TWO

Out from the Grave

Dark robes swished up and down the corridors as Death Eaters poured into the castle. Hermione brandished her wand furiously, trying to stop them from gaining ground. Soon, she found herself locked in battle with one of them.

The metallic mask on her opponent betrayed no expression. He fired off some of the most horrible and gruesome hexes and spells known in their world, but Hermione kept her poise and defended herself well.

After a firestorm of spells and incantations, the Death Eaters started slowing down, being more cautious about pushing forward. She ducked as one of them went flying through the air thanks to one of Ron's spells. Oliver Wood quickly took out another.

Suddenly, the castle rumbled. Pieces of the tapestry above crumbled and fell to the ground. Hermione spun around to check on her friends behind her.

"Are you alright?" She screamed to the others. They seemed to be okay. They were just getting their bearings.

"AVADA…KEDAVRA!"

Hermione turned her head at those dreaded words. There was nothing she could do.

A beam of green light came for her, ready to embrace her in cold death. She merely had time to blink her sweet brown eyes before they would be closed forever.

But death did not come. He stepped in front of her. His strength quietly faded away as he fell backwards into her arms, lifeless.

She dropped to her knees from the weight of his body falling. "Ron? Ron? Ronald?! Ronald, wake up! Wake up!" She screamed at him. "Wake up, Ron!" She raised her eyes to the ceiling and screamed as counter-attacks sent by her friends whizzed over her head.

Hermione suddenly jolted awake. She wasn't in the castle anymore. She blinked for a few moments, trying to get her bearings. Her eyes fell on the old worn out material of the green couch that she was laying on. Sunlight poured onto her face from the window just above. She was in her home. It took her a few more moments to realize that something wasn't normal about this. Where was her wand?

She shifted away from the back of the couch to look around the room. Out of one eye, she saw her wand lying on the end table next to the couch. From the other eye, she saw a man sitting in one of the armchairs, reading a book. She gasped and sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around her. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?" She shrilled.

He smirked.

She felt herself pushing farther and farther away from the stranger that she felt like she might fall off the side of the couch, but she kept her eyes on him the entire time. He was young yet he had a formidable presence about him. He appeared fairly tall, well-built, and grown up enough to have a bit of stubble. His skin was darkened from the light of the sun, and the scar that ran over his right eye and through his brow told that he was capable of tangling with dangerous things and surviving. His lustrous black hair was shaggy and unkept, just sweeping below his eyes. His grey eyes seemed to glow in contrast to his other dark features.

The stranger paid more attention to the book than to her.

"I asked you a question!"

"I must say that, you, Miss Granger, have excellent taste in books." He snapped the book shut with one hand and then looked up at her.

Hermione shrugged while her cheeks started to turn rosy pink. "Well, I'm quite fond of…" She shook her head. "Excuse me! I asked you about what you're doing here, not your opinion on my library! And how do you know my name anyway?"

The stranger held up the book and pointed to the sticker that read Property of Miss Hermione Jean Granger on the front.

"Oh."

The stranger smirked.

Hermione's eyes glanced back to her wand for a brief second.

The man sighed gently. "Please, don't. I'd rather not tangle with you after the injuries you sustained early this morning."

Hermione looked down at herself. Her arms and legs were wrapped in bandages. "You bandaged me?" She noticed she was wearing a set of pajamas. "And you changed my clothes?" She nearly choked on her embarrassment.

The man held up his wand. "I let the wand do the work. And it was dark."

"So you're a wizard then." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "That still doesn't explain how you managed to get in here. Do you have any idea just how many protection charms…?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." He said with a smirk. "But there are ways around things like that."

Hermione pondered for a moment then quoted a classic school textbook, "Protection Charms may be easier to break if the one attempting to break the charm has good reasoning or intentions for doing so."

"And there you go," The man said.

"So then, I owe you my gratitude." Her arms were still crossed. "But I don't even know who you are."

"And there's no need to know." The man stood up from his chair and headed towards the coats hanging on the wall.

"Wait a minute!" Hermione stood up from the couch. She watched as the stranger quickly dressed into his winter clothes. "You come here, break into my house, and…
"And save your life," He added while slipping into his black work boots.

"…yes, and that, only to run away?" Hermione hissed.

"Yes, that about sums it all up."

Hermione turned sharply, hoping to grab her wand and catch the stranger off guard, but as her hand came down on the end table, the wand was already knocked behind the table from the power of a non-verbal spell.

She looked over at him holding his wand out with a stern, yet haughty and proud, look on his face. She stood up slowly as her brow furrowed.

"What?"

"You remind me of someone," Hermione said, cocking her head to the side.

The man lowered his wand, sensing that she wasn't going to attack anymore. "Oh, really? Who?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's not important." She sat back down on the couch. "He was prone to being a complete arse anyway," She muttered, rolling her eyes, as she looked away to fold up the blanket left on the couch.

"Now I'm curious."

"We're all just so curious, aren't we?"

That elicited a smirk from the stranger. "Have it your way then."

They were silent for a few moments as they looked at one another. The man before her was quite the mystery. Something about him gave off the air of casual elegance, yet the clothes he wore said anything but elegance. He wore a black trapper hat with grey fur lining, a short black jacket over his faded sweater, a pair of patched up grey khakis, and short black work boots. He held his at ease wand at his side; it too was dark, like him. It was difficult to see from that distance, but Hermione thought it might be made of a dark pine wood.

A faint popping sound interrupted the silence. Hermione's eyes flew wide open. Before she could even think to yell stop, spells were flying through the living room!

"Stupify!" Harry roared.

"Protego!" The strange countered. The force of the two spells colliding sent stacks of books and tumbling to the floor.

"Stupify!" Harry lunged forward, casting again.

More spells slammed into the bookshelves built into the wall. Books rained down on the stranger's head. The stranger quickly countered with his own spells. Harry took a blow to the shoulder; the spell knocking him back into the wall. Angrily, Harry quickly leapt forward and shot one of his own spells at the intruder. The coffee table came up and flew straight at the stranger, nearly tripping him. All the meanwhile, Hermione voice shrilled as she yelled at the pair to cease immediately.

"Expellimarus!" They both yelled exactly the same time, lunging for one another. Both wands flew out their owner's hand and landed in the opposite corners of the room. Soon, fists flew furiously as the two men tried desperately to overcome one another.

"Enough!" Hermione screamed. Something akin to a force-field bubble erupted between the two men, sending them both flying. Harry crashed into the wall again while the stranger slammed into the bookcases built into the wall. "That's enough!"

"Who the hell is that?" Harry demanded to know, while wiping the blood from his lip.

Hermione looked over at the stranger as he wearily pushed the books off himself. "Well, um…"

"It's none of your damn business!"

"Hermione," Harry ignored the stranger and turned toward his longtime friend. "Who is he?"

Hermione cringed. "Well, you see, I…don't know."

"Hermione! Why are you letting strangers into the house?"

"I didn't let him in!" She shrilled. "Besides, I don't need you to tell me what to do, Harry!"

"What are you—her boyfriend or something?" The stranger asked.

"No!" The both of them yelled at the stranger.

The stranger just held up his hands in defeat and let the two continue fighting.

"Well, does somebody want to tell me what's going on here?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I apparate in here and the first thing I see is you bandaged up and some stranger lurking around!"

"I wasn't lurking!"

"This really isn't any of your business…" Harry turned towards the stranger to get a good look at him. Harry cocked his head to the side.

"What?" The stranger brow furrowed.

The hardened expression on Harry's face softened within moments, making the stranger even more uncomfortable. A small gasp escaped Harry's lips. "It can't be." He took a step forward.

Hermione eyes darted back and forth between the pair. Did Harry think the same thing that she did earlier?

"Sirius?" Harry's emotions betrayed him. Sirius was dead. He knew that. Nothing could bring the dead back to the living—absolutely nothing—but there was something about this man that triggered the memory of his godfather.

The stranger clenched his fists, and his dark brow furrowed. "How do you know that name?" He asked, sternly.

Hermione came forward, stepping in between the two men. She held onto her wand, but kept it lowered. "Who are you?" She asked the stranger, gently.

The stranger closed his eyes and sighed while turning his head away from them. "My name is Regulus Arcturus Black."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "How…how…is that possible?"

Harry blinked furiously. Regulus Black was dead. How was it possible for a dead man to be standing here in front of them? "You're lying!" Harry scowled. "Regulus Black is dead!"

"I thought so too," The stranger said.

Harry was still angry, but Hermione, intrigued by that statement, took a seat on the couch in the torn apart living room. "Please sit down," She said civility.

The stranger looked around at the disastrous state of the room. His civility and manners came back to him, and he graciously accepted the offer. Harry as well plopped down into an armchair and wearily sunk into it.

"We believed Regulus Black to be long deceased. Would you explain to us how it is possible for a claim such as yours to be true?"

An air of haughtiness came over the stranger. "I am Regulus Black. I shouldn't have to prove my name to anyone. I am a descendant of one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain."

"Sounds like something he'd say," Harry said, flatly.

"Humor us," Hermione said.

"Fine," The stranger waved his hand in a casual manner. "What do you wish to know?"

Harry shot up. "First you better tell me what you're doing here, and what happened to her!" He motioned his hand towards Hermione.

"Harry," Hermione put her hand on Harry's forearm to calm him. "He saved my life."

"What?" Harry looked back and forth between Hermione and the stranger. "What happened?"

Hermione began the story. "I left the Three Broomsticks the Hogwarts Christmas party ended. It was pretty late. I was walking home, and then some men started yelling at me."

"What did they say?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "They called me a Mudblood. They said that it was my fault they were in the sorry state they were in. They were upset that the Dark Lord was defeated."

"Death Eaters?" Harry frowned.

Hermione shook her head. "No, maybe former Snatchers, but not Death Eaters." She took a moment to regain her posture. There were four of them. I dueled them for a few moments, but one of them, he…" She paused for a moment, feeling a wave on nausea come over her.

"He used the Cruciatus curse on her," Regulus spoke up. "I saw the exchange of spells in the distance, and I came closer to inspect. I chose to intervene after I realized what was happening."

Harry turned and faced Hermione. "Are you alright? Are you in any pain?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm okay now. I'm just a little stunned, that's all."

"Why do you think they attacked you?" Harry said. "What made them so bold as to…"

"Or why the Cruciatus curse was able to be performed in Hogmeade, a village under spell limits put in place by the Ministry of Magic." Regulus leaned forward in his chair.

Harry turned his attention towards Regulus. "Why are you here? Why did you help her? Who are you really?

"I told you," Regulus' dark eyebrows hunched over his grey eyes. "My name is Regulus Arcturus Black!"

"Would you tell us what happened to you when you entered the cave and how eventually you came to us?" Hermione asked. "We know what you did. You managed to find a Horcrux, and you sought to destroy it. We all believed that you lost your life in the attempt."

Regulus nodded as he calmed down. "Yes, I knew that the Dark Lord had to be stopped. As I put all the pieces of the puzzle together, as I followed all the clues, I was certain that what he created and intended to put in that cave was a Horcrux. I tirelessly researched the magic behind this dark object. If it could be destroyed, then perhaps there would be a chance at defeating the Dark Lord."

"He's dead!" Harry snapped. "Why don't you just say his name?"

"I know he's dead!" Regulus hissed.

Hermione shot a dirty look over at Harry before turning her attention back to Regulus. "Please continue."

"I wasn't sure what would await me when I entered the cave. I only had the reports of a dear friend of mine…"

"Kreacher?" Hermione spoke, intrigued that the man referred to a house elf as a 'dear friend.'

"You know Kreacher?" Regulus about leapt out of his chair.

"Surly house elf? Yeah, we know him," Harry said.

Regulus laughed. "Yes, you know him! Is he alive? Where is he?"

Hermione couldn't help herself, and she smiled from all the joy and enthusiasm that broke forth in the room. "Yes, he's alive. He works over at the castle." She turned to Harry. "Harry, why don't you call him?"

"After the story," Harry said.

Regulus' enthusiasm died down. He sighed at the annoyance, but continued the story anyway. "Kreacher had been in the cave before. The Dark Lord took him there. I took Kreacher with me, and I sought to take the locket for myself." Regulus paused for a moment, trying to gain his bearings from reliving a painful memory. "I drank of the potion that Voldemort left behind, and that is when the horror began."

Harry remembered his own experience there. His insides cringed at the memory of having to force-feed Dumbledore that awful potion.

"Kreacher was able to obtain the locket after I had consumed the potion. I was so thirsty that I thought I would die without water. I dropped to my knees and put my cupped hands into the lake." He had to pause again. "And that was what triggered the inferi."

Harry shifted in his seat, feeling like he was reliving the moment.

"There were too many of them. I ordered Kreacher to leave." Regulus lowered his head. "It had been years since I'd given Kreacher any orders, but I knew I had to command him. If I wouldn't have, he never would have left my side."

Tears rolled down Hermione's cheeks.

"The inferi pulled me into the water with them. I thought I would drown and die—perhaps become one of them—but oh no." A knot of emotion balled up in Regulus' throat. "That would be too compassionate for the Dark Lord. Being taken under by the inferi was like drinking that potion all over again. I remained in a state between life and death, tortured with the memories of past, present, and…" He couldn't continue.

Harry and Hermione were silent for a few moments before any of them could even work up the strength to ask a question. Finally, Harry cleared his throat and spoke up, "How did you manage to get here then?"

It took Regulus a moment to gain the strength to answer. "I felt like it had been an eternal nightmare, like the Dark Lord's own personal Azkaban from which I could not escape. Then finally, something strange occurred. The inferi lost their power and sunk to the bottom. I was no longer in their grasp. The horrible images that tortured me suddenly faded away. It took me a while to gain my complete consciousness, but I managed it. I swam to the surface. I barely had any strength left in my bones, but I was able to find my way of the cave after a few days."

"That must have been the moment he died, Harry," Hermione said. "All the magic he had placed in the cave disappeared the moment you finally ended his life."

Regulus nodded. "That is correct. When I had recovered more, I secretly returned to civilization to see what had happened." Regulus looked down at his lap. "I discovered that almost 20 years had passed, yet I still barely looked a day over 18. I was trapped between life and death, in the Dark Lord's twisted spells, for near two decades."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Harry asked.

"I needed to understand what happened before I went around revealing myself. I suspect that most people would have thought I was mad, not terribly unlike your own reaction."

Harry nodded, agreeing.

"I see that you managed to defeat the Dark Lord, but I must admit that I am hard pressed to find information on how you actually did it. It also appears to me that even though you managed to defeat him, the world is not a safe place as of yet."

Both Harry and Hermione nodded. The war had not been as victorious as they had hoped.

"I think the fact that your friend here found herself on the receiving end of the Cruciatus curse while in the middle of Hogsmeade testifies to the fact that those in power are not as virtuous as we would like them to be."

"What are you trying to say?" Harry asked. "Are you on our side?"

"I think that should be obvious."

"You were a Death Eater," Harry said. "Just because you had a row with Voldemort doesn't mean that you've forsaken all your pure-blood mania."

"If that were the case, I don't believe I would have intervened concerning your Muggle-born friend here."

"Yes, why did you intervene?" Harry asked. "You don't even know her."

Regulus pursed his lips. Grey eyes darted over to the girl on the couch for a second before they narrowed and looked over at the suspicious man on the other side of the room. "Does a man need a reason for helping besides that it is the right thing to do?" He stood up from his chair, clearly offended. "From the moment I left that despicable cave, I have done nothing except train myself and seek answers so that I could reverse the damage that I was once a part of creating." He tugged on his coat, pulling it tighter around himself. "Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to find my friend."

"Harry," Hermione chided. "Please. Call Kreacher for him."

"Fine," Harry said. "But I think he better go upstairs for a while. Seeing him could give Kreacher a heart attack or something."

"Upstairs?" Hermione squeaked. The entire upstairs loft was her bedroom.

"Where else is he going to go? The closet?" Harry said, "Just take him upstairs for a few minutes while I explain things to Kreacher."

Hermione cringed. "Alright," She stood up and motioned for Regulus to follow her. She headed over to the stairs and slowly climbed upwards. At the top of the stairs, there was a beautifully carved wooden door. Hermione gasped the old brass handle and turned it. She led Regulus into the upstairs loft—her bedroom.

(PAGE BREAK)

The old house elf found comfort in scrubbing the marble hallway of one of the forgotten corners of Hogwarts castle. While this was his new home and he did find pleasure in working here, the elf still did desire frequent bouts of solitude.

As he dipped his hand into the bucket of soapy water, he felt his master calling him from a distance. Immediately, he apparated out of sight, leaving behind a half washed floor.

Kreacher appeared before Harry Potter inside a small wood built cabin that he had never seen before. He looked around at the complete disaster that blew up in the living room. Kreacher looked at Harry, expecting an order to clean it up.

"How are you, Kreacher?"

"Master Potter called?"

"Yes, yes, I did." Harry sat up in his chair. "I have some good news for you."

The house elf looked at his master curiously.

Harry didn't know how to begin the conversation. As he searched for the right words, he noticed the locket resting upon Kreacher's chest—the locket that once belonged to Regulus. When Kreacher and Regulus went to the Crystal Cave to steal Voldemort's horcrux, they left behind that locket as a fake replacement. Harry reached out and took the locket in his hand.

Harry's relationship with Kreacher had improved so much that the house elf didn't seem to mind Harry touching his most valued possession. Kreacher only waited for his master to speak.

"This locket has quite the story, doesn't it?" Harry said.

The house elf agreed with a nod.

"Kreacher, I have something to tell you. Regulus, Regulus Black, we all thought that he was lost to us…"

The old house elf was visibly starting to get emotional at the sound of Regulus' name.

"…he's alive, Kreacher. Regulus is alive."