Hi all, I'm sorry for the time it took to post this chapter, but aside from being really long, I hope people can appreciate that it was difficult to write Regulus as a toddler while maintaining his teenage mind. Please provide feedback and comment 3

November 1st, 1981 - Day after the defeat of the Dark Lord

It took a while for Regulus Black to orient himself. Not thirty seconds previous, he had had the freezing hands of the Inferi pulling him deep into the lake to join them in death. He had accepted that; Regulus knew he wouldn't survive once he stole the Dark Lord's horcrux, but what now?

No matter what, he would need to get moving. Regulus felt filthy, as if mud and dirt were all over him, and when he looked down at himself, he fell back on his bum in surprise. He was no longer a handsome, lithe boy of 18. No, he was some freaking small child that couldn't be any older than two!

The weather was also unforgivable, and Regulus felt the chill creep into his skin, making him shudder uncontrollably. Frantically, the small boy attempted to wrap his arms around him, only to notice that he was completely naked, and yes, mud and dirt and water clung to him like a second skin. At least he was right about something.

The pureblood's inhibitions down, with absolutely no one in sight to help him, Regulus felt the familiar hopelessness he had experienced every day when he lived at Grimmauld Place. No one had cared then, and it was the same thing now, except he was too young to safely live without supervision as he had wished to do in his first life.

Not knowing what to do, Regulus cried. It seemed to be a natural response, to let the sobs come from his shuddering body, but there was no one around to hear him. Nearby he saw some grassy land, so Regulus carefully walked there and then fell to his knees, crawling instead. Being naked meant being vulnerable; again, he unwittingly remembered all the punishments forced upon him by his mother and when she had stripped him of his clothes to teach him a lesson better. Once more, though it had never really gone, the cold seeped into every bone in his body, and he tried ignoring how his toes, knees and hands felt like they were freezing off and how utterly he wished he could have remained dead.

It was clear to him that despite the size of his person, he did not have the mental capacity of a toddler and had, instead, maintained the mind of his teenage self. At least, he found he could be grateful for something. For the third time that night, Regulus felt something strange. A warm feeling wrapped around him as if checking him, then finding him satisfactory, pushed it into his chest.

Right, Regulus felt like hitting himself. He was a wizard. Before he could think to conjure robes onto himself, he heard a shout.

"Oi, laddie, awriight?"

Promptly, Regulus stopped crying. Shit, shit, shit. He couldn't very well obliviate the man; he had to keep up pretences! He also couldn't act like an adult; what if it somehow hurt the statute of secrecy? And he definitely couldn't go home. What would happen if he showed up on his mother's doorstep? Was she even alive? What year was it?

Despondent, Regulus whimpered, his body shuddering non-stop now. In front of a muggle, he couldn't even warm himself. Though, to his shock, the man took off his coat, which was blissfully warm, and wrapped it around Regulus like a blanket. It didn't seem to matter that he had mud and likely loads of other gross things covering his body. As the young boy was carried in the arms of the man, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He had never met this man before, but he seemed kind and considerate in a way that no one had ever been with him in his past life. If his mother had been in this man's place, she would have harshly spelled him clean and then crucioed him on the spot, smiling as he would scream and beg for it to stop. He had learnt to stop screaming by the time he was ten, and she stopped once he had gone to school. It always made him wonder if her reasoning was to protect herself just in case he told someone it had happened. But the idea of bringing someone into family matters just never occurred to him.

Was he correct? This was a second chance at living, was it not? To make better choices? To be raised, hopefully, better than the pain and suffering of his first youth.

Regulus' heart sank when they arrived at the orphanage. He recognised where he was now, and he didn't like it. When he'd been a Death Eater, they had done raids here; a few kids had got under Bellatrix's foot, and now they were gone. How could he face a place like this with all these kids who had likely suffered before — like he would have to suffer now? Truthfully though, he had no choice. He could do nothing as a toddler, no matter how smart he was. Despite the man owing him nothing, Regulus couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment. He and this man meant nothing to one another, but now he was being left in the hands of strangers who hadn't shown him kindness.

The man knocked heavily on the door, and an older woman peeked through the window from a floor above.

"What's wrong?"

"Got one for ya, Mrs Hacker."

The woman in question leaned further out to have a look at him, and for a heartwrenching second, Regulus thought she would fall. "Oh, the poor thing," she murmured before closing the window and, moments later, opened the door and escorted the man in.

"What happened?" Mrs Hacker asked, gently taking Regulus into her arms and switching out his coat for a blanket that felt warmer than his soul. Some of the dirt had come off on the man's coat, which made Regulus feel dreadful, and he vowed to get the man another one when he was older if he was still around. She, too, ignored his messy appearance and just held him like her own child.

"Found the lad stranded out a bit away from here. Reckon someone must have dumped him; the lad was undressed, soaking wet and filthy."

At least the man acknowledged that he was dirty, and it didn't deter him. Regulus thought.

"Did he have any identification on him?"

"None," the man responded sadly, standing up. As the man turned to leave, Regulus felt his heart break the slightest bit as he realised he would likely never see the man again. At least not unless he looked for him somehow. It seemed like Mrs Hacker knew him; perhaps he could ask when she would deem him old enough.

It was a small consolation that this woman already seemed gentle and caring of him and that he wouldn't be alone again. As if to prove his point, the woman led Regulus, still cradling him to her chest, into the beautifully designed bathroom that would not have gone amiss in a pureblood manor.

Mrs Hacker ran the water, and rather than dump the boy in as he remembered his mother had done to him in the past, she made sure the water was warm and then slowly lowered Regulus in, watching him and waiting for any cues he might offer.

Regulus sat quietly in the small tub as the warm water enveloped him. He looked up at the elderly woman delicately washing him with a soft cloth. She hummed a soothing tune, and the boy felt a sense of comfort wash over him. The woman's kind eyes met his, and he knew he was in good hands. It seemed she wasn't bothered in the slightest at being woken at the crack of dawn, and for that, he was grateful.

As she worked, Regulus felt his body relax, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be wholly immersed in the sensation of the warm water and the gentle touch of the woman's hands. For a brief moment, he forgot about the hardships of his renewed young life and what the hell he was going to do now and instead took the time to feel gratitude for this moment of peace and care.

Mrs Hacker drained the water once, wrapped him in a towel so he wouldn't be cold, refilled the water again with fresh, clean water, then put him in again, and washed him a second time.

"There you go," she said softly, caressing his cheek and moving loose hair away from his face. "We're all done."

Regulus felt renewed energy and hope for the future as the bath ended, knowing there were people like the kind woman and the man from earlier who cared for him.

The women took him out of the bath, now empty of water, and wrapped him in a fluffy towel bigger than his entire body, though Regulus figured it made sense with various ages of children living there.

"Come with me, honey." She picked Regulus up into her arms once more, moving him towards what must have been the rooms.

"What's your name, dear?" she asked him.

"Wegulus" Damn, this wasn't going to work.

"You need a name…" Mrs Hacker mused, clearly not understanding what he had said to her.

Panicking, Regulus thought quickly. He had to do many things, including hiding that he had returned from the dead and was Regulus Arcturus Black.

Not wanting to end up in the Wizarding World with a random name, and certainly not a muggle one, although he wanted to avoid attention by coming into the world again as a Black, he wanted to retain that of the Sacred 28 at least. Wracking his brain, he realised his father's sister had married a Prewett, which solidified his decision. He would become a Prewett, even though he wasn't sure if it was the same Prewetts from the Sacred 28, the name was the same, and perhaps he could get away with it.

While she was still holding him, Regulus Arcturus Black closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling the energy of magic coursing through his body as he called it forth for the first time since he had been reborn. It came gloriously and happily as if it had never gone, which, if Regulus thought about it, his magic was always there, in death and life, as clearly, he was no longer dead.

Not sure if it was necessary, Regulus flicked his wrist and summoned a small amount of energy, focusing it at the bottom of his foot. Regulus Lawrence Prewett, he thought, forcing his magic to comply. He could only hope it worked. And he would need to find a way to force magic to accept him as a Prewett instead of a Black.

When she laid him down in the cot, he lifted his foot, hoping beyond hope that something would be written there.

"Oh, look at that, laddie, something is written on your foot… Let me get the light."

Feeling relieved, Regulus kept his foot up, waiting for her to turn the light on and return. "Someone must have just left you behind; I'm sorry, dearie…. But at least we know your name! Cute Reggie. Who's a cute boy?"

Regulus snorted, but she took that as a laugh and helped him into his pyjamas.

"I know it's just about morning, but why don't you get some rest?" Regulus nodded, wanting to get her out of the room so he could try and figure out a way to see if his magic accepted that this was, in fact, his name. Knowing Dumbledore and all his weird artefacts, he would need to change his name before it became assumed that "Regulus Arcturus Black" was returning to Hogwarts.

She had put some strange device on his night table, but Regulus had never seen one of them before in his entire existence, so he wasn't entirely sure what it was.

Not for the first time that morning, Regulus cursed his size; being a toddler impacted his ability to do anything! Remembering his cot from his first life didn't help, as Regulus had long ago outgrown that, and the muscle memory in his more petite body was no longer there.

The little toddler was hell-bent on getting out of his cot, and after his first few attempts left him collapsed on his arse and short of breath, he stopped, wondering if this was worth it; a vision of being mocked in the Slytherin House in 9 years spurred his decision. Still gasping on the mattress of his cot, he paused to formulate a plan that a toddler would think of rather than his 18-year-old mind. Refusing to give up as this would be his only opportunity alone, Regulus tried repeatedly, figuring out a different action plan each time. After the ninth time failing, he took a deep breath and, with a grunt of effort, pulled himself up to the top of the cot and tumbled over the edge, landing with a soft thud on the floor. For a moment, he lay there, stunned, unsure how to proceed and hoping beyond hope Mrs Hacker wasn't monitoring the small device that he was sure was somehow watching him — or at the very least listening to him.

Being as silent as possible, Regulus got to his feet and tiptoed over to the mirror with as much grace as a toddler could have. The tiny boy reached it after waddling over and thoroughly inspected the edges and sides, holding his palm nearby, trying to detect a sign of magic, though knowing there was likely no chance it would have any.

Using a reflective surface would be the easiest way for him to bounce back a desire that he might have, since doing anything else, especially around Muggles, was ludicrous. Just in case, he pushed his tiny hand forward, pressing some of his magic into the mirror, hoping it wouldn't explode or shatter.

Feeling a mixture of fear and determination, Regulus watched his reflection, seeing himself fully for the first time. He had little recollection of what he looked like as a toddler, except for the occasional magical photograph his mother had taken when she still had pride in both her children. And for some reason, he looked nothing like that boy anymore.

The mirror glowed and settled. It didn't shatter.

Regulus wondered if he was destined for some great thing or another, and that was why magic decided to bring him back, but regardless, there was one thing standing in his way — his family name. Initially, he was born a Black and was confident he still was.

Not that he wouldn't have enjoyed the Black Fortune, but now, it didn't serve him. He had to avoid detection. At least his magic listened to his desire to write his chosen name on his foot. There was no way he'd be able to live a second time as Regulus Black, and it would have to change now.

With a deep breath, he summoned all his courage from his previous life and spoke the words that would change his destiny — or so he hoped.

For a moment, Regulus thought back to his Latin lessons from before Hogwarts. There were two he could have used to say, but he couldn't remember if it was Mutare Nomen or Nomina Arcanum. Biting his lip, he decided to wing it and hope his intention would work.

"Nomina Arcanum!" Regulus whispered, gritting his teeth as he pronounced each syllable and consonant with care. He hated being two. How many times would he have to repeat it? Maybe he could do the Rule of Three and hope that would cover his basis. Perhaps he should find his mother again and ask her to teach him more. "Nomina Arcanum! Nomina Arcanum!" It seemed to do something as he was hot all over, his hand fuzzy, with sparks of what he thought could be electricity buzzing around it. Fascinating. And now for the finale…

"My name is Regulus Lawrence Prewett," the boy muttered, cringing at the sound of his voice. Ugh… He was forcing away his baby voice as he doubted magic would accept it pronounced incorrectly. At least once he was done with this, he could just let go and sound like a prat, right? He didn't think he would quickly get used to hearing a child. He was a sophisticated pureblood, after all. "I am not a Black. I am a Prewett," he declared, staring intensely into the mirror. For a moment, there was silence, and he wondered if the mirror had heard him or if he was being a right wanker and nothing would happen at all. Suddenly he felt a surge of magical energy, similar to the one he felt when he had just come to life, and yet again, he fell back onto his arse as the power kicked him down a peg. He probably ought not to be doing this kind of magic at his age. The mirror began to glow with a brilliant light, and cracks started to form in the mirror. This was his only warning. Diving out of the way failed miserably as his lunge barely brought him a couple of feet away from where he was, rather than the considerable amount of space he imagined he'd go. Without thinking, a Protego was on his lips, and a barrier went up between him and the shattering mirror just as it broke apart into pieces, falling on top of him. Thankfully, nothing hit him, bouncing harmlessly away from his shield.

When Mrs Hacker came in screaming in fright, Regulus did the only thing that would have been normal for a toddler; he started crying too. At least he was right about another thing; that device was watching or listening to him.

Mrs Hacker, bless her heart, stepped onto the glass, though thankfully, her fluffy slippers prevented her from getting hurt, and she pulled him into her arms. Why she sat down in the centre of all the glass, he didn't understand. She could have just scooped him up and away. Regulus could feel her limbs trembling and felt immediately bad for scaring her.

Before Regulus could stop himself, he petted her gently on her cheek and murmured, "gwandmaaa".

Mrs Hacker burst into tears and hugged him closer. "How did you even get out of your cot, dearie? Are you alright?" He was about to murmur platitudes that, of course, he was absolutely fine when suddenly, Regulus felt a stir at the back of his neck and with the way Mrs Hacker stiffened, he wondered if she felt the danger too. Perhaps older people knew when there was trouble. For him, it was just his trust magic. His strong Protego charm must have alerted the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. Or it could have been the magic he had thrown into the mirror and the consequences of that. Without warning, he wrenched himself away from Mrs Hacker and, ignoring the glass, he pulled her to the beds where he had seen a tiny door, likely for linens. Regulus had to give her credit; without fighting him, she helped him into the small enclosure, which was a cupboard as he thought, though thankfully, it was empty. His room must have been empty before he arrived. When he turned around to take in the small cupboard, he suddenly noticed it appeared bigger on the inside. Had he done that? Weren't they trying to avoid doing more magic, accidental or otherwise…When he finally turned to face Mrs Hacker again, she was looking at him wearily as if expecting an explanation. What could he possibly tell her, a Muggle, about their laws and obliviators…?

Inhaling sharply, Regulus looked at her with all the emotion of a legal adult in the Wizarding World and Muggle World alike. Though it sounded ridiculous coming from his stupid toddler-sounding voice. "Bad people are coming, and if they catch us, they will make you forget about your memories and probably take me away," Regulus muttered, working really hard to avoid sounding like a child, and managed barely to refrain from slurring his words.

"Close your eyes, Reggie," she said to him, and obligingly he listened, though he couldn't understand why she would need that; they were hiding, after all.

"Episkey," she whispered.

Regulus' eyes shot open, utterly gobsmacked. He didn't even have to look at his feet to know they had healed. The woman looked warily at him, but he didn't close his eyes again, and she didn't make him.

It was dark in the cupboard, but Regulus was certain her wand was black with a beautiful white curved design, perhaps a Veela addition? Regulus didn't know much about wands and knew better than to ask when he was two.

"Where is the Muggle that needs to be obliviated?" Regulus and Mrs Hacker heard a voice mumble to someone they couldn't see.

"Dunno, search everywhere. The Statute of Secrecy must be upheld!"

"Colloportus", Mrs Hacker breathed, her voice so low that if Regulus weren't looking out for it, he would have missed it completely.

Mrs Hacker wasn't looking at him, but she didn't have to. Regulus knew.

The matron of Littlest Angels Orphan Home was a Witch.

For anyone interested: For obvious reasons, Regulus did not perform an official ritual.

Mutare Nomen: This Latin incantation translates to "change name". It could be used in a ritual where a person recites their old name while holding a special object and then recites this incantation to change their name.

Nomina Arcanum: This incantation is a combination of Latin and English, meaning "secret names". It could be used in a ritual where a character reveals their true name and then recites this incantation to change it.