A/N 1: I do apologise for the long wait for this chapter. My mother is currently in the hospital, and a lot of shit just prevented me from actually doing anything.

A/N 2: The first part of this story is almost done. Part 2 will be First Year at Hogwarts.

A/N 3: Please enjoy the chapter and bless me with your thoughts and comments 3

The ambience of the room underwent a sudden shift when Sala began speaking. It was as if the room had ears to listen to the magic of what Sala was implying. A blood bond? What was Sala thinking?

It was clear that Sala, though inviting Harry, didn't feel the same way about him as he felt about Regulus. They cared about Harry, but Sala always took the time to find comfort in another person, mainly Regulus. As Harry had only been there for a year, it was possibly the reason for this, but Sala never shared. That wasn't to say, of course, that Sala didn't care, and he would include the smaller boy just because they had become a trio and that in itself was something that Regulus knew Sala valued. They were always together, and everyone in the orphanage knew it. Although Ursa had been around longer than Harry, he never really became a part of their group. Sure, he hung around and joined the three of them in bed when he had a nightmare. It was no longer the same fort as when Harry first arrived, as their three separate beds remained that way. But Regulus, as the oldest (and the one with the most knowledge), would frequently and wandlessly enlarge his bed just in case Sala or Harry wanted to crawl in during the night, and he often found himself with someone in his bed the following morning.

Regulus sat at the edge of the circle Sala had put them in, his eyes fixed on said boy, who still held the knife poised in his hand. Sala had sliced through his skin with ease that alarmed him. Despite Sala being raised by a house elf, Regulus wondered if it was a learned behaviour. He would have thought it possible if it was Kreacher or his mother, but Talby didn't give off that impression.

A frown etched across Regulus' face, a mixture of concern and wariness. He knew Sala's impulsive nature often led him down treacherous paths, but this ritual held stakes far more significant than any they had thus far encountered, at least in this life.

"Sala," Regulus called out, his voice laced with an undercurrent of panic, though he kept it well hidden. "Are you sure about this? Creating a blood-brother bond is no trivial matter, and it's a bond forged in blood, a pact that carries consequences beyond what we can fathom."

Sala's gaze met Regulus', his eyes revealing determination and uncertainty. The fire's flickering glow cast dancing shadows upon his face as he tried to steady his voice.

"I understand the weight of this decision, Regulus," Sala replied, his tone tinged with defiance and vulnerability. "But our friendship might get fractured if Narcissa forces me to leave—"

Regulus noticed Harry raising his eyebrows at this but kept his eyes focused on Sala.

"—and I believe this ritual could mend that. If we are bonded, Narcissa can't separate us, right?"

Sala looked at him with such desperation that Regulus felt his heart clench painfully. He definitely wasn't wrong. Bonded people needed to stay together as frequently as possible.

"Well, I'm game." Harry smiled softly at Sala, holding out his palm.

Regulus sighed, the weight of his years upon his face. Though if anyone looked surface deep, they would merely see an almost ten-year-old glaring at his roommates. He had seen the devastating aftermath of misguided choices and the irreversible consequences they wrought. Regulus himself had done so with the Dark Lord's Horcrux, which was definitely something he wasn't going to do a second time. He wasn't even in the correct timeline. Was it still there? Had his coming here after drowning ruined his chances to fix the Wizarding World? The only consolation was the fact that at least he had died after attempting to protect everyone else rather than before. It had to count for something.

"But Sala, this path you tread is riddled with danger," Regulus tried again, trying and failing to glare at Harry, who looked happy just being involved. Despite his voice laden with a lifetime of wisdom, Sala waved away his words. "Look, if you don't want to be my brother, you don't have to." Sala's voice was cold, colder than he had ever heard, making his adult mind shiver. Regulus was sure he saw his eyes flash red, too, but shook his head. The only person with red eyes he had ever seen was dead. Or so he hoped.

"There are forces in this world we can't comprehend, and by invoking such ancient rites, we invite powers beyond our control. What if this bond doesn't work but instead hurts us further somehow? What if it opens doors we cannot close?"

Sala's grip on the knife tightened, his eyes darting between Regulus and Harry, waiting for the decision.

Regulus could see Sala grappling with his words, torn between his desire to bind them with something more than friendship and the apprehension that swelled within him.

"I... I just want to help," Sala confessed, his voice cracking with emotion. "I can't stand by and watch us possibly drift apart. I know she won't come here again once she takes me. She'll train me to be a typical pureblood with Draco and pretend the three of you never existed in my life. And I thought that you, of all people, Laurie, would have accepted, considering all we went through."

Regulus stepped closer to Sala, his voice gentle but firm, wrapping his arms around the other boy, who practically melted at his touch, leaning his head against Regulus' taller frame.

"I understand your intentions, Sala, but sometimes the greatest help we can offer is to let others find their own path," Regulus said, placing a reassuring hand on Sala's hair and carding his fingers through the boy's straight locks. "True bonds are not forged by force; they must be built upon trust, closeness, love and mutual growth. Perhaps we could talk to Narcissa instead of meddling with ancient rituals?" Regulus asked, attempting to get his point across to Sala, who wasn't listening.

"You sound like an adult," Harry moaned, waving his hands dramatically. "Can you just be a kid like us and do this? I want this just as much as Sala does. I'm a nobody! I want to be loved and a part of something…."

Fuck.

His words seemed to have gone in one ear and out the other. Truthfully, he wanted this too. To be connected to the two boys he already loved and cared for, they had grown so much on him that if Narcissa took him away, Regulus wasn't sure he'd survive.

Sala's grip on the knife loosened, and he glanced back at Regulus and Harry, whose faces were etched with tension and uncertainty.

"You're right, Regulus," Sala admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and remorse. "I've been blind to the risks, blinded by my desperation to bring us all together and make us stronger…." Sala looked crushed, and when Regulus peeked at Harry, he saw the boy looked broken too. It was almost like the day he arrived, except he wasn't physically damaged too.

Regulus nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Stop, Sala." He pulled Sala closer to him, inhaling the other boy's scent. He wasn't going to give up the family he had made here. "I'll do it."

And then, to put a cherry on top, he added: "Wisdom lies not only in knowing when to act but also when to step back," he said. "However, in this case, you're right."

"Adult talk!" Harry yelled.

Regulus smiled fully this time and gently removed Sala from his lap, kissing his forehead when Sala pouted at him.

"What about Ursa?" Sala asked once he made himself comfortable in the circle.

"No." Regulus and Ursa said together.

"Regulus is already my brother," Ursa said matter of factly. "I don't think doing a brother bond on top of that would work out very well."

"Such a Ravenclaw," Regulus muttered fondly.

"Ravenclaw?" Harry asked predictably.

"House name," Regulus responded but didn't clarify.

As the moon continued its silent vigil above, Regulus and Harry waited patiently for Sala to make the next move.

"Alright," Sala began, looking around at them, seemingly uncaring that his palm was still dripping blood.

Though Regulus thought, I didn't notice either when I held him. When he peeked down, he saw he was indeed covered in Sala's blood. Sala placed a bowl in the centre and let his blood drip into it. Air slowly drifted around the room that wasn't there before, warm like a breeze on a summer's day.

As the winds swept over him, Regulus almost tasted the magic in them. Their breaths mingled with eagerness as they sat in the dimly lit confines of their shared room within the orphanage. Sala's eyes appeared to sharpen, and once more, a flash of red coloured his eyes as he pressed his hand to the bowl. The air seemed to crackle with electricity, a mix of nervousness and excitement flowing in the air. Ursa watched, a mixture of boredom and reluctant interest warring on his face.

"Harry, your turn."

"Laurie should go first," Harry countered, "he's older."

You have no idea.

As Harry very astutely pointed out, Regulus, the eldest of the three, stepped forward, his expression a blend of determination and trepidation. He clenched his hand into a fist, bracing himself for the incision that would forever seal their brotherhood. He was ready, Regulus told himself, even though Sala's uncanniness to the Dark Lord was slightly terrifying. In this capacity, I will protect him; I will love him. He isn't a Dark Lord. As the blade met his palm, a fine line of crimson welled forth, intermingling with Sala's blood from before. The mingling drops carried a weight of unity and solidarity that transcended mere physicality. Regulus could already feel the air getting thicker and heavier, weighed down by magic that he was sure Harry didn't even understand. Like Sala, he let the blood drip into the bowl and then pressed his hand against the bottom, mixing his blood with the boy he had grown up with.

"Now, Harry," Sala whispered, his eyes dark and full of something Regulus couldn't fathom. He couldn't imagine this was a good idea. "It's your turn."

Harry, the youngest of the trio, watched with wide eyes, a mixture of awe and wariness shining in his gaze. From Regulus' perspective, it seemed he understood the gravity of this moment, that their lives were about to be irrevocably bound together, but if he was reticent to the idea, he didn't say so. Harry swallowed his apprehension and extended his hand, offering himself willingly to the ritual.

Sala, his palm still bearing the mark of sacrifice, his blood dripping everywhere — how hard had he cut himself? — approached Harry with a reassuring smile. Gently, he grasped Harry's hand, ensuring without words that the little one understood the profoundness of the step they were about to take. Sala's voice, steady and filled with conviction, resonated within the room.

"Harry, by the bond of blood, by the ties that fate has woven, we stand together as brothers. This ritual affirms our unbreakable unity, a bond that surpasses all challenges and trials."

With those words, Sala took the blade once more, tracing a careful line across Harry's palm. The younger boy hissed in pain but didn't pull back his hand. Interesting.

A momentary sting gave way to a sense of belonging as if a missing piece of their shared puzzle had fallen into place. Sala's blood mingled with Harry's, merging their magic and solidifying their connection. Without a word, Regulus moved forward, linking his bloody palm with the two of theirs. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Ursa glaring with a reluctant acceptance.

Like Regulus and Sala had done, Harry pressed his palm against the bowl, gasping and staring at Sala with his eyes turning red for a fraction of a second. Regulus could see Sala startled, but not as much as he did. Both of them sparked with red eyes? Why? For the second time that night, Regulus wished he could see within another's mind.

Regulus, Sala, and Harry stood together, their hands stained with the evidence of their commitment. In the quiet of that orphanage room, palpable energy surged, emanating from the intertwined paths that now lay before them.

As the three boys, now nearly brothers, watched their blood merge within the ancient bowl, a sudden shift in the atmosphere sent a shiver down their spines. At that moment, a flicker of shadow materialised before them. It appeared as a man, slowly solidifying, his ebony black hair cascading over his shoulders, adorned with a ring that gleamed in the faint light. His eyes shone a golden green colour that spoke of years and years of wisdom, though perhaps a quiet bit of tiredness and exhaustion too. Clad in a shimmering cloak draped over his shoulder, he emanated an aura of mystery and power. The boys exchanged puzzled glances, though Regulus thought he was the only one whose eyes fixated on the little bulge in the man's pocket, a mystery he couldn't unravel yet. It was most unusual for a Wizard — for that's what he had to be — to keep things in their pockets. There were such things as satchels, after all. Seeing Harry and Sala gaping at the adult in the room, he knew they hadn't noticed.

The man's voice echoed through the room, filled with an otherworldly aura. "You now share the protection," he uttered, his words carrying a weight that resonated within their souls. They felt a surge of magical energy, golden-green in nature, forcefully enter their chests, and it filled them with an unfamiliar warmth, an inexplicable connection that tied them together.

Regulus, bewildered and fearful, observed the scene unfold before him. He recognised the language spoken by the man as Parseltongue, the language of serpents, as it was often used when the Dark Lord addressed snakes to intimidate his followers. The appearance of a snake following immediately after, coiled into the form of an Ouroboros, added to his confusion. The snake seemed poised to strike, and Harry spoke to it, his voice filled with concern for his newfound brothers. However, to Regulus's astonishment, Sala also responded to the snake in Parseltongue, their words intermingling seamlessly.

Regulus's mind raced, his thoughts colliding with his past experiences. The only Parselmouth he had ever known was the Dark Lord himself. The revelation that both Harry and Sala shared this rare ability left him bewildered and wary. What did it mean? How did they come to possess such a connection with serpents? Questions swirled within Regulus's mind, the unsettling realisation of their shared secret binding them tighter than he ever imagined.

The interaction ceased as abruptly as it had begun, leaving the room enveloped in an eerie silence. The man with the black hair and the golden-green eyes faded away, his presence now but a memory. The snake unravelled, dissolving into thin air. As awe, apprehension, and fear filled the three brothers' hearts, the weight of the moment pressed upon them with something akin to being alive. Life.

Regulus, curiosity ignited within him, yearned to put his theory to the test. Would they perceive their newfound abilities as extraordinary or take them for granted, unaware of the rarity they possessed? Had it even come from this bonding that their capabilities to speak Parseltongue emerged, or had it always been like this? It remained a mystery that only time and further exploration would unravel. For now, the shared bond, the unspoken protection, and the unexpected connection with serpents that the two boys shared bound them together.

For a moment, Regulus felt a strange sense of jealousy that he couldn't understand when Sala and Harry hissed at each other and wondered for a moment why he had understood the man, as he was confident the hissing undertone was, in fact, Parseltongue. With a grimace, Regulus realised that the man must have thought they wouldn't understand him and thus magically enhanced their comprehension.

It also appeared that Sala and Harry weren't aware they spoke a different language. Just as he was about to propose that they go outside for a stroll, there was a knock on the door. Sala looked at him, his eyes panicky, and for a good reason. Despite their palms healing after the ritual, everything they used to create it was still there.

"Why is the door looked?" A familiar cold, drawling voice seeped through the door's cracks, making Regulus' heart stop.

"Just magic your way in," another voice that sounded suspiciously like Mrs Hacker muttered.

Without thinking, Regulus vanished the evidence of their ritual and jerked his head towards their individual beds. They didn't need to be told twice. Ursa scrambled into bed with him, Regulus putting a protective arm around his baby brother as he shivered.

"We can't; she doesn't remember." the same voice explained to Mrs Hacker.

"Now, now, Severus, darling, you're proficient in the mind arts; just remind her." It was Narcissa, and he could see Sala stiffen from his position.

A melodious voice spoke, then a question evident in her voice, "The mind has arts?"

"Dirty Mudblood." A childish voice rang through between the adults' soft-spoken voices.

A smack reverberated through the room with a hiss," How dare you, Draconis!"

For some reason, Harry had climbed out of his bed, shaking from head to toe, and before Regulus could stop him, he ran to the door and opened it.

It really was Severus Snape, and he was in trouble.

As the three brothers stood, their newly formed bond still shimmering with the echoes of their blood pact, the sudden intrusion shattered the fragile peace. The door to their room swung open further than Harry had pushed it, revealing an unexpected assembly of individuals who sent a jolt of unease through the boys if the rigidity of their postures were any indication.

The entourage stepped into the room. The boy, that was likely Draco, seemed sullen, a vivid red mark across his cheek. He was sniffling. Then there was Severus, who glared at him as if he knew the secret Regulus had kept hidden from everyone except Sala. Proficient at the mind arts indeed. Regulus tried to forget what else Severus had been adept at, and unbidden, memories of the two of them together came to his mind from before he died. Forcing his thoughts down, he hid them behind his own Occlumency shield. Instead, Regulus fixed his eyes on Harry, still staring daggers at the red-haired woman, though she showed no clear recognition.

Tall and elegant, Narcissa stepped into the room, her piercing gaze fixed upon Sala. The connection between them was undeniable, yet their relationship remained distant, fraught with the complexities of their past. Severus followed closely behind, his eyes meeting Regulus again with a mix of recognition and worry. I'd imagine he's concerned. The last time he saw me, I was eighteen and in his bed. The weight of their shared history lingered in the air, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed facade Regulus had forged.

Mrs Hacker, the orphanage's matron, stood quietly in the background, her knowing gaze acknowledging the hidden world intertwined with their own. Draco, Sala's biological brother, lingered near the door, his presence a reminder of the intricate family ties that wove through their lives; he was still glaring, completely unimpressed.

But it was Harry, haunted by nightmares and the pain of abandonment, who felt a tidal wave of emotions surge within him. Seeing Lily, the mother he had longed for, only to be cast aside stirred a deep well of hurt and anger. Regulus could see the calm before the storm as Harry straightened his shoulders.

"You left me with them!

"I left you with who, dear?"

It was the wrong thing to say.

Harry screamed loudly and more painfully than ever before, running through the door before anyone could stop him. Unable to bear the weight of those memories crashing upon him, Harry bolted to the end of the hall and away, down the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the orphanage's corridors.

Without waiting for permission, Regulus followed, avoiding Severus' eyes, fearing what the man would see. He could hear two patterns of footsteps following him and Harry and knew without looking that it was his brother and newly bonded brother.

Sala, Ursa, and apparently, the others instinctively followed, their concern mounting with each frantic step. But as they reached the orphanage grounds, a burst of raw, wild magic erupted from Harry. The force of his anguish manifested in a tempestuous display, causing the very foundations to shake. I'll eat my socks if the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes don't appear.

Overwhelmed by the flood of emotions, Harry's magic surged uncontrollably. The air crackled with electric energy as objects levitated and the orphanage windows shattered around him, a display of his inner turmoil.

They were never going to be able to come back here. Regulus thought heavily, stopping abruptly near the chaos that was Harry. They needed to do something.

Sala and Regulus, their thoughts obviously aligned and eyes wide with distress, exchanged quick glances before springing into action. Sala reached out, his voice calm yet urgent. "Harry, focus! Breathe. You can control this." How much worse could Harry's raging storm of magic get?

But Harry's anguish drowned out Sala's voice. His memories of neglect and mistreatment at the hands of his relatives tore at his soul, fuelling his magic with an intensity he had never experienced before. His hands trembled as he struggled to regain control. Regulus put a hand over Harry's heart to try and steady him, but the younger boy's eyes were hazy and unfocused, staring at nothing while all hell happened around him.

As the storm of magic intensified, a burst of golden light radiated from Harry's outstretched palms. The sheer force propelled the brothers backwards, their bodies tumbling mid-air before crashing onto the floor.

A strange calm settled over the room in the aftermath of the explosive magic. The air hung heavy with the scent of lingering power as Harry, his chest heaving, blinked away the remnants of tears. Regulus and Sala rose to their feet, their eyes locked on Harry, a mixture of awe and love etched upon their faces.

"Harry, what... what was that?" Regulus stammered, his voice tinged with wonder and a little bit of fear.

Harry, still trembling, met their gazes, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know. It just... happened."

The adults were approaching again now that Harry's power pulse had calmed. They needed to leave. In that moment, their bond pulsed with newfound strength, a surge of shared energy that seemed to envelop them. The golden-green magical aura they had felt during their blood pact returned, swirling around them in a gentle embrace and shield.

Sala's voice was filled with determination. "We need to find a safe place away from prying eyes and somewhere we can learn to control Harry's newfound powers and keep us together and Harry safe."

The decision was made in the chaos, driven by Harry's desperate instincts. Just as Severus reached out his hand to grasp Harry. "Now!" Regulus yelled, terrified. With a surge of power, he didn't fully understand, the boys found themselves whisked away, the familiar surroundings replaced by an unknown destination. They materialised in a place of momentary respite, away from prying eyes and lingering dangers, though where the hell they were, Regulus had no idea.

"Did you just apparate us?" Regulus asked, utterly shocked. It was something he should have done, but here was Harry, someone who didn't even believe in magic, pulling three other people with him into a new location.

Harry shrugged. If it was a normal situation, he was sure Harry would have asked what apparition was.

Breathing heavily, the brothers took in their new surroundings, their eyes meeting with a mixture of trepidation and relief. The hasty relocation offered a brief reprieve, a chance to gather their thoughts and find solace within their forged unity. But questions lingered. How would they navigate this uncharted territory? And what dangers awaited them in this uncertain refuge? Was it safely hidden away from Death Eaters? They were certainly still around, no matter whether the Dark Lord had fallen.

Harry refused to look at them, a strange golden green shield surrounding his figure. Feeling his heart constrict, Regulus moved forward slowly, allowing Harry to see him as he sat before him, plaintively holding his arms out. Harry dives into them with a sob, and Regulus finds himself with a weeping mess of a child. The two others approach and surround them. After numerous minutes of stroking Harry's hair and back and pressing gentle kisses to his forehead, the boy is finally calm enough to lean back and observe them with red, puffy eyes.

"I saw her, you know…in a dream."

"Ah?" Regulus asks, not daring to stop stroking the boys back even as Harry shudders. "Th-the man that was there with the funny snake biting his tail…."

"Ouroboros", Regulus interjected softly, booping Harry's nose as if he were like a tiny kitten. Harry scrunched up his nose adorably before continuing.

"He was in my dream too. When my mum…when she stepped away, he was there and stopped the bad man from hurting me."

Could it have been the Dark Lord? If only Harry could show him.

"What did the bad man look like?" he asked quietly, afraid to speak too loudly for fear of scaring him further.

"Dark hair…red eyes…not bad looking otherwise, I suppose."

Regulus inhaled sharply. "Did he have a soft, smooth voice?"

"Very cultured, not like Uncle Vernon…."

"And how did you know it was your mum?" Sala asked, clearly ignoring the glare Regulus projected on him.

"She…" Harry looked around them all, the tears starting up again. "She was blocking him from me, not my son, she said, but he did something, and then she moved away willingly…."

A deep sigh penetrated Regulus' chest. Perhaps the Imperius curse?

"What did he say to make her move?" This time Ursa joined in, putting his head into Harry's lap, but rather than shove him away, Harry took the smallest of them into his arms and full-on cuddled. Harry didn't answer.

"Why don't we take this inside," Sala said, unable to keep the sneer from his tone. Regulus cuffed him on the back of the head but obliged, pulling Ursa away from Harry so the boy could stand up.

As the four brothers calmed from the swirling apparition and Harry's tears, they found themselves standing before a sight that took their breath away. What appeared to be a cosy cottage revealed itself to be part of a grand architectural puzzle. Little cottages of various sizes and styles were seamlessly connected, forming a whimsical yet formidable fortress-like structure.

Regulus, his eyes widening with astonishment, whispered an "Ostende Locum" under his breath; the Latin words rolled off his tongue, invoking the magic of location. A shimmering aura enveloped him, extending outward to encompass the entire cottage compound. With a gasp, he let the spell go.

"Nos Sumus in Highclere Castrum," Regulus uttered, his voice filled with awe. "We are in Highclere Castle."

Harry and Sala exchanged puzzled glances, Ursa merely rolling his eyes, used to his brother's antics. They all scanned the enchanting surroundings. Highclere Castle, known for its majestic presence and historical significance, had become their unexpected sanctuary. The implications of this revelation slowly began to dawn upon them. How did Harry know of this Castle? Did it really belong to the Potters? Or perhaps Harry had other heirships that weren't known to anyone.

Regulus, his mind racing with newfound understanding, turned to Harry with a mixture of astonishment and curiosity. "Harry, do you have any idea where we are?"

But Harry shook his head in denial. "Maybe it belonged to my parents… I merely thought of the safest place to go, far away from everyone."

For a moment, Regulus wondered if Harry knew what he did, especially with how serious apparition was. The three D's the Ministry teacher had instilled in them as being important before going anywhere didn't seem to make very much difference to Harry, who knew nothing of it.

"I think you are perhaps more than you think you are, Harry. And I know you don't believe in magic, but perhaps a trip to Gringotts is in order."

He has to know if he has another heirship.

The weight of Regulus's words hung in the air, filling the space with a palpable sense of intrigue. Harry, accustomed to a life of scarcity and mistreatment, struggled to comprehend the magnitude of his possible inheritance. Realising that he held the keys to a world he had only glimpsed in his dreams left him momentarily speechless. "Maybe we should go." Harry agreed.

A flicker of surprise sparked in Sala's eyes, causing them to grow in size, his mind racing to grasp the implications. "Highclere Castle... A place filled with history and opulence. And we are here, within its magical embrace."

Regulus nodded, a mix of reverence and curiosity etched upon his features. "Indeed. It appears our sanctuary is not merely a shelter but a testament to the hidden depths of your heritage, Harry. The possibilities that lie before us are vast."

"Adult talk," Harry muttered, but his smile was worth it.

"Can we talk about all this jazz later?" Ursa whinged, "If you recall, it's very late, and it's bedtime!"

"Right," Regulus agreed dimly. As the four brothers took in the grandeur and seclusion of their new surroundings, they knew that their lives had taken an unexpected turn. They were now intertwined not only by the bonds of brotherhood but also by the tapestry of secrets and untold stories that awaited them, that awaited Harry.

Highclere Castle, with its hidden rooms and magical corridors, would become a place of refuge, discovery, and the forging of their future destinies. And Regulus was also really curious about what the bonding had done to their magic.

As they entered the doors that opened with a touch of Harry's palm and a gentle hiss that Sala seemed to startle at, Regulus felt the slightest bit of unease swirl around them.

It was without real surprise when a surge of house elves bombarded them as they walked into the entrance, Ursa holding onto his hand, his head drooping slightly from exhaustion.

"Young Master Slytherin has come home!"

Harry gasped, and so did Sala.

With increasing trepidation, Regulus recalled how both boys seemed familiar with Parseltongue.

Young Master Slytherin has come home.

They were either genuinely blessed or truly fucked, but Regulus had no idea which it would be.

End note: This chapter really REALLY took so many turns on its own; I could barely keep up and had to roll along with it, as if Harry's magic jumped out of the story and captured me too.

P.S. Who is your favourite character?