He had no time to lose.

He was back in his father's study and grabbed some parchment, dipped his quill in some ink, and started to write, quickly in case anyone tried to stop him. His heart was beating faster than ever, and he wasted no ink on unnecessary words. He knew what he had to tell her.

He rushed the sentences, dipping his quill and writing so fast that he didn't let the tip drip off above the inkwell, blotting the parchment, smudging the lines, the letters blending together. And yet, he was sure Andromeda would understand what he had written, he was sure that she would understand why he had rushed the letter instead of focusing on his penmanship.

He was sure that he could save her before anything was made too official.

Andy

come back

Bella wants to kill you

theyll burn you off

please come back

say youre sorry

hurry

regulus

The final two words he wrote were mostly unintelligible as there was barely any ink left on the quill—but he didn't dip it in again, for the door flew open and his father stepped in. He threw the quill on the desk and grabbed the parchment, hiding it behind his back as he tripped over the chair, knocking it over. He backed up against the wall, desperate to keep his letter safe. He had to owl it.

"Regulus, what's going on?"

"N-nothing."

Father strode across ths room towards him. "What do you have there?"

"Nothing!"

"Show me your hands."

Regulus showed him his right hand, holding the parchment with his left. Then, he changed hands.

"Both hands together, Regulus."

He pressed the parchment against the wall, and held it up with his back, showing both of his ink-stained hands to his father. He thought it was a pretty genius strategy, but his father didn't fall for it.

"I know you're hiding something."

"I'm not!"

"Do not lie to me, son," he said, holding out his hand. "Give it to me."

"No!"

Father grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the wall, grabbing the parchment that fell to the floor. "What's this?" Father asked, squinting at the words.

"A letter," he mumbled, stating the obvious but not wanting to reveal the contents.

"To Andromeda." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. And still, he nodded to agree. "Regulus..."

"I just want her to come back... And I'll make sure she does!"

"She won't come back, Regulus."

"She will! If she reads my letter—she'll know what she's done, she'll come back!" He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, himself or his father?

"You know what words we have to describe people like her? Dunglicker. Scumsucker. Mudwallower."

"Don't call her that!"

"Funny," said Father, "I recall you had no trouble calling your brother a blood traitor only a few weeks ago—what's changed?"

"She hasn't done anything wrong!"

"I understand that you're young, and this is hard for you to understand," he said, as if he was a baby and not ten. He was old enough to know what was going on, he was wise enough to understand that everyone was misinterpreting this situation. Andy had been taken, she was a hostage—the paper, the ink, it all proved she was held captive! It wasn't normal. He had to save her.

"Do you know why we call people like Andromeda blood traitors?" Father said, putting a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to the present.

"Don't call her that!"

"I'll call her whatever I like, Regulus," Father said coolly. "And I see no reason to not call her by what she is. Let's not forget who made the decision to turn on her family."

Father took a few steps back from him and put the letter down on the desk. "Families are bound to look out for each other, to protect each other, to care for each other. Betraying your family, your blood... betraying the entire wizarding community with such a heinous act as marrying a Mudblood, defiling yourself as well as your lineage with scum—it is the single most awful thing anyone can do. You must understand people like that don't care about family, or loyalty. You must understand that Andromeda doesn't care about you."

"But... you said... bringing her back..."

"It's too late for that, Regulus. Your uncle Cygnus doesn't think it's a good idea, and frankly, he's right. It was foolish of me to even suggest it."

"But Aunt Druella doesn't want to lose her..." He didn't want to lose her. They hadn't ever been close, much the opposite, really... but this pained him to even think about. He couldn't think about it. And he refused to believe Father.

"She's already lost her. She chose to abandon us, so she might as well be dead."

"But she's not! She's alive, so she can come back!"

"No," said Father. "She can't. She shan't. And that might be for the better... if she ever were to return—you heard Bellatrix. She won't treat her kindly."

"She wouldn't hurt her sister!"

Father sighed. "Andromeda is not Bellatrix's sister. And she is not your cousin. She is nothing, and Bellatrix will do to her what she sees fit to do to any blood traitor: she will kill her." The look of disgust on his face, though he tried to hide it, surprised Regulus. Why were they even having this conversation if Father didn't want anything bad to happen to Andy? He could help her! They could both help her, if only they got her out of this situation!

"I won't let that happen! I can help her, Father, I can save her... Andy—she'll listen to me, right? She's got to!"

Father didn't answer straight away. Regulus felt the panic rising in his chest. Andromeda had to listen to his letter, because he knew somewhere that Father was right. Bellatrix had seemed far too eager to kill her, and he would never be able to stop her—verbally or otherwise. This letter was his only chance at getting Andromeda back.

"You know what?" Father said after a while, "I'll give you one letter. Write a new one – one she will actually be able to read – and we'll send it to her. If she answers before nightfall, and the answer is satisfactory... perhaps things don't have to be this way, after all."

Regulus nearly ran up to his father to smother him in thank-yous but Father turned around and strode back out of the room.

He picked the chair back up and grabbed some new parchment, sat down and thought about the contents to the letter.

It took him nearly an hour, but he managed to put something down that he thought would be short enough to be clear, yet detailed enough to make Andromeda aware of why she had to come home (and that they were prepared to help her if she needed help).

Dear Andromeda Black,

Thank you for your letter.

I am very glad to hear you are alive and well. We were all very worried about you because you just disappeared and never told anyone where you were going.

I am really sad to hear that you married a mudblood. Please, tell me he tricked you or something. Is this a potion, or a spell? How can we help?

Please come back if you can. We can still help you. Just send an owl before nightfall and we will know what to do. Please. We need you. I need you.

Lots of love,

Your cousin (Regulus Arcturus Black)

Hours passed, and night fell, and Regulus hadn't moved at all. He stared out of the window, refusing to even get up and go downstairs for dinner up to the point where Kreacher had to bring his food to the study and practically force-feed him.

But as night turned to day and an exhausted Regulus was carried to bed by his mother, he had to accept the reply wasn't coming—and she disappeared from the family tapestry, leaving nothing but a black burn mark.

For weeks on end, Regulus refused to look at the tapestry. To him, nothing had changed. To him, this wasn't the end.

But his determination grew weaker the longer it took for Andromeda to say something. The only letter he had got had been Sirius', who wrote him to say he wasn't coming home Easter. But nothing from Andromeda, not even a single word...

And he had to conclude that maybe, just maybe, Father had been right, and she didn't care about any of them.

He sat outside with Bellatrix that Easter, determined to stop thinking about And—her as he enjoyed his stay at his grandparents'. And yet, it all felt superficial. The laughter seemed fake, the sweets didn't taste as good as they had before. It was as if the joy had been sucked from this world. She had taken it with her.

Did Bellatrix feel the same way? She sat there, happily chatting away about something, and he wondered if she missed Andromeda. She had proclaimed she'd kill her, yes, but there had to be some sadness there, right?

He had thought about how it must feel for Sirius to marry some Mudblood, and shuddered—the idea that his own brother would choose something like that over family was disgraceful and unimaginable, but if for some reason Sirius would end up doing something like that, he was sure he would miss him greatly. He certainly wouldn't be able to just go on with life pretending he had never been there, and killing him was out of the question.

So how did this work in Bellatrix's mind?

"Are you even listening?" Bellatrix sighed.

"Er... yes?"

"What was I talking about, then?"

He blinked. He hadn't expected her to ask that, and he had no answer for her.

"I might get married soon."

Bellatrix's words came with such force that Regulus nearly fell off his chair. Married? Bellatrix?

"Oh, come on. You knew it was coming, I'm nearly twenty-one. Besides, your Aunt and Uncle are terrified I'll end up like her."

He had to suppress a laugh—picturing Bellatrix with anyone was hard enough, but picturing her with a Mudblood... impossible.

"What's so funny?" She demanded.

"Nothing! Just... you, with a Mudblood, really? They're worried about that? For you?"

Bellatrix relaxed and smiled slightly. "Well, you never know, do you? Of course, I would rather kiss a Dementor, but I used to think she was the same."

"Do you still think about her?"

The smile faded as quickly as it came. Regulus felt a chill run down his spine, and not just because of the cool April air. Her glare hardened and she stared right at him, and when she spoke, there was not a hint of affection left. "She is dead to me."

"But-"

"I don't think about her," she interrupted, "and neither should you."

He hesitated, but nodded and averted his gaze. He just couldn't help it—his thoughts went back to Andromeda every time he looked at Bellatrix. Why did they have to look so alike?

He had to close his eyes, forcing himself to think of something else, anything else. It did not matter what Andromeda was doing. As far as anyone was concerned, Andromeda was no longer a part of the family, and he wasn't to mention her, he wasn't to think about her, either. And he didn't want to think about her. She didn't exist anymore, it was that simple. It ought to be, at least.

"So you're getting married?" he asked, in a desperate attempt to change the conversation to something more cheerful

"Yes. To Rodolphus Lestrange."

"Do you love him?"

"What's love to do with anything?"

He was taken aback by her genuine confusion. "Well, you want to marry him, don't you?"

Bellatrix laughed. "You don't need love for marriage."

He stared at her in confusion. Wasn't marriage specifically made for people who love each other?

"My dear cousin, I hate to spoil your innocence, but if you really think marriages are for love..." she shook her head in amusement. "People marry for power, status, wealth... and most of all, we marry to uphold our pureblood lineage. Look at your parents—oh, Regulus... you don't think they actually love each other, do you? They just married for purity."

"They don't love each other?"

She laughed. "Oh, bless you! You're so innocent! No, of course they don't love each other. But there's nothing wrong with marrying for purity. You should be glad they didn't marry for love—it's unpredictable and makes for unstable marriages."

"But Andy-"

Her expression turned sour. "She is exactly why basing marriage on love is a ridiculous idea. You can fall out of love as quickly as you fall in love, and then you're left to pick up the pieces. There is nothing more selfish than love."

"What-"

"Just have a look at the family tapestry, if you don't believe me."

That evening, back at home, he went to the drawing room.

The first thing he saw upon entering the room was Andromeda's burn mark. It was as if his attention was drawn to that and that only. It stung to see her erased like that, gone, forever...

No, it had been her choice. Her fault. She had left, she had married the Mudblood, and she had refused to write back. It was her fault and nobody else's. The pain turned to resentment and for the first time in his life, he managed to feel glad she was missing from the family tree—she didn't deserve to be on there, not after what she'd done. The burn mark where she was supposed to be made him feel a strange sense of satisfaction; if it was that easy for her to forget about him, then he'd show her how easily he could forget about her!

He forced himself to look away and found himself, at the very bottom. He traced the golden line that connected his name to his parents' names, and stared.

What was he supposed to see? His parents married for purity, but what did that mean? He realised then that he didn't even know what being pureblood actually meant, what it was actually about. How could he possibly see the reason his parents married on the tapestry? It wasn't written on there, only their names were—his father's name, Orion Black, linked with a double line of gold embroidery to his mother's name, Walburga Black. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that answered any of his questions...

"What are you doing?"

He had been so focused on the tapestry he hadn't heard his father come in. His tone was almost accusatory, and he realised he still had his fingers on his parents' names on the tapestry. He quickly removed his fingers and looked up at his father.

"Well?"

"Nothing, I was just looking!"

"We look with our eyes, not our hands."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"What were you looking at?"

"I... Bella said—you and Mother..." he struggled to find words, and Father impatiently standing there wasn't helping. "You don't love each other."

"What?" Father's tone was even harsher than before, and it startled him. Had Bellatrix been messing with his head? It started to feel like it...

"You and Mother... she said that you didn't marry because you love each other. That's what Bellatrix said," he specified, just in case she had been wrong.

Father sighed. "Sooner or later we were going to have this conversation," he muttered. "I'd just hoped you were a bit older."

"What do you mean?"

"Nevermind."

Father slowly approached him and stared at the embroidery with him. "Love comes in all kinds," he said, tracing his fingers over his own name. Regulus was tempted to say 'we look with our eyes, not our hands', but contained himself. That would only make matters worse.

"I care about your mother. I care about her, you and Sirius, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying or a fool."

Regulus nodded, though he wondered if his father saw it, for he was still focused on the tapestry.

Once more, Father sighed, and he wondered what was so hard for him to say. He didn't really understand why he was acting like this at all.

Father turned to look at him, and Regulus could have sword he saw something glistening in his eyes... were those tears?

"Your mother and I..." Another sigh. "Regulus, my boy, we had our reasons. We both decided this union was a beneficial one, that is all you need to know. But I do love your mother—indeed, as I love all my cousins, nothing more, nothing less."

Regulus frowned. Apparently, Father seemed to think that this would answer all his questions, but instead, it just confused him even more. What did it matter Father loved his cousins? They were talking about him and Mother! He opened his mouth to ask just what he thought this would help him with, but he was interrupted.

"Regulus, you're young. I don't expect you to understand, but some things are more important than marrying for love. Romance can be wonderful in a relationship, but it is foolish to think it is necessary for success."

What on earth was he talking about? What was going on inside his head? Could he not even give him one answer he could understand? "What's more important, then?"

"It's more important to make respectable, pureblood marriages," he said sternly. "Unfortunately, many of our kind are dying out; traitors have corrupted many of the oldest pureblood families—take the Weasleys for example. Good marriage material if it wasn't for their Muggle-loving mania. Other families, like the Gaunts... they were struck by bad luck and are no more."

Regulus nodded, vaguely remembering similar conversations they had before. "So then what?"

"You marry someone out of the people that are left to choose from – and those actually willing to marry you – in an attempt to keep the bloodline pure."

"What does that even mean?!"

"You really ought to know this already." Father was clearly irritated by his questions, and Regulus didn't know what to say. He wanted to apologise, but what for? If he didn't know, it was because his parents hadn't explained!

Father told him to look at the tapestry, so he did. He stared at the tapestry as Father told him it went back generations, it had been in the family for centuries.

"Not a single Muggle has disgraced it in all those years. We need to keep Muggle blood out of our family—that is why she was burnt off. She married that Mudblood and their spawn is not worthy of a place on the family tree. We have to keep the bloodline protected from Muggle blood because that is the only way to safeguard our magic. With few choices available... this often means marrying into your own family."

Regulus' mouth fell open. It was as if everything suddenly made sense. Father mentioning his cousins, the whole pure blood thing, it all fit together. They were related. His parents were cousins... but he had cousins...

"I have to marry Cissy?!"

"No, Narcissa is taken."

As if that was the only reason they wouldn't be a good match... Regulus could think of at least a dozen other things. He liked his cousin, but living with her every day would be hell. Besides, she was at Hogwarts most of the time, and at the Malfoys, so it would be lonely for him if they were to get married. Maybe if he married his brother...

His eyes widened at the thought, no, that couldn't be- right? No, his brother wasn't a girl, he realised a moment after, so he couldn't marry him. Boys marry girls, not their brothers—but he didn't know any girls! The only girls he knew were his cousins, and his aunts, his grandmothers... but surely they weren't an option?!

He stared back at the family tree in horror—he would never be able to look at his parents the same way. Bellatrix had been right, as always, but for the first time in his life he wished it wasn't so.