The next morning was the morning of Christmas Eve, and the first thing Regulus noticed upon waking up was that it was unusually cold in his room. The second thing he noticed was that his bedroom door stood wide open, and the third thing he noticed was the newspaper clapping and handwritten note that were stuck to it.

He put on his slippers to protect his feet against the cold floor and tore both the note and the clipping off the door before closing it and retreating under the covers to read what they had to say. It was short, but couldn't be clearer.

Good morning Reggie!

Still think Bella is such a hero?

Sirius

He put the note aside and looked at the clipping. It was from the Daily Prophet, dated to last week.

TERROR STRIKES AGAIN

Followers Of You-Know-Who Responsible For Attack In Wales

Yesterday's horrific attack which left twelve Muggles and four Muggle-born witches and wizards dead has now been determined to be the work of the notorious followers of the self-proclaimed Lord. They are known as his 'Death Eaters'.

The Muggle-born deaths are deeply concerning as they cast doubts about the true extent of this group's agenda, previously thought to be about Muggle subjugation.

With Muggle-borns falling victim, the question arises: who will be their next target?

Speaking out against this horrible attack, Minister for Magic, Eugenia Jenkins, emphasised the need for unity among witches and wizards, regardless of their blood status: "In the face of darkness, we must stand together," she declared in an official statement. "Let us remember the lives lost in this tragedy and strive towards a future where no witch or wizard lives in fear, regardless of their ancestry."

The assault serves as a grim reminder that the threat of this Dark Lord and his followers continues to grow. It is vital, now more than ever before, that witches and wizards remain vigilant and watchful over not just our Muggle neighbours, but ourselves.

He stared at it. He kept staring at it, he just couldn't believe what he read. It made him dizzy, nauseous even, and he wasn't even all that sure why.

He just stared. It was as if all thoughts had been erased from his mind as he stared and stared, the letters dancing on the paper and becoming meaningless.

A knock on the door brought back his thoughts. The door opened and Father stepped in. He walked over to the bed and snatched the newspaper clipping out of his hands. "What's this? Where did this come from?"

Before he could answer, Father had spotted the note. For a split-second, Regulus thought Father would explode, but he just sat down at the end of the bed, the newspaper clipping on his lap. "Sirius gave this to you," he stated, "presumably because he believes Bellatrix to be – how do I say this? – evil."

"Evil?!"

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, lifting the newspaper clipping.

"An article from the Daily Prophet."

"Yes, but do you know what the Daily Prophet is?"

"A newspaper."

Father sighed. "Once, yes. Now... not so much. It's filled to the brim with propaganda, Regulus. News stories that are made up to demonise certain people, certain groups. Didn't I tell you they'd get to Sirius, in Gryffindor? It appears they got him faster than I had anticipated."

"But you read the Daily Prophet."

"I read it to know what lies are being spread. Which is nothing you need to concern yourself with." Father stood up and made his way back to the door, taking both the note and the clipping. "Get dressed. Breakfast is almost ready."

"What's a Muggle-born?"

Father stopped and turned back around. He muttered something under his breath, then smiled. "Muggle-born is another word for Mudblood, that's all."

"Why are there different words?"

"You're an inquisitive little man, aren't you? Remember what I told you, of the group of people who want to... feed the metaphorical dragon? Well, they came up with a clever plan, and decided to rename Mudbloods to Muggle-borns – a name that puts even more emphasis on these creatures coming from Muggles – to get rid of some of the 'stigma' surrounding them and to promote what they see as better treatment."

Regulus blinked. What?

"They want people to support Mudbloods, and think that by changing the name to Muggle-born, they will increase that support."

"Oh. Does it work?"

Father sat back down on the bed. "Unfortunately, yes. You'll see, when you go to Hogwarts, that many wizards have unfortunately been tricked into believing this. Your brother has already fallen for those lies."

"Well, I won't."

"I know. We have faith in you, your mother and I. You'll grow up to be a strong wizard. Now get dressed, and hurry—we don't want to keep her waiting."

That evening he stood in the drawing room surrounded by family members for the Christmas dinner they were hosting.

Mother and Father were talking to some aunts and uncles, his grandparents were discussing something else, Sirius sat in one of the armchairs sulking, and he stood by the door, desperate for them to move on to the dining room for the actual meal.

When he made eye contact with his brother for the fifth time that evening, he decided to talk to him. Yes, he wasn't allowed to, and yes, it wasn't possible to go about it discreetly, but what was he supposed to do, then?

"Sirius," he started, putting a hand on his shoulder. Sirius jumped up from the chair, glaring at him.

"Regulus! How have you been? It's been too long!"

He spun around to see Bellatrix there, disrupting their conversation. Well, it wasn't a conversation yet, but it could have been if Bellatrix hadn't ruined it.

"We saw each other last month."

She waved his comment away. "That's long to me, dear cousin, and oh!" She turned to Sirius. "Who have we here? If it isn't Mr. Gryffindor himself!"

Sirius didn't say anything, he didn't even look up at her.

"Cat's got your tongue?" Bellatrix asked with a pout. "You used to be such fun, Gryffindor's really taking its toll... or perhaps the loneliness? Has my dear cousin made any friends yet or does he spend his days in Gryffindor Tower all by himself..."

This seemed to get his attention, for he looked up at Bellatrix with a glare. "That's none of your business."

"Oh, but Sirius, my dear cousin..." She attempted to put an affectionate arm around his shoulders, but he patted it away immediately. "Oh, won't you tell me? I am family, after all."

"Where's Andromeda? Or is it just you today?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is she coming to the dinner?"

Bellatrix stumbled backwards, stammering as she found her words. "She... she got here yesterday..."

"No, she hasn't," Sirius protested, for some reason seemingly unaware of the horror laid out on Bella's face—but he saw it. He saw her grow sick with worry, speeding off and leaving the drawing room. And when Sirius laughed at her sudden reaction, he stayed silent, a growing fear nestling in the pit of his stomach.

Was Andromeda OK? The newspaper from this morning came to mind. Who would be the next target?

No. Andromeda was family. She wouldn't be hurt like that.

Unless she had been taken by the Ministry, for questioning, as Father had said last September. But hadn't that been solved? Hadn't Bellatrix promised they were safe?

His back was pressed up against the wall when the shock slowly ebbed away. Bellatrix would handle this. She'd take care of it. He knew she would.

"Regulus?"

He looked into the soft eyes belonging to his other cousin, Narcissa.

"Regulus, are you all right?"

He mumbled he was fine and straightened his back, taking a few steps away from the wall. Next to Narcissa stood Sirius, on her other side stood a teen with hair that matched Narcissa's in both colour and length.

"You brought Lucius!" he exclaimed, fully coming back to his senses. He shook Lucius' hand. "I'm Regulus."

"Pleasure," Lucius said with a sly smile, then turned to Sirius. "So this is your brother, young troublemaker? Are you as – how do I put this? – adept at mischief here at home as you are at Hogwarts?"

Sirius didn't answer, but Lucius' grin only grew wider. "I must admit, I find it quite amusing that a member of the Black family – like you, Sirius – has joined Gryffindor. Quite the... unconventional choice, don't you say?"

Sirius shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his gaze finally meeting Lucius', his eyes burning with anger. But before he could say anything, Narcissa took Lucius' arm. "Shall we find a spot in the dining room? Dinner should begin shortly."

"Oh, of course," he said silkily, "though I must say it is surprising to see your Gryffindor cousin invited... if he was mine, well, let's just say we wouldn't be engaged in polite conversation..."

She rolled her eyes. "That's enough, Lucius."

"As you wish, my dear," he replied.

Regulus watched them as they made their way over to the doors, only to be stopped by Bellatrix rushing back in.

"I can't find her. Cissy, I can't find her!" She grabbed hold of Narcissa and shook her from side to side as she wailed. "She's gone—Andy's gone!"

He was frozen, unable to move as he watched Narcissa tear Bella's arms off, he watched them turn to Lucius, their voices a blur to him.

Then Bellatrix had her wand raised—Mother jumped between them out of nowhere—Bellatrix and Mother lay wrestling on the floor—Father stepped in and everything went silent, yet the sound returned to Regulus' mind.

A panting Bellatrix glared at Lucius. "We'll have a little chat later, Malfoy."

"I look forward to it."

Regulus had barely been able to sleep since Andromeda had gone missing. The last few days of the year seemed to crawl by, and he had great difficulty dragging himself out of bed every day—something that only worsened after Sirius went back to Hogwarts.

It was on Andromeda's birthday that this finally changed, when an owl demanded to be let in right in the middle of his numeracy exam.

It was so impatient in its taps against the window that Father had no choice but to open it. The owl flew towards Regulus, holding out the letter for him to take.

He took it. The material was paper, not parchment. There was no seal, and the blue ink on the envelope looked so foreign to him he couldn't even begin to imagine who had written to him and yet... his name was written clear as day.

He looked at his father in confusion, and he had to admit he was a little frightened by the way it looked. What if it was something bad?

Father held out his hand and he handed him the letter. He held his breath as he watched him open the envelope to pull out more of the white paper. Father's face was indescribable as he went over the letter. There was no hint of emotion, nothing that could help him understand what was written in there.

Then, Father pocketed it, and looked down at him. "I need you to listen to me," he said, and if he didn't know any better Regulus would've sworn he heard his voice break ever so slightly. "The letter was your cousin Andromeda's—no, listen to me. She writes she has gone off and—listen to me, Regulus!"

He let out a yelp of surprise as Father slammed his fist down on the desk. He had kept wanting to interrupt him, ask him if Andy was safe, where she was, if he could read the letter. If it was Andy's, but so foreign in style... was she held captive? By Muggles, perhaps?

"She went and married a Mudblood. This is a grave matter and I will not be interrupted. She writes you knew this. Did you?"

"W-what?" He had rarely—no, he had never seen Father angry like this before. He couldn't remember anything he did to deserve this outburst, and he barely registered what Father was talking about.

"Did you keep this from us? Speak!"

"N-no... Andy didn't—this isn't... n-no..." he could barely form a coherent sentence over the noise in his mind. Andy, his Andy, with a Mudblood? It hurt to think about.

"Look at me," Father growled, forcefully grabbing Regulus by his chin as he stared into his eyes. A few seconds passed, maybe more, before he let go and walked out of the room, leaving an utterly confused Regulus behind.

He felt the same suffocation he had felt when he read Sirius' letter not so long ago. He saw the same black spots in front of him and went dizzy, with only one thing on his mind.

He had known.

He let out a cry he was barely aware of because he had known and he should have acted back then, he shouldn't have kept his promise, he should have told Mother or Father at the least. He knew that whomever she was in love with was someone unacceptable – she'd said this – so why hadn't he just done something?!

Why hadn't he done something to prevent this?!

The front door slamming shut downstairs, and the eruption of voices that followed, pulled him back out of his thoughts.

He rushed out of the study and leaned over the bannisters, looking down on the myriad of people standing in the hall below: Mother, Father, Bellatrix, Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus were all there, yelling at each other without listening to what anyone had to say, until Bella's cry silenced all—"I'll kill her!"

For a few seconds, it was eerily quiet—he barely dared to breathe, as to not disturb the silence. Then, Aunt Druella drew her wand at Bellatrix. "You'll do no such thing—she's your sister!"

Bellatrix remained calm despite the wand pointed at her. Nobody else dared move as she took a step closer to her mother. "If I get my hands on her, if I see her, I'll kill her—I'll kill them both-"

"You'll do none of that!"

"-have her feel the consequences-" she rattled on, despite her mother's warning.

"That's enough!"

Despite her wand pointing at her daughter, she didn't act—if anything she seemed to back down, as if scared of Bellatrix. Regulus couldn't blame her, he'd be scared of her, too...

Bellatrix continued on about wrath and Aunt Druella cowered before her until Mother seemed to remember she had a voice.

"Listen to your mother!" Her voice roared through the house.

Again, silence. For a split-second he thought Bellatrix might attack Mother for silencing her, but she stood as frozen as the rest.

"Perhaps it's not too late to bring her back?" Father offered. "We have to take care of her, she's family."

"Oh, I'll take care of her, just you wait..."

"Hush, Bella. Not like that. We need her back alive, and unharmed."

"Since when do any of you care about what happens to-"

"To our family?! Since always," Aunt Druella said before she could finish her sentence. "She is your sister!"

"She's FILTH!"

"Bellatrix is right." Uncle Cygnus was the last person he expected to utter those words, but he did. "Now, killing people is uncalled for—but we have been betrayed. She betrayed us, and there's no going back. We cannot call such people family, Dru."

"What?!"

"She has made her choice. It's ours to accept that."

"Accept it? I will not stand for this, no daughter of mine shall get away with marrying a Mudblood!"

Uncle Cygnus approached her with a disturbing calmness that overwhelmed Regulus with nausea, a feeling that only worsened when he spoke with a sickly sweet voice.

"I'm sure neither of your daughters will. Narcissa and Lucius make a fine couple, their wedding should be as soon as possible—with Abraxas' permission, of course. As for Bellatrix..."

Bellatrix laughed a humourless laugh. "Oh, I'll make a respectable, pureblood marriage, don't worry. As if I'd want to even be in the same room as-."

"See?" he interrupted, before Bellatrix could go on another tangent. "Your daughters are in safe hands."

Aunt Druella's fear was visible even from where he stood on the second floor. She cowered against the wall, looking up at her husband as if he was some kind of monster. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, and cracked several times.

"What about our Andromeda, our little Andy...?"

"Who?"

Aunt Druella's screams cut through the bone. He knew he should go, he willed himself to go, but he couldn't. He watched her throw herself at her husband, who stood coolly, looking down at his wife as if she was the one who was crazy, as if she was the one who had just decided, in cold blood, to effectively erase their daughter from existence. It was hardly any different to Bellatrix's suggestion of murder.

"We don't have a daughter called Andromeda."