He'd scraped himself again, so she patched him up. Regulus decided that was quite enough, so he gathered all the books spread over the ground, stacking the tomes against the tree. Dorcas settled on the low branch, gathering her robes close.
"There are seven of them," said Regulus, sitting on the damp ground next to the stack, facing Dorcas. "Why did you bring them out here?"
Dorcas regarded him for a moment before answering. His grey eyes were rimmed with red, and a thin layer of blue showed through his white skin. His hair was a mess, a tangle of uncombed black tresses jutting out at odd angles. Impressively messy for hair that short. She wanted to reach out and comb it through with her fingers.
"I thought they'd be safe."
Regulus closed his eyes, long dark lashes on his pale skin. He lay down on the wet grass, hands under his head.
Dorcas continued. "I couldn't keep them in my dormitory, there's not enough space. I only get one bookshelf, and that's already full. The first few nights I managed to fit four of them under my bed, and I slept on the rest of them."
She watched his chest slowly rise and fall, and, sensing no answer, continued. "Under my pillow. Like an Egyptian, sleeping on rocks." She paused again and a moment passed.
Regulus opened his eyes and turned towards her.
"How did you do that?"
"What?"
"You know, the spell to regrow skin? clear heads?" He made vague gestures with his hand.
"Oh." She lowered herself onto the ground next to him and leaned against the tree, a corner of a book jutting into her shoulder. The grass was only slightly damp, but it didn't matter because she was wearing full wool robes. They were on more equal planes now. "My mother's a Healer. No real secret. I want to be one, too. I would go to work with her when I was little, and I've picked up a few of the simpler spells."
"She's at St. Mungo's?"
"Well, she is now. Not like there are many other places she can work anymore."
He rolled over onto his side. Dorcas saw his expression change to the practiced look of aristocratic concern. Very politic, very cautious, very polished. It annoyed her and she answered his look sharply.
"Didn't you hear? Your father probably knows. It was the talk of the town. My dad had to make up some bullshit to keep the tongues from wagging."
He stayed calm, his answer measured. "Just because my father knows doesn't mean he would tell me. He's not a gossip, like some people."
She clenched her jaw. "You know, don't you." It was an accusation. Regulus drew in a breath, about to protest, but she cut him off.
"It's not even as if it's something to be ashamed about! She was working, helping people! And the Ministry wouldn't allow it - "
"Stop, Dorcas. I don't want to know. You don't want me to know." Regulus sat up slowly, but didn't meet her eyes. He picked blades of grass intently.
She wiped her eyes, now thoroughly frustrated at herself for getting so worked up. A pit of discontent had formed in her stomach. He was right, but she wasn't going to let him win. Dorcas breathed in and out. "I mean, what's wrong with doing the right thing? Why are people so uptight about taking a stand?"
Regulus looked at her again with those grey eyes, the coloring of his face still not completely right. She sensed he was almost sickly. "How far back can you trace your family tree?"
"And this has a point?" Dorcas asked. Regulus nodded solemnly. "Well," she said, thinking back to the dusty scrolls in their library under the heading Genealogy. "I guess about twelve hundred years."
"Who's the heir?"
"My uncle Joseph."
"Would you disgrace him?"
She thought of the plump, jolly man who always gave her the largest present on Christmas day. "No, but - "
"Would you disgrace twelve hundred years of ancestors? Twelve hundred years?"
"Of course not, but that's beside the - "
"Would it be right to disgrace their names? Names they worked for all their lives so that you could be here today to wear it proudly? It's not right. Gossip is a menace and it could hurt them as much as any hex." His voice was cool as steel.
"But that shouldn't discourage people from putting names on the line."
"Who will listen to you if you don't have a name? Even if you do see injustice, putting your faith on the wrong thing will tarnish your name forever. You won't be taken seriously. Some say your mother was working on something rather trivial. It wasn't enough to merit losing a reputation like that of your family's. Your father did the right thing, as much as your mother did." Regulus was the one getting worked up now. "Who would you be without your name? In that house? With those servants?
"There are codes to be followed, decorum to be observed. For a reason. Be proud that you are a Pureblood. Not everyone can claim it."
She paused. "You're missing my point. A name should not prevent action. No matter your name, injustice will damn you. Would you agree with that?"
"Of course," Regulus answered, pulling his knees up to his chest. "I have my scruples. I have compassion for my fellow man and all that."
Dorcasallowed a smile. She didn't really feel like arguing today. Arching aneyebrow in his direction, she said"Seriously? You have a heart? Somewhere under all those expensive robes a heart beats?"
"I think it's still beating. Unless you detect something with those amazing Healer powers of yours."
"You'd know pretty quickly if it had stopped, Regulus."
"And if it did? Right here, right now? Would you save me?"
She looked him over. "Well. Perhaps."
"That's comforting."
"No, you know what? I'd trade you. I'll recusitate you if you agree to give up your name."
"What, all of it? Can't I just trade off a few of my middle names?"
"A few? Good god man! How many do you have?"
Regulus looked down at his hands and began counting off silently on his fingers. When he'd run out of fingers, he looked up and simply said, "Far too many."
"No, then, you can't barter those. It's all or nothing. Regulus, Black, the odd Alphard and the rest."
"Well." He bit his lip. "You might as well let me die. I'm quite fond of Alphard."
"Disgraceful," Dorcas proclaimed, cluckingher tongue. "Your life to keep your name."
"And I'd do it again."
Dorcas stood. "You'd better hope that your heart doesn't stop while I'm around, then." She picked up four of the books on the stack, unsure of exactly what she was going to do with them. She set them back down. "Um. Do you think maybe you could take a few of these back to yourroom or something?"
He laughed. "Right. Here, I'vea better idea. Let's leave them here. We'll dig a hole and cover it. Nobody will find them. Don't worry," he said, answering the fearful look on Dorcas's face,"we'll line the hole with steel, silver, something. They'll be fine."
Dorcas released a long sigh. "I don't have any better ideas. Do you have a shovel?"