Chapter 3: Heavy Heart
Grimmauld Place, August 1st 1995
It is late, and I'm getting tired, but I need to hear what my brother is on about. And, well, I don't really know if I can sleep in here. I know this is my home, but the thought that it has been taken over by the Order – and apparently the majority of them live here now – is rather disturbing.
"Well? I'm all ears." I say, and study my brother as he pours me another drink.
He caps the bottle and gives Lupin a brief glance before his eyes lock with mine. "You want to know everything that has happened since 1979?" He asks, and I can see coldness in his eyes that is new to me. Now I'm even more curious to learn what has happened in this world, and to him.
I nod and sip my drink.
He swallows. "Pettigrew betrayed us. He sold Lily and James to Voldemort." He says wearily and looks down.
So…Potter and the Muggleborn are dead. I can see it in my brother's and Lupin's eyes.
"I'm sorry for your loss." I mutter, out of politeness, since I don't really care. I didn't know them.
Sirius frowns and glares at the table as he continues. "Everyone thought it was me," he says resentfully. "I had a feeling in my gut the night it happened…So I went to see them. James and Lily. It was too late. I came too late to see my best f-friend's –" I hear his voice crack with emotion " – and his wife's l-lifeless bodies," He mumbles with thick voice.
Shit. I glance at Lupin. He looks devastated. I don't understand. I mean, I get that it must be hard to talk about their friends' deaths, but…it should be easier, after so many years have gone by.
My brother takes a deep breath and opens the bottle again, and takes a swig straight from it. "I tracked him down, and then Wormt…Pettigrew blew up a street full of muggles and faked his death. I was there. And then the Aurors came." He says darkly, looking somewhat crazed, and the bottle in his hand shatters into pieces.
"Fuck!" I yell in surprise as the liquid and shards of glass scatter everywhere.
Lupin stands up quickly and lifts his wand. I flinch, but he only waves it to clean up the mess my brother made. Sirius shoves his hands in his hair and leans his elbows on his knees. He's shaking. I'm beginning to feel slightly alarmed.
"Pads…" Lupin says quietly. They're apparently still calling each other with those stupid names. Lupin and I both stare at my brother, whose face is twisted with pain and madness.
I clear my throat. "Sirius?"
Sirius starts to laugh. He fucking laughs. What the fuck is going on? I glance at Lupin helplessly, but he gives me back a grim look and shakes his head slightly. Lupin and I stay silent for a while until my brother's laughter dries up.
"What happened?" I ask impatiently.
Sirius whirls to look at me. He glares at me. He bares his teeth. He looks like a fucking lunatic and I'm quite alarmed now, to be honest.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK HAPPENED?!" He growls, and I can barely keep my impassive expression intact.
"I was taken to Azkaban, dear brother." He says lightly. The variation in his voice makes me feel anything but at ease. I'm beginning to think that he's suffering from mania.
"For twelve. Fucking. Years." He says with a mad grin.
And now I know why.
"I'm – I – Fuck." I stammer for the second time this night. I'm speechless. My brother has been in prison for twelve years. For a crime he didn't commit. That's just…sad. I also feel somewhat guilty for not being there for him. Why did the Order and his friends let him rot in there for that long? I'm finding it hard to believe that they all had bought Pettigrew's scheme.
Sirius huffs and stands up. "I need a drink." He grunts and leaves the library.
"Where did he go?" I ask from Lupin, who shrugs and stares at his hands.
I stare at him and see how conscience-stricken he looks. I wonder where he had been when my brother was suffering in prison. Weren't they supposed to be friends? I ask him, and he clenches his jaw and turns to look at me.
"I…I thought it was Sirius. I thought he was guilty." He says with shame edged into his voice and I arch a disbelieving brow at him. I don't really buy that shit, since everyone who knew Potter and my brother, knew they practically worshipped each other.
Lupin clears his throat. "Look, Regulus…Sirius is not all right. I'm sure you understand that. He's spent twelve years in a small cell, surrounded by Dementors, repeating his worst memories in his head every minute of every day." He says with a guilt-ridden look.
I give him a contemplative nod. I get that. He has the right to be a bit insane after that. "How did he get out?" I ask, studying Lupin. I'm curious about the details since I doubt the Ministry sets prisoners free out of the goodness of their heart.
He frowns. "He escaped two years ago. He's been on the run for most of that time, living in woods and caves, trying to feed himself with rats and wild animals." Lupin says and even though I take note that he doesn't exactly answer my question – since it should be quite impossible to escape Azkaban – I'm rather dumbstruck.
"And where were you?" I ask coldly.
He smiles thinly. "A year ago, I met Sirius and found out what exactly had happened with James and Lily. Who really betrayed them. Sirius stayed at my place for a while, but since the Aurors were still searching for him, he took off. He wanted to be closer to Harry."
"Potter's son?"
He nods slowly. "Sirius's godson."
I roll my eyes. Of course.
I stifle a yawn, knowing that there's still more to the story. "And all this time, you've been fighting against the Dark Lord?" I ask, wondering if the war has been going on all this time.
Lupin shakes his head and eyes me thoughtfully for a moment before he speaks. "It's only been over a month since his resurrection. He was defeated in 1981."
"By whom?" I ask. I'm impressed, not by the Dark Lord's resurrection, but that someone was actually able to defeat him. The fact that he was able to come back indicates that the Horcrux was indeed not destroyed.
"Harry Potter." Sirius says from the doorway. He has a fresh new bottle of Firewhiskey in hand and he staggers a bit as he walks towards the fireplace and plops down next to me. He's drunk.
I frown at him but decide to focus on what he said, and I'm slightly taken aback as I process the information. "What?" I ask with irritation. The boy must have been a mere toddler then.
Sirius sighs. "Let's just say he did. It's not something I'm willing to go through right now." He says harshly.
I nod. "So, the Dark Lord was defeated in 1981?" I ask, waiting for either of them to continue.
My brother scowls at me. "Must you call him that? You sound like a fucking Death Eater." He says with a hint of sneer.
I smirk bitterly. "Can't really help it, brother. I was a Death Eater, I'm sure you knew that."
Sirius grits his teeth and Lupin coughs uncomfortably.
"As I said, he was resurrected a little over a month ago." Lupin says quickly. "The Order was reformed days after that."
So…It seems that everything is starting over again. Only now, I'm stuck on the other side. I do hope that the Dark Lord is defeated for once and for all, but…I'm not certain if I am willing to put myself into such danger again, not after what happened in the cave. I have seen his forces, witnessed his power and faced death. I'm beginning to think I do not want to be in the middle of all this.
Lupin yawns. My eyelids feel heavier and I can feel the beginning of a migraine. It is still dark outside, but according to the goblin made timepiece on the wall it's nearly three in the morning.
"I think we should continue this tomorrow." Lupin says tiredly and eyes my brother with a pointed look. He then stands up and pries the bottle from Sirius's hands.
Sirius glances at me. "Night, Reggie." He grunts, and I get the feeling that he's dismissing me. What an arse. Even though he apparently is the head of my house now, he clearly lacks subtlety.
I roll my eyes and stand up, swaying slightly as I move towards the door. I need to rest, now.
Fuck. I enter my room, after what seemed to be a thousand steps. I hate not being able to apparate. I glance around in the darkness. The room is dusty and the air is stuffy, but everything seems to be untouched. Kreacher has probably kept the place in order in my absence. I sigh with relief and crash into my bed with my clothes on, falling asleep immediately.
Grimmauld Place, August 1st 1995
I wake up with a groan. My head is pounding. My mouth is dry. I need something to drink.
I slowly blink and see the sun shining brightly behind the emerald and silver curtains of my bedroom. What the hell? How did I get here? It takes me a moment to remember as the memories from last night fill my mind.
"Kreacher," I say weakly, and immediately hear a faint pop beside my bed.
"Master calls Kreacher?" The elf murmurs, and I squint at it. I didn't really realise it last night, but the elf certainly looks much older than I remember. Well, it is older, isn't it?
"Could I have some water? And some Pepper-up Potion?" I croak to the elf, who nods fervently.
"Of course, master Regulus!" Kreacher squeaks and disapparates. Soon the elf emerges again, with a glass of water and a purple vial of Pepper-up Potion. I sit up on the bed and lean against the headboard.
"Thank you, Kreacher." I say wearily and inspect the potion a bit longer than I normally would, my throat making a protest – which is quite unsurprising after last night. I eventually drain the potion and the water, while my elf stares at me with wide eyes.
"What is it?" I ask, not unkindly.
Kreacher's ears quiver. "Master is alive." The elf whispers.
I smile. "Yes, I am. I'm glad to see you are as well." I say, and it is the truth. Kreacher might be the only one in this place – and this time – I actually can trust.
"What happened here after I…left?" I ask, and Kreacher lets out a miserable sob.
"Mistress is distraught with grief after master Regulus disappears and Master dies." The elf wails. "She kills herself in the end," the elf blubbers.
Fuck. This is too much. I don't want to think about the fates of my parents right now. I swallow deeply. "You stayed here after? Alone?"
Kreacher nods. "Until Master Sirius, the filthy blood-traitor, comes back." He mutters, and I narrow my eyes at the elf's words. Kreacher seems oblivious.
"Who else lives here? Who comes around here?" I ask. I want to prepare myself if I happen to stumble on someone who I'm not too friendly with.
Kreacher pulls its ears. "Master Sirius forbids Kreacher to tell."
I groan inwardly. "You can tell me, Kreacher. You can trust me," I say patiently, and smile at the elf.
That does it, apparently. I learn that in addition to my brother and the werewolf, a whole clan of Weasleys live in here, as well as a Muggleborn witch and my brother's godson, Harry Potter. Mother would be so proud. For a moment, I amuse myself by imagining how she would react if she saw all these people running around in her house, until the thought of her makes it hard for me to breathe. Instead I focus on Kreacher, who tells me that several Aurors and other questionable people stop by every week. One of them is my old friend, Severus Snape. I wonder what he's up to nowadays. I'll undoubtedly find out soon enough.
I know I have to ask about the Horcrux. "What happened to the locket, Kreacher?" I ask gravely. Kreacher starts to shake with fear.
"Master Regulus…Kreacher tries to destroy it, like master tells it to. But Kreacher is unsuccessful. The locket is not breaking." The Elf says miserably, eyeing me with a frightened look in its eyes.
Of course. I should've known that Kreacher wouldn't be able to destroy it. I vaguely remember reading something about the methods, and I'm quite sure my elf doesn't share the knowledge.
"Where is it now?" I ask hastily. I truly hope Kreacher has kept it safe.
Kreacher eyes me warily. "I keeps it in the drawing room. With mistress's other artefacts."
I wave of relief washes over me. "Could you bring it to me?" I ask kindly, and Kreacher nods eagerly before disapparating. A minute later, the elf presents the locket to me, and I examine it closely. I can feel the dark magic thrumming inside of it. Images of the cave, a hundred Inferi and the horrendous self-destructive thoughts – a lovely side effect of the poison – start to swarm in my head.
I feel dizzy. I quickly place the locket into my bedside table drawer. I ask Kreacher to lock it so that no one else but me can open it.
After Kreacher has locked the drawer with its magic, I ask the elf to clean up my room and retrieve me a fresh set of clothes while I take a shower in the bathroom attached to my bedroom.
I almost groan as I step into the steaming hot shower. A warm stream of water runs down my body, washing away the grime from the last twenty-four hours. I sigh and lean my hands against the tile wall as the water pours onto my back and neck. I twist my left arm and see the gruesome mark. I loathe it. How could I have been so stupid? Why couldn't I have been like my brother? I only did what was expected of me, and where did that get me in the end?
I'm overwhelmed by the thoughts that circle in my head. I've lost everything and everyone. I'm trapped in another time; in the future. I can't go back – I know what fate awaits me there. But I don't know if I belong here either.
Before I finish washing, I briefly consider getting myself off, but eventually decide against it and step away from the shower. I don't think even masturbation is going to clear my head. I get dressed, and find my room to be rid of the dust. I hope Kreacher will expand his cleaning skills to the rest of the house, since what I saw last night…well, let's just say the place is rather filthy.
I walk downstairs, slowly, quietly, trying to listen to the other occupants. It's quiet, and I gather everyone is downstairs having breakfast. The smells that float in the air are divine. I suddenly walk faster towards the dining room on the ground floor, my stomach rumbling as I descend the stairs. Once I get there, I pause in confusion. I can hear voices of conversation, laughter, and clattering of plates and goblets coming from the basement. The others must be having breakfast in the kitchen, which is not as fancy and spacious as the dining room. I shake my head in bemusement and walk down a set of narrow stone stairs towards the basement.
I push the kitchen door open, feeling quite nervous.
"Reggie!" My brother exclaims happily. He's looking cheerful and relaxed – quite the opposite from what I saw last night. "Come here," He says with a grin and makes room at the table between him and his godson.
Everyone is staring at me, and I'm feeling rather uncomfortable. I glance around the kitchen. It's equally filthy as the rest of the house, but otherwise exactly like I remember it. The iron pots and pans are hanging from the ceiling like they always have. The large wooden table in the centre of the room hasn't moved an inch. The people who sit around it though, are something new entirely.
"Everyone. This is my brother, Regulus." Sirius introduces me with a wide grin, and based on the unsurprised looks, I can only assume that the others were already aware about my arrival.
"Pleased to meet you," I say politely to everyone, my voice tight. Everyone murmurs their greetings as I move smoothly to sit down next to my brother.
They are all still staring at me.
"So, you've met Harry and Remus already," My brother says. "This is Arthur Weasley and his wife, Molly," Sirius says and nods towards a ginger-haired man and woman, sitting on the opposite side of the table.
Mr. Weasley grins at me and gives me a nod. "Good to meet you, Regulus." He says. I nod and reply accordingly.
"How are you adjusting, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asks from me, and I'm a bit stunned by her too familiar approach. She's acting like she knows me, or like I'm a child or something.
I clear my throat. "I'm fine, thank you."
"Coffee or Tea?" She asks kindly.
"Tea, please," I say and give her a polite smile. She flicks her wand and a steaming mug of tea appears in front of me.
"These are our children," Mrs. Weasley says and eyes the several children scattered along the table. "The redheads, at least. Although, I always think of Harry and Hermione my own as well," She continues with a chuckle, nodding towards the brown-haired witch and Potter, who sit side by side next to me.
"Fred and George are the ones at the end of the table, then Ronald, and Ginevra." She says and I nod and greet them. The children – or well, teenagers – greet me with suspicious looks before they resume their meals.
I sip my tea and eat my breakfast in silence. I listen as the Weasley children bicker about something with their parents. Potter too stays quiet and I can feel him studying me from the corner of his eye. Lupin and my brother discuss Ministry politics, which seem to be the same as in my past.
Everyone's acting like nothing's different. Like nothing strange has happened. As if a stranger isn't sitting amongst them. Or that the said stranger doesn't currently possess a piece of the Dark Lord's soul, or, at least, have that piece of a soul kept stashed in his bedside table.
After breakfast, Mr. Weasley leaves for work, and Mrs. Weasley orders everyone – the children, that is, since I'm sure as hell not going to take orders from a blood-traitor who has taken over my home – to wash themselves and then to their chores.
I yawn and take another piece of toast from the serving plate. As I nibble it absently, the kitchen slowly clears and only my brother and I stay at the table.
"So…How are you doing?" Sirius asks, drumming his fingers against the table. He takes a sip from his coffee, and I'm quite sure he has spiked it with alcohol. God, my brother's a proper drunk.
I scrunch up my nose in distaste as I eye his cup, and he barks a laugh.
"I'm fine," I reply plainly.
I'm far from fine, actually, but us Blacks are taught to keep our emotions to ourselves.
Sirius sighs. "Yeah." He mutters, evidently far from fine as well.
We stay silent for a while.
"What did you mean yesterday?" He suddenly asks. "You said something about facing death. About sacrificing yourself," He says, and gives me a scrutinising look.
I try not to groan. Fuck. How am I going to explain that?
"I only assumed it must have happened since that was what the spell required," I say simply.
"What does that mean? Where were you before you came here?" He asks sharply.
I shrug indifferently. "Dunno. I don't remember." I say, and he scoffs.
"You're lying, Reggie." He says tersely, and god, he looks just like father. I can't think of him right now. I can't handle it. I look away and clench my jaw.
There is a short silence before Sirius sighs again. "We're cleaning up the house, to make it more habitable, to serve as headquarters. Care to join us?" He asks, and I shake my head with incredulity.
"Me? To clean my own house?" I huff and give him an unbelieving look. "You must be well out of your tree if you think I'm going to scrub the floors, brother." I retort with a sneer.
He grumbles something under his breath, finishes his coffee with a single gulp and stands up. "Whatever. We'll be in the drawing room." He says moodily and leaves the kitchen.
I heave a sigh, and finish my breakfast.
As Kreacher starts to clean the kitchen, I wonder what to do next. Feeling like a stranger in my own home, I decide to look over the house as I wait for Dumbledore to arrive.
I walk upstairs to the ground floor and step into father's study, which is opposite to the dining room. The room is dark and musty, and the black curtains are drawn in front of the windows. The place is crawling with spiders, doxies and other pests. I purse my lips, really hoping I'd had a wand on me, and make a mental note to discuss that with Dumbledore. Or someone. I glance at father's desk, and it's neat, as always. I walk closer and open one of the drawers – his Firewhiskey stash is intact. Smirking slightly, I close the drawer and leave the room. The hallway is dark and quiet, but I can hear a faint muttering from the wall behind moth-eaten velvet curtains. Feeling curious, as I do not remember it from before, I walk closer and open them. And I freeze in shock.
I'm facing a woman in a portrait, who starts to scream, her eyes rolling in her head as she stares at me.
"M-Mother?" I croak as I take in the woman in the portrait. She's old; her skin is yellow, and she's wearing a black cap and veil.
The woman lets out a strangled moan, her eyes widening and for a moment I think she's going to faint – if that is even possible.
"Regulus!" She screeches.
"Mother?" I ask again in shock. What is happening? Why is her portrait here? I swallow deeply as I stare at her.
"Oh! Regulus! My dear son, worthy son, the heir to my House! Finally, my son is here to cleanse this place from the Half-breeds, mutants and freaks! I thank you Salazar!" She wails incoherently.
"I'm – I – " I manage to choke, completely stunned by what I'm seeing. I haven't even had the time to deal with my parents' deaths, and now I'm facing my deceased mother's portrait. It's…paralysing. I'm having a hard time to breathe.
"So…I see you've met mother." Sirius says from the foot of the stairs, watching me with an amused expression.
I stare at him in disbelief. "You think this is funny?" I gasp, and my brother hasn't got the time to answer me, before mother starts to screech again.
"Yoooou!" Mother shrieks, a sneer taking place on her face as she sees my brother. "YOU! The Blood-traitor, abomination, the shame of my flesh!" She screams. "I thank Merlin that the rightful heir of my House has finally arrived to rid this place from filth!" She continues, now drooling as she screams with dedication.
Oh, mother. I sigh with exasperation and bewilderment. This is all kinds of fucked up.
Sirius grins at her. The fucker. "You're deranged, dear mother. I know you love it when I bring the scum around," My brother says cunningly and laughs as he flicks his wand at the portrait. The curtains close and my mother's screams are muffled, and soon fade away.
I'm still trying to process what I have just witnessed. My head starts to hurt. I need to lie down.
I walk up to Sirius, who has the audacity to smirk at me. I'm shaking in anger, grief, and disgust. I give my brother a proper shove and he staggers backwards, bumping towards the wall as I push past at him towards the stairs. I need to get away from him.
"Reggie…come on, I'm just having a bit of fun with her, is all…" He says with a hint of remorse in his voice.
I turn swiftly and give him a cold look. "You're sick." I say simply and turn around, and head towards my room.
I hear my brother sighing wearily.
Once I return to my room, I have to suppress the urge to smash things, to throw things. If only I had a wand, I could actually do so. With a wand, I could cast a silencing charm and destroy my room without anyone being any wiser, but since I don't, all I can do is to take in deep breaths, and try to calm down.
I go to lie in my bed and stare at the canopy. I think about my parents, and try to remember every last detail about them. I think about father, who was silent, but always eyed me with pride, even if we weren't in public. Father complimented me for my school records, and started to explain the family investments to me, training me to be the next Head of House Black. I think about mother, who always smothered me with praise. She was overjoyed when I turned out to be just like she wanted.
Only two days ago, they were here. And now they are gone, forever. I grit my teeth and try to swallow the lump in my throat. Even though I wasn't as close with my parents as I was with my brother during our childhood, they were still my parents.
My blood.