Yay, I'm back! I started scribbling ideas for my other work in progress, Secrets of the Darkest Art, and suddenly my Muse took off with this bit. I made it as long as I could as an apology for not posting for so long. Hope you enjoy it- and I hope it was worth the wait! For those of you who have read Part 1, the second half of this chapter should look vaguely familiar- I tweaked it, of course, but the scene is the same...

Remus looked up from his habitual cup of morning coffee and gave Sirius and Grace a bemused look as the pair wandered, giggling, into the kitchen. "Good morning," was all he said.

"Mmmm," was Grace's only response as she set about making a pot of tea, but Sirius caught his old friend's eye behind her back and winked. "Morning, Remus. Sleep well?"

Remus kept his smile in place, resisting the urge to whack his old school friend across the back of the head. "Considering," he replied noncommittally. "You?"

"One word and I will happily kill you," Grace told Sirius over her shoulder as she set two steaming cups of tea on the old wooden table. "Remus," she finally acknowledged him. "Any plans for today?"

"Harry's coming by," he replied absentmindedly, skimming the second page of the Daily Prophet. His head buried in the newspaper, he didn't see the look that passed between the others. "Something about Voldemort, I think," he finished, folding the paper to turn the page and catching the look of relief that passed over both of their faces at his words. He rolled his eyes. "I'm certainly not going to tell Harry your business," he said, exasperated. "If you want to, that's your prerogative."

"What business?" Grace asked, looking him over innocently as she stirred a lump of sugar into her mug. "We don't have business."

Remus snorted.

Grace rounded to Sirius. "You told him?" she demanded, annoyed. "It's not even nine o'clock in the morning, Sirius!"

Sirius shrugged and tried to hide behind a sip of tea, scalding his mouth in the process and barely ducking Grace's hand as she swatted at him, deftly grabbing the napkin from her lap in the same movement and holding it to his burning lips. "Ow," was all he said, but at her glare, he continued, "Grace! He's my best friend! And he has like, magic wolf hearing or something."

Grace grimaced, embarrassed. Remus chuckled under his breath, but before he could say anything, a knock sounded at the front door. Grace gave Sirius one final glare before rising elegantly to her feet and swishing down the hallway to welcome Harry, Ron, and Hermione to the house. Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance and a smirk before the group rounded the corner into the kitchen. "Harry!" Sirius boomed happily, sweeping the teenager into a hug. "Good to see you."

"Sirius." Hermione appeared beside Harry's shoulder before the teen could greet his godfather properly. "This isn't a social call, I'm afraid."

"Oh?" Sirius and Remus exchanged looks over Harry's head. "What do you mean, Hermione?"

"We're here about this." Without further fanfare, Hermione pulled a gold locket from her pocket. It hung, dancing on its golden chain, in the air before the group.

Sirius noticed Grace's chin lift almost imperceptibly, as she straightened her shoulders and prepared herself for the conversation that was coming. Harry noticed where he was looking and turned to face Grace. "Do you know something about this?" he asked her. She met Sirius' eyes for a fleeting instant before smiling her pureblood smile- a smile with no real warmth behind it.

"May I see that?" she asked abruptly, reaching out to take the locket from Hermione's fingers. She examined it closely. Recognition flashed across her features before she sighed. "This was mine," she said finally, her voice strained and cold. "Years ago." She handed it back. "Where did you find it?"

"A cave out in the middle of nowhere," Harry supplied, and the teenagers immediately noticed the frozen looks of fear on the adults' faces.

"Um-" Harry started, but Hermione, faster than her friend, turned back to Grace, who was clutching the locket so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. "This was yours?" Hermione's tone was incredulous, but suddenly, a look of dawning comprehension settled on her features. "R.A.B.," she said softly, as if musing over each letter independently.

"What?" Sirius asked abruptly.

He was answered, not by Hermione, but by Grace. "Regulus Arcturus Black," she whispered, her eyes not leaving Hermione's. "Why do you ask?"

Hermione spun around to face Harry, holding her hand out, palm up, as if demanding something. "Give it to me," she ordered, and Harry obediently dug in his pocket and handed her a crumpled scrap of parchment. Hermione turned back to Grace, a sympathetic expression on her face. The others looked on, bewildered, as Hermione explained. "We went to the cave where Regulus died," she said softly. "Well, Harry did. With Dumbledore. They were looking for a locket- Dumbledore believes that Voldemort may have created several Horcruxes to protect his soul from death many, many years ago. The locket was supposed to be in the bottom of a basin, protected by a lot of really powerful enchantments. When they finally retrieved it, this is what they found." She gestured helplessly to the locket that Grace still held tightly in her hand. "There was a note inside." Hermione slowly stretched out her hand and offered the bit of old parchment to Grace, who took it like a person in a dream. She smoothed it out, fingers trembling. She read it slowly, first to herself, her lips moving silently over her husband's last words, and then a second time, out loud.

"To the Dark Lord," she began, her voice, quivering. "I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death-" Here Grace had to stop and draw in several slow, agonized breaths before she could continue. "I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more." She finished in a whisper, barely audible over the sound of the parchment crumbling in her fist, "R.A.B."

Sirius had about half a second's intuition before Grace's face paled and she fainted. Darting quickly around his godson, he grabbed her by the shoulders and sank carefully to the floor, cradling her in his arms. "Grace," he asked uncertainly, but she was beyond hearing him.

Grace stirred under the covers, woken by the sound of a quill scratching against parchment. She sat up, running a hand through her curls and peering across the room. Regulus was sitting in his chair at his desk by the window, wearing nothing but his trousers and boots, and frowning as he wrote. Early morning sunshine was pouring in through the open window, making his dark hair look glossy as a raven's wing. He heard her sit up, and looked up from his work, smiling. "Good morning, love."

"Morning." Grace slipped out of bed and crossed the room on bare feet, the wooden floor cold beneath her toes. Regulus quickly folded up the parchment he was holding and slipped it into his trousers pocket. He sat back in his chair, allowing his wife to clamber into his lap, curling up against his bare chest. He kissed her brown curls and wrapped his arms around her, sighing.

"What's wrong?" Grace mumbled into his shoulder. "You're up so early."

Regulus didn't answer, choosing instead to kiss her temple and murmur, "I love you, Gracie."

Grace sat up, wrapping her arms around his neck and frowning into his grey eyes. "You're acting strange."

He shook his head. "It's nothing for you to worry about, darling. I promise." When she raised an eyebrow, disbelieving, he laughed and kissed her nose. "I told you I would never ask you to become involved in what I do."

"Is it something for the Dark Lord?" she asked, running her fingertips along the edges of the bandage still wrapped around his arm where he had tried to scrub off the Dark Mark.

His face darkened. "Sort of."

She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, knowing not to press the issue. "Be careful?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

Regulus stiffened, but continued to stroke her hair. "As much as I can be," he promised. He sat back and placed his hands on either side of her pale cheeks, and his grey eyes met hers. He tilted his head and kissed her gently, and she responded. Rising to his feet, he held her against his body with his arms as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He laid her down on the bed and began kissing her skin…