Four

Name Calling

It was flight or fight, and Harry was never the type to run away. He gripped the handle of his faithful phoenix feather and holly wand, ready to confront whatever was down there.

Hermione held out her wand. "Hominem Revealo," She whispered into the air and waited for the spell to work. "There's three of them," Hermione said, seeing their images revealed to her in her mind's eye.

"Great. Let's get a move on it!"

Hermione reached out, grabbing Harry before he stormed off. "We can't apparate downstairs. They'd surely hear us," Hermione whispered.

Regulus nodded in agreement.

"Well, it's a good thing that I always carry this with me," Harry pulled out a small purple bag from the inside of his suit jacket.

"A purse?" Regulus raised an eyebrow.

"It's not a purse!" Harry hissed a little louder than he meant to.

"Oh, Harry! You do use my birthday presents!" Hermione squealed.

"So what's with the purse?"

Harry shot another glare in Regulus' direction before turning his eyes back to the bag. He opened the small purple bag and reached deep inside.

After seeing Harry's entire arm disappear into the bag, Regulus finally understood. "Extension charm—I'm impressed."

"We've got Hermione to thank for that," Harry said as he continued feeling around the bag. "What's this?" He pulled out a Honeydukes candy wrapper.

"Oh," Regulus snatched up the wrapper excitedly. "They still make these?"

"Brilliant, you two," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ah, there it is!" Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak.

"Finally, something a little more practical," Hermione said.

Regulus pocketed the candy wrapper then put his hands over the fine silk of the invisibility cloak. "Incredible!"

"What's next then?" Hermione asked.

"Well, we're not all going to fit under it." Harry said. "I'll have to go alone."

Moments later, Harry gently walked down the stairs, holding his hands against the wall for support and straining to hear any noises from the floors below. It was eerily quiet for a house that was supposed to have intruders. Maybe they were slowly working through every room, searching the house for clues or maybe they headed downstairs towards the kitchens first. He doubted they would have left without a confrontation—if they truly were who Harry thought they might be.

There was nothing on the third floor. It was just as abandoned as the way they found it earlier. He slowly continued towards the second floor. There was nothing there as well. A heaviness pressed upon his chest as the anticipation grew with each step. As he descended the stairs between the second and first floors, he slowly crept downwards, leaning against the wall.

"Awe, there ain't nothin' here!"

Harry took one more step just as the voice appeared out of nowhere. It caught him off guard, and he set his foot down in the wrong place. Before he knew it, he was tumbling down the stairs.

"Oye! What was that?"

A furious stampeding of clunky boots rushed toward the stairwell. Harry rolled on the ground while trying to keep himself covered with the cloak, hoping that the darkness and his feeble attempt would somehow conceal him. Luckily, it did. Three men charged up the stairwell, brushing right past Harry face. One step to the left by any of the men would have sent them crashing right into Harry who was hiding against the bend in the stairway. Harry breathed a deep sigh of relief as the intruders reached the second floor and continued on without noticing, but then, he swore aloud to himself. The men were heading straight for Regulus and Hermione. Quickly, he scrambled up from his hiding place and ran up the stairs.

Spells started flying between the second and third floors. The intruders tried to run up the stairwell, but Hermione and Regulus heard them first. They fired two stunning spells, knocking the first intruder backwards and causing the lot to tumble down the stairs.

A crack echoed through the house. Hermione apparated behind the intruders and started furiously firing spells. Another crack—Regulus joined the fray.

"LUMOS!" One of the intruders screamed. All the lights on the second floor flashed brightly, revealing everyone's position. Wands were pointed in all directions.

Hermione was to the left and Regulus was on the right. They faced three men, dressed in whatever dark colored rag-taggedy clothes that they could find—coats, hooded-sweaters, leather jackets, torn up jeans. If it were not for the red ribbon band around each of their left arms, Regulus' attire would match up with their ranks very well.

"Still think there's nothin' here?" The leader of the pack snapped at one of his companions.
"'ow I was I supposta know that?" He whined. "Easily coulda been rats er somethin'."

The leader had dark greasy hair, but his crooked smile was even greasier. Hermione cringed at the sight of his dirty, yellow teeth. She had seen some messed up teeth in her lifetime, seeing as it was that she was the daughter of two dentists, but this man's smile was by far the worst. Her stomach lurched—this wasn't a time to be thinking her parents.

"Well, I s'pose we did find ourselfs some rats." The leader said. "Scabior'll wanna hear about this." He cracked his knuckles. "Might even get a reward outta it."

"Scabior?" Hermione whispered to herself. A nauseating feeling came over her at the thought of his memory.

"Gentlemen," Regulus raised his wand higher, threatening to attack. "I suggest that you leave this place—immediately!"

"This ain't your place! Yer da one that's gone an' broke in!"

Regulus nostrils flared.

Spells fired off again. Regulus shot a non-verbal spell, knocking one of the companions back into the stairwell. The leader took the chance to fire a spell. Regulus spun his body to the right, dodging the curse.

The curse blew a big hole in the floor.

Hermione deflected the spell that came at her from the other companion with lightning fast reflexes. The green bolt of energy bounced off her protective shield and tore through the faded flower wallpaper on the wall.

The leader laughed. "Very good, Mudblood! You musta found yerself a decent witch er wizard ter steal those fancy powers from."

"Watch your mouth, or I'll blast it off for you!" Regulus snapped, pointing his wand threateningly at the leader.

Hermione glanced over at Regulus. "Don't listen to him."

The leader's belly rumbled with laughter. His eyes glanced behind his shoulder for a moment. "Yeah, ya better listen ter yer 'ittle slag before ya get yerself killed!"

Hermione gasped and put a hand over her mouth.

Regulus glanced back and forth between the leader and Hermione for a moment, not fully understanding what was said. "Don't speak to her like that!" He finally declared.

The leader continued to show his toothy grin as his eyes darted back behind him and forward to Regulus. He raised his hands with his wand in a surrendering position. "Whatever ya say, Master."

Regulus' eyebrows hunched over his eyes. "Just keep your mouth shut!"

Harry watched from under the invisibility cloak. There was no point in revealing his position just yet. He gripped the handle of his wand in his sweaty palm watching the scene unfold before him. Regulus looked so much like his older brother when he was angry, Harry thought with a smirk.

Regulus managed to calm himself enough to speak. "You're cornered. Lower your wands and leave this place."

"And dat's what you think! Now, Harper! "

Suddenly, the wall that enclosed the stairwell blew open. Large chunks of wood, brick, and plaster shot forward like a shotgun shell. One of the bits of brick cracked Regulus over the forehead and knocked him backwards. He lost his footing and fell into the large hold blasted into the floor a few moments earlier.

"Regulus!" Hermione yelled.

"Regulus?" The leader's face looked puzzled.

Regulus crashed onto the first floor. A sickening crack followed by a holler of pain filled the house. Dust from the blown plaster and brick wall flew in the air.

"Regulus? Regulus Black?" The leader said. "'ow cannit be?"

Harry threw off his cloak and started haphazardly firing spells through the flying dust. "Hermione, don't let them get away!"

Hermione snapped out of her shock and started shooting off spells. She couldn't see much either, only figures moving around in swirling dust. They were trying to move up the stairs and escape to the third floor. She'd cut them off. Quickly, she apparated up to the third floor. The Snatchers rounded the corner. "Stupefy!" Hermione yelled, throwing her weight into the charm. A blast of light surged out of Hermione's wand and collided with the Snatchers. The three of them took hits across the chest and smacked backwards into the wall.

Harry ran up the stairs. He came upon the three incapacitated bodies on the floor then looked around the corner at Hermione. "Overdone it, much?"

"Serves them right."

Harry chuckled as he gave a flick of his wand. Soon, the three men were bound in neatly tied ropes. "We'll take care of them later. We better get downstairs."

"Regulus!" Hermione quickly apparated out of sight. Harry followed.

Down on the first floor, Regulus damaged body lay in a pile of debris while Kreacher sat next to his master, beating himself over the head with a brick. Hermione appeared before them and then Harry shortly after.

"Kreacher, what are you doing?" Harry exclaimed.

"Kreacher didn't protect Master Regulus! It's all Kreacher's fault!"

Hermione wrestled the brick out of the house-elf's hand. "Kreacher, stop! You mustn't hurt yourself like this!"

Kreacher crumpled up onto the ground. "Master is alive, but poor Kreacher failed him!"

Hermione tossed the brick aside then knelt down next to Regulus. He was out cold. Blood trickled down the man's face from a deep gash over his forehead. "Kreacher, we need your help. He's hurt."

"Yes, yes," The house-elf sniffled. "Kreacher will help. Kreacher will help Master." Quickly, Kreacher set to work cleaning the blood off his master's face with his own pathetic excuse for clothing. "Kreacher is very sorry, Master. If Master wouldn't have forbade it, Kreacher would punish himself. But Kreacher already did punish himself some already so Kreacher really should punish himself some more, but Master forbade it."

Harry cast a strange look towards Hermione as he listened to the house-elf mutter quietly to himself. Hermione only gave him one of her looks.

"It's not as bad as I thought," Hermione said once the blood was cleaned up. She waved her wand gently over Regulus' forehead, snitching up his wound.

"His leg looks a bit odd, don't you think?" Harry said, looking at Regulus lower leg. "How is your bone mending spell?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, I've read about it…so in theory…" She shook her head. "I shouldn't."

"Awe, come on. You can't be as bad as Professor Lockhart." Harry smirked.

"I suppose you're right." She said, chuckling. She remembered how one of their professors at Hogwarts, Gilderoy Lockhart, tried to mend Harry's broken arm after a Quidditch match. Instead, Lockhart removed Harry's arm bones altogether!

Harry held up the same arm that he had to have his bones regrow within the course of a night. "At least we know they can grow back if you get it wrong."

Hermione stood up, cleared her throat, and waved her wand over Regulus leg. "Spathula Emendo!" Slowly, the bent leg started to move then swiftly it cracked back into place. Regulus woke up, flying upwards with a yell.

"Master, be careful!" Kreacher put his hands over Regulus' chest. "You've been hurt!"

Regulus frantically glanced around for a moment, noticing himself lying in a pile of rubble. "I fell and then…" He reached up and touched his painful forehead. "I must have passed out."

"We heard your leg snap from upstairs." Harry said with a slightly disgusted look on his face. "Not a pretty sound."

"I attempted to mend your leg. I don't know how well…"

Regulus gently shuffled his legs. "I think I'm okay." He slowly sat up and regained his strength for a moment.

"We've got the three blockheads tied up," Harry said. "They're taken care of for now."

Regulus nodded. He pondered for a minute before speaking. "What's a slag?" He received his answer by the furious blush that came over Hermione's face.

Harry cleared his throat and tugged on the collar of his shirt. "I suppose you could say that it refers to a woman who…well…you see…actually…it could mean…"

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Hermione said, red faced. "He called me a whore!"

"That flithy…!" Regulus tried to stand up too quickly and fell back down into the pile of rubble.

"Master!" Kreacher caught the larger man and helped him lay back down. "You mustn't get up too quickly."

Regulus held his hand over his forehead. "Yes, I see that."

"You alright?" Harry asked.

"A bit lightheaded, that's all."

"How about your leg?" Hermione asked.

Regulus shifted his leg again. "It doesn't hurt anymore, thanks to you." He then looked up at Hermione. "Any other talents I should know about?"

Hermione humbly shrugged her shoulders and looked away. "Happy to help."

"You're going to have to put some more of those talents to use before the night is over, Hermione," Harry said, darkly. "Those Snatchers upstairs," He paused as Regulus and Hermione turned their full attention to him. "…they recognized you." He looked at Regulus.

"How? What happened?"

"Well, your name anyway," Harry continued.

Hermione gasped and put her hands over her mouth. "It's my fault! I said your name when you fell!"

"And it's not like there are any other Reguluses wandering around Diagon Alley these days," Harry said.

Regulus reached up and rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I'm sorry. I should have known better…" He trailed off.

Hermione looked at Regulus, studying him for a moment as he spoke to himself.

"Master, there there." Kreacher took ahold of Regulus' hand and patted it.

"We better get up there and change their memories before they wake up." Harry nodded towards Hermione. "That's another one of her talents."

"Hmmm," Regulus nodded, "A little frightening," he said with a lighter, teasing tone.

A few moments later, Harry, Hermione, Regulus, and Kreacher headed upstairs on foot, testing out Regulus' repaired leg. When they reached the top of the third floor, Harry released the three prisoners from the binds he placed on them earlier. Hermione took a moment to concentrate before she performed the spell. She had to think of a believable memory to replace the true events that happened here. When she was ready, she softly muttered the incantation and twisted her wand back and forth, pulling out memories and replacing them with false ones. Harry and Regulus watched quietly as she worked.

"There," She said, a bit down. She always hated performing that spell, even if it was for a good cause. "It's done."

"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said, knowing how she felt about that particular spell.

Hermione nodded. "They now believe that they stumbled upon some common thieves and had an altercation with them in which they lost. The thieves managed to escape."

"Sounds good enough," Harry said.

Harry, Hermione, Regulus, and Kreacher left the mansion and headed to the park across the street. Soon, the four of them were sitting on the park benches while staring back at number 12 Grimmauld Place for what seemed like hours on end.

"Why do you think they were watching the house?" Harry asked, breaking the silence that had lingered among them for so long.

Hermione shook her head. "They knew we used to meet here. I suppose they've been keeping watch on it ever since."

Regulus was standing, leaning against a large oak. He seemed unfazed by the cold. "I once believed that destroying the Dark Lord would bring an end of all of this."

"So did I," Harry admitted bitterly.

Hermione sighed, watching her breath float away into the cold night air. Harry sighed after her as well.

Regulus stood up from the tree. "I suppose this is where we say goodbye."

"What?" Hermione turned sharply. "What do you mean?"

Regulus glanced away. "I've served my purpose here today."

"I thought you were going to help us," Harry said, sharply.

"And so I have," Regulus said. "But now the time for me to go has come."

"So, what? You're just going to run away like some coward?" Harry snapped.

"I'm not running away!" Regulus snapped back.

"Master," Kreacher uttered, looking lost.

Hermione gently positioned herself between the two men. "Keep your voices down! You'll wake up the entire neighborhood!"

"Sirius died fighting for what was right!" Harry blurted out.

"I'm not Sirius!"

"Clearly!"

"Harry!" Hermione snapped.

The scowl on Regulus' face could kill, but he said nothing.

"If you don't stand up and do anything, then you haven't changed a bit!"

Soon, a dark wand was pointed at Harry's face.

"What are you doing?" Harry held up his hands.

"Regulus, please." Hermione pleaded as she saw the anger in his eyes. She glanced over at Harry who looked just as furious. "Please calm down. Both of you are really upset right now."

"Master Regulus?" Kreacher gulped.

The howling wind was the only sound between them for a few moments. Regulus slowly lowered his wand as he found his words. "You have no idea what I've been through, Potter." He turned his back and began to walk away.

Harry let his hands fall to his side.

After a few steps in the snow, Regulus stopped, but did not turn around. "And I think you should know, Potter, that my brother could be one of the biggest arses you could ever meet."

Harry smirked. "I already knew that."

"It was good to see you, Kreacher. Please, take care of yourself," Regulus said.

"Kreacher is happy to see Master as well."

"Regulus," Hermione called, reaching out her hand, but he had already apparated from them.

Harry let loose a frustrated groan. "Unbelievable!"

"Master?" Kreacher's eyes started to water.

Hermione rounded on Harry. "You had to start an argument, didn't you?"

"What? Me?" Harry looked frustratingly puzzled. "You can't tell me that you're not the least bit upset? The guy drags us to this place, we get attacked, and then he just decides to abandon us?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned away.

Harry sighed. "Look, it's been a long day. Let's just call it a night." Harry's mood lightened some. "I'll check on you tomorrow, alright?"

Hermione nodded in agreement.

Harry apparated out of sight.

"Goodbye, Kreacher," Hermione said before noticing the house-elf was in tears. She knelt down and put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll see Regulus again."

The house-elf quickly brushed away his tears. "Kreacher must be getting back to the castle now. There's lots of work to be done." He snapped his fingers, leaving Hermione alone.

She sighed and then apparated back home. Seconds later, she appeared back in her living room at the cottage in Hogsmeade. She waved her wand and the lights flared up. As the lights came on, she saw a big ginger cat sitting on the sofa looking very content.

"And where have you been?" She asked her pet cat, Crookshanks. She took a seat next to him and starting scratching the top of his head. He hadn't been home in three days, but that wasn't unusual for him. She sighed again and looked around the living room. "You've sure missed all the excitement around here."

Her eyes lazily glanced around the room. Hours earlier, the place looked like a tornado tore through, but it was all back to normal now, as if nothing happened—except for the small glint of silver on the end-table across the room. She got up from the sofa and headed across the room. There was a silver ring on the end-table. She picked it up and examined it. A family crest was engraved into the front of the ring and even the family motto "Toujours pur", as tiny as it was, was carved finely into the metal so that it was perfectly legible. She titled the band, look on the inside, and read the initials aloud. "R. A. B."

Once again, her mind was brought back to Regulus Arcturus Black.

The waxing gibbous moon glowed brightly in the night sky. The faint traces of clouds reflected the moon's light as well, illuminating the countryside. The air was cold, crisp, and numbing against the skin.

A man with gnarly brown hair, tattered clothing, and a red ribbon around his left arm stood among the ruins of an old farmhouse barn. Half the ceiling was missing, allowing the moonlight to pour inside. He exhaled, watching his frozen breath mixed with the smoke from his pipe float up to the heavens.

Three cracks, one right after another, broke the silence of the still night. The man didn't bother to look and see who it was. "It's 'bout time," He uttered.

"Aye, sorry boss." One of the men said, removing his wool cap out of respect. "We got caught up, ya see."

The man turned sharply towards the newcomers. "Nah, I don' see! 've lost track uh 'ow many damn 'ours I been waitin'!"

"I told ya 'e'd be fumin'!"

The men started arguing amongst themselves.

The man with the pipe reached up and rubbed his aching forehead. While he was used to working with idiots such as these, he wasn't used to being up this late in the night. "'ould one of ya stupid fools tell me what 'appened?"

The three men stopped fighting amongst themselves. The leader began to tell their tale—they went to check on the old Black House, there didn't seem to be anything there, but then they found some robbers.

"And so we fought with 'em for a bit, but they gots the best off us," The leader of the gang admitted. "Really, sorry, about it, Mr. Scabior. Really, sorry."

The man with the pipe stood quite for a moment, pondering the story. His name was Scabior, leader of the Snatchers. As the Dark Lord returned to power a second time, Scabior cast his lot with Voldemort. During the second wizarding war, he served as leader of the Snatchers gang—a group dedicated to rounding up mud-bloods and squibs. He was just doing his part to making the wizarding world a pure one—being really good at his job was just a perk.

"Thieves, you say?" Scabior said, a curious note in his voice.

"Aye, boss, thieves."

Scabior pondered a moment longer. "What did they look like? How many were there?"

As odd as it was, the leader of the small gang didn't feel like he could answer right away. He thought about for a moment, feeling and seeing such a blurry haze in his mind's eye. "There were two of them," He finally said.

"What'd they look like?"

Again, the man had a small bit of trouble recalling the details, yet he was able to produce some vague answer after a moment.

For a few more minutes, Scabior continued to cross-examine the men, but seemed unsatisfied with any of the answers they presented. When he seemed to be finished, he merely reached up and stroked the thin beard on his dirty face.

"Can we go now?" One of the men asked.

Scabior shook his head. "You boys are comin' with me. The Dark Lady will wanna hear 'bout this."