CHAPTER 38

9 June 1979 - Lower Guildford, Surrey - 9:14 PM

Screaming.

It was the only sound Harry could hear - the terrible wails of tortured despair and sheer panic at the fiery and blood-soaked chaos. Memory-Regulus just stood there staring ahead, face hidden beneath a bone white mask that resembled the famed muggle Guy Fawkes. His ink black robes blended into the darkness, like tatters of the night sky draped on the entirety of his flesh. All around them was fire, chunks of debris, and multiple dead bodies - quite a few missing their heads and other appendages. It was pure carnage, amplified by the stench of charred flesh and choking curls of smoke.

Focusing his Legilimency, Harry realized he could feel the strong thrum of Regulus' emotions running through the memory; regret, horror, and a keenly sour note of self-loathing that the boy could practically taste it on his tongue.

There was something else too.

Extending his mind and Dilating his senses, Harry noticed there was a second undercurrent of emotions he could detect coming from Lord Malfoy - bitter regret and shame. One would have never known, considering the man's face was perfectly blank.

"This night…" Black's voice was wooden and flat. "This night was my very first mission as a Death Eater. We were on a raid in Lower Guildford, a magical enclave in the western Surrey town. The plan was simple; torture and kill any and everyone we encountered. There was to be no survivors, magical or muggle. Lower Guildford is primarily a muggleborn community that is quite assimilated into the surrounding Muggle community. Once we'd decimated the population, key members of our cell - under leadership of Antonin Dolohov as Mr. Farmer - were to be positioned in this area to oversee mithril mining to aid the Dark Lord's weapons needs. His cartographer had discovered a sizable deposit underneath the town, untouched since the Iron Age." The group's surprise was tangible. Mithril was an exceptionally rare and very expensive metal, accessible only to the old wealthy families in the form of priceless heirlooms. With the exception of antique shops like Borgin and Burkes, the economy for the remaining scant supply of the precious metal was controlled by the Goblins.

A sudden movement stalled conversation; it was a group of five fleeing for their lives and heading straight towards Regulus' position. They looked quite young, around their early 20s. Three were flanked protectively around a couple, blocking and averting spells as best as they could while screaming at the pair to "KEEP RUNNING!"

Their urgency was warranted.

The woman was pregnant.

"EXVISCERA!" The Entrails-Expelling Curse flashed out and struck one of the fleers who screamed in agonized horror as her entrails flew out of her body. She was dead in seconds. The remaining screamed at the terrified couple to keep running and "DO NOT LOOK BACK!", before doing their best to engage in spellfire with the attacking Death Eaters.

A gleeful Mr. Petal phased in, black walnut wand flashing as a seemingly endless cascade of curses poured from the 10 ¾ inch apparatus. His cornflower blue eyes were alight with sadistic glee behind his ghoulish porcelain doll mask. "CRUCIO DUO!" Their screams were instantaneous and ear-shattering. Harry and Regulus (including the memory one) couldn't resist flinching at the guttural sounds. "Evan Rosier was always overly eager in his violent sociopathy, made worse by the passable mask of genteel civility he often wore." The Death Eater's maniacal laughter compounded the man's point, leering at the screaming pair as they violently thrashed under the force of the Unforgivable.

"Is there an end to this horridness?" Cassie's voice was tight as she glared at the scene, pale green eyes glassy with unshed tears. Without words Tom wrapped a firm arm around her shoulder to provide some semblance of comfort, tucking her protectively into his side.

Her answer came soon enough.

Rosier cried "EXVISCERA MAXIMA!" in maddened exuberance, only to stop short as his spell was blocked by the shimmering silver shield of Protego Horribilis. The Death Eater turned in a rage to retaliate, only to suddenly be on the defense at the sheer onslaught of lethal magic flung his way.

It was Gideon Prewett, one half of the Prewett Twins. Memory-Regulus (and real Regulus) felt an odd sense of relief at the sight of the tall and strongly built ginger who had fought powerfully and boldly. Though he was not an auror he fought like one, better than one. His spells were as relentless as they were lethal, forcing Mr. Petal to defend and retreat as he attempted (and failed) to retaliate in equal measure. Gideon was unyielding, never giving the Death Eater an inch to gain the upper hand. Though Regulus himself was already a champion duelist within his age group, he was genuinely impressed with Prewett's combat skill. But even more so than skill, Regulus was impressed by their bravery in fighting such odds to cover the scores of civilians as they fled in horrified panic.

"MACTASSES! DEFODIO! LACERO HORRIBILIS!"

The Bludgeoning Hex struck Petal in his face, cracking a thick line in his mask. The Gouging Hex slammed into his left side, causing two ribs to snap painfully as the modified Cutting Hex sliced his non-wand hand right off.

"BLANCO!" he screamed in pained rage as he cradled the bloody stump of his arm and tried to crawl away. "HELP ME!"

The sound of Rosier's scream startled Regulus, and more out of instinct than any intent he fired off an Expelliarmus that got past Gideon's defense, stripping him of his wand. Instinct still driving him, he shot off a Bludeogner and a Slicing Hex to strike down the man.

Neither worked.

Black watched with wide-eyes as the surprisingly nimble man backflipped from the Mactasses and deftly ducked from the Lacero, gracefully landing on his feet.

"Whoa," whispered Harry in awe. The others were similarly impressed, with Tom once more wishing that he'd been able to convince the man and his brother to join the Knights of Walpurgis before their untimely demise.

In a flash Gideon retrieved a glinting silver knife from his robes pocket and with a battle cry befitting his Berserker ancestors of olde he charged straight at a gobsmacked (and admittedly frightened) Regulus. Dueling champion he may be, but Mr. Blanco soon realized he was ill-matched in hand-to-hand combat with the larger and capable man. Gideon succeeded in physically knocking Regulus' wand away as he fought him with the skill of a well-trained assassin, successfully parrying away the Death Eater's kicks and punches while successfully slashing his chest, arms, neck, and face. A sudden well-placed kick to Regulus' knee forced him downward with a yowl, before a fierce kick knocked the man clean on his back. The man's blade flashed, ready to deliver the killing blow.

It was not to be.

"EXVISCERA MAXIMA!" Mr. Bellator's (who'd flashed in at the last second) spell hit true, causing the entrails of Gideon Prewett to burst from his body in a shower of blood-soaked offal, spilling over the face and head of a horrified Regulus. He fought not to vomit at the sight and smell of the spell's grisly effects as Gideon keeled over, dead. With horror and sheer panic Regulus scuttled away from the gruesome sight, scrambling for his wand to clean off some of the man's blood - there was so much blood - from his person.

"NO! GIDEON!"

The thunderous pain-filled bellow drew Fabian Prewett's immediate attention as he dueled Mr. Farmer near the forest-line boundary, causing him to scream for his brother. He'd succeeded in thwarting Farmer from murdering the pregnant woman, though he'd been too late to prevent the gruesome killing of her husband. With a sharp downward slash of his wand he sliced a massive gash across the Death Eater's chest and Banished him into the woods before racing to his brother's aid. Mr. Bellator - true name Rabastan Lestrange - flung as many lethal spells as he could, but Fabian dodged and parried them all before striking out with powerful magic of his own. Bellator soon found himself scrambling backwards at the barrage of dangerous spellfire.

Just as he was to cut Rabastan down with a well-aimed Bone-Shattering Hex a voice cried out "CRUCIO!" Rosier had seemingly recovered from his earlier clash with Gideon, and his Cruciatus Curse - filled with all the hatred and contempt he felt for the Prewett brothers - hit the ginger man dead-center.

The strength of his screams were haunting. Harry flinched in spite of himself, the memory of his own torture at the Dark Lord's hand flashing through his mind. From the corner of his eye he noticed Malfoy tense, his blank expression tightening just a fraction.

A recovered Mr. Bellator and Mr. Farmer joined in, adding their own Cruciatus while laughing at the man's agony. Rosier cruelly suggested that they take him back to their base and see how long they could torture the bastard while keeping him alive. Suddenly, Regulus realized how much he hated Evan Rosier. How much he reviled Antonin Dolohov. How much he loathed the abominable Lestrange brothers. How much he abhorred his mother and father for encouraging him into this life. And as he watched Fabian Prewitt scream in agony and flop around helplessly in the blood and viscera of his murdered twin who'd shown so much more bravery and honor than the cowards who'd killed him, Regulus suddenly hated himself.

Hated himself for successfully acquiring the mantle of Prince by eloquently advocating his Vision as maintaining the Dark Lord's status quo.

Hated himself for willingly internalizing and espousing the poisonous bigotry of Mother and Father that claimed the Dark Lord as a Pureblood Messiah who would purge Wizarding Britain of all blood traitors and Mudbloods and restore the rightful ascendancy of the Purebloods and the Ancient and Noble Houses who led them.

Hated himself for not listening to the sound advice of his Consilierii Lily Evans and Severus Snape as they warned him against the real possibility of this exact thing happening.

Hated himself for having to admit that Sirius, in fact, had been right all along.

Luckily, there was one spell for which absolute hatred - even at one's self - was a prerequisite.

"AVADA KEDAVRA," Regulus said in an eerily calm voice. A bolt of eldritch green energy shot from his wand into the body of Fabian Prewett, ending his pain and his life with a single spell.

"What was that for, Mr. Blanco?" Rabastan said petulantly. "I had plans for that one." Dolohov and the others curiously stared at him, some with more irritation than the others. Regulus ignored Rosier and instead addressed Dolohov.

"We are here on business, are we not, Mr. Farmer? This ... indulgence has cost us valuable time and also allowed many of our quarry to run far enough from our wards to escape and even to summon help. Unless you are ready to face real aurors instead of talented amateurs, perhaps it's time we departed."

Dolohov studied Regulus and then laughed. "That's enough, Mr. Petal. Young Mr. Blanco is correct. We've made our point tonight, and it's time we were leaving."

"Oh no, leaving so soon?"

The Death Eaters whirled around, immediately on the offensive.

"Who are they?" asked Harry quietly. The two newcomers bore unique Glamor Charms that made it impossible to tell if they were wizard or witch. Ink-black skin-tight bodysuits made their forms sleek and tall, and they had spoken in one unified tone that sounded like three non-descript voices blended into one.

Regulus' reply was wooden: "The Knights of Walpurgis. They were the primary challengers of the Death Eaters, and a true pain in the Dark Lord's arse. Unlike the aurors, the Knights did reply with equal lethal force." He leveled a sly look at Tom. "Though I can say they never used Unforgivables."

"Naturally," replied Tom cheekily. Unseen, Lucius' eyes briefly widened in understanding. He'd long theorized about Lord Gaunt's potential involvement with the vigilante group that had successfully staved off many of the Dark Lord's sieges, decimating many of his soldiers and causing the madman to fly into…rages. It was nice to finally have some confirmation of his suspicions.

Turning their attention back to the scene, they watched the Knights engage with the Death Eaters, trading spell for spell. A riveting dance of death that few would've been able to keep up with.

Even Regulus.

The champion duelist had been reduced to pathetically trying to crawl away, wandless with three broken ribs, a mangled wand-hand, and a fractured fibula that made crawling the only feasible means of attempted escape. The Knight he and Dolohov dueled was impossibly fast, keeping the pace with two Death Eaters with a seeming ease that frightened them both. A well-placed Bonebreaker and Knockback Jinx tossed Mr. Blanco some distance away, leaving Mr. Farmer to deal with the Knight's wrath. Rabastan - the cowardly bastard - had managed to escape, though not with his left ear and right hand. Rosier was locked in with the second Knight, growing increasingly panicked as he realized that in the face of competent backup with equally lethal intent, he was no match. A dizzyingly fast Bonebreaker slammed into Evan's body, physically pushing him back as his clavicle and sternum broke in a series of loud snaps.

"REGULUS!," Rosier screamed in panicked agony. "HELP ME!"

Both Knight's whipped their heads around incredulously, allowing a downed Mr. Farmer and a horrified Mr. Petal to fumblingly retrieve their Portkeys and make their escape.

With keen deliberation the Knights approached the still-crawling Mr. Blanco, walking around the man to stand directly in his face to block his path. A few seconds ticked by uncomfortably, before Regulus hung his head and accepted his fate.

A joint "STUPEFY" turned his world to black as the memory faded into vapor.

Whirls of pearlescent mist transformed into the next memory, slowly coming into focus as the spectral form of Regulus regained his consciousness. The group could see that he was in the basement of a presumed safe-house. The walls were empty of any photographs and windows, save a small lunette on the western-facing wall that showed the night sky.

Regulus - unmasked and surprisingly healed of his injuries - was magically tied to a chair, unable to move any part of his body save his eyes. Worst still, he'd been Silenced and stripped of his wand. Never having been a prisoner-of-war but having full cognizance of what the Dark Lord did to his captives, Regulus had to swallow back his fear and trepidation.

BANG!

He jumped as the door slammed open, before his eyes widened in recognition at the two figures that crossed the threshold.

'Lily?! Lord Gaunt?! Blimey I'm doomed.' The door creaked close as the two stepped closer, though neither one spoke. Riddle casually leaned against the wall, staring unblinkingly. Lily came to stand directly in front of him and just stared, her gaze uncomfortably penetrating. It took every sense of internal strength Regulus didn't know he possessed to not flinch at the intensity of those Avada-green eyes that stared at him, through him. He would give anything to be faced with her infamous temper instead of…this.

Though her expression was carefully blank, her eldritch green eyes burned with a myriad of emotions that filled Black with shame. The worst of them all, was betrayal. With a sharp turn Lily exited the room and slammed the door shut in her wake.

Abandoning his position Riddle soundlessly strode to stand where Lily had occupied, before non-verbally summoning a chair. With uncommon elegance he sat comfortably, before summoning a cup of minty-smelling tea and taking a very languid sip. He leaned back iand continued to sip his beverage without a word, even crossing his leg to emphasize his relaxed state. Regulus grew more nervous, wondering if this was some demented mind game that served as a wicked prelude to his torture and inevitable murder.

Tom chuckled ominously. "Trust me Regulus, if were going to torture and kill you you'd already be a mindless and dead husk." The Death Eater gulped, internally panicking that the man had seemingly gotten past his Occlumency and gleaned his thoughts. "There are two reasons why your life is not forfeit, one of which just walked out of that room. The other…would not forgive me, and I care too deeply to ever be the cause of such hurt. Consider yourself very lucky Regulus Black, that you will be shielded from the worst of my deserved wrath." The younger man felt his fear ratchet up, though he did his best to not let it show as his mind reviewed all the things he knew with absolute certainty about Riddle.

That despite being being a muggleborn, he held the mantle of the notoriously staunch pureblood Ancient and Noble House of Gaunt. That despite coming from less than humble beginnings and inheriting a bankrupt birthright, Lord Gaunt had acquired great personal wealth and transformed House Gaunt's coffers into one of the richest in the Wizengamot. That despite all odds set in front of him by the purebloods who insisted upon his inferiority (like Mother and Father), he'd succeeded in creating an expansive network of talented and highly capable halfbloods and muggleborns with the creation of his Magical Youth Liaison Program. And that most importantly, all nine heads of the Hydra Throne unilaterally adored and respected Prince Emeritus Riddle, making him the most dangerous adversary Regulus could ever hope to face.

A quick flick of his fingers interrupted Black's thoughts as Riddle Banished his teacup and retrieved his wand. "I am going to ask you a series of questions, and you will provide the appropriate answers. Do not attempt to lie, because I will know that you're lying. And I truly loathe being lied to."

At this point Harry commented on how scary Tom was, causing the man to chuckle in amusement. By his side Cassie gratefully squeezed his hand. Though he hadn't said, she knew she was the other reason Tom hadn't smite her grand-nephew in the way she knew he was capable of.

They all watched Riddle cancel the Silencer with a gentle flick of his wand as he elegantly reclined back in his chair.

"First question - were you on the raid tonight under your free will?" Regulus blinked a few times, before tightly replying yes.

"Second question - do you bear the Dark Lord's mark?" A clipped "No" was his response. Tom tilted his head curiously but didn't rebut.

"Third question - can you, without losing your magic, tell me about the specific Death Eater cell you're part of?" Regulus attempted to respond, but found himself feeling strongly compelled to not say a word as tendrils of foreboding magic curled around his core and squeezed. He quickly shook his head no. "Hm…so it would seem that the Dark Lord did put in necessary contingencies to keep the identities of his terrorists anonymous. Interesting…seems I'll have to unmask the lot of you." And then he smiled with all his teeth, forcing all of the room's occupants (save Riddle himself) to shudder.

"Lastly, can you confirm that you are a Metamorph?" Regulus blinked a few times, before shifting and changing his features until he looked identical to Tom Riddle. "Fascinating…" he mumbled quietly, leaning forward to stare at Regulus with open curiosity and a touch of awe. Suddenly his expression smoothed into a blank mask, before reclining and Summoning another steaming cup of tea.

"I believe we can be of use to each other, Regulus. Well, actually, I believe you can be of use to me, since the alternative…well…" He chuckled sardonically as the younger wizard bit back a shudder. "Tell me Regulus…how much do you know about Australia?"

1 January 1980 - Waltzing Matilda's - Wagga Wagga Township, 12:51 PM

To Harry's surprise, this scene was markedly different. They were in a bar, though it looked more like a saloon from an old movie Western, complete with swinging doors and saddled horses that sat outside next to some modern motorcycles. Some old timey music played from a muggle gramophone in one corner, though it looked oddly out of place next to a massive jukebox that flashed with rainbow neon lights. Most of the patrons were dressed in contemporary Muggle clothing, as well as some in the traditional wizarding clothing he'd have expected in Diagon Alley.

The group was standing next to a couple seated in a rather cozy booth. One was a tall and rather genial looking middle-aged man with short salt-and-peppered dark hair, a large slightly crooked nose, and a slightly crooked smile that Lucius immediately recognized as Alexander McAvity! Seated across from him was a woman whom Snape realized strongly resembled an older version of Vivien Leigh in "That Hamilton Woman", with the obvious exception of thickly curled auburn hair, warm hazel eyes, and a most impressive bosom tastefully swathed in a tailored halterneck dress. They all noticed the rather smitten look the man wore as he gazed adoringly at the woman and listened to her flirtatiously chatter on.

"Where are we?"

"In Wagga Wagga, a small township in Australia located halfway between the cities of Sydney and Melbourne. It is actually comprised of two different towns; the muggle Wagga Wagga is a town of about 40,000 that can be found on a map. Magical Wagga Wagga was actually located almost 200 miles further inland in the middle of a particularly inhospitable part of the Australian Outback. The two are connected by a permanent portkey link which connected a particular door marked "Janitorial Supplies" in the back of a Muggle petrol station to a freestanding doorway situated in the middle of the Magical Wagga Wagga's town square. Our specific location where this memory occurs is a saloon called the Waltzing Matilda, owned by a gentleman named Brian 'Bucky' MacMillan who is also a senior auror within the DMLE. The young lady tending the bar over there," he gestured towards a pretty blonde haired blue-eyed young lady wearing a Wollongong Warriors t-shirt and short cut-off blue jeans, "is Matilda 'Matty' MacMillan, the man's only daughter." A curious emotion flickered across his eyes, but it was gone in a flash.

"MacMillan?" asked Lucius curiously.

Regulus lightly rolled his eyes. "Only by name and blood. Her grandfather, Jacob MacMillan was a squib. Naturally, he found himself expelled from the Noble House of MacMillan as a consequence at the tender age of twelve with nothing more than twenty galleons and the clothes on his back. They sent him to Melbourne on a boat, where he worked his way up from being a stable boy to owning this bar, married a Muggleborn witch, and birthed the aforementioned Brian MacMillan. Now how about we focus on my conversation, alright?" Malfoy merely hummed as the group got closer to the couple in the booth. The conversation was rather inane; the woman - who spoke with a rather fetching French accent - went on about her Herbology Mastery she was currently pursuing, part of which involved interning at the Institute of Magical Herbology of Melbourne. McAvity was genuinely engaged in the conversation, easily trading factoids regarding the current innovations on Sopophorous Bean cultivation and the effects different growing methods impacted the bean's potency on a cutting-edge potion called Dawdle Draught.

"So I'm assuming that's you as the pretty buxom witch?" Black snorted a laugh at Harry's cheeky question.

"Yes, it is. I chose a form that Riddle here let me know would be most appealing; an amalgamation of McAvity's childhood film crush and a muggle neighbor girl he'd had an actual crush on as a teenager. Melded the forms together and voilà! This was actually our eighteenth date and had become somewhat of a couple. I'd been let into his home where I'd been able to snoop and occasionally plant a recording device that would activate when McAvity spoke certain keywords in certain key conversations with certain key people. It would feed the information directly to Riddle before self-Banishing into nothingness. Fairly interesting bit of magic." Lucius was equal parts amazed and alarmed, reminding himself to check if any such device was left on his person once he departed from the Lair.

"Hang on…Alexander McAvity?!," cried Harry incredulously. "The so-called muggleborn Dark Lord?! What on earth were you targeting him for?"

"A question I too would like an answer to." Lord Malfoy's deceptively dulcet tone was equally curious. As one, the entire group turned towards Tom, who was staring unblinkingly at McAvity. A few seconds passed before a casual wave of his hand froze the memory entirely. Though he didn't show it, Malfoy was rather impressed by the casual display of wandless magic.

"As you already know, Alexander McAvity was wrongly declared as a Dark Lord in Wizarding Britain on trumped up charges of domestic terrorism, treason, and espionage. Charges, I recall, were levied by Abraxas Malfoy in his self-declared stead as Light Lord." Lucius sniffed disdainfully at the mention of his odious sire. "There was only one charge he was preemptively convicted of; the crime of academic fraud. You see, McAvity had three articles published in the British Journal of Charms Research under a fake name because the Journal at that time had a policy of not accepting submissions from Muggleborns. After all three articles were published and one of them was even nominated for a prestigious international award, McAvity revealed the truth, hoping it would shame the Journal into reversing its policy. Instead, the editors decided to press charges of fraud, and the DMLE Director at the time announced he would pursue the maximum penalty of fifteen years in Azkaban. I imagine he'd have asked for the Dementor's Kiss if it had been an option. Utilizing an old Wizengamot loophole law to… accelerate the process, the traditionalist pureblood Lords and Ladies moved to preemptively convict muggleborn McAvity of said academic fraud without a trial and collect a major fine from his vault. They couldn't toss him into Azkaban without an actual trial proving true criminal intent, but they could bankrupt him." Tom stepped closer to the still form of memory-Alexander, kneeling to be closer to eye-level.

"As you can imagine, a muggleborn of that era faced extreme difficulty in securing employment, especially within the Ministry which was and still is an establishment stronghold. He'd rebuffed all of my overtures to collaborate, considering me as a member and conspirator of the old guard despite the work my team and I had done for the Liaison Program. He felt that I and Nobby - as two of the most prominent muggleborns in the Wizengamot - weren't doing enough advance the rights and protections of muggleborns in our society with our enormous privilege of position. In a way…he was right, though he failed to understand the intricacies of what it takes to change a system designed to be unmovable." His expression became unreadable before clearing in a blink. "Anywho, as I said before McAvity's political stance made securing employment extremely difficult, and his accounts were, shall we say, modest. They took it all, leaving the man destitute. If that wasn't bad enough, it meant that Alexander could no longer take care of his elderly father. He was a soldier of the first Muggle World War, and he'd suffered with lifelong post-traumatic stress disorder along with some tremors that found him wheelchair bound and unable to keep consistent employment. Alexander had worked the occasional odd job to help take care of his father but with his conviction coupled with his blood-status, that soon became an impossibility. His debts increased as his father fell increasingly ill, and the growing despondence of all those stressful situations forced Alexander into a deep depression. That is…until the man received a charitable monetary gift from Uriah Travers."

Several brows raised at that.

"Uriah Travers? Of the Selwyn sect?"

Riddle nodded at Potter. "The very same. As I mentioned, McAvity fell into a deep depression caused by his dire circumstances, and inevitably turned to alcohol as a means of solace. He began frequenting the Hogs Head tavern and, by seeming coincidence, ran into Uriah Travers. The two seemingly bonded over their misfortunes, as Uriah was already known for being a drunken aimless lout who was more or less a recluse. Alexander had no means of suspecting the man because he hadn't a clue what Lord Travers looked like due to his self-imposed public exile. Therefore, he couldn't make the connection to the Selwyns. They formed quite the camaraderie and soon enough, McAvity received a gift sum of 9000 galleons to aid him. Less than a mere drop in House Selwyns' coffers, but more than enough to cover McAvity's death and ensure his father received the best upkeep money could buy. It is no coincidence that once that transaction occurred, McAvity was soon introduced to his Muggleborn lieutenants Cecile Ambrose, Martha Bracewell, and Timothy Spraggins, all whom were openly outspoken about Muggleborns utilizing violence to defend themselves against Pureblood extremists. While Bracewell and Spraggins were muggleborns with no connections to the Selwyns as far as I could tell, Ambrose was a halfblood assassin who had been associated with assassinations in Europe, North America, and some parts of South Africa. It is no coincidence that McAvity's 'Alliance for Muggleborn Pride and Acceptance' or AMPA took on a more…radicalized turn upon Ambrose's addition to the group. They were credited with the bomb that killed Cantankerous Nott Jr., Tiberius Nott's father."

Everyone digested those intriguing new details. If Tom was correct, it seemed the Selwyns had been critical in orchestrating the violent clashes between the pureblood and muggleborn factions, helping to create the perfect spark for the Dark Lord to set everything aflame.

"I am…curious," interrupted Lucius quietly. "How was McAvity able to secure a position on the ICW if he was convicted of a crime? A farce of a crime it may have been, but a conviction is still a conviction. Granted, while I am aware of Australia's continuous efforts of rejection of a Wizengamot and their general laissez faire attitude of what occurs in the 'Old Country', they are still bound by the bylaws of the ICW, as every other participating nation is. One cannot serve on the vaunted International Confederation of Wizards with a conviction on one's record. I can assume that his record was expunged?"

"...You are absolutely correct, Lucius. And no, it wasn't. By some miracle, McAvity was able to acquire a position as Australia's ICW Representative. I am of the belief that the Selwyns - through Uriah Travers - worked to secure that position as well. To what end, Regulus' intel has yet to reveal. But perhaps…" he trailed off suggestively, waving his wand in concentric motions over a frozen McAvity's face.

They all watched with open curiosity as Tom - still kneeling at eye-level with McAvity - repeated the motion thrice more before nodding in satisfaction. "As I'm sure you're all aware, Pensieves pose the most unique convergence between Time, Space, and Mind magicks, a unique runic matrix that allows all three to exist in perfect simultaneity. As such, there is a very rare opportunity that presents itself to us, especially since McAvity here is perfectly relaxed with his guard completely down."

And with that, Lord Gaunt took a deep centering breath, before gazing directly in Alexander's eyes and hissed "LEGILIMENSssS!"

And then, there was a hissing all around them, the sound all at-once soothing, enchanting, and unwavering. A hypnotic synchrony of hisses that reverberated with all-consuming persistence:

RelaxXxX your mind before mine,

TrusSsT me,

Open yourSsSelf to me,

Let me SssSee into your mind,

Let usSsS be ONE!

Harry and Lucius felt themselves relax, unconsciously dropping their Occlumency shields as they felt themselves physically and pyschically loosen their minds… before Harry's Legilimency SCREAMED at him and he felt his mind and shields snap back to form. He staggered into his mother, who wrapped her arms firmly around him and gently whispered to him what he'd just experienced. Eyes wide, the younger Potter gazed at Tom with open awe, eyes further widening as he watched the older wizard press his yew wand against the side of McAvity's head to draw out the man's memories he'd somehow Legilimized to the surface of his mind. The memories floated to Unbreakable phials that floated to land in his pocket.

"What the fuck what that?!" Malfoy braced himself against his walking stick, covered in a light sheen of sweat with slightly glassy eyes.

"Oh! My apologies Lucius! I…I didn't realize you had been affected."

"Affected?! What in Morgana's tit was that?!" Lord Gaunt bit back his amusement at seeing Lord Malfoy so uncharacteristically ruffled that it was enough to swear. Twice. The others (save Severus) weren't so subtle with their snickers.

"My sincerest apologies Lord Malfoy, truly. It seems the Pensieve maximized my Legilimens ability in a manner I wasn't expecting, least of all on you. The others know what to expect as they have experienced it before in our training, but you have not. What you experienced was the Peisinoen Affect, a unique mind-affect that is boosted by my natural Parseltongue ability. Quite rare, though not impossible." Lucius barely resisted the urge to sneer as he steadily got himself back together. Once he reasserted his mental shields he nodded at Lord Gaunt, who politely nodded back before waving his hand and allowing the Pensieve to resume playing.

At that point the memories flashed on with little interruption.

Regulus - under the pseudonym Lazarus White - successfully ingratiating himself with Bucky McMillan by saving his daughter's life in a rowdy bar brawl at the Waltzing Matilda. That incident led to Bucky insisting that he join the Australian DMLE and lend his abilities for good.

His continued tracking of McAvity, posing as a myriad of different people to sneak into places where the man would be, covertly recording the man's conversations when in the vicinity of 'important guests'. He'd acquired quite a bit more intel than he would've thought possible on the notoriously elusive Spanish Representative.

Growing closer to Matilda and falling in love with her, the feeling mutual as the two had grown closer with Bucky's approval.

Eventually becoming married and having a family, a beautiful bouncing baby named Leo. Lily couldn't help but quietly gush at the sight of the precious boy, reminded of her own sons when they were infants.

The memories started to speed up after that, becoming a bit more distorted than naught. The group noticed Regulus' expression grew more pinched in discomfort, and Dilating his perception and extending his Legilimency, Harry noticed the aura of dread start to leak through the memories.

News of a group of feral and dangerous werewolves called the Tully Gang, lead by a hulking hursite beast named Eustace Tully. The carnage they wrought across Sydney and Melbourne as they ate their way through muggles and magicals alike, fully giving into the madness of their lupine curse.

The memory suddenly skipped to the interrogation of a wizard arsonist named Edgar Farnaby who'd been paid by a "scary guy" who'd threatened to eat him! All as a distraction for the DMLE to draw them away from Wagga Wagga. They watched Lazarus' eyes go wide as the realization hit him. Harry felt the dread escalate to soul-numbing horror as the panicking man raced out of the room whilst screaming for backup.

The memory physically cracked, before everything faded to black vapors.

They suddenly jumped into a strange scene in an abandoned cottage where the foppish form of Gilderoy Lockhart - sporting eye-watering lavender robes with a gilded satin vest of all things - was rope-tied to a chair and shaking with absolute terror. His usually well-coiffed hair was a frightful rat's nest, and he even sported a small cut at the corner of his mouth from which small drops of blood fell. Lazarus circled his form as a predator would a captured prey, eyes glinting in barely contained wrath as he held back a snarl.

"You…you bastard, let me go! You're mad, MAD I TELL YOU!" Lockhart was hysterical, eyes wide in horrified panic as he struggled against his bonds.

"I'm mad?!" Lazarus looked incredulous, his metamorphagic abilities making the expression poignantly comical. "You are the one who attacked me! Blimey, I welcome you into my home and you attempt to stun me and steal my memories! Unauthorized use of Obliviate is illegal, enough to earn a hefty prison for each time it is used." Lockhart's panic visibly grew as his struggles increased in earnest. "From what I've gleaned from your memories, you've used this spell quite a few times, tracking down real heroes and learning all their secrets about how they'd destroyed monsters or what have you, before Obliviating them so that he could take credit for their accomplishments! THIEF!" The foppish man jumped at the thunderous sound as he continued to struggle. Lazarus leaned down contemptuously: "I also the other less than savory Obliviations crimes you committed against those young men and women, and you should consider yourself exceptionally lucky that I haven't ended your wretched life as recompense for your sins." Everyone blanched at that revelation, exchanging horrified glances. Cassie looked particularly wrathful, having to resist the urge to lash out at the guilty man even if he were mere ether.

"M-m-my sins?! This coming from a man who's a murderer." Lockhart grew confident at White's responding flinch. "That's right. I read it in the Uluru Gazette about how the entire Tully werewolf gang was massacred in Terrawanda, burned alive with what the aurors suspected was Fiendfyre." Then, the fop sneered at Lazarus, who had begun shaking. "Fitting, considering the werewolves had succeeded in murdering more than 20 people in Wagga Wagga…including your mudblood wife and son!"

Rage.

Harry felt it burst like a dam from Lazarus and fill the entirety of the memory, the sheer weight of it so heavy and cloying the boy felt like he was choking. He watched the Lazurus' face twist into an expression of pure hate before he lunged with bare hands at a now-screaming Gilderoy.

Like before, the memory started to fracture and crack as the strength of Lazarus' emotions caused the image to begin crumbling like ash. Their group barely registered Tom unholstering his wand and whirl it wildly overhead, causing a powerful force to pick them up off the ground and thrust them out of the pensieve and back into the Lair.

Though neither said it out loud, both Harry and Regulus were very relieved to see the Founder's Pensieve still intact.

Two Hours Later…

Digging into her ice cream sundae Lily was once more ever grateful for Tweak. Seated on her favorite divan in her private quarters the witch savored her treat as her mind reviewed the events of a few hours ago. A considerable bulk of time post-Pensieve had been spent on a spirited debate on how best to break into Azkaban Prison and sequester all of the prisoners in its Northern Tower. Angrily swallowing a scoop Lily cursed James Potter's name; her ex-husband's curse had meant that she would not be accompanying her fellow Knights in the mission. Both Tom and Severus (and Regulus) vehemently refused to have her participate, believing the strain on her magic would be too great. Rather, she'd be staying behind to secure the dungeons where the prisoners would be kept. Though their intent was good, her pride struggled not to feel insulted. The only recompense was that Harry would be under her watchful eye, since there was no way in hell she would ever let him near that Merlin-forsaken abyss that was Azkaban Prison (not that any other adult would have suggested or allowed it either).

Nibbling on a maraschino cherry, Lily's mind shifted to Regulus' memories; it had been equal parts harrowing and illuminating. She could still recall her revulsion at the sheer amount of carnage the Death Eaters had wrought in their terroristic wake. She had been expecting the worst as was standard, but that night had still been horrifically lurid.

And then she'd discovered that Regulus had been a Death Eater and her world had shattered.

Shattered, because she'd been foolish enough to believe Regulus when he'd claimed that he would never join the league of those murderers.

Shattered, because despite claiming to his Consilierii - to her - that his public espousing of the Dark Lord's bigoted propaganda was a ruse meant to keep the other rabid purebloods in check and under his control, especially given his status as a son of House Black.

Shattered, because she'd foolishly allowed her…affection for the boy cloud her mind and overcome her better judgment, the truth she knew about all the purebloods that inevitably showed itself.

She'd allowed herself to hate him, to strike him from her very mind as every memory - every good memory - she'd had of the man was forced into an impenetrable lockbox that she'd buried in the deepest darkest corner of her memory palace. She'd wished him nothing but suffering and ill-will, loathing his weakness in succumbing to the same bigoted madness that had plagued his parents and poisoned the minds of many in Slytherin House. A festering rot that ruined any and all that it touched.

But now…

It seemed that Regulus had truly had a change of heart. After becoming Tom Riddle's double agent and spy in Australia, he seemed to have found a new and better life for himself. Turning over a new leaf and doing some good for his community. Having a family, a wife and child he cherished and adored. Becoming the man that Lily had always believed (despite her inclination towards cynicism) he could be despite his family's bigoted psychosis.

But then…evil had found its way into Reg's life and taken away the little joy he knew. Though she succeeded in beating back the bile that rose to her throat, she still felt tears run down her eyes. His wife…his baby boy…

Banishing her half-eaten sundae Lily curled into a ball and unleashing all pent up emotions, allowed herself to weep like a child. And with those tears, she finally released all of the contempt, anger, and heartbreak she'd ever felt for her Prince Emeritus. 'I release you Regulus Black.'

AN 1: Fabian and Gideon's fighting abilities is related to their Berserker bloodline and them being...auror-adjacent. We'll have a future scene in Book 4 that references exactly what they were doing that made them such capable fighters. Casting-wise, I'm envisioning a young-ish Kristofer Hivju for each.

AN 2: Peisinoen Affect is a reference to the Greek Siren Peisinoe, whose name means "affecting the mind". Since PoS establishes that there can be different 'branches' of Legilimens ability, I decided to give Tom this skill

AN 3: RE: McAvity - I really like him in PoS, and decided to explore an equally realistic turning out of his characterization as influenced by similar events. More on him in Book 4, inlcluding what memories Tom was able to extract.

AN 4: Lily & Regulus flashbacks will be featured in future chapters. Will add some much needed context.