shut the door when he saw Petunia and Vernon turn around sharply at the sound of their son's screaming in the other room.

Dudley came running down the hallway. "Harry broke my costume!" he yelled.

Harry heard his cousin sniffling on the other side of his door, obviously crying over something Harry never did.

"It's just a small tear, Dudley," Harry heard Aunt Petunia say. By the tone of her voice, she seemed distracted. "Nothing Mummy can't fix."

"But Harry broke it, Mum!" Dudley griped.

Harry turned around and made sure to hide the last of his lemon drops before his cousin found a way to take those too. After quickly stuffing them in a sock and throwing that under his bed, Harry expected to find his aunt opening his cupboard door, but it remained closed and Dudley continued whining.

"I want you to punish Harry!" Dudley began sobbing. "He broke my costume!"

"Not now Dudley," Aunt Petunia said. She still sounded worried, but her son didn't seem to notice. "We'll fix it tomorrow. Why don't you go get yourself ready for bed and Mummy will come tuck you in in a little while, hmm?"

Harry half expected Dudley to protest and was surprised to hear his cousin stomping up the stairs, sending dust and spiders falling onto Harry's head. Once Dudley slammed his door shut, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia began whispering to each other again.

"What if he comes up to the house?" Aunt Petunia murmured nervously.

Uncle Vernon grumbled under his breath. "We'll pretend we're asleep," he said, and Harry saw the lights go out from the crack under his door. "Lock the doors and windows and ignore him if he comes knocking."

Aunt Petunia must have agreed with her husband because after that, Harry heard them walking up the stairs and turning off the lights.

Once things upstairs went quiet as everyone went to bed, Harry slowly opened his door, pausing every once and a while when it squeaked. He quietly slipped out into the hall and tip-toed to the front door, keeping an ear open to any sounds from up stairs. Pushing the curtain aside, Harry peeked out the window.

The street was dark. All the trick-o-treaters must have gone home, too. A few streetlights were still lit and between two of them, Harry could see a darkly dressed figure standing on the sidewalk opposite the Dursley's. The glow from the lampposts provided just enough ambient light for Harry to see a hint of the figure's face. It seemed like the man (because Harry was sure it was a man despite what looked like long blonde hair flowing over the figure's shoulders) was looking right at him.

The man smiled.

Harry felt his heart jump in his throat, and in a blink, the man was gone.

Author's Note:Thanks again for reading! Don't forget to review!