Regulus remained in his own bedroom and watched the days go by, only coming out at mealtimes or to use the bathroom before disappearing again. In part because he actually was busy (the teachers had given them loads of homework on top of the usual amount, and with the exams coming up there was regular study work to be done as well), but mostly because he had no intention of talking to his parents about Sirius.

Mother and Father agreed that homework and studying was important, so thankfully they didn't try to persuade him to come downstairs and talk.

This went on until Easter Sunday was upon them, and he had no other choice but to leave and go to the first-ever Easter brunch hosted by Bellatrix and her new husband Rodolphus. And he already knew that this meant he would have to talk about Sirius. After all, he was the only one who was considered to be 'close' with him, and since they went to the same school...

He presented himself to his parents in the drawing room, dressed in robes of the finest silk with a top hat embroidered with real gold that had once belonged to Grandfather Arcturus when he was a young boy himself.

Standing there, he was painfully aware he was the only underage wizard invited to the brunch (who would actually show up, unlike Sirius) and it made him feel very young above all else. A child. He was nearly twelve and everyone still saw him as the baby of the family, and only because he was the youngest member. It wasn't fair. This alone made him wish Sirius hadn't been so relentlessly stubborn.

It had been different at her wedding. Even without Sirius there, there had been more young people, as there had been hundreds of attendees. But to this brunch only a couple of close family members were invited. On Rodolphus' side, only his brother Rabastan, and their father Rodericus were invited. On Bellatrix's side Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella, as well as Narcissa and Lucius. The only reason Regulus and his parents were even allowed to be there was because of Bellatrix.

And now he'd have to explain Sirius thought he was too good for this sort of thing. Why he was above her invitation. Why he'd rather spend it at Andromeda's of all people—except he wouldn't say that, of course. The conversation would be bad enough without mentioning the traitor.

Regulus and his parents took the Floo Network to a small, shabby inn somewhere in the Highlands of Scotland, which reminded him terribly of the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, only this inn appeared to be cleaned at least once a month compared to the Hog's Head's never.

It was situated in a small village his parents didn't know the name of (or wouldn't tell) which didn't resemble Hogsmeade at all—there were no shops and no colourful houses. The huts he saw were nothing more than that: huts. Was this where Bella decided to live? Here of all places? Here, when the Lestrange family manor was such a grand place, much more suitable to live in than one of these huts?

He turned to Father to ask him precisely that as they hastily walked through the cobblestoned street, but Father shushed him and grabbed his arm. They Disapparated away from the dirty village and landed quite literally in the middle of nowhere. Barren rocks stretched out as far as he could see, and the only living things around were specks of grass and the occasional ant or fly that may find such a place inhabitable.

"It's only a ten minute walk, at most," Father reassured him. "We'll be there soon."

Mother nodded and took his hand, guiding him through the rocks. Right now, the huts back in the village seemed to be palaces. It was inconceivable that Bella and Rodolphus would choose to live out here.

The weather was cold, even in late April, and the wind blew with such force he struggled to stay on his feet. Nevertheless, after about ten minutes of walking through these harsh weather conditions, they came across a small cottage that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. It was barely as big as his own bedroom back at home, and there was nothing ornate about the small wooden door with its brass handle and simple, shapeless knocker, but it was a better sight than the huts they'd seen before.

"Go on, give it a knock," Father urged him. Mother nodded encouragingly. She was rather quiet today.

He stepped forward and took the cold knocker in both hands. He let it clatter down a few times and stepped back.

The door opened within seconds and a beaming Bellatrix appeared. "Come in, come in—you're the first ones."

He followed her into the cottage, which was even smaller on the inside than it had seemed. The walls were painted pitch black, and the floor was made of ebony, as was the case for the long table in the shared dining and sitting room the front door opened into. If not for the fire in the fireplace burning and giving the room an orange-reddish glow, he would've thought he'd gone colourblind.

"It's lovely, what you've done to the place," said Father.

"Thank you, we thought it could lose some colour."

"You thought well. It's very fitting."

She smiled and looked between them. "Where's Sirius?"

"He has once again decided he's too good for his parents and refuses to come home," Father said.

Mother scoffed. "That's putting it lightly, that brat-"

"Now, Walburga, there's also such a thing as exaggeration-"

"Which this is not."

"We have company, dear."

She huffed, but grew silent once again. Bellatrix shook her head. "Perhaps he's just taking his time to get some studying done?"

"He's not," Regulus blurted out, and he clasped his hands over his mouth as if he could force the words back in, but everyone was staring at him now.

"What do you mean?" asked Bellatrix.

"He's, er, not the studious type."

"His grades say otherwise," Father said.

"He's just clever. Not studious."

"Why did he stay at Hogwarts, then?" came Bellatrix again.

He averted his gaze but had no idea where to look. Up, down, left, right—it all made him look more suspicious than anything. Should he just say it?

Rodolphus entered the room from a door in the back, floating in front of him was a set of covered plates which found their way to the long table in their midst.

"Ah, the first guests!" he greeted them, shifting all attention to him, much to Regulus' relief. "Please, make yourselves at home."

Regulus sat down on the black sofa facing the fireplace for some warmth. For a moment, all thought of Sirius seemed to be forgotten, and he was especially pleased with that. The last thing he needed was more questions about his whereabouts he couldn't answer.

The adults chatted amongst themselves about something dull Regulus didn't care about, such as politics or finance or whatever. Even Narcissa and Lucius, when they appeared alongside Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella, seemed to prefer adult conversations to talking to him, which he already knew would make for an incredibly boring Easter Sunday and he was starting to wish he hadn't come either. Being the only underage wizard in the room was exhausting and most of all incredibly, mind-numbingly boring.

It was also tedious, since, for all the complaining adults sometimes did about children being slow – not that he was a child, of course –, it took them until noon to all be seated at the small table and that meant a proper brunch was impossible and instead they'd be having lunch. Not that it mattered much, considering the food that was served was more suitable for dinner than either lunch or brunch: lobster, caviar, beef burgers and all sorts of salads. Even the butter for the buns wasn't regular butter but truffle butter, and he had no idea if he liked truffle. He had no idea what truffle even was.

So he opted for a beef burger, playing it safe, with some freshly made chips on the side, letting the adults handle the stranger foods. He wasn't about to waste his appetite on that.

He quietly ate his beef burger (which was outstanding) whilst the adults continued their conversations. His thoughts drifted and he thought about Sirius—what would he be doing now? Was Sirius at Hogwarts, wrecking havoc with those friends of his, chasing each other through the halls, laughing down in the kitchens? Or was he at the traitor's, eating his own lunch with her, the Mudblood and their halfblood? Was he talking to her, laughing with her, having fun with her when he should've been here with him?

His hand stung and he released his fork, letting it clatter down on the plate. The sudden sound made everyone look at him and he quickly averted his gaze, rubbing his sore hand. He really should've paid more attention.

Mother saved him. "You've outdone yourself," she said, and everyone turned their attention to her.

Bellatrix smiled. "I'm glad you think so, Auntie."

"You don't get a do-over for first impressions," Rodolphus hummed. "I'm glad it's all to your taste—Regulus likes his meal as well, I hope?"

He nodded, hoping they wouldn't pay much attention to him if he kept quiet.

"I'm glad. We made sure to have a children's option."

"Very thoughtful of you," said Mother, and Rodolphus and she talked about the other options they had, but he had stopped listening.

His head was spinning and he grinded his teeth. A children's option?! And that at his age! Did Bellatrix and Rodolphus assume he couldn't appreciate the other foods? It irked him, but he dared not voice his grievances—especially not since he had taken the bait. He was eating a burger and chips, after all. It wasn't even a good burger, and he much preferred fish with his chips. He'd tell them so. That'd show them!

He pushed his plate away and shoved his chair back. It made a screeching sound and once again, everyone stared at him. He paid no attention to them and hurried towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Father called after him.

He hesitated, maybe he should give him some sort of answer? But he opened the door and stepped into the harsh wind without doing so.

The wind nearly blew him off his feet not even s few steps out. The door behind him flew open again but he didn't look back to see who had come after him. It didn't matter. They were in the Highlands of Scotland, were they not? Hogwarts was bound to be around here somewhere. He'd find out where and go there, simple as that.

The wind pressed around his body, trying to suffocate him, to push him back into the cottage. From behind he heard some faint voice calling out—his name? Perhaps, perhaps not. The wind was strong and fierce and howling in his ear, whistling in high pitched sounds that drowned out all other noise.

The rocks that lay before him were bare as ever, and the grass lay pressed against the rocks from the pressure the wind had caused.

"Regulus, there's a storm out there." The words were clear as day, accompanied by a warm gulf of air against his ear and cheek.

A second later, two warm arms engulfed him from behind. He looked up to see Father lifting him, turning around and running back to the cottage. With the wind in their backs it felt as if they were flying high on a broom, yet they were carried by nothing but Father's two feet. The door flew open by magic and Father popped him down on the sofa.

"There's a storm out there!" Father repeated, more harshly this time. "God only knows what could've happened to you!"

He rolled his eyes—honestly! He'd have been fine. It wasn't anything bad, just a bit of wind. He'd been colder at Bella's wedding and nobody had tried to get him inside back then!

"Don't you dare treat me that way! When I say you don't go out you don't go out. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Father," he mumbled.

"Speak up, son."

"Yes, Father," he repeated, staring right at him, anger still burning inside of him. How dare he—how absolutely dare he say that, he thought bitterly. He'd get him. One way or another, he'd get him.

But the adults turned back to their own conversations. The constant clatter of cutlery and the murmur of adult discussions filling his ears infuriated him further but he remained where he was, side-eyeing Bellatrix occasionally but avoiding the others.

Bella caught his eye and raised her eyebrows. "How are you adjusting at Hogwarts?" she asked.

Father sighed and shot them both an angry glare, but he ignored him and focused on Bellatrix. He hesitated, then said: "I'm adjusting well."

"Have you made any friends yet?" asked Aunt Druella, which earned her a foul look from both Narcissa and Father.

He shook his head. "No. No friends yet. I'm, er, solitary."

"That's quite all right," Aunt Druella said with a small smile. "There's plenty of time left."

He nodded and glanced back at Bellatrix, who motioned for him to come over. He slowly got up from the sofa and walked over, ignoring Father's apprehension and seating himself back in his chair. It soon became clear why she'd called him back to the table—all leftover food disappeared with a soft pop and in its stead, a gigantic, rich chocolate cake was unveiled in the middle of the table.

Rodolphus passed him the largest piece (because he was "still growing"). He gladly took it and, despite Father's half-hearted protest, finished it as quickly as he could because the cake was simply outstanding. It made up for the burger and chips, it made up for it being called the children's option and it made up for all other comments they had made about his age during the course of the Easter brunch. It even made up for Father's behaviour after he tried to escape this hell-hole. The taste, the mouthfeel, the delicious scent... it was as if it jumped right out of a fairytale.

It came to an abrupt end when Bellatrix, Lucius, Rabastan and Rodolphus sprang to their feet in unison. Bella's chair toppled over as she rushed towards the door, Rodolphus and Rabastan in tow. Lucius was more collected in his actions, carefully folding his napkin before speeding after the married couple.

Regulus just sat there, watching them go. Where, he did not know. All of the others acted as if this was a regular occurrence: Mother continued eating her slice of cake as if nothing had happened at all; Father was eyeing Rodericus who was also focusing on his own cake, though he was eating rather hastily; Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus only had eyes for each other, though they stole the occasional glance at Narcissa, who carefully examined each of her fingernails and made great effort to look at nothing else.

When Rodericus cleared his plate, he calmly pushed back his chair and strode out of the front door. He never once looked back.

Would they return? The curious manner in which the adults handled the situation made it none the better, nor was it very inviting for him to ask. What if they thought him an idiot for it? He was already seen as the young one, the dumb one. He had no intention of giving them another reason to think that way of him. Especially not since he was fairly certain Father was still mad at him for leaving the cottage during that 'storm'—even though it was absolutely unfair how all the others were allowed to leave and Father didn't try to stop them.

"Finish your cake," said Mother quietly. "We better go soon."

Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus followed her instructions, though Regulus was fairly certain Mother had meant him and Father.

He finished his plate in a few more bites and Father took hold of his arm before he even got to his feet. "You will stick to me, you hear me? Stay close."

"Yes, Father."

They stepped outside into the 'storm', the wind piercing his lungs as if it was made of a sharp knife. Ir had grown more fierce in the short time he's been inside, but not more intense and he shuffled after his parents with more ease than he had imagined.

When they were far away enough, they Apparated back to the dirty village, where the wind was much quieter and the weather much milder, and Regulus was allowed to let go of Father and walk on his own.

In silence, they made their way over to the shabby inn, where they silently walked up to the fireplace. The only words spoken were: "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place", in order to get home through the Floo Powder. Once at home, the silence continued.

His parents sat in the drawing room just staring at one another. It was very unlike Mother to be this quiet, especially for an entire day, and it scared him a little. What had happened for her to act this way? He didn't dare break the silence, so he sat still in a corner of the room, unsure where to look or what to do as Mother and Father just sat there doing nothing.

He didn't know how many minutes had passed – it felt as if he'd sat there for several hours on end – when Father's harsh voice finally broke the silence.

"Where is Sirius?"

He sat upright with a jolt, not having expected that question at all—not after what they'd just witnessed! Mother stared at Father in silent confusion, but Father only repeated his request: "Regulus, where is your brother?"

"What do you mean, where is he? He's at school! Where else could he be?" Mother said, looking at Father as if he'd grown an extra head and needed to be taken to St. Mungo's at once. She reached out to him. "Are you feeling quite well?"

Father swatted her hand away and stood up, walking over to Regulus across the room. "Is your mother right? Is Sirius at school?"

He gulped as Father crouched down on the floor in front of the chair he sat in. "Just answer my question, son. Where is he?"

"Why—why do you ask?"

Father slammed his hand on the armrest. "Answer the question!"

He flinched away and his guts contracted in guilt. He wanted to tell him. He really did, but he couldn't bring himself to get the words out. He couldn't bring himself to put them through such pain when it wasn't even certain that Sirius had left Hogwarts at all. He couldn't tell Father where Sirius was, because he genuinely did not know!

"Is he at school?" Father asked again.

He looked over Father's shoulder at Mother, who sat still and observed the scene in front of her with a perplexed face. Then he looked back at Father, who sat calmly in front of him, crouched on the floor. But behind the calm demeanour was an anger he didn't want to set off a second time today—especially since it would set off Mother's storm all the same, and she had no calm demeanour to cover it up.

"Regulus." Father put his hand on Regulus' knee. "Tell me."

"I don't know." It was a mere whisper, if that, and he half expected Father to grow angry with him for it, to demand a better answer, a louder one—but Father only nodded and got back on his feet.

"Well?" asked Mother.

"Sirius is at Hogwarts, dear. It was foolish of me to think otherwise."

"Didn't I tell you!"

Father forced a chuckle. "Yes, you did. I ought to listen to you more often."

"I'll keep you to that." Mother smiled.

Father glanced back at him and Regulus looked down at his hands. What had he done? Why was Father lying to Mother? Did he know? He suspected something, at the least, but then why did he accept his answer of 'I don't know'—unless his question hadn't been to get an answer, but to get some sort of proof to know his suspicions were correct.

It was making him dizzy, all these questions swirling around inside his head, but if Father knew about Sirius not being in school, then that was all the confirmation he needed.

He slowly rose from the chair and slipped out of the room whilst his parents were distracted by each other, tiptoed to the staircase and climbed it as silently as he could.

When he reached the topmost landing, his heart was thumping in his ears and he knew he had to think and act fast. There was no going back.

He took a deep breath and opened the drawer, pulling out Sirius' letter. If only he had something better to go off... an actual clue as to what Sirius had done, what he had decided, that would've been much more helpful. But alas, this letter was all he had, so this letter – its contents, really – would have to do.

He knew he'd regret his decision if he lingered. Now was the time. He took one final breath and closed the bedroom door behind him. He slowly took the stairs back down, his brother's letter clutched tightly in one clammy hand, the railing in the other. He could barely think over the sound of his hammering heart, and perhaps that was best—if he stopped to think he might change his mind, and that was the last thing he needed to happen.

He reached the floor his parents slept on and made his way over to Father's bedroom. Slowly, he got down on his knees – Father always kept his room locked – and he put the letter down on the floor. He pushed the paper and gave it a shove as it slipped beneath the door and landed out of reach. He dropped to the floor completely and pressed his face against it, looking into the room—the letter was far enough in for Father to see it when he came in tonight, far enough in that Regulus had no way of getting it back.

It took him a few seconds to fully realise what had happened, but when it finally clicked he allowed himself a slight smile, because Father would know what to do about the situation. It wasn't his problem any more.

He'd done it. He'd actually done it.

He got back to his feet and made his way back to the stairs. His heartbeat was slowing down and it was as if a massive weight had been lifted off not just his shoulders, but off his chest as well—his entire body felt light as a feather. He had no idea why this had kept him so tense for so long when really, the solution was so simple. Father would take care of it.

He went further down, back to the drawing room where he still heard the sounds of his parents bickering and chattering away about one thing or another. Light conversation; friendly and meaningless. Just the way it was supposed to be.

They hadn't missed him from the room, or perhaps they simply didn't care that he'd been away for a couple of minutes. Either way, they continued with what they were doing as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just done the biggest thing he'd ever do in his entire life. He smiled a little to himself at that realisation: he saved his brother, and nobody even knew that yet. It was a wonderful feeling.

He spent the rest of the day with his parents, talking about Hogwarts and all of the subjects he'd managed to avoid so far—how his classes were, how his classmates were, and so on and so forth... He chatted away about trivial things, about how Manning was incompetent and about how he had to share his dorm with filth. He talked about the Peasegoods following him everywhere and about his odd Defence teacher. But he didn't mention the fire incident. He didn't really mention Avery at all; he was a bit ashamed to admit that he didn't get on with the only boy in his dorm he should be trying to get along with. It was just so embarrassing, even if it was all Avery's fault.

That night, as he lay in bed, he couldn't help but wonder if Father had already found the letter. If he hadn't, when would he? If he had, what would he say? What would he do? Why hadn't he come upstairs yet?

The clock was ticking and he counted the ticks in his head, focusing on that and stretching his ears in case he heard anyone coming. He had to know if Father knew what to do, he just had to know that everything was going to work out, that it would all be OK.

When there was a soft knock on the door he nearly jumped out of bed.

"Are you still up?" Father's voice came from the other side.

"Yes," he said, a little too excited. He sat upright in his bed, staring at the door in expectation.

It opened and Father stepped into the room, the letter in his hand. "Where did you get this?" he asked, giving it a little wave.

"From Sirius."

Father hummed, glancing between the letter and Regulus. After a few seconds he sat down on the edge of the bed. "He gave it to you?"

"He dropped it."

Father looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "You did the right thing by coming to me," he said, reaching out a hand for him to take.

Regulus took it and his heart fluttered. "What will you do about it?" he asked in a whisper.

Father flashed him a small smile and rubbed Regulus' knuckles with his thumb. "I'll keep him safe."