Chapter 150: Forgotten But Not Gone
All the children were in low spirits when Wulfric went off to Durmstrang, but they were kept busy with their own studies along with other general activities. At times Hydra and Loughness were tutored with Sortia, sometimes at the Snapes' and at others at #12 Grimmauld Place. There were also times when they'd study alone if the topics were either elf magic or of a nonmagical nature. Like all well rounded children, they also had their extra curricular activities. Loughness was learning body building from Rod, and Hydra had expressed a strong interest in music, and in learning bardic techniques from Regulus. As Kreacher often said, starting young was the best way to excel at anything. Regulus was pleased and proud that Hydra was drawn to the magic of music, but still wished both children were as interested as he felt they should be in their elf magic. After Stormy's assistance, their interest had improved, just not as much as Regulus and Kreacher would've preferred. Being a parent was frustrating in ways Regulus had never seen coming. He felt it was his responsibility to ensure his children lived up to their potential, and when he was unable to make this happen, he felt he was short changing them. As a result, he felt lacking as a parent. It wasn't that he disregarded their own wishes for what he wished for them, because he was perfectly willing for them to be whoever they wished to be. He simply wished for them to be whatever that was with their full potential in hand. Not being fully versed in both sides of their magic limited their potential. This was an obvious fact to everyone but them. As he and Kreacher shared the same view, he decided to sound off to another parent on the matter for advice. He took the opportunity when Mag came over to work on some new songs one evening. Mag assured him that eventually they'd grow out of their disinterest. "They'll grow up and want more power," she assured.
"Yes, but what if it's more difficult for them to learn the longer they wait," Regulus fretted. "Everyone learns best when they're younger."
"And they are learning some, so it isn't as if they shall be starting from scratch by the time they have the sense to be interested," she reminded him calmly.
"That's easy for you to say," he grumbled. "Sortia does whatever you want.""
Mag shrugged slender shoulders, giving a slight unconcerned nod. "Yes, but we don't ask that much."
"Indeed, but if she hated potions or longed to be a Hufflepuff, you'd be singing a different song," Regulus said.
"Probably so," Mag agreed. "And thank you for being kind enough not to say Gryffindor." She chuckled. "Singing, though...Are we going to get to that?"
Regulus ducked his head, giving her a sheepish smile. "Of course." He found that escaping into music, stepping out of his parenting role for a bit, provided a much needed relief. They played in the library and eventually his parents drifted in to listen as they were wont to do. Mag nodded and smiled at them without missing a note as her bow slid along the fiddle strings. Though he was extremely proud that they liked his music, Regulus found himself almost shy singing in front of them at times in spite of that. Perhaps this was because when they were alive, and things were...normal, he wasn't even aware that he had a gift for song. It seemed the old saying about the power of pain driving one to creative genius was true after all. Why couldn't happiness and contentment do that? Perhaps joy or contentment didn't require as much of an expressive outlet, at least not in that way. With that in mind, he was glad Hydra had found her way to music via his example rather than having to discover her own suffering. Like any parent, Regulus didn't want his children to ever go through anything like what he had. He wanted to shelter them from any hardships, or at least those truly harmful ones that hurt a person in their soul rather than simply teaching them to be tough and strong. For the present, though, there was nothing for it but to take Mag's advice and give the children time. They were still very young yet. They were good children, and he didn't want to push them into something, even if for their own good, that they would willingly embrace if given time. He and Kreacher hoped that starting them young would give them an advantage, and they were learning the elf magic, just not as eagerly as one should learn their strongest powers. As they grew older, they would realize the value of power, though. For now he would let it go and allow them to be children. He would speak to Kreacher about it as soon as they were alone. With that decided, Regulus was able to fully immerse himself in the music. When this happened, he rarely thought about what he wanted to play, instead just allowing the music to happen. Mag taught him a few new songs that she'd recently learned from her grandparents who were also bards. Then they began to play some of the older tunes they'd performed many times together. He was a little surprised when near the end of their jam session his fingers began strumming the chords to Crow On The Cradle. Rather than singing, he stopped playing the guitar. "What," Mag asked, glancing up from her fiddle, large green eyes confused as her slender hand poised above the strings.
"I don't know...I don't want to sing that one...It doesn't feel right."
"Why?"
Regulus frowned, his right hand idly tugging at his left sleeve. "I had it in my head for some reason when the children were born...It was disconcerting. Such a happy time called for a happier song and that grim shit came out instead."
Mag shrugged, giving a vague smile. "Seems to suit your usual grim Gothic taste," she observed, unconcerned. When Regulus frowned she continued. "What does it make you think of, though? We can explore that if you want." He considered. "Nothing really but if I had to come up with something, perhaps because the feeling is so vague yet unpleasant, it puts me in mind of the..."
Glancing at his parents, who still hoovered close by, he hesitated. "What," Walburga asked, frowning at him. "You can say it in front of us, whatever it is."
Regulus swallowed. "It's just...The night he killed father." Though saying that in front of said father's ghost was extremely uncomfortable, one still didn't deny Walburga her will. "He twisted the minds of the Lestranges with compulsion, yet Kreacher and I kept most of our memories, save for those of the rest of that night. I always wondered why he didn't make us forget...Why he didn't treat us as he did the Lestranges."
"Apparently you weren't his favorites," Walburga snarked darkly.
"So do you believe you're trying to tell yourself something," Orion asked. Regulus squirmed, still wishing he didn't have to talk about that night with his father of all people. "It's alright, son," Orion soothed, properly reading his mood. "What's done is done now, and I don't want this to still drag you down."
"It doesn't...Not all the time. I rarely consider the fact that he didn't make us forget how he killed you or the fact that neither Kreacher nor I can recall what happened afterward. It won't do any good to stress something to which I have no answers, especially when so many worse things happened. He's dead now anyway, and it should hardly matter."
"Unless it does, and as you're still thinking about it, perhaps it does," Mag said thoughtfully.
"So what am I supposed to do about it," Regulus asked.
"That's obvious," Walburga said, tone laced with slight impatience. "We need to figure out what happened that night that you don't remember."
For a moment everyone simply stared at one another as each, in his or her own way, pondered how to make that happen.
"I know," Mag said after a moment. "I can cast the runes! My readings are always accurate. Severus swears by them, and if the reading won't give you all the answers, it should certainly steer you in the right direction."
Regulus felt his shoulders relaxing as relief flooded his mind and body. Finally another piece of the horror puzzle could be learned, then put to rest. "Great!" He gave Mag a warm smile. "That sounds brilliant! Thanks." He thought, not for the first time, that it was good to have a close group of talented friends. Mag popped off home to grab her runes, and while she was gone, Regulus tracked Kreacher down to appraise him of the current situation. He found the elf busily rearranging the attic with the help of their twins. Not wishing to talk of such a dark subject in front of the children, Regulus asked to speak to Kreacher alone. Kreacher went with Regulus, leaving the rest of the rearranging to Loughness and Hydra, who were puffed with pride at being left in charge of such an important task. When he discovered what Regulus wished to talk about, Kreacher's interested expression wasted no time in becoming a disgruntled frown.
"Kreacher is tired of that night," the elf complained darkly.
Regulus felt himself becoming defensive. "Trust me, I don't thrive on memories of that bloody night. I can't help it came up when Mag asked what the song reminded me of. I don't think it would hurt for us to know what happened and fully put the bloody time to rest."
"Fine," Kreacher bit out. "Putting it to rest sounds good to Kreacher."