Stay at home.
Stay away from Mother and Father.
Don't act suspicious.
Three simple instructions they'd given him before he left, and leave he did—did despite all his protests and pleas to stay at the Ministry (for he knew it would be safer, if Mother was indeed under the Imperius Curse, than to return) were ignored as the Ministry workers wholeheartedly disagreed. To them it appeared safer for him to go back home, if only so he could get Sirius. The Aurors wouldn't take long to arrive after and if he kept to those instructions there was nothing that could happen to them, nothing at all.
That was their promise, but their promise seemed to fade away as he stepped out of the fireplace into the drawing room only for him to stand face-to-face with Father.
Father sat in the chair, staring in his general direction. At first, there was no real reaction and Regulus feared the worst. Then, Father spoke matter-of-factly: "Your aunt and uncle are taking you and Sirius for a couple days. Your mother and I have some business to attend to."
His face was blank, void of emotion and his eyes fixed just above Regulus' head. It was unsettling in the way Mother's behaviour had been, and the first thought that popped up in his head was that he was too late. They caught him, whoever was controlling them had figured it all out and now he would be their next victim.
The second thing he thought was that he had to remain calm. He had to stick to those rules. Aurors were coming for them soon, and then they'd be safe. He took a deep breath and focused on the matter at hand—Father and his announcement. Why were they going to their aunt and uncle's? On one hand, this was a good thing: no more parents, no more danger. On the other hand, however, what if they were part of it? What if he and Sirius would only be in more danger there? Father wasn't sending them away for nothing, after all.
"We're old enough to stay at home," he tried, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. How Father reacted would tell him everything he needed to know: if he insisted on them going away in a strange manner, he wasn't himself. If he was fine with them staying here... he likely wasn't himself either. Or was he?
"I would've thought you were, but that was before today," said Father.
It caught him by surprise. "Today?"
"Yes, today," he stressed, jerking his towards the fireplace Regulus just came out of. "I know where you just came from."
His heart sank. If Father knew he was at the Ministry... but he couldn't know! There was no way. "I was just visiting a friend," he lied.
"At the Ministry?"
He felt himself grow a bit lightheaded upon hearing that, which only grew worse after he realised why Father was so sure of his case: the visitor's badge was still pinned to his robes, his name proudly on display. There was no way out of this but to agree, to nod, to go along with the lie for as long as he could.
Father leaned back in his chair. "I didn't know you had friends at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"Err-" he started, trying to figure out a response, but this time Father didn't let him think for long.
"How long before they get here?"
"I don't-" he started again, though unsure of what he was about to say.
"Drop the act, Regulus. Lucius already told us what you did—I am not angry with you. Disappointed, yes, for you should've told me yourself, but not angry. However, we must act now if we don't want things to escalate. So I ask again: how much time do we have?"
Lucius told them? "It was a mistake. I didn't mean to-"
"You accidentally set the Ministry on us, did you?"
"No, I-"
"Save it, Regulus. What matters now is that we leave you and your brother in good care. Go pack your things, we can't have long."
"Yes, Father," he mumbled, perplexed at how well the Imperius Curse worked on him. It was almost as if he was speaking with his real father, and that made him queasy. What if that was his real father, and Mother was fine as well? What if it indeed had all been a mistake. Was that why Lucius had warned them, had he known?
He shuffled out of the drawing room and up the stairs. Surely if Lucius knew he'd have said something about it back at the Ministry? Surely Lucius would've stopped him from making a huge mistake? Wouldn't he? He suddenly wasn't all that convinced about it any more, a feeling of guilt that only became worse with each step he took overcame him until he collapsed onto his bed face-down. Whatever had he done?! Had he really 'set the Ministry' on Father? On Mother? On whom else?!
It took him all the strength he had to push himself in an upright position and to start packing his trunk. How long he would stay away he didn't know, so he made sure to pack anything he may need: his textbooks, his wand, parchment, quills, the cheating set Bella got him, but also all kinds of robes (including both his school robes and formal ones in case he wouldn't be back in time for Narcissa's wedding) and a collection of hats.
He was back in the drawing room not even fifteen minutes later, dragging his heavy trunk behind him as he approached Father, who stood by the fireplace.
"Come," Father beckoned him. "We haven't much time. Lucius is arranging for us to be cut off the Floo Network."
"What about Sirius?"
"He's already there."
He hesitated. "I don't think I want to go."
"Regulus," Father warned him.
Regulus averted his gaze. It wasn't fair, he shouldn't be sent off as if he were some sort of problem. Sirius was supposed to be the problem child, not him. And yet, if they weren't under the Imperius Curse, he'd done something much worse than anything Sirius could ever have done.
"Have you any idea how much trouble you got us into, how much trouble you could get your cousin into?" Father's tone was gentle but the words cut through him as a sharp knife cut through fresh butter, tearing him apart in seconds—Bella.
He'd got Bella in trouble with this. He should've known, should've thought about it beforehand that she'd be the one most affected by this! Would they lock her up or feed her to the Dementors of Azkaban? Was she still safe or had they already got to her, was she wasting away in a cell all by herself...
"I don't know what they're teaching you at that school, son, but critical thinking – or simply some common sense – doesn't seem to be part of the curriculum," Father continued trying to talk to him, but Regulus was too far gone to reply. Bellatrix was in danger; they had to find a way to rescue her as she had rescued them.
"Where did you get the idea from, Regulus?" Father asked after a few seconds, pressing him to answer. "To go to the Ministry and dump all this on us?"
He slowly looked up again. The look on his father's face was all he needed to know that he had been wrong, that he had ruined everything. So he gave him the same answer as he had given the security witch and Brian: Professor Blackthorn, his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. "I'm really sorry," Regulus mumbled in conclusion.
Father sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "All right," he muttered, "all right. It's all right. We'll sort this out."
"What will happen next?" he asked.
"I'm not sure, that's why it's best you leave; stay with your aunt and uncle and be a good boy, your mother and I will figure something out."
He wanted to say something more, he needed to, but he couldn't figure out what to say. He just stood there for a few seconds before turning around, stepping into the fireplace, and leaving Father behind.
He travelled to aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus' countryside manor, arriving in their drawing room and stumbling out of their fireplace. He shook some of the soot off his robes – the trip had been an uncomfortable one and he reminded himself to focus on where to go next time – and left to find Aunt Druella, or Uncle Cygnus, or Narcissa or even Sirius.
As he left the drawing room, the scent of freshly baked bread filled his nostrils, making his mouth water and his stomach rumble. It was lunchtime already and he hadn't eaten much that morning either, with that newspaper ruining things along the way. Why had Father put it there, so conveniently for him to see, if he hadn't wanted for him to read it? It made no sense to him.
He followed the scent into the dining room and through to the kitchen where he found Aunt Druella fumbling about with dough and other ingredients of that sort—Kreacher did the baking, how was he supposed to know what they were?
"Oh, there you are," Aunt Druella said with a smile as she noticed him. "Go take your things upstairs and unpack, you're in the second room to the right."
He thanked her and pulled his trunk along to the stairway, dragged it up the steps to the first floor. Second room to the right... It was strange to pass the girls' bedrooms and to know there was no-one there, to know that soon, all of them would be empty and only Druella and Cygnus would remain. The house already felt empty to him now, but he imagined it was even worse for them, to stay here in an emptying home day in day out. He wondered what would happen to the house after everyone had left—maybe he could have it? Sirius was better off in London anyway. It wasn't quite as pretty as the Lestrange family manor but it was good enough, not to mention the secret burial chamber it housed. If he got the house, when he lived here, he'd go there every day.
He reached the bedroom and opened the door. There were two beds in it: one to the far off wall and one to the side of the door. He pulled his trunk over to the bed nearest to him and sat down, watching his brother on the other side of the room. Sirius was putting his things away in the slowest possible way, carefully unfolding and refolding all his robes before placing them in the wardrobe. He didn't show any signs that he may have noticed Regulus entering the room at all, so Regulus had no intention to greet him, either; he could play the silent game they had played all school year, a change of scenery made no difference and he was prepared to sit there all day if he had to.
His rumbling stomach had other plans, however, so after he had a few moments of rest, he sprang to his feet only to quickly stuff his robes into his wardrobe, to shove his wand and the visitor's badge into a drawer and to prop his trunk beneath his bed. He slammed the door shut on his way out, hoping Sirius would feel bad about his actions (whilst knowing he probably would not) and raced downstairs for lunch.
Lunch was a quiet affair, not least of all because Sirius didn't show up for it. Whether this was because Sirius had already eaten or because he didn't want to come, he wasn't sure, but either way he thought it was quite rude to not even show up. On the other hand, Sirius not being there meant that there was more food for him, so it wasn't all bad.
It also meant that, as Aunt Druella cleared the table, he was left alone with Narcissa for the first time since they left Hogwarts. It was more awkward than he had expected it to be; Narcissa sat with folded hands and a blank expression staring stoically ahead of herself, waiting for Aunt Druella to return in an almost unnatural manner. He tried everything to get her attention—he called her name, twice, and waved his hands in front of her face. He even lightly tapped her shoulder but she didn't budge. Had he done something to warrant this treatment? Had he somehow spoilt his summer before he had even arrived, or was she simply being a girl and acting out because of girly reasons he didn't understand?
Aunt Druella returned to change the tablecloth with a flick of her wand, interrupting for only a few seconds before leaving them be.
"I didn't mean to, you know," he said. Aunt Druella's brief appearance somehow had him thinking back to this morning, which felt as if it happened years ago.
Narcissa didn't answer, though she did meet his eye. Briefly.
"It just... happened," he mumbled, encouraged by her eye contact but at the same time not wanting to say too much.
She remained silent.
"Talk to me!"
This got her attention. "Why would I?" she snapped.
"I- we're family," he tried.
"So is Bellatrix."
"Well, of course, I never said-"
"You don't understand, do you? This is exactly why you're too young for these things." She stood up and left the room, and for the first time in years he realised that maybe she was right—he really didn't understand, and maybe that was purely because he was too young.
But if that was the case, surely they couldn't be mad at him? It wasn't his fault he wasn't old enough yet, after all! And yet they were—angry, disappointed, whatever name they put on it, they weren't happy with him for one reason or another. Both Narcissa and Uncle Cygnus were angry to the point of barely talking to him, whereas Aunt Druella (according to herself) mostly felt sorry for him and hoped he learnt from his mistakes.
Sirius still seemed unaware of what happened, and stayed mostly in their bedroom. In the days that followed he often asked to visit friends but the answer was always the same—no. It wasn't safe. But since Sirius also refused to entertain Regulus, he was left all alone.
Aunt Druella kept pushing him to eat more and smile more and do more with his time than just sitting around doing nothing all day. But what more could she want of him, when he had already finished all his assignments by the time July arrived? What more could she want him to do when there was no-one to do it with?
Bellatrix's birthday on the seventeenth of July finally brought him a distraction, and a fun one at that; they were going to pay her a visit, as she had invited all of them to her birthday gathering—not a party, for, as she had said: "ageing is nothing to celebrate, it just brings you closer to death".
"I don't want to go," Sirius complained as they stood by the fireplace. It was his turn to go, after Uncle Cygnus, but Sirius (being the arse he was) refused to move any closer.
"There's nothing for you to want, you have to stick with me or it won't be safe," Aunt Druella reminded him.
"So we all stay here," Sirius suggested.
"We can't all stay here," she insisted.
"We'll vote on it—it's two to one."
"Us two against you, maybe," said Regulus. He wasn't about to let Sirius' nagging get in the way of this outing, which may as well be the only one they had this summer, not to mention this was his one chance to speak with Bella about the whole situation he had overheard in school, to ask her about Kitty Sharp and to make sure she was safe even after he had alerted the Ministry.
"You actually want to go? Are you mad!?"
"I'm not mad! It'll be fun, it's just Bella, she'll be nice."
Sirius snorted. "Yeah, right. Chudley Cannons have a better chance at winning than Bella being nice."
"Boys! Boys! No fighting, please!" Aunt Druella glared at them both. "Regulus, go to your cousin's. Sirius, you're next and that's the end of it. Now move, we haven't all day."
Regulus stuck out his tongue at Sirius and stepped into the fireplace. He released the Floo Powder anx travelled to the Scottish Highlands, stepping into an inn on the other side. It was a little disorienting but he quickly spotted his uncle and went up to him.
"There you are," Uncle Cygnus greeted him. "What took you so long?"
"Sirius is causing trouble again."
He shook his head. "I should've known."
They waited in silence for about five more minutes before the flames flashed green again and a sulking Sirius stepped out, followed by a triumphant Aunt Druella.
"Come on," said Uncle Cygnus, "we're already late and we have a long way to go. Come." He grabbed hold of Sirius and pushed him out of the inn. Regulus followed them onto the cobblestones outside.
They followed the path – just as he had done last time with his parents – and passed the shabby huts once more. However, unlike last time, they never Apparated; instead, they walked throughout the entire village until the cobblestones disappeared and turned into dirt, until the distance between houses on either side grew greater and greater and they reached the wastelands. His feet were already hurting but he knew that by this point it was still a twenty minute walk, so he had to make do with silently cursing his aunt and uncle (who were far too busy scolding Sirius to notice).
When they finally reached the cottage, Regulus was exhausted. He found it unchanged (everything was still black) and was about to loudly proclaim he was taking a nap when his eye fell on the fire, only it wasn't in the fireplace—the fire was on the table. It wasn't the table that was on fire, not really, there seemed to be some sort of gooey substance covering it and it was that substance that was burning. It smelt vaguely of caramel. Burnt caramel. As if some baking project had gone horribly wrong, which wasn't surprising; he hadn't seen a single house elf.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to meet Bella's eye. "That's for later," she said.
"What is it?"
"A surprise. Come on."
He followed her to the sitting part of the cottage where he was surprised to find his parents. He and Sirius had to be away but they still found the time to visit Bella? They'd better be at his birthday.
He had so much he wanted to ask them about but Mother and Father didn't even seem to notice him as they were talking with Rodolphus about on thing or the other. Regulus knew better than to interrupt so he quietly waited for his time to come, only to grow increasingly less patient.
"What do you think's on the table?" he whispered to Sirius as he sat down on his left. He needed a distraction and he hoped Sirius was willing to talk to him.
"What?"
"The table, over there—it's on fire, don't you see?"
Sirius shrugged. "Maybe it's blood."
Regulus paled. "Ew!"
Bellatrix's laugh sounded across the small room. "Of course it's not blood, silly! Just wait and see. You'll both love it. Speaking of, it's ready! Gather 'round, gather 'round..."
He made his way over to the table, which looked exactly the same as it had moments ago. He was about to ask what exactly was 'ready' about it when the fire changed colou—not to the Floo green he was expecting it to turn into, but a deep shade of purple, almost fading to black. Then the flames parted and the gooey substance they were on started to rise in the middle – it very clearly smelt of burnt caramel now – and it formed a miniature round table similar to the one it was standing upon. Then, some of the gooey caramel seemed to harden and it lost its burnt smell as the flames died out. The remainder of the caramel was streaming down the miniature table as if it was lava and the miniature table transformed once more, taking on a thick black covering in the shape of a tablecloth until it changed shape once more to reveal a chocolate cake.
It tasted as incredible as it looked and hadn't even a hint of being burnt, which was a pleasant surprise. After they had all finished eating the caramel-covered chocolate cake, he joined Bellatrix outside the cottage for some fresh air.
"I never meant to put you in danger or anything."
Bellatrix only smiled at him. "Danger, me? I've got it all sorted out, don't you worry."
"But... Father said—the Ministry..."
"It's not your cleverest move, that's true," she said, still smiling.
"But you'll be all right?"
"Of course. I'll Always be all right."
He relaxed and leaned against the cottage wall. Whilst he was very glad to hear Bella was safe and sound, it wasn't what he was here for. It wasn't the question that had been burning inside of him since that day at Hogwarts.
It was now or never.
"About those 'rumours'..." he started.
"It's nothing fot you to worry about."
"Kitty Sharp was a classmate," he countered. "It obviously is something to worry about."
"She got in the way; it was an accident."
"She's still dead. It matters."
"Oh, come off it, Regulus! She's a halfblood, no-one'll miss her. You certainly shouldn't."
He nodded silently and played with his fingers a bit. Bella was right, she was only a halfblood. He shouldn't care, it wasn't as if he knew her all that well either. He'd never even spoken to her—not that it mattered. She was a halfblood, so even if he had spoken to her he shouldn't miss her. Wouldn't miss her. He didn't miss her now, either, he was sure of it. After all, why would he?
So why did he feel so terrible inside every time he thought about what happened? Why did it hurt to hear Bella speak about the death as if she was but a fly on the wall?
Maybe he really was too young to understand all this. Maybe Hogwarts had ruined him, with all its halfbloods and Mudbloods defiling the place. It was already getting to him, and wasn't that exactly what Father had warned him about?
It occupied his mind for the remainder of the visit, no matter how often he told himself she didn't matter. She kept coming back to him. As he travelled back to his aunt and uncle's that evening, he hadn't even talked to his parents—that's how absent-minded he had been all day. So when he lay in bed that night he vowed to not think about the halfblood girl again, for Bellatrix was right: her death was meaningless.
And as the days went by, his not thinking of Kitty Sharp became easier and less conscious. He was able to fully let go and forget about her in a week's time and focused on more pleasant activities, such as playing Chess with Aunt Druella or taking a broomstick and making short rounds outside—one of the best things of the manor was how isolated it was from other homes, so there was no way a Muggle might stumble across them, unlike their London townhouse (even if it was guarded against that sort of thing).
Narcissa receiving her NEWT results ended with her being more of herself and less agitated when it came to Regulus and Uncle Cygnus followed her lead, though he still wasn't exactly happy to have him there. Even Sirius warmed up to him by the end of July, which meant it was time for his plan: the burial chamber. He'd wanted to show it to Sirius for as long as he could remember, and he just couldn't pass on this opportunity—all three of them were there, close to that library, close to that hidden burial chamber. It had to happen now.
The perfect opportunity arose on the last day of July, when Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella had urgent matters to attend and left them in the care of Narcissa. He asked her that morning if she could take both him and Sirius to the chamber. She agreed, albeit reluctantly, so he sat down at the breakfast table next to her and opposite Sirius (who was stuffing his face with bacon) with nerves soaring through his body. What would Sirius' reaction be?
"This is really good," Sirius said with his mouth full, tossing him some bacon. "You should try some."
"No thank you," he said, wrinkling his nose. He did like his aunt's bacon a lot (he even dared to say it was better than the bacon at Hogwarts, maybe even better than Kreacher's) but not now and not in the manner Sirius was eating it. It was almost disgusting to watch. What was he, a barbarian?
"Suit yourself." Sirius continued to eat his bacon, deliberately chewing with his mouth open in a way he knew was annoying.
It took all his strength and power not to lash out at his brother right then and there—he needed them to be on good terms if he wanted Sirius to see the burial chamber.
"Fine, we'll go alone," he said to Narcissa.
This got Sirius' attention. "Go where?"
He smirked. "The burial chamber."
"The what?"
"The burial chamber," he repeated. "It's hidden in the house. Cissy showed me ages ago."
"Showed you, and not me?"
"You didn't want to see it. You said it didn't exist."
"Are we going, or what?" Narcissa interrupted, "I've a wedding to plan, you know."
Sirius jumped to his feet. "Fine. I'm coming with."
They went to the library and, just as they had last time, stopped in front of the bookcase in the back. Everything was how he had remembered it to be: the scent of old books, the atmosphere, the great view... the only difference was how he felt. He remembered how nervous he had been back then; now he was excited to go back. But it made sense. He was older now—nearly twelve, and he had been only seven at the time.
The floor shook, just as it had last time, and the bookcase sank. The dark corridor was revealed and starkly reminded him of the one in Hogwarts—were all hidden passageways the same?
He followed Narcissa through the corridor without a hint of fead – oh, how different it was now he was older and wiser, and knew what he was getting himself into – but to his displeasure, so did Sirius. A small part of him had hoped for his brother to be as scared as he had been, but Sirius was older than he was, and a Gryffindor at that. Yet seeing his smug face as he strutted through the corridor still made his blood boil, so he was quite pleased when it grew so dark he couldn't see it any more.
The light returned ever so slightly when they reached the door at the end of the corridor and Narcissa turned to face them both. "I'll go first."
"Why you?" asked Sirius.
"I live here."
She put her hand on the handle and the door swung open, revealing the utter darkness that lay beyond. It closed after her and Regulus turned to face his brother, trying his best to not think back to his first time here and the embarrassing terror he had felt. He'd been such a dumb little kid back then—he'd gone through much worse already. A dark corridor was nothing to him.
"I'll go next," he said.
"Why do you get to go second?" Sirius questioned again.
"Because, unlike you, I actually want to see it," he said, and he didn't wait for Sirius to answer. He put his hand on the handle and pulled open the door, stepping into the darkness which transfigured into the burial chamber.
It looked the same as he remembered and was beautiful as ever, but he hardly got the time to take it all in; Sirius appeared behind him, loudly proclaiming: "That's all?"
"That's all? Look around you, cousin. This is all. Literally—everyone who has ever lived is gathered here. If you're quiet, you might even hear them."
"Yeah, right," he muttered.
"Just shut up," Regulus said. As Always, Sirius was just ruining things with his useless commentary and his awful attitude towards everything that had anything to do with the family. "You never should've come."
"Well I wanted to. I don't like you two keeping secrets from me."
He didn't want them keeping secrets from him?! He was the one keeping secrets! "Well, you better get used to not the whole world revolving around you!"
"You don't think I know that?! You don't think I've heard PLENTY OF TIMES that I don't matter? That you're perfect and I'm a complete failure?!"
"Yeah, I do think that," he said. A little humility would do his brother some good. It was a good thing he hadn't brought his wand, or else... Well, he didn't really know any curses, but he could fantasise about it nonetheless.
Sirius spun around and left, slamming the door shut behind him—the sound echoed through the chamber, leaving behind an eerie atmosphere which immediately made Regulus feel bad about what he had said. Not that Sirius hadn't deserved it, but this wasn't the right place for such a thing, near all their ancestors, where they could hear them clear as day. It wasn't appropriate.
He turned to Narcissa, who stood facing a wall, inspecting it as if it were the most intersting object she'd ever seen. "Cissy..."
She looked up. "Don't you think you should go after him?" she asked after a few moments.
He shrugged. Should he? He didn't know. Would he even listen if he went after him, would he care? He highly doubted it. Maybe it was better this way, leaving Sirius to himself for a bit.
Narcissa only nodded and turned away from him once more, but not before Regulus caught a glimpse of her face... was that a tear?
He stayed in the burial chamber with Narcissa until it was late and Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus were bound to come back soon. He was in bed by the time they arrived at the house, and he lay there tossing and turning and trying his best to fall asleep—but when he did, he only slept for a couple of minutes before he woke up screaming. What he had dreamt of, he couldn't remember, but he was awfully nauseous and unable to find a good sleeping position each time it happened.
He hadn't had nightmares in a long time and he hated they started again, but they had. The following night was the same, as was the night after that. At first he thought that perhaps the exchange with Sirius was what caused it, but when they continued for a week past it he knew that couldn't be it. Then he thought it was due to the horrible weather, for it was awfully hot with temperatures up to 30C. It was impossible to find sleep on those nights even if his nightmares weren't involved, not to speak of the nausea that started to linger even during the day.
It was a horrible way to start the month of his birthday, the month of his cousin's wedding, the last month before Hogwarts started up again. It was a horrible way to spend any time, but especially a horrible way to spend time during the holidays. He could only hope this feeling went away before the big events.