You know what? I won't even try to justify my absence. I had reasons, but none of them good enough to warrant three months without a chapter ( though it didn't help when my half-finished chapter disappeared, along with the whole document, into 75 pages of ################ )

Chapter 31: Some nasty heirloom of dark magic

Regulus glanced at his wife with happiness.

Amanda had come down from the Black Manor library with a book, not long after Eleanor had gone to see Sirius, walking Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore down the stairs at the same time. Apparently the old wizard liked her; they were talking with a tranquil smile on their lips. Lupin, on the other hand, was throwing nervous glances behind him – towards Sirius, in the manor, no doubt. He was worried for his best friend, and Regulus could understand that.

The wizard bit his lips slightly, at the sight which had come before his eyes.

A muggle, Albus Dumbledore and a werewolf were walking the premises of Black Manor. An unlikely sight, for sure, for at least the last two centuries. Mother's portrait was probably grumbling low under her breath in some recluse frame.

Amanda went to sit next to her husband, after having said goodbye to the visitors. She asked him a few things about what was written in the book she was reading. She wanted to know magic better, even if she wouldn't be able to do anything with the knowledge. The basic rules, Regulus guessed. Amanda was clever; it was more than likely that with some help at the beginning, she'd be able to understand everything in most of the books – read, those which hadn't been written by lunatics – of the library.

Regulus wasn't sure if she was doing it for Alshain, for him, or for both of them. And he didn't care.

She was there, with him, even after everything that had happened. Even after what he had told her about his past. She was willing to be part of this world; that was enough for him.

"What are you thinking about, Cadfael?"

He guessed he must have had a worried look on his face. Frankly, he had every reason to. His son was a halfblood in Slytherin – not that terrible, except Alshain was also a Black. His former "boss" was probably weighing the punishment he'd have to suffer. A lot of people were against the very idea of a muggle Black wife. He still didn't know if he'd be able to pretend he had lost all his memories – or if it was even a good idea.

"We'll have to find a place to stay... Our old house would be too much trouble to defend, and we don't have the time to put up long-lasting, strong wards. And I don't think staying there would be appropriate, with a third of the portraits hissing at you non-stop."

Amanda's upper lip twisted into amusement.

"I can handle your mother, Regulus."

Of course she could. After the first "meeting" with the portrait, which had been very resentful on his mother's part – "Really, Regulus, a muggle? I always figured your brother would be the one to... But you!" – Amanda had peacefully told him she didn't care for a woman, portrait or not, who wouldn't even consider who she was over what she was. And now she politely ignored the spiteful old woman whenever Walburga's portrait said something untoward. It had gotten to the point where all the portraits who weren't idiotic bigots were actually impressed with her self-control...

Regulus still wasn't sure if that was self-control, or if Amanda really had dismissed his mother's opinion as she'd do the barking of a dog.

"Of course you can. But I'm not sure I can."

It was really ironic, he had to admit, how he was the one married to a muggle woman, while Sirius, whom he had always thought would chose at least a halfblood, was showing interest for a pureblood. Not that there was much choice in the attraction between the Rowle daughter and his brother – it was too natural for that. And, Regulus surmised, perhaps it made sense: Sirius didn't want blood status to matter... and refusing to love a pureblood because of her status was doing the exact contrary. To Sirius, it really didn't matter.

"And I'm not sure I can bear living with Sirius much longer. I mean, I love him, really, but sometimes he's just..."

Regulus wasn't sure what his brother was, "sometimes". Freaky could do it, but so could many other adjectives. Gloomy could do it too, whenever he'd start moping about the first war and his time in Azkaban again – for now, Regulus hadn't seen any of that, but he could guess. Self-sacrifial, too, and not even pretending the contrary. And, whatever Sirius' weird habits, there was at least one thing that was certain: brotherhood was a wonderful thing... when kept at a reasonable distance.

Amanda turned to look at the opening front door of the manor, a smirk on her lips.

"Well, he's your brother. That says enough, I think."

Regulus watched as his brother walked Eleanor Rowle back to the gates with an amused smile. Sirius had always been a bit slow on this point – disbelieving, in fact, to the point that he wasn't even considering it as a possibility – but it seemed that, this time, he had found someone he liked well enough – and who liked him back. Even if the both of them were apparently that kind of people...

Oh well. They had time.

And even if they didn't, rushing either one of them would probably just end badly.

But... There were other things to deal with for now. Things of importance. Things he'd rather not think about, but which he still needed to say. It was one of the reasons he had revealed himself to everyone, when he could have continued living as Cadfael White. Because this needed to be told. Sirius – the Order of the Phoenix – they needed to know.

Regulus had decided to wait, after Sirius had shut everything down, because he wasn't comfortable speaking to the soulless ersatz about it. He trusted Sirius, but that... That hadn't quite been Sirius. And while he didn't doubt that even on autopilot, Sirius wouldn't do anything "evil", he had no guarantee that his brother wouldn't do anything... inconsiderate.

Not that Sirius was always considerate in his actions, not with how self-sacrificial he was, with how he was convinced he wasn't really worth it. Regulus couldn't pretend he understood, even if he knew the reason. It wasn't only because Sirius knew he wasn't completely sane, or because he was wary of his own lack of reaction to some things, no – there was also the matter of Adhara. The sister they never had. And Sirius was convinced he was to blame for that.

The worst being, Regulus couldn't exactly say it wasn't true, even if Sirius had never been asked for his opinion on the matter.

No, Sirius was often inconsiderate, of himself at least.

But there, with his emotions completely disconnected, Regulus had a feeling it would have been even worse than usual.

The younger Black brother wasn't sure what he'd have done if Eleanor Rowle hadn't been able to draw Sirius back to consciousness, but since it was the case... It needed to be said, and Regulus felt telling Sirius was the better way to get it to the Order of the Phoenix – Dumbledore would probably listen to him, too, but he wasn't certain he'd be able to utter even one word, because of the shame from his past that he'd feel, standing before the old wizard.

When Sirius came back, alone and looking at nothing in particular – the hint of a cheesy smile appearing timidly at the corner of his mouth, too, but perhaps now wasn't the time to point it out – Regulus gathered himself.

"Sirius, wait. I... I have something I need to tell you. About Voldemort."

The older Black stopped walking, deceivingly neutral, to look at his brother.

"The kind of thing that could be useful in defeating him?"

"...Yeah. The kind of things you and your friends need to know if you want him gone. It's one of the reasons I came back, but, since I'm not supposed to remember... And even if it wasn't the case, your friends would probably not want to believe me. Most of them, right now, are probably thinking I'm playing amnesiac, which is the case, and playing you, since they don't know it was your idea to begin with. If they knew I remember everything, they'd surely say I'm only pretending, that I'm feeding you false intel. I don't want you to lose the trust you've regained after..."

Sirius guessed what was following easily enough, and he didn't particularly want to go into specifics. Most of the time, he was happy pretending he hadn't spent twelve years in hell with absolutely no one believing in him – except perhaps Eleanor Rowle, which was funny, considering they hadn't know each other that much.

"Whereas they'll believe me if I come to them with info. I get it, Regulus; come inside, we'll talk about this in the study..."

Sirius meant the one on the ground floor, not the one on the last floor. Everyone could use the one on the ground floor, but it was still more private than right outside the Manor – not that people could just come in with the wards, but you never knew, right?

His eyes fell upon Amanda, and he stopped for a moment, hesitant.

"Do you want to...?"

The woman gave him a tranquil smile, closed her book, and stood up. Sirius knew she had been a soldier, up until she had found Cadfael White, and while wizarding wars were obviously not the same as muggle wars, they still went similarly enough. There were dead, wounded, and betrayed people. The menace of casualties.

Amanda could probably stomach everything that'd come her way, magical or not, and now that she had married the youngest Black brother, she needed to know what was coming her way.

And Regulus needed someone he could lean on. Sirius had his own amount of shit to deal with, he couldn't always be there for his brother, but Amanda... Amanda was still here.

Regulus looked between his brother and his wife, unsure of what to say.

"Is that really a good idea?"

He squeezed Amanda's hand as he said that. It wasn't that he thought he had to protect her against the evil of Voldemort – she could do that herself well enough, thank you – at all cost, that he needed to shield her – the scars on her arms were adamant she didn't need to be shielded either. Wizards often misjudged the strength of muggles, he had learned that during his years as Cadfael. Muggle soldiers and other fighters usually couldn't stand up to a trained wizard, that was true, but that was also because they didn't know what to expect. Amanda knew enough.

Wizards often sucked in close combat, Regulus had found, and Amanda was very good at hand-to-hand fighting. If she could get close enough to her attacker, she wouldn't think twice before breaking their wand into two, and then, she'd have the upper hand against most opponents – unless they were animagi, like Sirius, but that was rare, or if they had a very good mastery of wandless magic, which was about as rare.

In fact, wizards were also bad at long range fighting; they usually didn't have enough power to fire a spell very far away, and the accuracy of a wand wasn't that good past forty feet, give or take, depending on the wizard's own skills. Amanda had been a sniper, and wherever they went to live once they'd leave Black Manor, Regulus could be sure she'd have a firing point, ready to shoot down anyone who thought they could attack her family. And since most magic shields were thought to block magic, and not physical attacks...

Regulus simply wasn't sure telling Amanda was necessary, which he was certain she could understand. The less you knew, the less you were targeted, and if things really went south, the less likely you were to spill.

They entered the study, and Sirius nodded as he sat down.

"I think so, yes. Regulus, I'm by no means someone who wants everyone to know absolutely everything; it just doesn't work in real life, and it's completely suicidal in a war. But I've learned there should always be at least one person not directly involved who knows the secret, because if everyone gets killed except you, they will be the only one to testify that you aren't a traitor. That, and Amanda is your wife: she may not need to know everything, but she at least needs to know that there is something to hide, that you aren't just being secretive without reasons. Am I not right?"

The muggle woman didn't hide her smile, as she leaned back into her armchair.

"Honesty is overrated, if you want my opinion. Or rather, what people think honesty is, is not only wrong, but overrated. Being honest doesn't mean you share your every thoughts with everyone, it means you don't lie about it. Secrets exist for a reason, and sometimes, you're not told something simply because it's not your business. Moreover, not telling someone everything doesn't necessarily mean you don't trust them. You can simply want them safe, and depending on the situation, secrecy can be the key to it."

Not always, certainly, but sometimes there was no other choice.

Amanda looked her husband in the eyes.

"I am not going to run away, Cadfael, and if you think I can handle what you're going to say, then say it. Your brother doesn't seem to think there is danger in me knowing, and for now, I trust him. It's your choice, in the end, but you need someone who can listen to you, to your fears, your memories; even the ones you aren't proud of. And I, Regulus... I have already seen more than my fair share of atrocities."

"I guess that's a yes, then..."

Regulus almost laughed awkwardly, but what he was about to say... Even an uneasy laughter seemed inapropriate.

"First... I need to... Well. When I was doing Voldemort's bidding, at first, I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought... I thought it was normal. And I believed that, if I couldn't do what the others did, if I couldn't muster the heart to obey certain orders, it was because I was weak, not because it was wrong. The Dark Lord, the other Death Eaters... They thought as much. They never guessed that my heart wasn't in it, and frankly, neither did I. They trusted me, in a way; I just wasn't good at being a soldier; but I was good at other things."

The younger Black took a long breath. It wasn't easy, talking about that time in front of Sirius, who, despite the very same childhood, hadn't ever been fooled by all the supremacist talk in the family; before Amanda, who just hadn't lived in that world, and yet had fought against other people with extreme beliefs.

"When doubt started getting at me... I was just as certain that I was the one being weak, that it would go away soon enough, and that, in no time, I'd just be ashamed of having doubted. I continued doing exactly the same things, pretending I wasn't having any doubts at all. I didn't even... I didn't even try to act on them. I stood by as the others did all these things... Even if I knew it couldn't possibly be right."

He had been so convinced he was the one to be lacking, when in fact he was the only one who did have a conscience... But how could he have believed that?

Amanda never let go of Regulus' hand as he talked. How many times had she heard such a story? That even when someone indoctrinated doubted, they put it on their own weakness? That there often wasn't a way out... except death.

Which was more or less what had happened to Regulus Black, so many years ago.

"Then one day, the Dark Lord needed a house-elf to perform some task. He didn't specify what, and no one asked, but I thought that was a way to comfirm my faith in the cause, that providing Kreacher for the task was the participation I couldn't bring myself to give on some of the missions. I wasn't a soldier, but I could still be useful, right? The Dark Lord was pleased, and my doubts didn't have anything to question on that particular participation, at least. But, days after Kreacher had left, he still wasn't back. So I called him, and he came."

Regulus glanced nervously at his brother.

"I know you don't like him, Sirius, but I do. And the state he was in... Agonizing. I panicked, and hid him from Mother and Father. I nursed him back to health, and for the first time, I... I disobeyed. I forced Kreacher to tell me what had happened, over Voldemort's own orders to stay quiet."

Kreacher was a house-elf of the Black family, not Voldemort's. So obviously, even if Regulus considered, at the time, that the wizard was above him, to Kreacher, it didn't matter. His master's orders were absolute. The young master had asked him to obey the Dark Lord as if he were part of the family, and Kreacher had. But when the young master had asked the house-elf to tell him absolutely everything...

Kreacher had obeyed.

And he had told him everything – or, at least, everything he knew.

"Voldemort... the Dark Lord had taken Kreacher to a cave, and had used him to test the defenses there. Especially, he had hidden an object under a potion of pain, the recipient being charmed so that the only way to get what was in the potion, was to drink it completely."

Sirius' mouth was twisting a bit too often for it not to be concerning, Regulus decided. Had it not been Voldemort and Kreacher they were talking about, one being dangerously powerful and difficult to find, the other being one of the older Black's least favorite people, Sirius might have just gone and kicked the bastard's door open before trailing them in a puddle of mud, then "misplacing" them in Azkaban.

But Sirius wasn't a fool, and he could control his impulses – kind of. Most of the time. Alright, probably not when it concerned someone he really cared about. Especially not when he was already in an unstable psychological state.

Which was not the case today, luckily.

Because, Sirius, not being a fool, had also figured out what came later on in the story.

"Let me guess, Regulus..."

He drawled his brother's name in a way that reminded them both of Lucius Malfoy – and wasn't that a disturbing thought?

"You went to get the object yourself, you drank the freaking potion, and there were, among the security measures, a bunch of underwater inferi?"

Regulus gave his brother a side-eyed look, wary of what was to come; not sure yet why he should be wary, but certainly feeling like it. Obviously, Sirius was pissed off because of his untimely "death" and all that, and he could understand... But it seemed like his older brother was also, unexpectedly, angry at him.

It wasn't as if he had lost his memory on purpose, though...

"Possibly?"

Which didn't settle Sirius' growing frustration at all – not that Regulus had expected it to, but still, it'd have been a nice turnaround.

"And you didn't even think, for half a second, to come and see me with these news, back then, rather than to go alone and almost get yourself killed? Like, I'm-starting-to-doubt-my-violently-racist-boss'-goals-and-means,-perhaps-I-should-go-and-see-my-older-brother-who've-been-fighting-against-said-violently-racist-bastard? Or, actually, I'd rather you didn't think about it, because if you did, and still didn't come, Regulus, I don't know what to say, honestly!"

Regulus cringed.

"Because you'd have listened, perhaps? You never said we weren't family anymore, true, but what you did... It was even worse. If you didn't ever say it, it was because you thought it so deeply that, in your head, you didn't even have a family to think that about!"

Sirius' hand slammed harshly against the table. It had Regulus startled, but Amanda didn't even blink. She simply reassured her hold on her husband's hand. The two brothers needed to vent at least some frustration, and if now wasn't the time...

Well, it still had to be said, if anything.

"Don't talk to me of family, Regulus, not when you were the one who stopped talking to me, and not the other way around, because Mother had said you should! And you know what? Your death, fake or not... I'm pretty sure Dad would have survived his illness, if you hadn't gotten yourself killed. And while you probably didn't want it to happen, it still happened!"

"Oh please, Sirius! I might have been Mom's favorite, but you were Father's, even when he didn't share your beliefs, even if he thought you were wrong. He mourned you even as I was there, standing just next to him, waiting for him to look at me!"

The older Black brother suddenly calmed down – or at least, it looked like it, but Regulus had learned not to trust any Black's physical displays. Sirius wasn't calm, right now.

He sneered a moment, then shook his head.

"And there lies the issue, Regulus. He mourned me, but I wasn't dead."

His younger brother didn't know what to answer to that.

Amanda tactfully cleared her throat.

"Perhaps we could go back to the object of our earlier conversation?"

The two needed to speak about it, she knew, but not with her present. And especially not now, not as her husband was bringing up something he had been waiting to say for weeks already – for when his brother would be willing to listen.

If they stopped each time one of their brotherly issues resurfaced, they wouldn't get anywhere.

Regulus blushed a bit, ashamed, and Sirius simply looked at his brother all business-like again; damn this guy and his poker face.

Still, if they couldn't speak of their family problems, they should at least put things right where it concerned the initial problem. Regulus wasn't going to let this one go.

"As I said, Sirius, would you have believed me? You didn't have any reason to, and I couldn't afford to lose any time. If the Dark Lord had realized what I was going to do... I might not even have been able to get to the object he wanted so much to protect."

There was a moment of silence...

Then Sirius barked a laugh – still a bit colder, a bit deader than usual, but definitely amused.

When he stopped, he noticed his younger brother eyeing him suspiciously. Which didn't surprise him. Regulus hadn't ever really known him, or at least, not since a long time ago.

"That, Regulus, is the reason you never really understood why I was Sorted in Gryffindor, and not in Slytherin. The House I ended up in... It's not because I didn't agree with blood purity or this kind of stupid reasons. There are decent people in Slytherin, even people who don't buy into blood purity at all. They're in that House because of their personality, not because of their beliefs."

Regulus muttered something along the lines of "but you are a manipulative bastard too", which Sirius ignored, for the sake of their ongoing discussion. Besides, Regulus was right.

"And I, little brother, am more reckless than prudent, even if I know how to be prudently reckless."

Which got him a doubtful look, that he also ignored.

"What I'm talking about here, is boldness, but not stupidity. Had you come to me, I'd have listened; perhaps I wouldn't have believed you, but in the end, even if without trusting you, I'd have come. I'd have told someone about it, discarded their worry, and gone with you to that cave. Because the possible gains were worth the risk. I don't have to trust you blindly to follow you, Regulus. All I need, is doubt. I'd have been cautious, and I'd have looked for an ambush... But if you had come with your own doubts and intel, I'd have listened."

Regulus wasn't sure he felt all that better now, but he'd have to do with it.

What Sirius hoped his brother had gotten out of this was simply that: Sirius Black wouldn't ever trust someone blindly anymore, but he'd still be there for them if they needed it.

Trust was overrated.

Sirius sighed.

"So... Aside from your suicidal trip into the Devil's den, what did you find?"

Now that the personal part of the story was done, Regulus felt a bit better... There was no shame left for him, not in Voldemort's actions – the wizard had done what he had done without Regulus' help, thank you very much.

Yet, what was left to discuss wasn't good for all that. It was even so terrible, that the younger Black gulped... and found he wasn't feeling all that better than before.

"I... From what Kreacher described to me, from the mix of human magics he had felt on the object, I couldn't find anything which corresponded. So I went to see Grandfather, and hinted, vaguely, at some magicks the books in the library talk about... Grandfather Arcturus even went so far as to eyeing me suspiciously..."

Sirius was starting to have an idea of what the mysterious object could be, but he still wanted to know how much Regulus had figured out before saying anything.

"And then you knew it had to be really grave, because a Black doesn't just disapprove of the study of dark magicks, right?"

Regulus nodded.

"But he still gave me a book to read, and I... Sirius, the reason Voldemort survived after his killing curse bounced back at him... He... I'm sure you know about it, as you were in line for succession. The Dark Lord, he made a horcrux with Salazar Slytherin's locket."

Regulus' eyes turned to Amanda, who had a politely inquiring look on her face, but Sirius was the one to explain.

"The Dark Bastard murdered someone to split his soul and hide part of it in an object. Horcruxes are almost indestructible, unless you have something like basilisk venom in your closet. You're saying that's what was in the cave?"

Regulus nodded, and tried to say more... Sirius didn't let him. Since his younger brother already knew about the deed, he could as well tell him about the plurality of said deed.

"I... I knew already, Regulus. And sorry to tell you that, but he didn't make only one. Dumbledore is trying to discover how many horcruxes Voldemort made as we speak. But... Fortunately for us, we do have a sword, full of basilisk venom, and we are also two horcruxes down. Harry destroyed one with a fang of the Monster of Slytherin when he was a second year, and the headmaster got rid of another this summer. I don't suppose you managed to get rid of yours...?"

Regulus stashed away the info that the Monster of Slytherin, the Chamber of Secrets were real, the serpent had been unleashed, killed by a twelve-years-old, was in fact a basilisk – made sense, really, but where in hell had Salazar Slytherin found one to begin with? Regulus was almost certain basilisks were extinct since the end of the Middle A... Oh. Still, he wouldn't have thought of it, if only because basilisks, even at the time, had been terribly and fortunately rare, and thinking that Slytherin had managed to bind one to his will... Parselmouth or not, basilisks had too much magic in them to just obey. The old founder had probably done something to the egg itself to ensure the monster's obedience.

Anyway. Later.

"I ordered Kreacher to destroy it, but if what you're saying about the means of disposal is true, he might not have managed to do it. House-elf magic is different from ours, but that doesn't really mean much when confronted to such a dark artifact."

Sirius agreed. The only way to be sure, was to ask the annoying house-elf himself.

He called Kreacher, who popped out of nowhere, eyes wide open and onto Amanda – the house-elf didn't know what to think of the muggle woman, but Master Regulus had married her, and...

"By all means, brother, handle this interrogation. I'll just... walk out of here meanwhile. I could probably do with a sandwich... Someone wants something from the kitchen? No? Then... I'll be back in five."

And just like that, Sirius disappeared from the study. He tolerated Kreacher, now, but he'd still rather not spend more time than necessary in his presence. Too many bad memories.

When he came back, five minutes later, the house-elf was gone, and Regulus was holding a gold locket with a serpentine S on it, a disgusted expression on his face.

Where had he seen... Right. The little weasel must have stolen it back.

"For once I'm glad Kreacher did his thing... I almost threw it away, thinking it was some nasty heirloom of black magic, when I cleaned up the Grimmauld house."

Regulus snorted.

"Well, it is some nasty heirloom of dark magic, and it really deserved to be thrown away... Only, it's not our nasty heirloom of dark magic, and throwing it away would have made matters more complicated."

Sirius looked around the office, and found Amanda gone.

"Where did your wife go?"

Regulus answered carefully – whether because of the nastiness of the task she had given herself, or because he wasn't sure it would change much of anything, his brother couldn't tell.

"I really love my wife, you know, and I like Kreacher, not matter what you think about him... But I'm not certain she'll manage to do what she want, with how... traditional this house-elf is. She read about house-elves, and I know she won't try to get him real clothes, but she thought it was time for Kreacher to look a bit more... respectable. Like the house-elves at Hogwarts wear something close to a uniform, I guess."

Sirius scrunched his nose, and did his best to ignore the mental image which was coming to him.

"I wish her good luck. Aside from that, I don't suppose you know how to use fyendfire?"

Regulus' eyes went back to the horcrux – he couldn't believe he was holding such a thing in his hands, again.

"So that works too... No, sorry. Wilkes was the pyromaniac among the Death Eaters. Everyone else just stayed clear of her in battle, or of fyendfire in general, even Bellatrix and the likes. It's not something anyone would be able, or willing to use. Too dangerous. You?"

Sirius blinked at the question, wondering why his little brother would even think...

"Don't look at me like that! You're the insanely skilled one, and fyendfire is dark magic from beginning to end. It's just in your area of expertise."

"Well sorry to disappoint, brat, but I never even thought of using it. And while, perhaps, my level of skill could contain the time bomb that is fyendfire, I'd still need some experience in handling it before risking it anywhere other than in the middle of the ocean. By the way, I don't like how you insinuated I wasn't only insanely skillful, but merely insane and skilled."

Regulus rolled his eyes, but soon refocused on the freaking piece of dark magic in his hands.

"So... What do we do, then?"

Sirius squinted at him, and snatched the horcrux away before pocketing it.

"Did you listen when I said Hogwarts has the sword of Gryffindor, which has been imbued with basilisk venom? We're going to see Dumbledore and get rid of that thing. Which, by the way, you aren't going to handle anymore. Your reputation is suspicious enough, I don't want anyone to see you with Voldepant's soul hanging around your neck."

Damn, Regulus had forgotten how much brotherhood sucked. Especially when you were the younger brother – not that it had anything to do with his poor life choices from the first war, no, not at all. It wasn't as if he had deserved to be treated like a kid, by proving he couldn't make choices for himself without becoming a terrorist... Oh wait, yes it was.

Still, he thought he had made some redeeming life choices since then.

So it was all because Sirius was a nasty older brother, in the end. Yeah, definitely.

Sirius called Dumbledore through his mirror, to announce their arrival – but without precising why they were coming to Hogwarts. You never knew whose ears could be listening in. The headmaster would need to do with the simple knowledge that their visit was of utmost importance.

They started heading for the edges of the property, to the gates, and Regulus took the opportunity to point out a few things on the way. He so needed to correct some of his brother's assumptions – and, his way of putting things into words, too, because wow, Sirius had a way with how he said things...

"One, that sounded incredibly disturbing, I didn't need that. Two, I'm pretty sure you didn't say half these things; in fact, I think you were waaay more vague than that, and I definitely couldn't guess it was Gryffindor's sword from what you said. Three, I wouldn't put the dratted locket around my neck, thank you very much, I'm not stupid, and it's not like I'm going to lose it before we destroy it."

Sirius only deigned glancing at him for a second.

"You can have the dratted locket back if you want, but don't count on me to explain anything if someone asks something."

And he almost shoved the horcrux in his brother's face, without a care in the world.

Regulus stopped in his tracks, to avoid the damned thing, a look of outrage on his face.

"I didn't say I wanted it!"

The smirk he got in return said enough, and for the second time that day, the younger Black brother thought brotherhood really, really sucked.

Just before they passed the gates, though, he stopped Sirius. He still had one thing to say about his... marvellous trip to Voldemort's cave, and he'd rather not wait to be in Albus Dumbledore's presence – in spite of his brother's – to say it.

Sirius arched his eyebrows, but didn't say anything, too aware of the anxious look on his brother's face.

"Say, if I had done something... inconsiderate before giving the locket to Kreacher and telling him to get out of the cave, to destroy it... Would you help me out?"

"You, doing something unconsiderate? Come on, don't make me wait, spill."

Regulus took a deep breath – remembering the night, the darkness, the pain, the freezing water, the dead limbs grasping at him, taking him with them into the deep, just before he managed to apparate out of the cave... He had been fortunate that Voldemort had been... careless in his wards. They apparently didn't extend to the bottom of the water.

He chased the memories away – at least for now. They'd come back soon enough, in the dead of the night, in his nightmares, even as he laid in Amanda's arms... During the day, too, sometimes, when something reminded him of...

He chased them away, and focused on what mattered.

At the time, it hadn't seemed that stupid a decision, but at the time he hadn't thought he'd live to see the light of a new day. Yet he was here. And what he had done... If the Dark Lord ever went to check on his horcrux, he'd know.

"Let's suppose Kreacher had given me a vaguely accurate description of the locket, and I made a rough copy, to replace the stolen horcrux, in case Voldemort went to the cave... And, still supposing, I might have left a... message in the fake locket. With my signature."

Sirius stared at his little brother for about half a minute before he said anything.

"Should I suppose, with that interesting theory of yours, that you somehow taunted the last darkest mage in date in that message?"

Regulus didn't answer, but the way he pinched his lips together... Sirius didn't doubt it one instant. His little brother had always looked like that, whenever someone pointed out his failures – or, in this case, when Sirius guessed right about something he had done, and was now regretting.

"And I'm the reckless one..."

"I thought I was going to die anyway!"

"Which clearly didn't happen, no matter what we all thought. Alright... We can surmise Voldepants never found your cute goodbye note, or you'd be dead by now. I think you wouldn't even have walked out of St. Mungo's; a Death Eater would have killed you when you were stuck to the hospital bed, or they'd have at least tried. The thing is, if he finds it now, he'll have you killed, with your wife and son for good measure. He won't even care to know if you really remember nothing or not. It's not just your life on the line anymore..."

"I know that, thanks! Why do you think I'm telling you about it?!"

Sirius gave his brother a stern look, which had him deflate a bit – a bit, not completely.

"What do you think I'm doing right now, Regulus? I'm stating facts, not blaming you. If you want me to help... Actually, it's exactly what I told you earlier, about how you should have come to me. I'll do anything, if it helps, but I'm not going to just jump into a potentially deadly situation."

"I... Sorry."

Sirius waved the excuse away – not that he didn't care, on the contrary, but he wasn't going to make a big thing out of it either.

Asking for forgiveness was just that; even if you deserved it, even if the other knew you were sorry, you still had to say it, if only for the other to be sure you were aware of what you had done wrong. After that, if you deserved forgiveness, if you asked for it, and the other person still refused, then they were probably an asshole... or a sanctimonious hypocrite.

"I guess it means we're going back to the cave, before long, if possible. We can't possibly leave incriminating evidence like that for Voldepants to find."

Seeing Regulus' distress – could he really blame him for that? Obviously not – Sirius added:

"You won't be alone, this time, Regulus. And you have a family, your own family, your wife, your son, waiting for you to return. It will be nothing like the first time, I promise."

The younger Black gave him a weak smile – but a smile nonetheless.

"I... I'll try."

His older brother patted him on the shoulder, a kind smile on his face.

"You'll succeed."

Confident, Sirius started walking again. They were almost at the gates, and they had a horcrux to destroy. Then they'd worry about Regulus' situation. Things were looking good – or, at least, as good as they could considering they were at war. Not every day, lately, went so.

Just as they reached the gates – after what, they'd apparate to Hogsmeade; from there they'd walk to the school – Sirius took a moment to talk to his brother, as they were still alone – for now.

"Regulus, once we'll be done with the locket... Go, and talk to Alshain. Ask him how he's doing, this kind of things. Then you'll remember why you need to go back to the cave."

Regulus' lips hinted at a smile, and he nodded, but he couldn't speak right now.

"Ah well... Between the cave and the message, Regulus, I'm impressed. We'll make a Gryffindor out of you one day, dear brother. Just for that, you get to destroy the locket yourself."

Regulus was about to retort, this time, but Sirius grabbed his arm with a grin, and side-along apparated the two of them without a warning.