The Welcoming Feast was a pain in the ass, as usual. Severus Snape knew that it would be. It was just as bad as Snape remembered when he was a student there, except he no longer had acquaintances he didn't entirely loathe surrounding himself with so as to ignore everyone else at the feast. That Miss Granger forgot what he told her about the seating arrangement and in defiance, took his place, which was next to Minerva McGonagall, who Granger did not stop nattering on with throughout the entire feast. This left Snape wedged between Flitwick and Trelawney, the latter of which would not stop staring at him and muttering predictions about betrayal and faulty loyalties. He ate nothing the entire night, looking forward to the bottle of Odgens he had stored in a cabinet somewhere in his study.

Once the feast was over, Snape stomped his way to the dungeons, his black cloak billowing behind him far more imperiously than it did when he was a student storming to the Slytherin common room. His wand was gripped tightly in his right hand, as though he were about to snap it or hex someone else, whatever came first.

Silly, impudent, little girl, he thought, gritting his teeth. The cool, damp dungeons did nothing to slack the feverish anger that had swept over him following his encounter with the Gryffindor princess. They all think they're royalty. I'll bet my golden scales she's exactly like Black and Potter.

When Snape reached his office and rooms, the hair on the back of his neck stiffened. There was magic in this room, and not his own. He held his wand aloft, neglecting to ward, enchant, and lock his door once more. He crept forward, trying to catch any shifting or looming shadows that the fire blazing in the ancient fireplace may have thrown against walls or the stone floor.

"Someone is in here," he said icily, wanting to be heard. "Show yourself, or I shall curse you." His feet took him from his office and into his study and rooms, which were cast in silence and darkness. "Lumos maxima."

Two figures were lumped together in the corner of his room, not far from his four-poster bed. One was rather small and bent over the other, which lay in a clumsy and unmoving heap. The one on his floor was human. The one hunched over the human and wringing its hands was not. Snape flung his wand arm out at it silently.

"Kreacher." It was not a greeting.

The house elf flinched as he turned his head to take in Snape's looming height. He shuffled over to the Potions Master.

"Kreacher is not breaking and entering into Master Severus Snape's quarters," the elf said, bowing low enough to where his gnarled nose pressed hard into the floor.

"Is that so?" Snape didn't quite snarl, however, it caused the elf to shake slightly before becoming erect once more. Snape walked over towards Kreacher, lowering his wand to the lump on the floor to see whom it was that the elf has brought. Probably dead drunk. Severus toed the young man's hip with the toe of his boot.

"Master Regulus is getting into Severus Snape's quarters with tools, sir," the elf said in a croaking voice. He tugged on Snape's pant leg to get the Potion Master's attention, brandishing a pocketknife.

"An old Black trick." Snape murmured. He did not take the pocketknife even though Kreacher was holding it up to him to inspect or even confiscate. "Why have you brought Regulus here, Kreacher? I'm sure he was not at all the mastermind of this little journey, judging from his current state."

Kreacher continued to wring his hands, averting Snape's eyes. "Kreacher is not supposed to say where Master Regulus has gone nor what he has done. Oh, what my Mistress would say if she knew that Kreacher allowed Master Regulus to do something so treacherous." The elf reached up to his ears, taking both in his hands and crushing them with all his might while shaking his head back and forth, muttering no, no, no, bad Kreacher.

Snape knelt down next to Regulus Black, pressing the tip of his wand into the younger man's temple. "Enneverate."

Snape held his breath, ignoring the groans and whimpers coming from Kreacher off to the side.

It took ten minutes and Regulus's long, dark eyelashes fluttered open. His steel, grey eyes rolled to the back of his head and his jaw went slack as he breathed out, "Water," in a hoarse, dead voice.

Snape ran to his bathroom and filled an empty mason jar with water from the tap. He sat it next to Regulus's slowly stirring body and walked swiftly to his study, unlocking his cabinets and searched for a Restorative Draught. When he found one, he went back into his rooms, and slid into a sitting position beside his old friend. Regulus had only been able to wrap his fingers around the jar and was unable to bring it to his lips so far.

"Can you sit up, Regulus?"

Regulus groaned. Kreacher whimpered and flapped over to his master before Snape could do anything. Kreacher roughly yanked Regulus up into a hunched, yet sitting position. Regulus's head fell onto Snape's shoulder. Snape did not snarl and recoil from the contact. In fact, how many times had he helped this boy, out of his mind on Firewhiskey or who knows what else, in an attempt to impress all the other Slytherins. This was just the same. Except, Snape wasn't sure what the younger has gotten into this time.

Snape picked up the Mason jar and pressed its rim to Regulus's lips, tilting it.

Regulus's fingers wrapped around Snape's own, taking it from him. "Come off it, Sev. I'm no child." He chuckled, but the sound of it seemed as though it hurt his chest as it turned into a cough.

"Slowly," Severus murmured, watching his friend carefully.

Regulus took a large, greedy gulp and spilled jar's contents. Snape waved his wand to Vanish the spilled water. Instead of filling the jar once more, he handed Regulus the potion.

"This will have you right."

"Cheers," Regulus said, and raised the flask to his lips and took slow, calculated sips until the entirety of the potion was gone.

It took the potion less time to bring him back to full consciousness than the spell Snape cast earlier.

"Can you stand?" Snape asked after a few more minutes, watching his friend, making sure he wouldn't have to search for another potion, perhaps an antidote.

"I think so." He tried to push himself up and grimaced at the action. "It's like I can finally feel all the places I hurt. I don't suppose you have anything for the pain, eh, Sev?"

Snape grasped the younger from under his armpits and hauled him upward in one swift moment before helping him trudge over to an open armchair next to the bedroom's unlit fireplace. Snape murmured a charm to set it ablaze, warming Regulus.

"Do you mind telling me what was going through that naïve, thick skull of yours breaking into here?" Snape snapped once he saw that Regulus was comfortable. "You know how many enemies I have. How many enemies you have. I do trust that you know that your dratted brother—the auror—visits the school from time to time."

"What? Sirius is?" Regulus furrowed his brows, brining his thumb up to his mouth to nimbly chew at the nail there. His dark hair had grown out since Snape had seen him and it fell into his eyes. Regulus pushed it out of his eyes in such a way that was so Sirius Black that Snape could have vomited.

"No, your other brother," Snape rolled his eyes. There was no other brother. "Yes, Sirius." Snape sniffed at the first name. "Black and Potter have little meetings with Dumbledore quite frequently. And it's just like old times to run into them again, let me tell you."

"I'm sorry, Severus. At least you don't see them everyday." Regulus gave a small, hopeful smile.

"Indeed."

There was silence. Even Kreacher had stopped making all kinds of noise. It was a wonder that he was still there at all.

"I need your help, Severus." Regulus finally blurted out from around his thumb. He dropped his hands into his lap. One went into his cloak's pocket, almost impulsively.

"And all of this was just a nice visit?" Snape drawled, waving his arm towards the corner of his room they were previously huddled in.

Regulus scooted to the edge of his seat, grimacing as he did so, resting his elbows at his knees, crossing his arms. "Please, Severus. You've always been like a brother to me. You're my only friend. Well, besides Kreacher," Regulus let out a short, pathetic chuckle at this admission.

Kreacher's eyes filled up with unshed tears, "Master Regulus is the most noble, the most worthy of all Black descendents."

Regulus held up a hand, "Please, Kreacher. Allow me to speak to Severus. Go to Grimmauld Place. I shall meet you there. No, none of that," he said when Kreacher's hard face fell and his mouth opened to protest. "I shall meet you there. Go. Now."

With a tiny pop they were left in silence, sans the thunderstorm that began brewing outside only moments ago. The rain belted against the windows so loudly that Regulus felt himself (who already spoke quietly and softly enough) having to speak louder and strain harder to hear Snape's responses.

"It is about the Dark Lord." Regulus's hand went to his covered left forearm.

Snape felt himself going to do the same thing before he caught himself and stopped. "Go on," but Snape lengthened the latter word so long that he was almost purring, like.

Regulus scooted further still into his chair. He glanced out the window. A fine mist was building up and there was no light outside. "I don't know if I've made a mistake and I don't know how long I have. I've discovered something about dear, old Tom that he would be loathe anyone know about him. Do you remember how he would give us Legilimency tests? After we've practiced?"

Snape only nodded. So far as he knew, he—Snape—was the only accomplished Legilimens of the Death Eaters. He had not known that the Dark Lord provided additional private lessons to his peers…

"I'm afraid that I was able to tap into an old memory of his. It was tucked so far back. I think he was more focused upon delving into my own, he didn't notice that I was looking around in his mind. My Occlumency is so strong. It is all too easy to let a Legilimens believe they are doing what they wish with my mind, all the while hiding my own penetration into their minds. At least, that's how it worked with the Lestranges and Lucius…"

Snape had grown impatient. He had no desire to listen to what an accomplished whatever Regulus was, friend or not. "Spit it out, Black."

Regulus looked taken aback by the usage of his surname. "Do you know what Horcruxes are?" Regulus breathed this out in one word.

"Of course I do. Don't you know who you're talking to?" Snape knew the Death Eaters only wished they had as much knowledge about the Dark Arts as he. Especially with him being younger than the lot of them.

"I forget myself, old friend," Regulus gritted his teeth. "The Dark Lord has created at least one." This was when Regulus removed his hand from his cloak and dangled a heavy locket with a serpentine 'S' carved into it. The chain was wrapped and entwined throughout his fingers, as though afraid that Snape would yank the object from his hand.

Snape's eyes followed the locket's slight side-to-side sway, as though being hypnotized. "Are you certain, Regulus?"

Regulus's head would not stop bouncing up and down in affirmation. It made him look much younger than his eighteen or nineteen years, despite the gruesome black bags under his eyes and his hollow cheeks on his once handsome face.

"May I?" Snape asked.

Regulus untwined his hand from the locked and pressed it into Snape's hand. While Snape inspected the locket, Regulus went into great detail about the Dark Lord's memory of discovering Horcruxes and how to create them. The memory of the cave and where the Horcrux was hidden. He even told Snape about the imitation locket with the handwritten note he left for Voldemort.

"He'll figure it out soon. I think you can feel something once the Horcrux is removed from its enchanted place of protection. He will come after me soon, Severus. That, or send one of you after me. I must hide this locket until I figure out how to destroy it." Regulus paused as Snape held out the heavy locket, indicating that he was finished with it. Regulus balled it up into his pocket once more. "I almost wondered if you could brew a Dissolving Draught of some kind. To where it could eat the locket away into nothingness."

"There is far too much Dark Magic involved with the creation of that object that even the strongest of acids I could produce would do nothing to it."

"What do I do, Severus? Please."

"You must go into hiding. You must get far away. Take the locket with you, or hide it somewhere that someone else can find it and destroy it later for you."

"Will you hold onto it for me, Severus. You are the Dark Lord's favorite, his most trusted."

"What, and have Dumbledore find out I am harboring it? I told you. Aurors come to these grounds far too often. They no doubt have Dark Detectors. They have been to my office more times that I would care to acknowledge." His voice was bitter, but he really did wish to help his friend, although in a way to save his own skin. "What about your parent's house?"

Regulus muttered something about hating the house as much as Sirius had when they lived there together. "My parents are both dead. It is technically Sirius's estate now."

"An estate he shall never set foot in. You know how much he loathes it. You just said so yourself. Get that house elf to hide it for you. You won't be sorry." Snape was getting impatient and wished that Regulus would just leave.

He wished that they hadn't had this encounter at all. This was information he wished he didn't have. What if it fell into the wrong hands? What if it fell into the Dark Lord's hands? Snape was constantly interrogated by all about Regulus's whereabouts enough as it was. He practiced Occlumency and Legilimency so much it pained him, but he didn't know how good he would be at altering memories so that this one would be completely untouched by the Dark Lord.

"I will check on Kreacher and the locket some time soon," but Snape was only telling him this to get him out of his office, out of the castle, out of the country.

The storm outside had subsided. Regulus looked to the window and took this as his cue to leave.

Regulus held out his hand and Snape grasped it. They both squeezed hard. "Thanks, Sev. I'll write you when I get out of the country." Regulus threw on his old Invisibility Cloak after giving his old friend one last look of profound thanks and affection.

While he told Snape about the secret passageway he came through—one that led into Hogsmeade and would allow him to Apparate—Hermione Granger hastily ripped the pair of Extendable Ears she was using into her cloak pocket and flew to the girls' bathroom further down the corridor. She locked the door behind her and slid into a sitting position against it. She was panting, but not from the burst of running, and instead from what she just heard.

Hermione had been on her way to apologize to Snape for taking his chair during the feast and to explain that it was McGonagall who insisted she sit there next to her. Hermione planned to tell Snape that she was not meaning to start a bloody war over a piece of furniture. Instead, but the time she made it to the door, she had heard strained voices speaking over the storm about Horcruxes, and was immobilized on the spot.

Was this enough information to go back to her own time? Could knowing where this one Horcrux came from be enough to figure out where the rest were? Surely not.

Hermione waited maybe twenty minutes longer in the bathroom before collecting herself up from the floor, leaving the dungeons, and fleeing to the entrance hall. She barely made it to the staircase before someone grabbed her from behind, wrapping a hand around her mouth and dragging her into the empty staffroom. Her assailant locked and silenced the door.

She was let go as she was pushed into an armchair. She lifted her chin to look up at…

"Harry?" She breathed, taking in the sight before her. A tall, thin, but fit, young man with untidy jet-black hair stared down at her. He was dressed in a black button down shirt and black blazer with too many buttons. He had a cloak on over all of this. Its collar was popped almost impudently. He had an Auror badge pinned on the cloak. He narrowed his eyes from behind his dirty glasses before running a hand through his hair, further mussing it up.

The man next to him barked out a laugh. "Hairy? Yes, he is. That mess." He ran his own hand through his friend's hair.

Hermione looked at the companion, who was so good-looking with nearly shoulder-length black hair tied back in a plait. He was dressed in a beautiful, well-fitted white shirt with a scarlet tie and charcoal waistcoat. His Auror badge was pinned to the area of his waistcoat where a folded handkerchief should have gone. His arms were crossed at his chest and he gave off a haughty, yet slightly amused look.

"Dumbledore," said the good-looking one, "told us to meet you. Said you'd be right useful to the cause. Brain like yours."

"Smarter than Remus, he says you are," said not-Harry. "I am James Potter—"

"Sirius Black," the companion interjected. "Aurors."

"Members of the Order of the Phoenix." James finished, looking her over. "Care to join?"