Chapter 22: All We've Done
Grimmauld Place, March 28th 1997
Warm fingers entwine slowly with mine, determined bright green eyes with a steady gaze. "I'm not backing out on this."
Those same eyes, the intense look, giving me the confidence when my own is wavering. "Tell him that his brother's not alone anymore. That we'll get him out, together."
The hospital ward, his head wrapped up in bandages, his mind still seemingly in disorder from the injury, but those same eyes, that earnest and believing look still heavy in them, his mouth pulled up into a relaxed grin. "Oh, I'm sure he'll murder the both of us…"
The look of doubt before I left…
The look of disorientation…confusion. And the words of my cousin's running in my head, over and over again.
"Just…I…do you think this is…wise? You've both lost someone…maybe he's attaching himself to you because you remind him of Sirius. That maybe he doesn't know what he wants, and maybe he is confused…"
"Fuck," I breathe out quietly and toss the letter back to my desk.
I let out a huff of annoyance and press the heels of my palms against my eyes, resting my elbows against the smooth surface of my desk.
Why did Nymphadora have to open her mouth? Why did she have to interfere? Why did she have to plant these thoughts…these doubts in my head?
I lower my hands and glance at the letter, dated over a week ago. It's a letter from Potter. Asking me how am I holding up, asking if I've seen anyone, if I've heard anything.
Asking if he could visit me during his Easter holiday.
…Visit me! Like he'd need a permission for it.
I let out a weary sigh, not knowing what to write to him, not knowing if I even should write anything back.
What if she's right?
I swear under my breath and push myself away from the desk. I flop down back to my bed, deciding to rest for a bit. It is still early.
Lupin's probably going to visit today. He's made a habit of doing that, usually some days after the full moon, even though he should be somewhere with the werewolf pack, on his mission. I haven't really seen anyone during the past month, except him.
I feel like nothing is happening, like nothing is moving forward. Everyone else might be, but not me. I'm still here. Locked up in my home, desperately trying not to let myself be affected by how uncontrollable everything around me is. But still trying not to forget what is important.
What is important…
My brother. Destroying the Horcrux. Destroying him. The Dark Lord.
I feel like I have changed. Everything feels more out of my control than ever, and even things I could control, I don't. I'm not the same man I was two years ago. Probably even different from the one before my brother's…death…or whatever it is that it should be called.
Perhaps it is the loneliness that does it, or feeling inadequate. Will it ever change?
I lie in bed with my thoughts for several moments before I drag myself downstairs, remembering only then that I don't have Kreacher there to prepare me breakfast.
"Brilliant," I mutter as I open the kitchen door.
"What is?" Lupin asks from the table, where he's sitting at, with a cup of coffee in one hand and the Daily Prophet in other.
There's a pot of coffee on the table, as well as a small assortment of breakfast items.
I give Lupin an accepting nod before I speak. "Breakfast," I grunt and sit down opposite to him and start to load my plate. "I should invite you here more often," I mutter wryly and pour a tall cup of coffee for myself. I need caffeine to clear my head.
Lupin lets out an amused sound. "Let me know when you actually start inviting me here…" He says lightly and turns his focus on the paper, a small curve on his lips.
I eat in silence, and some time after Lupin finishes the paper and hands it to me. I give him a curt nod and shake the paper open, wondering how many people have been reported missing or found dead this time. I presume at least no one I know, since Lupin would've said something.
It turns out, there isn't much in the paper – at least no mentions of attacks or deaths, or arrests. There has been a silence for a few weeks now, and nothing more than Fletcher being arrested and sent to Azkaban has happened. Apparently, he had been impersonating an Inferius during an attempted burglary. Serves him right, I think, even though the Order's now using their resources to get him released.
It is unnerving, that nothing's happening. Like something big is about to go on soon. It makes my stomach twinge with uneasiness and the marred mark on my forearm prickle with alarm.
I let out a sigh and drop the paper on the table. "Nothing worth mentioning then…?" I say and glance at Lupin, who has been eyeing me carefully behind his coffee cup.
His mouth twists down a bit. "Nothing the Ministry is aware of, at least. But I have heard rumours…" He says slowly, looking very tired and almost overwhelmed.
My brows lift up. "What have you heard?" I ask sharply, knowing already that it can't be anything good if he's heard something from the werewolves. Maybe they are organising now, maybe they've received orders to attack…
It's fucking frustrating to live like this, to be in constant anticipation and alert.
Lupin sighs wearily, placing his cup on the table. "They're planning something. Don't know what exactly, but I think we need to ask the Order to assemble, to see if anyone else has heard anything…" He says, a deep frown between his brows.
I give him a nod and stay quiet, my mind whirling again. Is this it? The big one? And if it is, I have to have a chat with Dumbledore. Because the Dark Lord will not be finished until the piece of his soul, his safeguard is finished.
Why didn't I do it sooner? There could have been a chance that the object had been destroyed already, and when facing a situation like we now might be facing, we wouldn't have to worry about it. We would then have a chance – if there ever was going to be one. I'm feeling restless, going over every bit of information I've learned about the Horcrux in my head. I'm so absorbed with my thoughts that I don't notice Lupin is talking to me.
"…Regulus?"
"Hmm?" I ask, shaking my head slightly to clear my thoughts. "What is it?"
Lupin watches me studiously. "I asked, how are you?"
I shrug indifferently. "Fine."
He gives me a conflicted look, seemingly not taking my word for it, but still not pressing the matter further.
"Have you talked with anyone?" He asks, almost subtly. "Other than Kreacher," he quickly adds, before he looks around the kitchen. "…Where is the elf?" He continues with a puzzled look.
"Potter needed it," I say curtly and drink my cup empty.
Lupin's brows lift slightly. "Oh? Why?"
"Not my business," I merely say, not in the mood to explain how Potter's stalking my cousin. Not trusting myself to stay unaffected enough to speak about it, since even thinking about the subject makes me uncomfortable, makes my head spin with frustration and worry. If Kreacher wasn't reporting its findings to me as well, I would have found a way to stop it.
Lupin looks thoughtful for a moment before he speaks, "You've been in contact with Harry?"
My insides do a small flip, and I look quickly down at the table, pouring myself another cup, even though I'm already uncharacteristically fidgety, and definitely not in a need of another dose of caffeine in my veins.
"He…asked if he could visit me. If he could stop by at Grimmauld. On his Easter holiday," I say, a bit roughly as I busy myself with my cup.
Lupin lets out a noncommittal sound and as I glance at him, I see him watching me carefully. "And what did you say to him?" He asks casually, a contemplative look in his eyes.
I clear my throat, feeling slightly awkward. "I haven't said anything," I say and fiddle with the handle of my cup.
Lupin eyes me for a moment in silence, evidently processing my words. "You should. Let him come see you, I mean. Let him come to Grimmauld. It…it means more to him than you might think…" He says hesitantly, and scratches his scruff of a beard before he continues. "Harry has been denied a lot of things during the past years, for his protection, of course…but…I'm not so sure if that was the right thing to do." He says, a frown appearing between his brows. "He might have had more time with…with Sirius," he finishes quietly.
My eyes flip back to meet his. "I'm not my brother." I say, with a hint of hardness in my voice.
I don't know why I'm saying this to him. Maybe…maybe since it is the thing that is bothering me the most about Potter. Does he think of me as my brother? Not romantically, definitely no. Merlin. But…is he so desperate to find a way to connect to my brother that it doesn't matter what he gets?
"I don't think Harry thinks of you as your brother, Regulus," Lupin says after a short moment, his expression searching.
I really fucking hope so. I clear my throat and change the subject before he starts asking questions I don't want to answer. "How long are you staying?" I ask and flick my wand to clear the table, sending our plates into cleaning in the sink.
Lupin rubs the bridge of his nose. "I'll be at London at least until the Order meeting," he says, looking drained. "Which reminds me, I need to make a floocall and see if Dumbledore could organise the meeting as soon as possible," he says and gives me a small smile before he stands up and walks towards the doorway.
"Write to him, Regulus," Lupin says, lingering at the door, his voice authoritative and kind at the same time.
As soon as the door closes behind him, I let out a frustrated sigh and fold my arms on the table and drop my head to rest against them.
Hogwarts, March 31st 1997
There's a sound of footsteps, as if someone's running up the stairs to the Astronomy tower, towards me.
"Harry!" Hermione calls quietly, out of breath as she spots me leaning against the railing, watching over the dim grounds at dusk.
"Hey," I say as I watch her walking closer and stop next to me.
Hermione's eyes sweep over the grounds, and I know what she's probably thinking; even though it's dark, the view is still nice.
"It's so peaceful," she says after a short silence.
I hum agreeably as I watch a pack of Thestrals fly low over Hagrid's Hut.
"Why are you here?" Hermione asks quietly, her eyes at the Forbidden Forest.
I lift one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Wanted some peace and quiet, I reckon."
Hermione turns to eye me with a look that tells me she knows there's something bothering me. She stays quiet, waiting me expectantly to turn to look at her.
I eventually do and rub my neck awkwardly. "It's…Regulus."
Hermione's brows lift up slightly. "Oh?" She says tentatively, her eyes moving over my face.
As I chew the inside of my cheek and contemplate what to say to her, she continues, "Has something happened? Between you two?" She asks softly.
I let out a weary sigh and turn back to lean my forearms against the railing, not able to look at her in the eye if I'm to confess anything to her. She did ask me, a couple of weeks after Christmas, inquiring if I'd met him. Regulus. I merely told her that we went to Grimmauld for dinner with the Weasleys and then Regulus and a bunch of other people spent the Christmas day at Burrow. Hermione hadn't pressed the matter further, and I hadn't said anything more to the subject.
It's not that I didn't want to talk about it with her, just…I needed time to think things through. And then I became distracted by Malfoy. And by Dumbledore's lessons. And by Quidditch. And then I saw him again, in the infirmary, and I was reminded of what I was missing, underneath of everything else.
Merlin, my brain sounds like a proper sap.
"Yeah. Something has happened," I say wearily. Hermione stays quiet, listening, waiting.
"We…well, we kissed. During the holidays. And again before I left back to Hogwarts," I say quietly, feeling my neck and my cheeks warm up with embarrassment.
Hermione let's out an intrigued hum. I glance at her. She's smirking.
"Stop that," I grunt, equally pleased and annoyed by her reaction.
Hermione lets out a quiet giggle.
"I mean it," I mutter and look away, not able to talk about this if she keeps grinning at me like that.
Hermione clears her throat and her voice becomes sombre. "Okay, but Harry…why didn't you say anything earlier?"
I shake my head slightly and stare at the grounds. "Dunno. I…I needed time. To process it. To figure out what it meant…" I say unsurely.
"And? Did you? Process it?"
I've done nothing but processed it after the infirmary. Every bloody night, I've been processing it. Thinking about him, thinking about how bummed out I felt after he left. How frustrated I felt when he didn't kiss me then. I've been processing it so much that I even wrote to him, asking if we could meet.
I let out another deep sigh and scratch my head in thought. Why the hell hasn't he replied? I know he's received the letter since Hedwig came back a couple of days afterwards, hooting reassuringly before requesting a handful of owl treats.
"Yeah. I…I want to see him. Talk to him. I need to know what's happening. What's gonna happen," I mutter distractedly, my mind still somewhere between meeting him that night and the week after that, when I sent him the letter.
Hermione steps closer to me, placing a hand against my shoulder. "So write to him. Maybe…maybe you could see him. I mean, it is a relatively safe place, after all, Grimmauld Place. And we have still nearly two weeks left of our Easter break," she says sensibly.
I glance at her. "I did. He didn't write back," I say, trying to look indifferent, even though I can hear my voice betraying me, letting both of us know exactly how much that bothers me.
"Oh. When? How long ago? …Has something happened?" Hermione asks quickly, looking thoughtful and anxious at the same time.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. This can't be happening again. First Sirius, and now – granted, there hasn't been any uninvited fake visions about anyone, but…that has been one of the thoughts running in my mind lately. "Two weeks ago."
Hermione frowns, her face turned to the grounds again, seemingly in thought. After a short silence, she speaks, turning back to me. "I think you should go to McGonagall. Tell her that you are worried. That you'd like to know if he's all right, and if you could meet him?"
I arch a brow at her. "And what if he's not replying because he doesn't want to meet me?" I ask, unable to stop the feeling of anxiousness spreading again inside me. What if?
Hermione scoffs. "Then he should be a man enough to put that into writing."
I hum noncommittally and ponder over her suggestion. Maybe she has a point. Whatever it is, I need to know that he's there. Unharmed. So that I can sleep at nights. "Yeah, okay, I'll go see her."
Hermione smiles brightly at me. "Brilliant! Now…Can we maybe go back to our common room? It's freezing out here," She says, shivering slightly.
I give her a small smile and nod at her, digging out the Invisibility Cloak from my school bag and throwing it over us so we won't get caught by Filch on our way back to the tower.
"Thanks," I whisper to her as we make our way along the halls.
Hermione squeezes my arm gently. "No problem."
Hogwarts, April 1st 1997
It's Tuesday morning, and we're in the middle of breakfast in the Great Hall. It's not exactly early, since it is our Easter break, but there are only a handful of students scattered at the house tables.
"I swear to Merlin, Harry, if that elf pops into our dorm in the middle of the night again like that, I'll strangle it!"
"Ron!"
I cringe at my friend. "Sorry, mate." I say and give him an apologetic look. Kreacher came to visit me last night, to give a report of its findings about Malfoy. Luckily it was only Ron and me, since all our other dormmates have left to their homes for the Easter break. I know for a fact that Kreacher's done it in purpose, since there have been many chances for it to give me a report about its project at times when I was actually awake. But I'll take what I can get.
I notice Hermione narrowing her eyes at me. "Harry…? Why is Kreacher appearing into your dorm in the middle of the night? Don't tell me you're still making it follow Malfoy!" She hisses quietly, glancing quickly around us.
I shrug. "What if I am? And it's for a good reason, Hermione. Kreacher has found out where Malfoy's been disappearing from the Map!" I whisper hastily, feeling smug. I knew the snake was up to something.
Hermione falters slightly. "What is it?"
"Apparently, Malfoy's been making visits to the Room of Requirement!" I tell my friends excitedly, but still keeping my voice down. "He's been polyjuicing Grabbe and Goyle into different students every time! Kreacher told me that there are usually two girls waiting for him on the other side of the wall, and you already know that I've seen Grabbe and Goyle in the Map, hovering on the seventh floor nearly every day," I say with a victorious smile.
Ron snorts loudly at his cereals. "Grabbe and Goyle…as girls. Now that's a sight I'd want to see," He says, grinning slyly.
Hermione purses her lips and seems to be thinking over something. "But that can mean anything, Harry," she eventually says, sounding a bit unsure.
I let out a frustrated huff. "He's a Death Eater, and he's up to something," I whisper darkly.
Ron shifts uncomfortably while Hermione rolls her eyes. "We don't have any proof, Harry. You know, I wish you'd stop wasting your time on him. You should instead focus on Slughorn, and getting that memory! We know Malfoy's practically harmless. A bully, but, well, a coward." Hermione whispers primly.
Ron lets out a low groan and frowns a bit. I glance at him before I fix a hard look at Hermione. "I've tried to talk with Slughorn nearly every day now, but he's doing his best to avoid me! And I know Malfoy's a coward, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have friends who aren't," I tell her firmly. "I'm not gonna stop until I find what exactly is he doing in there."
Hermione lets out a long sigh and focuses on her tea. A moment after, the morning post is delivered. There is a remarkably smaller flock of owls soaring over the hall than usually, as most of the students are visiting their homes during the holidays.
I spot Hedwig immediately, and stare at it in puzzlement as the owl drops closer, before gracefully landing in front of my plate, its leg outstretched, and a letter in its grip. I feel a peculiar jolt in my stomach. I wonder. I hope. I force my fingers not to shake and I'm definitely not looking at Hermione, who most likely is eyeing me with a knowing expression. Hedwig sneaks a piece of bacon from my plate before taking off with a soft hoot.
Ron lets out a long groan next to me.
"Um. Mate?" I ask quietly as I take in my friend's purple and straining face, putting the envelope down on the table before opening it. I can wait a bit longer.
"Ron?" Hermione asks worriedly, her eyes moving across Ron's face from the opposite side of the table.
"I'm fine." Ron grunts, looking anything but. Ron let's out a wheezing sound. "Those bloody wankers…" he hisses abruptly.
Hermione and I both stare at him in bewilderment.
"Mate, wha- "
Ron growls, pressing a hand over his stomach. "U-NO-POO…" He grits out, sweat beading into his brow.
Hermione's still stunned and worried, when I understand what is happening.
April Fools' Day. Ron seeming like he's constipated. I quickly bite back a grin as Ron excuses himself and walks quickly away from the hall, undoubtedly heading towards the hospital wing.
Hermione turns to look at me. "What was t…oooh!" Hermione says, realising in midsentence and her expression turns into something between concerned and amused.
"How did they even manage that?" She eventually wonders with a disapproving tone.
I grin at her. "Dunno. But they're kinda brilliant," I say with a mild grin, not worried for my friend since I know for a fact that Ron's brothers' constipation-causing product is not as painful than it is uncomfortable. Yes. They got me during the holidays.
"Potter!" McGonagall's brisk voice stops me on my tracks after breakfast.
I'm near the front doors to the castle, on my way to see Hagrid by myself. Hermione, not truly convinced by the harmlessness of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products, has gone to see that Ron indeed is okay in the infirmary.
I quickly turn to meet the stern gaze of the Head of my House, wondering briefly if I've done something wrong. "Professor?"
"Follow me," She merely says, and turns on her heels, walking towards the staircase, presumably towards her office.
Shit. What have I done now?
We're both silent on our way upstairs, and I try to rack my brain to figure out if I've actually done something that'd have me in detention. Well…there is the whole following Malfoy around with the help of Kreacher. An Elf that does not live in the castle, but at Grimmauld with Regulus. Oh…Maybe she knows about his short visit at the school. Bloody hell. I wonder if she'll let me see him after whatever she's going to scold me for.
As soon as we step into her office, she whisks her wand to close the door and flicks it once more to…silence the room? Merlin…
McGonagall sits at her writing desk, and nods at the two chairs facing her, on the other side of the desk. I gingerly sit down and lift my brows slightly in question, trying to keep an innocent and unknowing look on my face.
She purses her lips slightly before she speaks with a low voice. "Your attendance has been requested," she says and looks at me pointedly.
I must be frowning at her in confusion, as she gives me an inpatient look and continues, "At Grimmauld Place."
My eyes widen slightly in recognition and I quickly clear my throat. "At Grimmauld?" I ask, or croak, more like.
"I will be waiting for you at the Headmaster's office at five o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Don't be late," McGonagall says firmly, her eyes narrowing at mine, scrutinising me.
I swallow hard and try to calm my nerves. Has Regulus contacted the Headmaster? It seems like he has. I now wish I'd read his letter at breakfast. Maybe I'd had a bit of foresight and could have prepared for this. "Er…yeah. I won't."
McGonagall's eyes watch me carefully. "I will return for you on Sunday before lunch," She says, and as my brows lift with surprise, she gives me a strict look, "And I presume I will not have to emphasise the importance of your safety, Potter." She says, her voice grim. "You are not to leave the house during this visit."
I nod at her hastily. "Yes, I won't, professor. You can trust me." My voice sounds calm and serious, if not a bit eager, but my insides, my mind is bursting with excitement.
It seems that I'm allowed to stay at Grimmauld, unsurveilled, for a whole night. Something I haven't been permitted to do even when Sirius was there. How in the name of Merlin had Regulus accomplished that?
Grimmauld Place, April 5th 1997
I walk nervously the last steps to the door of the Headmaster's office. I've barely slept the previous night, unable to shake away the numerous thoughts swirling in my head. I finally read the letter, the moment after I left McGonagall's office on Tuesday, actually. And I read it many, many times after that as well.
The letter hadn't been long. Regulus had merely apologised the delay of his response, and had written that he had requested the Headmaster to allow me to stay at Grimmauld for a short time during the Easter holidays. He hadn't said how exactly had he managed to persuade Dumbledore, but explained that everything had been taken care of.
It had been relatively easy to explain my visit to Hermione and Ron. While Hermione had given me a pleased smile, and a faintly meaningful look, Ron had merely grunted, oblivious to anything else, and told me that he wished that he could've come too, and skip the Apparition exam practice at Hogsmeade, as he was fairly sure he was going to bollocks it up.
I knock on the door, and after hearing a quiet 'enter', I walk inside, feeling nervous.
"Good afternoon, Potter," McGonagall says, and inclines her head. "Shall we?" She says, in a way that doesn't sound a question.
I give her a nod and glance around the room. We're alone. "Where's D- the Headmaster?" I ask, remembering that I hadn't seen him at lunch in the Great Hall either.
McGonagall gives me an unreadable look. "The Headmaster has some urgent matters he needs to attend to. He will not be joining us," she says, her voice firm as she takes a handful of floo powder from the mantel.
I quickly walk up to her and follow her example. After she gives me a curt nod, I throw the powder into the empty fireplace, and instantly, green flames roar into life. I keep my voice steady as I call the place that has been on my dreams and my thoughts more than I want to admit, and walk into the heatless, emerald green fire.
It doesn't take long until I stumble into the familiar drawing room. I step aside to make room for McGonagall as I dust away the soot and glance around me.
"Potter," Regulus greets me politely, standing in the middle of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, looking immaculate as ever.
I don't have time to reply anything other than a quick 'hey', before McGonagall steps gracefully out from the fireplace and with a quick flick of her wand cleans both of our attires.
"Cheers," I mutter, and McGonagall arches a brow at me. "Professor," I hastily add, not sure if I'm imagining the faint amusement flickering in her eyes.
"Black," McGonagall greets Regulus after turning to look at the man in question.
Regulus gives her a nod. "Professor McGonagall, I'm pleased to see you again," he says courteously.
"Likewise," McGonagall says, and to my surprise gives Regulus a hint of a smile before glancing back to the fireplace, "There will be no one else joining us from Hogwarts tonight, so you may close the connection," she says evenly.
Regulus's brows twitch slightly but then he inclines his head and his focus shifts to the fireplace. He lifts his hand to wave his wand, supposedly closing the floo connection. I wonder if this fireplace is connected only to one place? And that is why we have been always using the one in the kitchen?
"Have others arrived yet?" McGonagall asks as she walks towards Regulus.
I walk hesitantly behind her. Others?
…Of course…there has to be an Order meeting here today, otherwise McGonagall probably wouldn't have followed me here.
Regulus clears his throat. "Yes. Everyone except Mr. Weasley and Mr. Shacklebolt were able to attend," he says, his gaze briefly flickering to me before returning back to McGonagall.
McGonagall gives Regulus a noncommittal nod before she turns to look at me. "Potter. As agreed earlier, we do not need to draw unnecessary attention to your presence in here, so, I assume you are able to entertain yourself upstairs until the meeting is over," she says, not unkindly, even though her voice is firm and final.
I look between her and Regulus for a short moment. "Of course. I'll be upstairs," I say eventually, trying to stay unaffected by the knowledge that the Order is gathering here. Trying not to feel irritated by the fact that once again, I am not invited to join them. Not giving Regulus or McGonagall another look, I walk quickly away from the drawing room, feeling both of their eyes in my back as I go.
A couple of hours later, it is half past seven in the evening, and there's a small knock on the door to Sirius's room.
"Come on in," I mutter, distractedly, as I'm in the middle of reading through a large stack of different newspaper articles my godfather has kept. Many of them are about me. Some are about Voldemort, Death Eater attacks, disappearances and so on.
I turn to look at the door as Regulus steps in through it.
"Hi." I say, watching his features carefully.
His expression is tense, and it seems that he's bothered by something. I stand up quickly and take a couple of steps towards him. "Has something happened?" I ask, before he even has time to reply to me.
Regulus lets out a weary sigh. "No," he mutters and heads towards his brother's bed, slumping on the edge of it and levels me with an assessing look. "You wanted to talk?" He asks, his expression giving nothing away.
I let out a small huff. "Don't change the subject. Why did you meet? What was discussed?" I ask, feeling irritated all of a sudden. "Or are you even allowed to tell me?" I ask, unable to shed the bitterness away from my voice.
Regulus's mouth quirks up a bit. He stays quiet for a while, his eyes watching me carefully as I move to sit down next to him, still watching him expectantly.
"There have been rumours coming in from different sources. It has been too quiet. The Order suspects that the Dark Lord will try to take over the Ministry soon," Regulus says quietly, looking away with a contemplative expression.
Take over the Ministry? Bloody hell. Even the mere suspicion is troubling. Would he truly have the power to do that? I suddenly start to feel anxious. He needs to be stopped. I need to get that bloody memory from Slughorn. I could've had done that already. I could've had succeeded earlier. Maybe we would now know more about those Horcruxes. Maybe we'd know how to destroy him. Maybe we already would've succeeded doing that. But I didn't, and now there's a risk of Voldemort taking over the Ministry. If he'll do it – what is stopping him then? We all saw how easily the Ministry took over Hogwarts the previous year – regardless how powerful Dumbledore is.
Shit.
I jump up from the bed and start to pace in the room. I have to make a plan. I have to get that memory from Slughorn.
"What is it?" Regulus asks quietly, his voice blank.
I pause in the middle of the room, glance at him as I try to organise my thoughts, as I try to figure out how to get to Slughorn. For a moment, he looks almost apprehensive.
"I'm…" I grit my teeth together, wanting to tell him everything, but knowing I can't. "I have to do something."
Regulus arches a brow at me. "And how would you do it? How would you stop the greatest Dark Wizard there is?" He asks with a dry voice, looking at me calmly.
I give him a long look before I move back to sit next to him. I can tell him something, at least. "I have no idea. But I know I have to try," I say quietly.
Regulus's eyes snap back to mine, and he gives me a scrutinising look. "The prophecy?" He asks mutedly.
I lift my left shoulder in a mild shrug, watching his reaction.
Regulus looks down at his hands, fingers laced together and hanging loose between his spread knees. Despite his relaxed posture, his jaw is working, and his eyes are blazing. I wouldn't be surprised if he had already suspected what the prophecy was about before this discussion. He suddenly swears under his breath and presses the heels of his palms against his eyes.
"Hey…" I say. "It's okay…yeah, I mean it sucks but I've had time to think it through," I say as I put a calming hand against his shoulder.
Regulus turns slowly to look at me, lowering his hands. "How in the name of Salazar would one ever think that through?" He asks darkly, a deep, cold look in his eyes. Seeing right through me.
"I-I…I don't have a choice, I suppose," I mutter and look away, his gaze too piercing and too hard for this discussion. "It said that…that either must die at the hand of the other. And that neither can live while the other survives…" I recite from memory, keeping my voice steady.
Truth to be told, I haven't really thought about it. I mean, I know what needs to happen, but…it just seems kind of…hopeless – that I'd succeed, and be the one who walks away from it with my limbs still attached and my heart still beating. I know that even without a Horcrux, Voldemort is more powerful than me. But I also know that he has his flaws, his weaknesses, and maybe there is something there, that could help me. So, I have to try.
Regulus is silent for a while, and I can feel his eyes trained at me. Then he lets out a huff of breath. "That's…that's…" He mutters and pauses. I turn to look at him. There's worry in his eyes. And confusion. "Do you really think you have a chance?" He asks quietly.
I give him a thin smile. "I'm still in school. I'm not even of age. He has…powers most people would only dream about. And you obviously think I have little to no chance beating him," I say wryly, and Regulus's brows furrow as he watches me silently.
He leans back to lie down on the bed, his legs still planted on the floor, and lets out an exhausted puff of breath. "Bloody hell. I told…I told my brother that I'd watch over you. That I'd help you. And I'm fucking it up…" He says, almost inaudibly, his eyes closed, his mouth twisted into a grimace.
I feel a flicker of lightness inside me by his words, and can't stop the grin spreading across my face. Then I mull over what he's actually said and let out a faintly amused sound. "It had nothing to do with you. You can't change a prophecy…" I say and let myself watch his features more closely than I usually do, now that his eyes are closed. The sculptured, aristocratic features, the sharp nose and cheekbones, the night-dark hair. I try to recall how his clean-shaven skin feels like, try to recall the taste of his full lips.
"You're staring again," Regulus murmurs, and there's the slightest tinge of pink blush on his cheeks as he opens his eyes.
I bet my cheeks' colour matches his, but I don't look away from him, and instead offer him a guilty smile.
His mouth curves into a smile, before he frowns and becomes sombre. "No…I meant something else. Something I should have done a long time ago…" He mutters quietly, staring at the canopy of the four-poster bed, the look in his eyes weary and dark.
I feel intrigued but refrain from asking, as it seems to be something that he doesn't want to talk about.
"I saw him," Regulus says after a short moment, and my eyes move back to his face.
"Sirius?" I ask quietly.
He nods and remains silent as he pulls up to sit straight.
"How was he? What did he say?" I ask quickly, feeling that familiar pang of helplessness course through me as I think about my godfather.
Regulus's gaze flickers to my eyes before he looks away. "Not good," he says with a deep sigh, that same helplessness briefly crossing his features. "I know…I know that he's not going to give up…but…I don't know if that's enough," he says, his face scrunching up with misery for a short moment before he clears his throat and schools his features. "He was excited to hear you're okay, though…" he says, clenching his jaw.
Without saying a word, I reach out to his hand that is resting on the bed between us, and thread our fingers together. His hand feels warm against mine. I give it a small squeeze, trying to reassure him that we're getting his brother out, trying to let him know that I'm here, and that he's not alone.
Regulus gives me a mildly confused look and stares at our joined hands. "What…what are we doing here, Potter?" He asks quietly, his voice flat.
My stomach jolts and I swallow hard. It is something I'd like to know myself as well. Something I've been trying to figure out during the past months. I mean, I have been aware of my…well…interest towards him for a long time now, but until last December, nothing had happened between us. I just…I just feel like I, like I want to be with him. But does he want it too? And Merlin, I can't even think about these things without feeling my skin flush with embarrassment, so how the bloody hell I'm supposed to say it to him?
"Hm?" He asks, clutching my hand to grab my attention.
I nervously lick my lips as my eyes move between his, opting to take the easy way out. "I'm, er…what do you want?" I stammer, watching him in anticipation.
Regulus's lips twitch slightly, evidently knowing that I don't want to be the first one to lay my cards on the table. There's a long silence, before he speaks. "I want to be sure of you. Of your intentions, what you want and why you want it," he says slowly, his eyes watching me closely.
"I want to be with you," I blurt out, and even though there's blood pounding in my ears, I don't miss the soft, relieved breath that he lets out.
Regulus smirks at me. "What does that even mean?" He asks, sounding amused, while his thumb traces my knuckles, making my skin tingle.
A grin starts to spread across my face. "Don't know, actually. I'm not exactly good at relationships," I say with a small grimace.
His eyes darken slightly. "Oh? So that's what it means? A relationship?" He murmurs with a low voice and leans closer to me, his eyes flashing with glee, his mouth curved up slightly.
I can feel my pulse quickening and anticipation coursing through me as his eyes drop down to my lips. He's definitely good at this...
"Shut up," I breathe, right before his lips find mine and press against them.