Chapter 50: A doomed atmosphere
Regulus drank the last of his tonic tea with a frown, glancing over Amanda's shoulder at the selection they'd made together.
"...I'm not really sold on the one with the courtyard. It looks fine, and the visit was good, but it's in the middle of Oulwike and I don't think I want to live right in the village. If anything, I don't want to deal with the neighbors getting caught up in... if... something happens."
Considering his past and the current situation, that was an actual matter of worry.
Amanda pushed the village house's picture a bit further down the long table – then she pointed at another one, a small house right outside Oulwike's border, separated from the streets by half a crop field and a high hedge.
"What about this one? You said the wards had been grown into the hedges over the years, and that made the security very tight as long as nothing happened to the trees, right? And I could set up something in the upper room..."
Regulus almost asked what kind of "something" his wife was talking about – most of the house was on the ground floor, but there was one bedroom up above that did peek out of the leylandii hedge – before he realized that she was still talking about security.
Given that he'd made sure she was aware of the threats they might have to deal with the moment they left Black Manor, and considering her time with the muggle army...
Amanda hadn't been a professional sniper herself, but she'd been taught by one, and from what he'd gathered, she was just as skilled as her teacher. He'd never seen those skills for himself, except on the odd occasion he'd been to pick her up from practice shooting, but on that assumption...
Magical shields did not protect from physical attacks, at least not to the point that firearms weren't a threat to wizards. With runes, or perhaps alchemy if he asked Sirius, they could probably make better ammunition against magic, too. Regulus wasn't certain he wanted to know if his wife could shoot down a Death Eater, but things being what they were... They might not have much of a choice. If they managed to get past the wards, if, if, if.
He didn't know yet how the rest of the magical world was taking his return, least of all the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. What he was certain of, however, was their stance on his muggle wife.
"I...Yeah, that one isn't bad. We'd need to check on the hedge's state, it's more work than maintaining a rune-based ward, but if we can keep it going and ensure it doesn't get burned down..."
Regulus' gaze wandered to the next house – bigger than the outskirt one, by a small wood closer to the next town than Oulwike itself.
"That muggle house, though... There are no neighbors at all, most people wouldn't even know we'd live here, and you could find a job in Mildenhall."
"You're the one who said outfitting a muggle residence with wards and everything a magical house needs costs money and can take several months."
"...I mean, I didn't remember that before, but I do have my inheritance. Sirius got the Black fortune and most of our uncle's money, but our parents willed everything they owned personally to me."
More than enough to pay a builder for the works on top of the price of the house. This time, at least, Regulus would be able to contribute – as Cadfael, he'd had nothing to his name.
"Alright, money isn't a problem, but what about the time, then?"
Amanda didn't look convinced, and as Regulus didn't have an answer to that, he just shrugged.
His wife made a face and pushed out the muggle house.
"We don't need that much space anyway. What we absolutely need is two bedrooms and one more room for our... Well. A place for you to do your magic, and one for me to stock my stuff."
The garden space would have been nice, though – Regulus did like herbology, even if he hadn't had a lot of time to do anything about it lately. Then again, Sirius wouldn't be the one to make use of the manor's greenhouse, and perhaps... With the floo, Regulus might be able to visit regularly, and if what Sirius had said to Sarah-Louise Perks had been true, about entrusting him with the House's daily business...
Something else he needed to talk with his brother about.
"...Have you seen Sirius today?"
Amanda paused, thoughtful – then shook her head.
"No, actually. It's already... eleven, uh. Do you think he left the manor before we got up?"
"No idea. There's something I need to ask him, but it can wait. Back to house-hunting, what's left?"
"The flat in Oulwike, over the bakery, and the small house in Mildenhall itself."
They spent some more time pondering the offers – the Mildenhall house was nice, admittedly, entirely outfitted and just the right size, but Regulus didn't think he wanted to actually live in a town – and eventually realized they were always coming back to the outskirt house.
Amanda nodded to herself.
"We should do another visit. If it's still to our taste, then we'll make an offer, what do you think?"
"You're probably right. I..."
The hearth in the entrance hall flared as the floo activated, and the couple paused – stood up to go and have a look. They'd settled in the grand dining room to benefit from the sun outside and the doors to the hall were wide open, but they couldn't quite see the chimney from there.
Regulus knew very few people were allowed to floo directly into the manor – not just floo-call: Sirius, of course, him and Amanda, Harry Potter and Remus Lupin, Andromeda and her husband and daughter. He didn't doubt Eleanor Rowle would soon make the list, too.
"Hello?"
...Regulus didn't recognize that voice, so it had to be Edwards Tonks. They'd crossed paths maybe twice before his amnesia, and never since then. Regulus had seen and talked with Andromeda and Nymphadora a few times, but not her husband.
He didn't remember if he'd ever told her anything about her choice of partner, back then. It had been "don't even acknowledge her anymore, Regulus, blood traitors are not family" and he'd just followed suit. He'd been too young for even Hogwarts, when she'd left the family, so he deserved to be cut some slack, but even so...
"A minute, Ted. Sterhn!"
A crack, and the house-elf appeared in the entrance hall right as Amanda and Regulus passed the doors. Andromeda nodded at them but didn't say anything right away, focusing on the house-elf instead. Edwards Tonks, however, gave them both a cheerful greeting.
"Is he still in the master bedroom, Sterhn?"
The house-elf nodded gravely:
"Master Sirius did not leave his bed, no, Mistress. He has been waiting for the mediwizard and feels too nauseous to get up."
"What..."
Andromeda grimaced but answered her cousin's confusion:
"Sterhn called Ted, he's a mediwizard, because Sirius has been stuck in bed all morning. Your brother dropped by yesterday night, too, after he ran into a Death Eater in Hogsmeade and got cursed with an unknown aria, so it's not like it's a surprise, but he wouldn't go to St Mungo's on the way out, so here we are."
Not entirely unexpected coming from Sirius. Regulus couldn't pretend he was surprised, honestly – though he'd have liked to know about that incident with a Death Eater right away, but he supposed they'd been sleeping already when Sirius had come back, so...
"...At least he did see a mediwizard, I guess."
Then he glanced at his wife and added:
"They're... medical first responders? And field doctors, too, for law enforcement."
Edward Tonks chimed in.
"Medics, in general. You are a muggle, aren't you, Mrs... Black?"
"You can call me Amanda. And yes, I am. But that means, Regulus' brother was wounded?"
The mediwizard made a small undecisive shrug, as if a "wound" wasn't exactly the right word but he wasn't sure how to put it simply. Magic was like that, it caused a large variety of injuries and other illnesses in ways muggles weren't used to consider. God knew his family doctor would be blinking in astonishment if Ted ever brought him what passed as a common ailment – same as the flu or a cold – for a wizard. Not that wizarding folks didn't get any of the usual muggles illnesses too, but generally muggles didn't start sweating caramelized sugar because they'd taken a few too many different potions in less than a day.
"It's more, hmm. Well, Sirius did have blisters where the blood invocation touched him and I treated that yesterday night, but it's unlikely to be the real problem. I think the blisters were a side-effect of whatever the aria tried to do to him, and while Sirius did cut off the chant before it could be finished and thus shouldn't be entirely under its power, it is possible something got through anyway."
Ted's wife shook her head finely.
"Maybe we should just head up, shouldn't we? You'll do a better job with your patient under your eyes than by hypothesizing his problems, and Regulus, if you want more details I think Sirius is the person to ask."
"...Yes, of course, Andromeda, of course you're right. Let's, uh, let's visit the sickly."
The four of them headed for the stairs – first floor, second floor, and then, finally, the master suite. On the way up, Regulus learned that his cousin – estranged for about twenty-five years, he couldn't claim to know her in any way – had first worked at Scrolls & Skins in Diagon Alley, selling parchments and other kinds of magical papers in the front shop, but she now owned and managed the new broomstick park East of Salisbury. On weekdays, it was only open the afternoon for children and the evening for adults, so she wasn't missing any business yet – and even if this took longer than expected, she had three employees who could man the park without her.
This, Regulus realized, was something he could relate to – something Sirius had never experienced, even though he'd taken a road closer to Andromeda's. Having to navigate an adult life with nothing to your name – her because she'd been cast out, him because he had forgotten – taking a small job of the likes your family would never have entertained, and then... doing better with it.
As Cadfael, he'd had nothing – only Amanda's assets, and those were hers, not his – but he'd taken a muggle job as a postman for a few years, and after Alshain's birth he'd landed a job at city hall checking the fine print of whatever needed to be checked. Grunt work, if he'd asked his mother – but she'd thought him dead, and then she had been so and he hadn't even known her name.
Sirius may have left the family too, but their grandfather had never let him really go, and their uncle had given him enough to go and try for the job he'd wanted.
And after that, well. Azkaban was worse than having nothing, obviously, but it still wasn't the same.
In other words, Regulus and Andromeda both had had a – mostly – regular life since they'd left who they were behind, like anyone else out there. Sirius... had never had that, and never would.
That was an odd feeling to live with, assuredly, but perhaps it would allow Regulus to grow closer to the cousin he'd been forced away from when he hadn't even known to dispute it. Just like he'd been working on things with Sirius, he should work on his relationship with Andromeda – and her husband, and her daughter.
They reached the third floor's anteroom about then. Before anyone could get to the bellmirror, though, Sterhn opened the doors for them from inside the lord's quarters.
"Master Sirius knows you've arrived."
Andromeda glanced around the suite in half-curiosity: she'd never been up there before. Right in front of them was a sitting room – with a low table covered in a lot of papers and two large books and an inkwell in a heavy mess but nothing out of place anywhere else – but they turned around the anteroom's wall – uh, so that was in the middle of the suite, peculiar – and passed by two doors – the bathroom's was open, as if someone hadn't found the strength to close it back – to end up in the "bedroom" part.
Sirius lay on a large bed, face down and over the sheets.
He must have noticed them, though, because he did shift around slightly – not enough to amount to anything, to be honest.
Andromeda cleared her throat:
"Still alive?"
A beat of silence, then the sick wizard's voice reached them.
"I'm not going to say 'unfortunately' for something like that."
The witch did not miss the strange echo in her cousin's voice, and looked over at her husband.
Ted was frowning rather strongly.
"Alright, Sirius. Regulus and I are going to turn you on your back, unless you can do it yourself?"
Still in his nightwear – simple black and gold robes that could have belonged to Arcturus Black – and skin a bit grey, Andromeda's cousin didn't move an inch.
"...I probably could. But it'll go faster if you do it."
Ted and Regulus turned him around carefully, revealing Sirius' painfully closed eyes and the dark grey tint of his skin where the robes had slid off his shoulder. Regulus grimaced and took a step back, while Ted got closer.
"It's worse around the blisters, not really a surprise. Still, this looks like your body is fighting off whatever the aria did to you, I don't think it's an intended consequence of the curse. You are basically reacting to an infection, from what I can see."
Something silver pulsed along the grey – almost black – patches of skin, and Ted hesitantly put his fingers on the flesh to check its state.
"Oh."
"What?"
"It's, hmm. Dromeda, please, can I hold your hand for a bit? And, considering... Regulus too."
Andromeda arched a curious eyebrow at her husband but obliged, and Regulus followed suit when she didn't discuss the mediwizard's request.
It did look a bit odd, she guessed, the way they were all standing around Sirius' bed while Sirius lay in unnatural skin color and pulses of light, her and Regulus each holding one of Ted's hands while Amanda waited bemusedly.
It did sound weird for a witch, so Andromeda couldn't imagine how it looked to a muggle.
Ted bit his lower lip thoughtfully for about half a minute before he let go of their hands.
Sirius' echoing voice rose from the bed once more:
"So? What's the whole thing about, Ted the Med?"
Andromeda had to keep an undignified snort in. If she did let it out, Sirius would remember that and try again later, and perhaps he'd have realized that he could add her own name in that nickname if he shortened it a bit more than usual. She did not fancy being called "Ted the Med's Med" or anything of the sort.
Ted, of course, went right along with that particular qualifier.
"My mediwizard expertise can assure you you should be alright. This all looks worrying, but honestly? It is your magic reacting to the aria, not the aria itself. Black and silver, I should have seen it coming, really. That's why I checked with both your brother and cousin, their magic is close enough in nature to compare. I mean, this will suck and you should still be looked after adequately, but as long as you do what I say you don't need to go to St Mungo's."
He turned to look at Regulus and Amanda – they did live here, after all:
"I still don't know what the infection is, but at this point it can't take over. You'll need to keep an eye on him, make sure he takes one glass of mistletoe draught at dinner until his voice turns back normal, and not let him wander around, though that shouldn't be too difficult."
Sirius' brother did point out the obvious that no one had mentioned until just now:
"So, the voice..."
Andromeda thought Regulus looked like he was thinking of something and wasn't certain what to make of it.
Ted shrugged.
"Part of the 'I don't know', sorry; it does sound a bit like a mirror wraith, but..."
"Robards said that too, yesterday. And it was all along, not bit by bit, then."
"...But mirror wraiths are external symptoms that follow someone around and voice all the wrong thoughts in their head, not something that affects the body directly."
Andromeda winced as she remembered the older slytherin girl who'd caught a mirror wraith during her fourth year. The thing had followed her around for five days, showing up on all reflexive surfaces and laughing at her for every little thing until she'd gone and asked the matron to let her stay in the hospital wing.
Not something to envy – and Sirius? His wraith would probably be a real nightmare.
Regulus looked unsure of what to say for a second, but before Andromeda or anyone else could ask, the younger brother was pressing on the scars on his arms.
"That's... not a mirror wraith."
They'd already established that, so he probably meant he knew what it was instead.
"Pray tell."
"It's... Come on, Sirius. You sound like the Core in the basement. A thousand voices in the words spoken by only one, all of the Blacks in history going through your mouth."
Andromeda mouthed "the Black Core?!" in shock, but Sirius only sounded annoyed – on top of the fact that yes, it did sound like it was more than one person speaking through his mouth.
"So, everything deeply Black about me, then. Still sounds like amirror wraith. On that matter, Andromeda, I took a book about mirror wraiths and otherinternal-to-external manifestationsfrom the library when I got home, didn't have the... the time to check it out. If you could... look? I put it on the low table. There might be... something. I don't know. The aria was rooting around inside me, I'm certain it was about unearthing a truth or forcingsomething out, and..."
"I'll take a look, don't worry. At least until one in the afternoon, then I need to go."
"You two do realize I could do that, and for now I still live here? Andromeda has her job, and right now I don't have any obligation, so..."
Regulus had a point, but Sirius somehow managed to raise his hand a bit and do something that looked vaguely like waving something away.
"No. You and Amanda are going to Titterington Civilis, to scout out Yasmine Khorasani, since she hasn't answered my letter."
Regulus paused, frowned, and asked:
"Maybe she's just not interested?"
"Or she thinks I'm mocking her, or that she's option twenty-five and doesn't actually have a chance. I want an actual answer."
"Okay... But I can't just barge in there and say I want to steal one of their employees."
"Of... Of course n... not. Ugh. Sorry. But you do need legal advice, just to make sure no one is going to poke at your marriage because you didn't remember who you were when you got married. So you go there, do the whole legal counsel thing, and then you ask if you could see Ms Khorasani, you tell her the offer is genuine, and you do your slytherin number to assess if she could be trusted or not."
Regulus thought to argue that his brother could have talked about it with them beforehand, instead of basically ordering him and Amanda around – but Sirius was sick, and perhaps if he'd felt better they would actually be discussing this more civily. Knowing Sirius, the result would be the same, too: after all, someone from the old crowd might try a move like this, offended that Regulus Black of all people had married a muggle.
It didn't help that Sirius, despite his blatant support of the other side, was still dating a pureblood from one of the noble houses.
Amanda's hand on his arm got Regulus' attention.
"Would they do that, Cadfael?"
She looked calm and collected – as usual – certainly not worried, but. It didn't mean his wife believed otherwise, only that if it was the truth, then she'd do everything necessary, including a preventive visit to Titterington Civilis.
Because, of course, Sirius was right – even if you could argue about his manners.
Regulus grimaced and nodded.
"Maybe, yes. If one of them gets the idea, even if it doesn't bring them anything... Some might still do it, even if just to get in the way, to make me regret my choice, that kind of reasons."
Edwards Tonks, who was taking a last look at Sirius while Andromeda had wandered off – probably looking for the book Sirius had mentioned – added:
"Trust me, some of them will have something to say about your marriage. A lot will pretend you don't even exist, or that you specifically, Amanda, don't matter, but some..."
Sirius grunted on the bed.
"Bellatrix."
The mediwizard nodded.
"Yes, Andromeda's sister, back before you killed her."
Sirius' response sounded almost petulant – a feat considering how it kept falling into echoes:
"She killed me first."
"Sure. My point was, things have changed since then, where Bellatrix Black is concerned."
Ted put his living-wood earhorn back in his medibag and stepped away from his patient.
"Do what I said and you'll be on your feet in a matter of days."
"...On time for September's Last?"
The mediwizard confusedly threw a look at Sirius – for all that he'd lived as a wizard since his eleventh birthday, some cultural aspects of the community kept surprising him, such as the importance put on the last Saturday of each month, December aside – but recovered before someone had to remind him of its meaning.
"That's... next Saturday, I mean, the Saturday from next week, not tomorrow, so yes?"
Ted was still confused, though, as that particular day didn't have an effect on patient recovery – not unless they were following a timelong potion treatment.
Regulus, however, did know the reason:
"He's dining with the Rowles on September's Last. Has to make a good impression, scare off the family members who may feel opposed to his relationship with Eleanor, evaluate every potential in-laws and their own extended family. You know, typical pureblooded, high-society slytherin-leaning stuff."
Ted shivered at the thought of what almost sounded like a private "social event".
Frankly, he may not like the fact that Dromeda had been cut off from her family because of prejudiced beliefs – or that most of that family thought him worthless – but he was glad to have avoided that particular death trap.
"Callidora's notes about Ms Khorasani are on the low table, if that's of any importance to you."
The sick man's voice – on top of the coming-and-going echoes – was a bit snappish, now, and all three of them took that to mean they'd overstayed their welcome.
"Right, right, we'll let you sleep this off, Sirius. And yes, we'll go to Dragon Alley for your schemes and I'll only complain when you feel better."
Regulus, Ted and Amanda left the master suite with those words, while Andromeda remained behind to pour over the book Sirius had mentioned to them. She kissed her husband goodbye and went back to sit on the couch, assuring them that she'd also keep an eye on her cousin until she had to leave for work.
Before Edwards Tonks could leave through the floo, though, Regulus took a fortifying breath and gathered his faltering courage:
"If... When. When we'll have our own house, Amanda and I... I want to invite you for lunch, one day. You two, and your daughter too. I... I don't know Andromeda anymore, and I doubt she truly knows me either, not after all this time, not after everything that happened. I want to change that, and to get to know the family she chose."
Over us, Regulus didn't say.
It didn't hurt half as much as it had – as it still did, sometimes, when Regulus was alone and thinking of things best left forgotten – when it had been his own brother, he couldn't help but notice.
Andromeda's husband watched him pensively for a bit, then glanced at Amanda by his side and smiled to himself:
"Of course, Regulus. Don't hesitate to owl or floo-call, if you stop by we'll add you to the wards."
Then Edward Tonks was off, and Amanda headed for the cloakroom.
"So, we're going to a lawyer, then?"
"Law counsellor, almost the same thing but they don't take you to court. More... They are the people you go to for legal advice before doing something you aren't sure of, that kind of things. Oh, you know notaries, notaries are a kind of law counsellors in the wizarding world."
Then Regulus added under his breath: "in this country, I could say the Notts and it would be the same thing...".
Amanda got the cape her husband had gotten her to prevent most "are you a muggle?" inquiries while in wizarding spaces – or anywhere they gathered and would note her differences while noticing that she was accompanying a wizard – and took out the glasses they'd bought so that she'd be able to ignore muggle-repellant perception spells.
"Legal counsel, then."
Regulus paused, thought it over and shrugged.
"Eh, close enough. That said, if we're heading out right now we ought to have lunch in Diagon Alley. It's almost noon, I doubt Titterington Civilis will be open much longer."
Regulus checked his drawstring purse – he'd gotten it four years ago on Carkitt Market, it was enchanted to keep his change light and thieving hands smarting.
"There's... Velvet Hall in Fairen Square, usually you need a reservation, but I'm almost certain everyone has been losing business with everything that's happening and even if that wasn't the case, they rarely say no to a surname like ours."
He hesitated to take a hat – much more common for wizards and witches to go out with one than without, once they were past their thirties – and Amanda handed him the one he always took when he wandered into wizarding spaces, before.
"I suppose you're talking about being a Black. May I remind you you are not supposed to be aware of that privilege, or at least not to have gotten used to it once more?"
Regulus stared at the hard-and-high leather hat with the silver embossed Leo constellation – a wonder no one had recognized him the few times he had gone to Diagon Alley in the last decade.
"I... Yes, of course. I'll make sure to act clueless and let the staff come to their own conclusion."
"Not quite what I was going for there, Regulus."
As he kept staring at the hat, Amanda raised an eyebrow and put it on his head herself.
"Here. So, you were saying, Velvet Hall, Fairen Square?"
"Ah, yes. Or the Magic Lantern on Northside, a bit more popular in both senses of the word. Both restaurants only have indoor seating, and right now I think that's more prudent than getting take-out or sitting on a terrasse."
His wife hummed, understanding his point – all too aware, if not of the reality of wizarding spaces these days, at least of how a general feeling of fear could overtake the lives of anyone.
"Let's go, then, and let's find out if I've gotten better at using floo powder."
Two minutes later, Amanda and Regulus were standing by the public chimney in Carkitt Market.
The deserted stalls – only Quid Quod Quad and Gaberlun'Zie remained manned, Hold'n News had a pay-the-scarecrow system up for the Daily Prophet and half-a-dozen other titles, Pots and Pitchers sported a large "delivery only, send an owl" sign – gave the place a doomed atmosphere. The shops were still open – mostly – but the quivering lights made it seem like the owners didn't know if they wanted people to come in or not. Large placards with faces Regulus knew too well – and some new ones, more souls to lure and lie to – littered the walls and some of the windows.
A few shadier witches and wizards lurked closer to the walls, accosting the rare passersby with the promise of protective charms and other fake felix felicis.
Regulus refrained from drawing Amanda closer and headed to Fairen Square instead. No need to show his unease – it might even draw trouble if he did.
"Velvet Hall is this way, in the richer part of Diagon Alley. We should... I mean, you can see it from here, the high wooden façade with stained glass windows. The food is, of course, delicious, but the real treat is the room itsel..."
Regulus stopped in his tracks.
"Terrible idea, I don't know what I was thinking. This is my social scene and I do not want you to meet those people quite yet, at least, not all of them. Let's try the Magic Lantern."
Amanda gave him a long look and followed his frozen gaze on a blonde woman walking into the restaurant ahead of them.
"...Your other cousin, I presume?"
It could have been a former flame, but honestly? Amanda was getting rather good at assessing her husband's reaction to "family".
The wizard grimaced and led her away from Fairen Square – she didn't object. She trusted Regulus – trusted Cadfael – enough to let him assess his own familial situation, and besides, he never hid anything from her. At worst he'd take a few hours before explaining.
"Narcissa, yes. Best case scenario, she ignores me and I can happily pretend I don't recognize her. Stupid scenario, I stop pretending I still have no memories of the past and deal with her accordingly. Not-good-scenario, she doesn't ignore me and I have to pretend I don't recognize her while she reacts however she's bound to over you and me and our son. In all cases, I'm not ready for this."
They crossed back into Carkitt Market and joined Northside Street to the Magic Lantern restaurant, only to find a piece of paper pinned on the door.
"'The Lantern is closed until further notice, as one of our waitresses disappeared and the chief has to deal with the death of two family members.'"
Regulus felt his face progressively turn ashen and forced himself to walk away – down Northside Street, hoping Mabel's Squares was still open, at least. It was Mom-and-Pop, very small and not quite what he'd hoped to invite his wife to, but the square rooms were private and the food was good, if ordinary.
"I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, I hate..."
"Cadfael..."
Belcher's was, obviously, still running, or there wouldn't be three drunk witches slouching by the stairs to the underground brewery – but the owners wouldn't let them stay in the path, if everything was normal. Witching Whims, the tea tonic shop, had a "delivery only" notice too. Further up the street, Scrolls & Skins seemed manned, but there was a large gash in the façade that had been boarded up with hardened parchment paper. The Bizarre Bazaar's merchandise on display had taken a turn towards the kind of things the crooks skulking about Carkitt Market had been trying to sell to whoever would believe their tales. There were actual rickety stalls of scams in front of closed shops.
Regulus wasn't to blame for any of it.
This time.
There, nestled against Gringott Bank's left side, stood the thin and high façade of Mabel's Squares – and the door, thankfully, was open with a large "2" hanging on the side.
Regulus breathed easier and slowed down.
"...Alright. That's the restaurant. Small things, all the rooms are individual, all squares, too. The number means they still have two tables available. I think they have six rooms in total? Ground and first floors."
Amanda didn't say anything in response, watching him carefully – a discussion was coming, Regulus could tell, but it would be easier once they'd be seated than out here in the street.
Even if Diagon Alley was far from crowded, these days.
The greeter for Mabel's Squares stared at his clients for a second – well, at Regulus – then shook his head and put on a perfunctory smile.
"A table for two, is it? Or maybe you want to book another date?"
It was a small restaurant, yes, and not usually the kind of place you booked ahead of time, but it was also a small restaurant – if you absolutely wanted a table at a precise date, you'd better make sure it was kept open.
"No, today is fine. We have business in Horizont Alley but they aren't open at this hour, of course. I thought we could eat here while we wait."
"Of course, Mr Black. You and your... wife, right, Mrs Black? Follow me upstairs, our room with a window on the back garden is free right now."
The greeter led them to a mid-sized square room – enough for an eight-person table and not much else, though right now the table was much smaller – and gave them the menus and a promise to come back in five minutes.
Regulus felt the last of the walk's tension seep right out of him – he sighed.
Amanda's eyes flickered over the menu and her hand sought his, softly resting by its side.
"Cadfael?"
"I..."
The street reminded itself to him: the broken windows, barred shops, closed businesses, the lack of people and those who were there hurrying along. It was worse than when he'd come with Alshain for his son's school supplies, too – more symptoms of the dark lord's return.
"It's just... It's not the first time I see Diagon Alley in that state, it was mostly the same back in 1979, had been so for at least two years. Back then, though, I didn't... I had no reason to worry. I was on the 'right' side of it. Oh, it still felt wrong somehow, I didn't quite like the way things were going or that people were suffering because of our actions, but I thought... I guess, it seemed necessary at the time, or at least like unwelcome side-effects, the wasteway of grander goals."
His wife hesitated for a second, conflict written on her usually collected face – but she blinked and made her mind, like someone who never wavered long, who always chose a path.
Not like him. Regulus was someone who first decided something based on false premises, then hesitated on going back on that decision even when he felt that something was wrong, assuming he was the problem. Doubting the truth of his choices and life meant doubting everything, the risks, the consequences, the doubts themselves.
It hadn't happened on the same scale in decades, but it had happened once and the results spoke for themselves.
Amanda was different. It was easier for her to change her mind, to accept a different reality. She'd been unconvinced when he'd told her about magic, at first, but a couple of demonstrations and she'd accepted it, trying to reshape her world around that new knowledge.
"Collateral damage, then."
It wasn't a question.
"...Yes."
His wife put down her menu and readjusted her magic-revealing glasses.
"Everything has collateral consequences, even doing nothing, even doing the right thing. Sometimes those consequences are good or bad or neutral, but something will happen, no matter what you do. I don't want you to believe... How do I say that?"
The greeter came back then, and the couple put that conversation on hold to order – scotch eggs for him and shepherd's pie for her, though Regulus did warn his wife that the wizarding version of the recipe used scorching peas – only to resume once they were alone once again.
"To put it simply, Regulus... You shouldn't look at unintended consequences only to determine if something is worth doing. If you do that, you risk quitting on something good or necessary because one point went wrong, and then more collateral damage happens. I think the problem, in the end, is more about taking the collateral into account to determine if there is a better way that you can realistically achieve. You... the way I hear your past, you didn't quit because you thought their goals were wrong, you quit because you couldn't believe those means could ever be justified by the ends."
Her husband grimaced, but didn't deny it. Understanding of what was truly important in blood, magic and the right to live and be equal had only come later – when he'd forgotten everything else.
"I joined because I thought the cost of acting was better than to let the natural progression of wizarding society go as it was, and I left... I left because seeing the real cost of that fight made the status quo seem less of a problem compared to the crimes committed to overthrow it, a much better compromise than letting that monster make the world in his image."
Amanda smiled with understanding and leaned towards him until their brows touched.
"See? You weren't quite there yet, but you did make the first step, and from there you learned the rest of it. Even amongst his... What do you call them, Death Eaters? Even amongst those, there could be others like you, children who didn't realize what they were volunteering for, older people who have moved on and learned better but are now stuck with the gaze of murderers watching their every choice."
Regulus closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back – not to his earliest doubts, no, but to the fears that had come with.
"I don't know how to help them get out."
"But you want to, and we can build upon that."