The bright light blinded him and blinking didn't seem to make it go away. He tried to shield his eyes with his hands, and then the covers of the bed, but it prevailed. With a loud sigh, he pulled himself into a sitting position and wiped the sleep from his eyes, properly waking up.

His legs were stiff and he still wore his school robes and his shoes. The covers were a dull grey, he noticed, and didn't really feel the same as the ones at school or at home. The walls were covered in ugly, flowery wallpaper and the pink curtains were wide open, letting in that annoying morning sun. This wasn't his dorm, nor was it his bedroom at home. He was still at the Malfoys, and his empty plate from last night's rushed meal still stood upon the desk. Dobby wasn't as fervent a cleaner as Kreacher.

His trunk stood next to the desk. It was just what he needed, some fresh robes and a comb through his hair. He climbed out of bed and gathered everything he needed before disappearing into the bathroom.

A long bath later, he went downstairs to get some breakfast. He decided he'd just go to that little dining area again, the one behind the drawing room, since he had no idea where the kitchen could be. The manor was rather large, after all—he'd estimate it thrice the size of Grimmauld Place, possibly even larger. Trying to find the kitchen by himself would be impossible. He was lucky to have remembered the way to this dining area!

Inside the dining area sat Lucius, who lifted his head when Regulus entered the room, but remained silent. Next to him sat Bellatrix, her back to the door. He still knew it was her because of the way her hair danced around with the slightest movement.

Narcissa wasn't there.

"She's out," said Lucius, answering his question before he could ask it. "Shopping for some last-minute Christmas presents, no doubt."

"Or avoiding you," said Bellatrix.

"Or that," Lucius agreed. He got to his feet. "But feel free to join us, Regulus. Come, grab a plate. Make yourself at home."

He slowly moved around the table. "Where are you going?"

"I have a meeting with someone who is very important, so you'll be here with just Bellatrix today."

"I don't need looking after, I'm twelve years old."

"And she isn't here to look after you, she's here to teach you some valuable skills in duelling."

He looked over at Bella, who still sat in her chair, unfazed by the discussion. "Is it true? You're teaching me how to duel?"

"Perhaps," she said. "We'll see."

"See what? Narcissa said-"

"He needs to be ready, Lucius. He is still young."

"Why, some at his age already know all the curses-"

"Regulus is not your halfblood, Lucius," she interrupted again, eyes narrowing. "And you are not his mentor."

"That much is obvious," he retaliated. "He'd actually be learning if that was the case."

Bellatrix pushed back her chair and let her fork clatter down onto her plate. "You want to teach him? Fine. But be prepared to face Walburga when he inevitably messes it up."

"I won't mess it up!" Regulus protested.

"Keep out of it!" Bellatrix snapped. "What's your choice, Lucius? Will you teach Walburga and Cygnus' precious baby? Will you tell them when something's gone wrong with the hexes? When he's got hurt?"

Lucius stared back at her for a good few seconds before marching out of the room.

"What was that all about?" he whispered after he heard the door to the drawing room close.

"Nothing," she hummed.

"Are you really my mentor? Mentor in what?"

"Duelling, of course. We don't want a repeat of last summer, do we?"

Regulus quickly shook his head.

"Very well. Follow me."

The emptiness in his stomach gnawed at him but he did his best to ignore it. Food could wait when duelling lessons were at stake! So he followed Bellatrix outside to the large gardens that belonged to the manor, which came with a pool, a lounge area, even a little outdoor eating space. They made their way over to the table, but to his disappointment it wasn't set for breakfast. Rather, there was a chess board on there.

A feeling of dread filled his stomach, one that was only heightened when Bellatrix said: "We'll be playing."

"What, chess?!"

"Yes, chess. Unless these look like gobstones to you," she said, taking a bag from her purse and holding it upside-down. The pieces clattered onto the board and stumbled to their feet, loudly protesting Bellatrix's careless handling of them. "It's a great game to develop logical reasoning."

"But I already know all this. I used to win all the time whenever I played Sirius."

"Sirius has the patience of a two-year-old."

"So?!"

"So of course you can beat him. It's nothing to boast about."

He made to pull a face at her, but quickly changed his mind. "But you said you were going to teach me how to duel."

She let out a sigh. "And I am teaching you how to duel, but you must first understand that a wizard's duel is about logical knowledge first. It is a physical act second. Magic only comes into it if you manage to not die before you can cast your first spell, which is entirely dependent on the first two aspects. Now," she said, sitting down. "White or black?"

He still didn't understand how chess would help him duel, but it was best to keep that to himself. "I'll take black," he mumbled, and the chess pieces and pawns made their way onto the board and set themself up in starting position.

Bellatrix opened the game by directing her pawn to e4. As it moved two squares ahead, the queen decided to blow raspberries at him and he angrily told his own pawn to move to d5. Bellatrix's pawn took it, causing her queen to burst out in laughter in a manner that really didn't befit a queen. Could Bellatrix's pieces not behave?

He looked up at her but her face was unreadable. Her queen was still making fun of him, and her pawn was in the line of fire for his own queen. Oh, he could take the pawn so easily and even the score. It was a good move. He usually played it against Sirius and won. But he was playing Bellatrix... no—a good move is a good move. "Queen-"

"Please, not me! Not me! Anyone but me!" The squeaky voice was that of his own queen, who stood quivering at the mention of her name. She was being unnecessarily emotional, he decided. She had nothing to fear. It was a fine move to make, she just had to grow more confident in his skills; he was playing with Bellatrix's set, so the pieces were biased against him from the beginning, making this a rather unfair game. That was all.

He was resolute. "Take d5."

The queen stumbled forwards, tears streaming down her face, and smashed the pawn. Bellatrix countered with another pawn on c4—and drew a sharp breath as just his queen took her pawn. She hadn't expected that, had she? No, she must've thought him a cautious player. A triumphant grin tugged at his lips and he looked up to see if he could read her face this time, see the confusion in her eyes.

Bellatrix was no longer seated. She no longer minded the game. His grin had disappeared; her hand now lay protectively across her left forearm, where he knew her Mark to be. The very Mark she'd let him see, the very Mark she'd let him touch. The skull and the snake... they had to be brilliant to look at now, vibrant in colour. If he could just get another glance, just one look before it died out again...

She Disapparated before he could summon the courage to ask her about it, leaving him with nothing but screaming chess pieces. "What?!" he yelled at the black queen, that had resorted to calling him names to get his attention.

"You shouldn't have sent me here, don't you see that bishop?! I'm not disposable!"

As if that mattered now. "You were going to get killed. I had to move you."

"I can move anywhere on the board, and you move me to the most dangerous-"

"Well, then why didn't you say so right away?!"

"I did! I tried to tell you!"

"She really did," said the king, because of course he did. He was so done with this.

"You heard him!" the queen yelled. "You heard him! I did try and stop you, but did you listen? Noooo, young sir here thinks himself a grandmaster for beating his brother a few times! You've done nothing but lose-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! I won't be told what to do by some enchanted, carved out, wooden-"

"Ivory, actually-" the bishop interjected.

He swiped his hand across the table, wiping the pieces onto the ground. "Enough!" He stormed off, leaving the table and the board and the queen and king and bishop and all the other annoying pieces for what they were. He circled around the garden, stomping his feet hard onto the grass in the hope it would die under the pressure of his feet. He could go back, destroy those arrogant pieces all at once. He could throw them out, bury them alive, make them suffer for their annoying behaviour.

He could make them pay.

It would be so easy to make them pay. But they weren't his, and he couldn't destroy Bellatrix's set. Of course this was precisely the issue he had with these chess pieces; they weren't his, so they didn't want him to win. They didn't trust him. They rooted for Bellatrix and conspired against him as if he was some kind of evil monster to be fought. But he didn't have his own set on him, he'd left it at home and there was no way to retreat it now. Perhaps he could take it with him next time he got there. Perhaps he could play chess with Sirius again when he next saw him at Hogwarts. Perhaps...

No. He shook his head at nothing in particular as if the motion would put more force behind his decision; no. He couldn't play Sirius, for Sirius wouldn't want to play. Not in school, not so long he had those despicable cronies of his following him around everywhere, turning him into someone he wasn't. There was no need to get his chess set out because Sirius would only laugh at him for trying.

He was still sulking in the gardens when the sun began to set. He was still thinking about Sirius, and Hogwarts, and Sirius, and Sirius' friends, and he couldn't believe the time when he looked down on his watch. Was Bellatrix still away?

He walked down to where they had played and everything was as he had left it. The chess pieces, though now neatly assembled, still lay on the ground. He knew that Bellatrix would've collected them if she'd seen them, so that could only mean one thing.

He left the gardens in search of Bellatrix, or at the very least Lucius or Narcissa. Surely one of them must've come home since? And where was that house elf of theirs?

"Dobby?" he called out as he checked the drawing room. It was empty and there was no response. Up next was the little dining area, but it was the same story there. He looked in every room he knew but they were all deserted, even Lucius and Narcissa's bedroom on the first floor. The entire house was deserted.

A chill ran down his spine at that sudden realisation. Of course, this wasn't the first time he was home alone, but Malfoy manor wasn't the same as Grimmauld Place. He wasn't as familiar with it. Kreacher wasn't here, the paintings on the walls were of people he'd never met and the house was a maze aside from the few rooms he knew to find—perhaps that meant he wasn't home alone, after all, for there were other rooms Narcissa and Lucius could be hiding in? It was likely, though, that Lucius had gone when Bella did, leaving him with Narcissa. He wouldn't mind that. Narcissa was better than Lucius, and better than Bellatrix. She was kind, patient...

There was a soft clang and he turned his head towards the noise, but he couldn't find anything that could have caused it. Another clang followed, then a loud bang that definitely came from downstairs, so he hurried to the landing and peered over the railing just as the front door opened.

Bellatrix walked in, her face covered in a dark red substance that had trickled down her chin. Regulus ran down the stairs and didn't take his eyes off her. The red had stained her robes, but since they were black that was hardly visible from afar, yet now he neared her it was painfully obvious. In her left hand, she carried a mask that was just as bloody – oh God, it was blood, wasn't it? – as the rest of her. In her right she held her wand.

"Goodness, are you all right?" Narcissa appeared from a door on the right and hastened over to her.

Bellatrix cackled. "Oh, I am; this blood isn't mine."

Narcissa's face scrunched up for a moment, and she nodded stiffly. "Is there anything you need? Where is Lucius?"

"I'm fine. Lucius... will arrive shortly."

"In good state, I presume?"

"Naturally. He is with a new recruit."

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Do I look like a clock?"

Narcissa sighed. "I'll run you a bath, get that cleaned up..."

She left, and Bellatrix took the opportunity. She turned to Regulus and knelt down as if speaking with a toddler. He looked down upon her unruly hair that was stuck together by chunks of dried up blood. Blood that wasn't hers yet somehow made it into her hair. Blood he wasn't sure he wanted to know more about.

"Are you ready for your duelling lesson?"

He was. He so desperately wanted to say he was ready, but he couldn't—the blood on Bellatrix's face, the blood in her hair... would he be covered in blood as well, if he did these duelling lessons with her? Was she, perhaps, not the best person to ask? Should he decline and approach Lucius with this question, or Narcissa, or even Mother or Father?

"There are two kinds of people," said Bellatrix all of a sudden, getting back on her feet. "Some ignore pain, others let it consume them. But if you want to see the world, if you want to truly see this world for what it is—harness it. Use it. Let it strengthen you."

"What do you mean?"

"Pain – be it emotional or physical – is a tool. You can crumble under its power or wield it yourself. If you let it fuel your desires, if you understand pain isn't something to be feared, but to embrace; you will be unstoppable. Don't let a little blood turn you away," she added, patting his head. "We will start tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Your bath's ready!" Narcissa called out from upstairs.

Bellatrix winked. "Tomorrow."

All night he lay in bed, staring out of the window at the skies, watching as they first grew darker before becoming light again; tomorrow became today, and today they would duel. Today he would learn, truly learn, whatever there was to know about duelling and it was extremely exciting—he was dressed and downstairs before anyone else, sitting at the table in the dining area all by himself, with not even dobby for company. He suspected Dobby was cooking breakfast, but he had no idea how to find out since he still had no idea where the kitchen was.

He stared around the small room for lack of a better thing to do. Next to the door hung the portrait of a young woman with the same locks of white-blond hair Lucius had. She smiled softly at him and he hesitantly waved, then averted his gaze. He didn't know what to do. Who was that woman? She was clearly related to Lucius, but how? He was curious but at the same time, he had no interest in asking her about it. He couldn't be too nosy. He was a guest in this house.

So he resorted to twiddling his thumbs for a few seconds before he realised he was twiddling his thumbs and he picked up his fork as a diversion strategy. He started to twirl the fork around and took his knife in his other hand—the fork and the knife turned out to be great swords able to battle each other. It was great practice for later today when he'd get to battle, albeit with his wand, but the fork and the knife could just as easily turn into wands and cast hexes and curses at each other. He moved the fork and knife with much dramatics.

The door opened and he dropped both knife and fork to the side of his plate again. Narcissa had entered and he didn't want his cousin to see he had been doing anything but sitting around. What if she thought he was playing with the silverware, as a child would? He was no child, and he hadn't been playing. He had been practising and there was a difference, though he doubted she would see it that way.

"Good morning, Regulus," she greeted him as she sat down at the table, opposite him. "Are you all ready for today?"

"Of course I am!"

"Are you sure? We can still cancel it. She isn't here yet."

"No, don't cancel! I want to learn how to duel. I need to know how to properly do this."

"Very well. Lucius and I are going out today so you'll have the house to yourselves until—" the door opened again, this time Lucius entered the room "—around four..." She watched Lucius as he sat down at the head of the table.

"Good morning," said Lucius. "Big day ahead! Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," answered Regulus. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"That is a very good question. Hold onto that for when Bella gets here."

"Why would I-" he started, but the food appeared upon the table and Lucius lost interest in the conversation.

Regulus sighed deeply and decided to fill up his own plate. After all, he didn't want a repeat of yesterday, and only eat supper and nothing else. He needed to get some food in if he wanted to learn how to properly duel.

But what an awkward start of the day! Both Narcissa and Lucius asking him if he's ready as if his answer would be anything but yes. Narcissa saying it's not too late yet. Lucius' odd comment about when Bella got here. Hadn't Lucius been pressuring Bella just yesterday to teach him real stuff? Hadn't Narcissa arranged for all of this?

It was supposed to be the greatest day of his life since at least the day his Hogwarts letter had arrived, but all three of them (considering Bellatrix's dumb chess game yesterday) were busier trying to get him to fail than succeed. Did they not want him to have these skills? Did they really still see him as a young child of six years incapable of doing anything by himself?

At least the food kept them silent now, and provided him with an excellent excuse to not talk to them also. When Lucius and Narcissa had their plates cleared, they stood up from the table, and simply walked away. No goodbyes, nothing.

Regulus followed them all the way to the front door. It shut behind them, and they were gone, and he was left all alone. Bella could be here any minute now, there was no other reason for the Malfoys' sudden departure.

He sat down on the cold stone floor by the front door and waited fifteen whole minutes before getting up again. Bellatrix still hadn't arrived—what was she waiting for? They had the whole day to practise (or at least until four, but at this rate she may as well get here with only four minutes to go).

He began pacing the hallway. It was pointless to wait here in the hallway and yet he was scared that, if he left to do something for himself, she'd arrive just then and he'd miss it, and she'd refuse to teach him any more, and he'd have to explain his impatience only to be seen as a child once again. So he paced up and down, occasionally stopping to tell a portrait to shut up, for forty more minutes before he heard a clang come from the door.

He flung to the floor, clutching his stomach which erupted into a tickling sensation that spread throughout his body until he lay shaking uncontrollably to try and stop it. His insides hurt, he sprained a few muscles with his involuntarily movements, and he was crying with unwilling laughter before it stopped as suddenly as it had started.

He caught his breath, his laughter dying out slowly. Everything still hurt, but he tried to focus on something else. He lifted his head and caught sight of long, black curls that could only belong to one person.

"Bella!" he called out. She stood afore him with her hand outstretched and it took him a few seconds to realise she was holding his wand. He grasped hold of it and got back onto his feet, newly energised.

"Now, stand back," she said, "wand raised—bow—Expelliarmus!"

He was still mid-bow when he was flung through the air, landing on the stairs and tumbling down seconds after. His wand had already left his hand but he remained unable to grasp the railing. He tried to make himself as small as possible. It was only a few steps but it hurt so much it may as well have been a full flight, and when he reached the bottom he lay motionless.

Bellatrix hovered over him, once again holding out his wand for him to take. "Get up."

He stumbled to his feet and grabbed the wand. His whole body must've bruised from his fall but since Bella pretended nothing had happened he didn't dare to ask her about healing. He didn't dare to even mention his pain. What was it she had said, last night? Harness it. How on earth was he to do that?!

"Ready?"

"No-!" But it didn't matter; his wand flew from his tight grip and he stumbled backwards, though the spell didn't send him flying across the hall this time. She was going easy on him, he thought, before the second spell shot from her wand in a dash of silver and he lay on the floor again, laughing as uncontrollably as he had just moments ago, begging for mercy as he rolled around in desperation. Nothing brought him any relief, not until Bella lifted the spell and he could breathe again. He could barely pull himself together and assume a sitting position, because he knew by now that Bella wouldn't let him rest for long.

Sure enough, there she stood again, holding out his wand for him to take as if it made any difference if he was armed or not. "You're too strong," he complained, his whole body aching more with every word he spoke. "I don't want to do this any more."

"Nonsense," she said. "Take it. Get on your feet."

"But-"

"On your feet."

He resigned and stood upright again. He took his wand and looked at Bellatrix. What now? Another bout of lying on the floor, at her mercy?

But this time she pocketed her own wand and stood next to him. "So, feet apart, bend those knees" she said, her tone suddenly soft. "No, no, not that far, just a little..."

He tried to do as she said, bending his knees with his feet apart, but he must've done it wrong because she grasped his left leg with both hands and pulled it into the right position, a little behind his other leg, his foot pointing away from his body.

"Now get your hand out—no, your other hand, your free one. Hold it backwards—backwards, Regulus, to the—like so," she said, demonstrating it by throwing her own free hand up in the air with one slow dramatic movement until it rested behind her head, bent in a way as if she was holding a lantern.

He mimicked her.

"That's it! Now, wand ready..." she left his side and faced him, assuming a similar position.

"No, wait!" he called out, before she could hit him. "I don't understand. It's so impractical."

She relaxed her position. "It is necessary."

"But why? Why is it necessary to get all worked up? Won't the opponent just be faster?!"

"In a duel, both parties adhere to the rules as laid out by the duelling committee. There are certain combative positions allowed. This is the most practical of the lot."

He let out a funny sound.

She narrowed her eyes. "You don't believe me. Who would have thought you already knew all about duelling!"

"I don't, I just-"

"Hex me."

"What?"

"You heard me, hex me. Any hex. Anything you can think of. Come on. Let's see what you can do."

He hesitated; his mind was racing as he tried to think of a spell to cast, one Bellatrix would be proud of, one she wouldn't think childish, one she wouldn't be able to deflect so easily. He raised his wand at her and tried his best to focus—Expelliarmus, perhaps? Or that charm she used, the Tickling Charm? Or something else entirely...?

He lowered the wand. "I don't know what to do..."

"Of course you do. Cast the hex."

"I... I can't."

She sighed and shook her head. "How can you learn if you're not prepared to put in any work?"

"I am prepared!"

"No, you're not. If you were, you would've attacked me by now. Come on, Regulus. Show me what you've got"

He pointed his wand straight at her again. "Rictusempra!"

Bellatrix didn't move an inch, and she didn't reach for her wand, either. She had no need to, because nothing happened. His spell hadn't worked at all.

He looked away in frustration, his face burning with humiliation when Bellatrix let out a laugh. He had told her he couldn't do it. He had told her! He was so embarrassed he could cry.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, feeling like a failure. "This is harder than I thought it would be."