James and Mr. Evans were awake and trying to do their best to keep their laughter and chatter at bay but failing heavily. Ellis pulled the curtains back and crept downstairs. The clock in the living room read 5:19. Not even three hours of sleep.

She wanted some water, but she wasn't sure about going through their cabinets to find a glass. Instead, Ellis wandered over to the open door in the kitchen which led to a small backyard. James seemed to be showing Mr. Evans some magic. Ellis' frowned—she always thought that muggles couldn't see magic, but maybe it was just magical beings like fairies and pixies? But, they had stories about that too. She shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her mind.

Neither noticed her as she left the house.

She exited quietly, stepping out onto the stone ledge. A pebble dug into her bare foot, her toes crunching on a piece of paper.

Ellis reached for it, surprised to see that it was almost entirely Ancient Ruins. There was a complex diagram made of overlapping concentric circles, the center of which was the small figure of the Evans' home. A warding plan, Ellis realized. She studied it and then looked at James. In truth, she knew very little of the Marauders beyond her few interactions with them and what she was able to glean from gossip and rumors. She knew most about Sirius, but that was a result of exposure to Regulus and her father's friendship with Orion Black.

James Potter was good at magic. Quick with a wand and unfailingly creative too—that she knew from watching him hex Snape over the years. But, she didn't think him capable of creating such a complex web of wards without opening a book. He was casting them perfectly too, all while holding a conversation with Mr. Evans. He hadn't once glanced back at the paper.

Ten Death Eaters fallen under his wand? Ellis wished she had kept count to see how close she'd come to doing the same.

"Oi, Selwyn, you're awake," said James, aiming a wide smile at her. "Took some liberties with that, but pretty good, isn't it?"

Ellis nodded. It was more than good. Genius, maybe. It entwined with the light layer of magic Lily had put up. "Did you modify the Concealment Charm?"

"Had to. It'd take a few too many memory charms to make the muggles forget this place was here, so I figured I leveled it out for wizards. Worse comes to worse, they won't be able to map it."

Ellis read between the lines. If the Ministry fell and Voldemort's side won, they'd surely start trying to register and map every muggleborn house in the country as targets for elimination. The Evans' house would be warded to wizarding standards after he was done. It wasn't impregnable, but unless they were willing to go to the extremes and cast a Fidelius, it would buy the Evans' time to escape if needed. Did a Fidelius still work if a muggle was a Secret Keeper? She opened her mouth to ask, but then felt a sudden sense of embarrassment. Was she really going to ask James Potter?

"You can be impressed," said James, haughtily. "I'm the impressive sort."

She scoffed lightly, but didn't deny that she was impressed.

"Did you take Ancient Ruins?" she asked.

"Mum made me learn when I was a kid. Came in handy when the boys and I wanted to keep people out of our business. Course I had to teach the lot, but they caught on quick."

If anything, Ellis grew annoyed by the answer. She studied. There was no way around it, particularly when it came to examining magical theories. Luckily, she enjoyed reading. Wandwork had always come a bit naturally, so practical exams required less attention, but Ellis was used to working to hone her skills. Dueling club, study sessions, pestering her professors, befriending Madam Pince—she suspected that James Potter did none of this and could still go toe to toe with her.

Ellis didn't like that.

Mr. Evans cleared his throat and looked to her with a cheery smile. "James tells me that you live on an wizarding island?"

"The Isle of Fenn."

"Now, where exactly is that? You see, I'm a pilot and I can't imagine that it didn't show up on our radars."

"Dorset is the closest shore, but it's not the only one. You can enter from the Irish side as well."

"Is it that big?" he asked, blinking in shock.

"No." An awkward pause followed, and Ellis realized that he was waiting for her to explain, "Technically, wizards can see it anywhere along the coast, but if they tried going there, they'd get lost. There are enchantments to prevent people from going and you need to pay the toll."

"Like a troll bridge?" Ellis gave a vague nod, "What's the toll?"

"It used to be blood, and then it was three tasks for travelers after the whole witch burning business, but now it's a galleon," said Ellis, very upset by this fact. "Everyone's still worked up about the Ministry outlawing it."

"What kind of tasks?"

"Riddles, mostly. There was a Sphinx in charge of it at one point, but then there was all this commotion about a poisoned chalice and some muggles. One of my ancestors ended up booking a long stay at Azkaban. He's been haunting us ever since."

Mr. Evans blinked rapidly and then looked very interested in hearing the full story. Ellis hesitated, her attention drifting from Mr. Evans and back to James's intricate diagram. She could see that James had layered it brilliantly to avoid magical interference from the Muggle wiring of the house. She hated to admit it, but he had done an extraordinary job.

There was something itching at the back of her mind, an inkling of a half-buried notion that she'd picked up over time. She remembered flicking through a stack of her grandmother's notes that mentioned how protective wards could be tethered to physical anchors, not just property lines.

"Potter." Ellis began, schooling her expression into something cool and casual, "Why don't you add a few runestone? They have the space."

James's eyes lit up at once and he lowered his wand, wandering over to her. "Right now, I've got everything layered around these key points," he said, tapping his wand on the parchment where the circles he'd drawn—boundaries of the charms he was placing—intersected. "I don't want to upset that, but if we added a few runestone, I guess we could feed part of the wards into them and reduce stress on the main boundary lines. Right?"

Ellis nodded, faintly disturbed that he caught on so quickly. "You could use a variant of Ehwaz or maybe Algiz. That way, if they're attacked, the wards don't just break. They'll rebound whatever spells are cast on them. And if you feed them a drop or two of blood—wizarding, not Muggle," she clarified, glancing quickly at Mr. Evans, "It should make it hard to break without digging up the stones. It's not dark magic," she added hastily. "It's just old. Very old."

James grinned and turned to clap Mr. Evans on the shoulder. "We'll keep it clean, promise." His gaze shifted to Ellis. "Get your wand out."

She swallowed her annoyance—he could at least say 'please.' Still, the excitement at seeing advanced wards come to life almost outweighed her frustration with him. "We'll need four stones, each about the size of a fist. Do you have any spare rocks in the garden or something similar?"

"I do," Mr. Evans said, already heading out to find them, eager to participate in whatever they were doing. She doubted he understood any of it. "I'll find some good ones."

The moment he was gone, James turned to Ellis again, grin still in place. "You're pretty decent," he said earnestly and then tacked on, "Can't believe I'm saying that to a Slytherin."

She shrugged. She refused to do anything by halves. "I am the best of the bunch."

James laughed.

He turned back to the diagram, and Ellis moved beside him, narrowing her eyes in concentration as she sketched in small runic sigils at four compass points around the line that represented the Evans' lawn. If they carved and buried those stones properly, the wards would not only be harder to break—they'd alert the casters as soon as someone tried.

By the time the runestones were carved, charmed, and ready to go into the ground, the sun had fully risen, and she could hear Mrs. Evans toiling about in the kitchen making breakfast.

When Lily arrived, it was James that carefully explained all that he'd done, having noticed and worried that her family would be targeted given Voldemort's growing numbers. Lily did not speak; she seemed unable to must the right words to convey how moved she was. For all the trouble they'd gone through, Ellis was sure it would pay off for James.

"The wards need… well, your blood."

Lily pricked her fingers without hesitation. She held her hand over the first stone, and droplets of blood, startlingly red against the gray surface, fell. At first, the blood simply beaded on the rock, like water. Then they sank in, pulled downward by an unseen force, vanishing until the stone held no trace of redness. Where the blood touched, the runes came alive, glowing with light. When the final runestone was activated, the air grew thick and charged.

The air intertwined into a tightly woven, silverly net extending high above them. It curved up and around the house, piece by piece, until it formed a complete dome. For a heartbeat, it hovered there, and then it disappeared entirely.

"That's it?" Lily asked, voice rasping slightly. She flexed her pricked fingers. "I can feel it."

James nodded, "It should be tuned to you now, so even when you're at Hogwarts…if something happens or they get destroyed, you'll know. You were worried. And Mary too. We could go down to her place when we've got a Hogsmeade weekend and put some up for—"

Ellis decided it was time for her to leave. Mr. Evans seemed to have the same idea because he quickly opened the back door and ushered her into the kitchen. "Let's give them some time alone, yes?"

Mrs. Evans made them a full English breakfast. Ellis didn't like beans or fried tomatoes or sausages, but she forced them down, not wanting to be rude. Her stomach felt rather bloated afterwards, protesting the fact that her usual jammy toast and fruit were missing.

It wasn't long until Lily and James joined them inside. Though Lily was avoiding his gaze, frowning at the table, James seemed to have gained a determined gleam in his eye. Ellis predicted that by Christmas, the two would be dating.

Sirius Black seemed to have trouble waking up. His head kept falling from his propped fist, nearly ramming into his plate. James' sharp instincts caught him before he could fall. Ellis felt ill suddenly, wondering if Regulus had watched as Sirius turned from his brother into a stranger. Watched as James Potter slid into the role he'd been trying to cling to his whole life. Had she ever been envious of Ned and his friends? She didn't think so, but it was different for her. She was the older sister, the one meant to protect him, and Regulus…no one had ever protected him, had they?

She looked away, deciding he wasn't worth her time.

"You're engaged," said Ellis, noting the ring on Petunia's finger. It was silver and shiny, and the diamond was rather large. Ellis leaned over to get a better look at it. "That's very pretty."

Petunia sniffed, "Yes, well, my Vernon works very hard."

"What does he do?"

"He's a junior executive at Grunnings—it's a drilling company. I worked there as a typist, and we see each other in the hall and then started having lunch together before we dated."

"How did he propose? Was it romantic? My cousin got married this past summer, but that was all arranged, so there was very little—"

"Arranged? Is that what wizards do?"

"It's common among pureblood families. One of the girls in my year—Maisie Burke—got betrothed to this rather wealthy man, but he's much older. She's so angry about it, that she's been going around living life in a broom closet," said Ellis, a bit awkwardly. "One last hurrah."

"Can't she say no?"

"Her family needs the money. Her father made a terrible investment on the Kwikspell Company's course for Squibs—those are magical children without magic—and the Ministry cracked down on them hard, so there's no getting out of it."

"Poor thing."

Ellis nodded, "We don't get along, but still…" Ellis didn't think Maisie deserved the hand she'd been dealt. There wasn't a single girl, Slytherin or not, that deserved it, but short of running away and being disowned, Maisie had little choice, but to do as she was told. "When is the wedding?"

"May."

"It'll be warm then," said Ellis, nodding in approval. "Oh, muggles go on those trips afterwards—what are they called?"

"A honeymoon. We're going to Spain—Vernon's arranged all of it already."

"Have you picked out your dress already? Did you—"

"We're still sorting out all the details," said Petunia coolly, throwing her sister a shrewd look. "I don't want any incidents at the wedding."

Petunia and she spoke a bit more and Ellis got the distinct impression that she blamed Lily for a lot of unspoken incidents in her life. It was strange to see the same sort of intolerance that most purebloods had regarding muggles reflected in Petunia's attitude toward magic. She imagined that fury and fervor of the age of witch-burnings had been fanned by the same hatred.

After breakfast, they sat around the table discussing their path back to Hogwarts. According to the two-way mirror that Sirius conveniently had, Remus Lupin confirmed that no one in Hogwarts seemed particularly interested in their whereabouts and none of the teachers had come looking for them. He also confirmed that the members of the Howling Hexes were all dead. At least six Death Eaters had been caught by the Aurors and there was an investigation happening.

Sneaking back into Hogwarts would require them going through Honeydukes Cellar once again, but without his invisibility cloak—Ellis started at that, eager to hear more—they had little chance of doing it unseen, so they'd need to sneak in via the Shrieking Shack, but both boys didn't seem particularly enthused by the idea.

"We don't need to do all that," said Ellis, torn between adding one more spoonful of sugar in her tea or another splash of milk. "I know how to get us back without going through Hogsmeade."

"You do?"

"You're not the only ones who know Hogwarts' secret," said Ellis, simply. "Wizards are very stupid when it comes to magic. We think we're the only ones with it, so when we put up wards…especially Anti-Apparition wards…we do so only thinking about ourselves, but we're not the only ones with magic."

"House elves," realized James, instantly. "House elves apparate into and out of Hogwarts all the time."

Ellis decided for the sugar and brought the cup of tea to her mouth, opting for a taste. Too sweet, she thought, full of regret. She set the cup down.

"Hibbs," called Ellis. It took a few seconds but suddenly a loud, crack filled the air. Hibbs appeared on the empty chair causing Petunia to shriek loudly. Hibbs' shrunk back, worrying his hands together, as tears immediately filled his large blue eyes. He was wearing a knitted sweater that went down to his knees and had little sheep peppered throughout. His feet were clad in ruffled socks, and he wore a pair of leather boots on his feet. His pointed ears were hidden beneath a matching knitted hat on his head.

"He's got clothes," said Sirius, blinking in shock.

It was a bit unusual by wizarding standards, but her family had lived on the Isle of Fen for centuries, before England was England or Hogwarts was Hogwarts. Things tended to change slowly there and the shift to pillowcases and smocks that the house elves of Hogwarts adopted had yet to reach the Isle. Ellis was certain it would never catch on.

"Miss Ellis," cried Hibbs, launching himself toward her. "Hibbs has missed you! Pippin and Strawberry won't leave Hibbs alone and Misses Odette is always at work! Hibbs was going to come live at Hoggywarts, he was!"

"I'll give them a big scolding."

"Hibbs has been telling them to behave, he has."

"Hibbs, we'll deal with that later. I need you to do me a favor. Do you think you can help me, and my friends get back to Hogwarts?"

"Oh, yes, Hibbs can do that! Hibbs is happy to know Miss Ellis has friends!" Hibbs looked around the room, taking in each face with an eager look. He sniffled loudly as if trying to hold back another round of tears. "Hibbs is Miss Ellis's first friend!"

She flushed at that too, but didn't deny it.

"W—what is that?" asked Petunia, finally able to recover her voice.

Hibbs puffed his chest out proudly, meeting Petunia's gaze. "Hibbs is an elf, he is."

"Get it ou—"

"Petunia!" cried Lily.

Ellis frowned, narrowing her eyes at the girl. No doubt if it had been a few centuries prior, she would be the first in line to call for a witch hunt. "Ignore her, Hibbs. She's never seen an elf before." She leaned over and whispered loudly, "She's a muggle."

Hibbs gasped, hands flying to his mouth. "Hibbs has never met a muggle! Is this a muggle home? Oh, can Hibbs look? Please, Miss Ellis? Hibbs very much wants to see, he does!"

"You'll have to ask Lily. It's her house."

Not wanting to deny the request, Lily gave Hibbs a tour while Ellis changed out of her borrowed clothes. She transfigured her jacket back into her dress robes and peeked beneath the bandages of her throbbing arm. It was healing and the bleeding had all but stopped, but it would likely always hurt.

When they were all ready to go, Lily hugged her parents goodbye, promising to never again do anything as stupid as she had done last night.

Ellis wanted to go home to her parents. She wanted a hug. She wanted to be scolded and told she'd never be allowed outside again. A wave of loneliness washed over her, and it took all her remaining strength not to cry.

James promised to come back and visit with a cheeky wink that had Mr. Evans laughing while they shook hands. Ellis muttered her own goodbyes and thank-yous, but it went without saying that she would likely never see the family again. Sirius was too cool to say anything at all.

And with another, and hopefully final,CRACK, they were suddenly at Hogwarts.

Apparating with a house elf was far gentler than the nonsense that wizards did. Ellis didn't even feel sick afterwards and Hibbs proudly beamed up at them as they all praised him for helping. An awkward silence fell over them. Ellis avoided looking anywhere but the chip in the wall.

"Right, well, let's never see each other again," said Ellis, nodding her head. She stepped away from the three and hurriedly hustled down the empty corridor. They were on the seventh floor, near an empty corridor that no one ever passed through. Hibbs followed eagerly, chattering away that he wanted to see all of Hoggywarts before he returned home and Strawberry would be so angry that she hadn't been invited.

"Oi, Selwyn, don't go," cried James with a laugh as Sirius and Lily dragged him away. "We're friends now! You said so yourse—"

Ellis pretended not to hear him. Her head pounded, more from the exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours than from any physical blow. Hibbs noticed her weariness immediately.

"Miss Ellis is looking very tired," commented Hibbs as they hassled down the nearest staircase.

"I didn't sleep much."

"Hibbs will get you a dreamless potion," said Hibbs, nodding to himself.

"You don't need to do that," said Ellis with a shake of her head. "I'm just a little hurt, so it was—"

"HURT?" screeched Hibbs, so loudly that his voice sent a few portraits out of their frames. "Miss Ellis was not at Hoggywarts and she was with muggles and oh, oh!" Hibbs stomped around, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "Miss Ellis has been doing secret things! Hibbs will tell Mister Edward, he will!"

Ellis threw the elf an unimpressed look, which deflated the elf's bravado immediately.

Seeing that his threat didn't work, Hibbs threw himself forward, clutching her leg and shaking her back and forth, "Oh, please tell Hibbs what Miss Ellis has been doing! Hibbs will keep it secret. I will, I will, I will!"

"I'll tell you later."

"Hibbs wants to know now!" the elf wailed again, punctuating each word with a fierce tug on Ellis's leg.

"Hibbs, stop—!" Ellis began, but her rebuke came too late. Hibbs yanked her off-balance. She lurched forward, her feet slipping on the edge of the stair. For a split second, her mind went blank. She was sure she'd sprawl headlong into a humiliating, possibly painful tumble.

But a pair of hands clamped around her waist, setting her upright with surprising gentleness and steady strength. She found herself face-to-face with Regulus Black. He kept his hold on her a second longer than strictly necessary. A tightness lingered in his features, and for a second, she thought she saw his gaze drift to her injured arm. He studied her as if to make sure she really was really there, and he couldn't hide fast enough the quiet rush of relief that passed over his features.

"Alright, Selwyn?" he asked softly.

Ellis swallowed, disoriented. "Er—yes. Thank you."

He gave a small, curt nod, as if confirming to himself that she was, indeed, in one piece.

Hibbs scrunched himself into a ball at the base of the staircase, wide-eyed and quivering with guilt. "Hibbs is sorry—Hibbs is so sorry!" he cried, rocking back and forth. "Miss Ellis almost fell to her death!"

"I'm a witch," Ellis reminded him, mustering a calming tone. She reached down and patted the elf's shoulder gently. "I'd come back and haunt you if I died."

Hibbs shook his head furiously, rattling his knitted hat. "Hibbs does not think Miss Ellis is funny!"

A faint smile tugged at Regulus's lips; he quickly schooled it away when Ellis glanced his eyes met. Regulus cleared his throat and glanced away, recomposing himself as he leaned against the banister.

"Your house elf is broken, Selwyn," he said lightly, though a touch of dryness laced his leaned against the banister, exerting a delicate grace that she disliked. She preferred the messiness he displayed at Slughorn's party. "You must keep him out of pity," he said. "My mother would have him hanging if she saw how he behaved."

"Your mother must be very cruel then."

He tilted his head. The air between them thickened with something unsaid.Yes, she is.

The corridor was dim. A row of windows was the only source of light. Ellis could see the subtle flex of his arms as he crossed them in front of his chest. He seemed oddly tense, like he was battling an inner question. At last, he broke the silence.

"You didn't come back last night," he said, voice lowered so only she could hear it.

"Were you waiting for me?"

Regulus inclined his head in acknowledgment, then spoke in a careful, measured way. "I wasn't the one who noticed." He paused, then cleared his throat. "Althea Nott seems to think that you and Potter ran off to elope."

"I'd really be a bloodtraitor then, wouldn't I?"

"Miss Ellis is not a bloodtraitor!" sounded Hibbs. His cheeks colored with fury and his hands balled into fists, "You mustn't call yourself that! Miss Ellis is a lady of the Most Ancient House—"

Before the house elf could blurt more, Ellis held up a hand in a placating gesture. "Alright, Hibbs, let's calm down, shall we? Regulus doesn't need to hear—"

"Regulus is Kreacher's Master," Hibbs interrupted, narrowing his big, bulbous eyes as though measuring Regulus against some personal scale. His tone turned snide, expression almost a copy of Ellis' own scowl. "Yes, yes, Hibbs can see why Kreacher is Kreacher."

That drew a laugh from Ellis. To her astonishment, Regulus let out a quiet laugh as well. It was a bit subdued but undeniably there and Ellis realized that she could not remember the last time she'd heard Regulus laugh. Not truly, not in a way that didn't intend to cause some hard.

Regulus crouched down so he was nearer Hibbs's eye level, his expression was oddly gentle. "And why is that?"

"Kreacher is mean." Hibbs proclaimed, his tone dripping with indignation. "He hit Hibbs with a spoon and called Pippin a nasty brat. You shan't speak to Miss Ellis. Hibbs will not allow it—"

Ellis's eyes widened at the sight of Hibbs's hand twitching, ready to snap his knobby fingers. She knew precisely what that meant—he was about to vanish Regulus somewhere or attempt to. She lunged forward and caught hold of Hibbs's wrist, her injured arm protesting with a sharp twinge.

"Hibbs, why don't you return home?" she said, striving for a soothing tone. She felt the smooth, knitted wool of his little hat brush against her hip as she bent over him. "I'll call on you tomorrow after class, and you can tour the grounds with Ned and his friends."

Hibbs's fierce glare softened a fraction. He looked up at her with watery eyes, his grip loosening. A few long, tense seconds passed, and Ellis felt the burn of Regulus's gaze drifting between her and the elf.

"And Miss Ellis will tell Hibbs her secrets?" the elf asked plaintively, as if daring her to say otherwise.

"Yes."

Hibbs stood there for a moment, eyes darting suspiciously between Ellis and Regulus. Then his face scrunched up like a wrung rag, clearly not pleased that he couldn't remain with Ellis twenty-four hours a day. Nevertheless, he accepted defeat, glowering one last time at Regulus. The elf's ears twitched in agitation, and his little hat bobbed as he tipped his head in warning.

"Hibbs will be going now."

He snapped his fingers and vanished, leaving the corridor oddly quiet in his wake.

Ellis was suddenly hyperaware of Regulus's presence.

A flicker of something—Curiosity?—passed over Regulus's face. She couldn't shake the sense that he saw more than she meant to show, that he'd seen a side of her that Ellis wished to never reveal. Any other witch would have had Hibbs beat himself for such behavior or, as Regulus alluded to, gotten rid of him entirely.

"A lady of the Most Ancient House of Selwyn," he said, completing Hibbs' fragmented sentence. "Do you frequently need to be reminded of who you are?"

"No, but it does seem that other people forget," she replied, shrugging stiffly. Ellis let out a dry huff of laughter, though it lacked any real amusement. "Is Nott in the common room or did she lose her way in Avery's pants?"

"I'm sure she's prowling about; waiting for you."

"I hate her," muttered Ellis.

"I've noticed," he said with a trace of wry amusement. "Should I call the aurors now or after you've dealt with her?"

Ellis shook her head, "Nott can wait."

"If you show her mercy, she'll never let you forget it."

"I need to go to the Hospital Wing."

His deliberate stillness was worse than any questions. He shifted slow and quiet. Regulus took a measured breath, as though steadying himself.

Ellis watched him as he usually watched her. Close, careful, secretly. As though they were unwilling participants in some unspoken war, waiting for the other to flinch first.

She frowned and then spoke, "I got hurt."

"Let me see."

She hesitated, but coaxed him forward, holding out her arm. The sleeve of her robes was left loose to not agitate the bandage. Ellis couldn't wait until it scarred over, and she could go about the common room watching the joy shrivel from people's eyes at the lack of a Dark Mark.

The bandage was undone by deft hands. It seemed that the Heir of the House Black was well versed in the art of undressing. It was still an ugly sight. The gash had yet to close and looked raw at the edges. A shuddering breath skimmed across her skin.

Regulus did not ask her how it happened.

He looked at her and Ellis knew. She knew.

Ellis imagined catching his left wrist in her grasp tightly and revealing the twisted black mark hidden beneath his sleeve. The Dark Mark shifting his skin as if resisting its placement there. The Dark Mark was a door with no lock or key. Once opened, it remained open, a festering wound that could not heal.

Her mouth trembled, and she hated herself for it.

He leaned forward, nearly resting his forehead against her own, his hand, warm and steady, rising to the curve of her neck. Then, as though crossing some invisible barrier, he pulled her against him, pressing in with an almost bruising intensity. The warmth of him, the firm hold of his arms—everything about it was unfamiliar. Yet, she didn't pull away, despite how cruel it felt to have him be the first person to comfort her.

She might have understood him better now, why he had acted how he did. The despair and desperation, the fear of dying, the cage he was locked in, the noose tightening with every step toward the future. He was only a body—and only in a rare moment of pure physicality, could he voice his fears and desires—and even that, his family would one day barter and sell to keep the Blacks forever pure.

It was fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. This was always going to happen. It was inevitable. Nothing could change what was. What had Sirius Black told her? Regulus was weak and this was simply a weakness too. A flaw that she could not fix, just as he was someone she could not save.

You don't want to save him.

But, what if he asked for it? Shouldn't that matter?

Do you think he will? Do you think he cares?

Ellis closed her eyes, willing herself to stay still. If she opened her mouth, if she let the words spill out, she wasn't sure she'd survive the aftermath. Regulus didn't let go, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Ellis let herself lean into the embrace. Just for a moment.

He took her to the Hospital Wing afterwards.

It may have come as a surprise given the high risk of injury at Hogwarts, but Ellis had never been to the Hospital Wing. She had been to St. Mungo's only once, when she was about five after Ned fell off her toy broom and broke his arm. Her mother's healing spell had gone wrong and hardened his arm until it was stiff as stone.

She wasn't sure what the witch's name was, but she seemed to know Regulus well as her face split into a smile upon seeing him. She bustled over, dressed in lime-green robes, the kind she'd seen at St. Mungo's. She was both old and not. There was a youthful exuberance in her face that gave her an air of preputial kindness, but also a kind of anxiousness as if at any moment they would both faint and die before her.

"Mr. Black, finished those books already?"

"Not yet, Madam Pomfrey," said Regulus, in a tone that was just shy of warm. "I have a patient for you."

"I haven't met you yet," said Madam Pomfrey, narrowing her eyes at Ellis. "Six years and no injuries, dear?"

"You've met my brother. Ned Selwyn."

Her face puckered with displeasure. "Yes, I certainly have. I'm not certain he knows how to stay out of here and Professor Dumbledore feels that banning broomsticks is extreme," she said stiffly, as though it were only the Headmaster standing in her way.

Madam Pomfrey looked at the wound and shook her head, muttering to herself that they ought to close the whole school down and only open it once everyone learned how to be careful.

"How did this happen?" she asked, beginning to cast a series of spells that filled the air with sparks of color. A quill and parchment floated over and hurriedly began writing. Ellis attempted to peek at the page, but Madam Pomfrey was bustling about the room, gathering a tray of vials.

Ellis looked at Regulus, silently telling him to answer. "An accident," said Regulus, vaguely, hoping to leave it at that.

"A blood-rot curse—Interisanguis. You're very lucky, Ms. Selwyn, and I'm afraid that this is a rather serious matter. Using such a curse on a fellow student will not be tolerated. You will need to tell me who cast it and I'm afraid that I must inform the Headmaster."

"It was me," said Regulus, and Ellis nearly believed him. "It was an accident—we're working on a project on blood maladies in our Alchemy class. I read it aloud from a book in the Restricted Section and it…it went wrong. If you need to call Professor Dumbledore and tell him, I understand, but…I would never hurt her. I swear it."

Madam Pomfrey hesitated and then looked at Ellis. "Is that what happened, Ms. Selwyn?"

"Yes, yes, it is. I healed it as much as I could—"

"I can see that, but these kinds of curses require monitoring." She dabbed the wound with a purple liquid that caused little tendrils of black smoke to rise out of the wound. It hurt as if someone were slowly dragging a knife over her skin and her good hand twitched, looking for something to hold onto the anchor her away from the pain.

"Is she going to be here overnight?"

"Yes."

Regulus nodded and asked if he could borrow some parchment and a quill. Her eyes followed him as he scratched against the paper quickly and charmed it to fold itself into a bird and fly away. "Greengrass," he murmured. "To bring you some clothes."

Madam Pomfrey gave her a few potions to drink and then ordered her to rest, turning to kick Regulus out of the Hospital Wing, but he had plans of his own.

"I have a headache," he said, laying himself in the empty bed next to her. He stretched out as if it were clothed with silk sheets and down pillows. "You can't send a sick person—"

"There are potions for headaches."

He pressed an arm over his eyes, "They won't work on this."

"Very well, Mr. Black. Rest, but if I hear a single word from your mouth, it'll be straight to the dungeons for you."

"And from now on, any experimenting must be done here in the Hospital Wing—blood maladies," she muttered, shaking her head. She seemed to be writing it down on an invisible list of complaints she had regarding the school. "Never in my life…"

Helena arrived, not alone, but with Althea Nott and Alecto Carrow which was akin to her arriving with two dementors. The four of them shared a dorm. Maisie Burke was the last member of the ensemble, but she was very good at making herself scarce.

Althea Nott was a slender girl with dark hair that she wore cropped just below her chin, sleek and glossy. Her features were blunt and exaggerated with large, owlish eyes that perpetually looked as though she had discovered some deeply embarrassing secret about everyone in the room. She carried herself with a kind of arrogance that suggested she was the most important person in the room.

Alecto Carrow, on the other hand, was shorter than Althea by nearly a head, but she made up for her lack of height in a belligerent sort of presence that filled any space she stepped into. Her eyes were set just a tad too close together, lending her a perpetual glower. A single rude look would set her off.

Ellis found both girls to be brutish and cruel.

Together, they flanked Helena—likely had bullied poor Helena into letting them come—like a pair of personal guards, stepping into the Hospital Wing with an air of mild intimidation. None of them looked pleased to see Ellis, let alone with Regulus Black occupying the next bed over.

Althea paused, looking at Regulus with a manufactured concern. "Is this where you've been, Regulus? You didn't come back from Sl—"

"I was with Ellis," he said, voice dripping with suggestion. Regulus leaned up, only enough to catch Althea's expression morph from arrogance to anger. "I'll trust you to keep your mouth shut from now on, Nott, unless you want your father knowing what you've been doing behind his back."

Althea's forced politeness slipped the moment Regulus threatened her. She swallowed hard, her posture faltering. A muscle in her jaw twitched. "I've no idea what you're talking about," she said in a low voice, struggling to keep her usual drawl.

Everyone in Slytherin knew that Avery and Althea spent hours alone in dark corners of the school.

Regulus gave her a lazy shrug, still half-reclined on his pillow as though he had all the time in the world to toy with her. "Do you need me to remind you?"

Her nostrils flared. She looked as if she might snap a retort, but a brief glance at Ellis's bandaged arm seemed to remind Althea why she had come. Instead, she turned her attention to Ellis, her gaze drawn to the wound with ill-concealed curiosity.

"You look dreadful, Selwyn." She dragged her gaze back to Regulus. The question dripped with insinuation. "Did you finally get taught what happens to bloodtraitors?"

Ellis felt a slow coil of anger wind around her lungs. If she inhaled too sharply, she feared it might bite. She kept her expression neutral, if not downright cold.

"Are you a Death Eater yet, Nott?" Ellis retorted. "Planning to join soon? Let me know when you do—I'll write a recommendation letter. Dear Lord Voldemort, as far as witches go, Althea's the head bitch—oh, sorry. Typo."

Althea's face registered sheer fury and the color in her cheeks rose sharply. Helena gave a sputter of laughter at the barb until Althea shot her a venomous glare, making her snap her mouth shut.

"I can't wait for you to lose that vile tongue of yours, Selwyn."

Ellis offered a saccharine smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It's attached quite firmly, Nott."

Alecto bristled, stepping forward. "Watch your mouth. You're hardly in a position to threaten—"

Regulus shifted in the bed next to Ellis. Though he said nothing, the look he leveled at Alecto promised more trouble than she was prepared to handle.

"Come on," Althea hissed to Alecto, ignoring Helena's awkward presence in the doorway. "We're leaving. This place reeks of muggle-mania."

"Apologize before you go," Regulus said to Althea.

Stiffly, Althea murmured an apology. She turned on her heel, pinned Helena with a glare as though blaming her for everything, then swept out of the Hospital Wing with as much dignity as she could feign.

Alecto gave Ellis one last nasty stare before following suit. Their footsteps echoed until the heavy door shut behind them with a click.

The moment they were gone, the tension dissolved like steam. Helena, looking profoundly relieved, drifted closer. She set down a small bundle of clothes on the bedside table, glancing warily between Ellis's bandaged arm and Regulus's extended sprawl.

Regulus sighed and sat up, running a hand through his hair that tousled it. "I told you to come alone, Greengrass."

"You try quietly leaving with those two stalking your every move," hissed Helena. She moved to inspect Ellis closely, holding her face between her hands, "Was it Mulciber again? I haven't seen him all day."

"Mulciber again?" asked Regulus.

"Don't you know, Black?"

Ellis pulled away, a warning in her voice. "Helena."

"It was during one of your patrols last year—the ones you never went on. He waited for her," said Helena, looking very angry all of a sudden. "His father taught him the Imperius Curse and he wanted some practice with it. Since he's always hated Ellis, he decided to make her one of his victims."

"Merlin, will you just give me my clothes and go?"

It took a moment for Regulus to digest the words. "Did he…"

"No," said Ellis, pure exhaustion leaking into her voice. "No, nothing happened."

Regulus sat rigid gaze fixed on Ellis. She couldn't be sure if it was anger or guilt or both that warred across his face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Regulus asked at last, voice low and controlled.

"Why would I?" Ellis clenched her jaw, pulse hammering against her temple. She wanted this conversation over. "It had nothing to do with you."

A flash of hurt crossed his face, quickly shuttered behind a sneer. "Nothing to do with me," he echoed under his breath, tongue pressing the inside of his cheek. Regulus made a soft, derisive sound that bordered on a laugh but held no humor. "I see. You were attacked and you assumed I wouldn't care."

Ellis lifted her chin, trying for a mask of indifference. "I'm not your responsibility."

"No," Regulus agreed after a beat, "you're not."

Ellis ended the conversation by leaving to change. She was happy to be back in her own clothes and to have a chance to scrub the day off her skin. Helena aptly chose her most comfortable pajamas, which had unicorns grazing at the hem of her shirt and pants. She threw a robe over it of the deepest midnight blue that was dotted with constellations.

When she returned, Helena was sitting in her bed, whispering with Regulus. Ellis watched them for a moment, remembering when they were in fourth-year and had spent a night together in the common room, charming pins together for the upcoming Quidditch game against Gryffindor that had an image of James Potter. It transformed him into a troll every few seconds and then spelled out, 'TROLLY POTTER.' It wasn't particularly clever, but it was the they found it funny at the time. Regulus and Helena proudly wore them for a week after, celebrating their victory. She knew, despite Helena never saying anything, that she missed those times.

"Is it true?" asked Helena, upon spotting her. "You asked Dumbledore to help you?"

"Help with what?" she replied carefully, glancing at Regulus. He wore the faintest twitch of amusement on his lips, as though he was enjoying an inside joke.

"Is that why you took Alchemy? You said you wanted to make another Philosopher's Stone! You expect me to believe you're doing it just for fun?"

Before Ellis could speak, Regulus interjected with a slow drawl, "Maybe she knew you'd react like an ungrateful cretin, Greengrass."

Helena stiffened. "Maybe you should stay out of our business, Black."

Ellis was about to scold him for opening his mouth in the first place, but Helena's voice turned cold, cutting through the silence again. "Do you know how many centuries my family wasted trying to break this curse? And you think that you—with all your wisdom—can break it?"

"Yes, I can."

Ellis' reply, so simple and sure, silenced Helena immediately. She searched her face, looking for any lies, for any doubt, but Ellis would never have broached the subject if she did not think herself capable. She was certain she could cure Helena. There was no such thing as an unbreakable curse. If the magic didn't exist yet, she would invent it.

Helena hesitated, uncertain whether to speak again. Something about Ellis's unwavering expression—her quiet determination—seemed to unnerve her. Whatever unspoken regrets lingered, Helena pushed them aside with a practiced toss of her hair. She sniffed delicately, "Waste your time, then. Just don't expect me to throw myself at your feet in gratitude when you fail."

From Helena, that was as close to permission as Ellis would get.

"I'll see you in the morning," Helena said. Her eyes darted briefly to Ellis's bandaged arm, a flicker of concern there one moment, then gone the next. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the Hospital Wing, her footsteps echoing down the corridor until they vanished altogether.

Silence fell in her wake, a new hush settling over the row of beds. Ellis exhaled slowly and sank back against her pillows, fingers curling in the blankets. Regulus tilted his head, studying her profile with curiosity, as though waiting for her to yell at him. But Ellis merely shut her eyes for a moment, breathing out all the anger that had knotted in her chest.

"I was going to tell her myself."

"In a thousand years, maybe." He scoffed and said, "Who'd put up with you crying for an eternity if Greengrass was gone? The proper thing to do is thank me."

"Thank you."

Regulus let out a low laugh. "Sincere as always."

Ellis's eyes darted away, but she could still feel his gaze lingering on her face. It irritated her that he could unnerve her so easily. For some reason, her own pulse remembered what he said to her at the party. I can be good. Anticipation curled in her stomach. For a split second, Ellis allowed herself to imagine what he might have meant by that.

And then she caught herself, strangling the thought with her bare hands, and made a loud commotion of getting into bed, except she couldn't sleep. She could hear him breathing, and every shift he made, and she felt hot all over.

"Regulus?" whispered Ellis when it was very late, and sleep continued to evade her.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to be friends?"

A long pause. The quiet pressed in.

"No."

She turned over, tracing the curve of his face with her eyes.

"Go to sleep, Ellis."

At last, she slept and dreamt again, the same terrible dream.