Chapter 34: Don't Forget About Me
Grimmauld Place, August 4th 1997
"Bloody hell, that hurt!" Ronald yells and gives Potter a mild glare.
Hermione winces next to me as Potter quips back to his friend something about it hurting much more when receiving one from the end of the Dark Lord's wand. Potter's using his name and everything, a defiant look on his face, as if to challenge us to reprimand him for it.
I suppress the irritation Potter's behaviour rouses, reminding myself that he is young, and…that he might be entitled to his anger.
Before we retreated to the library, there was something rather unpleasant to be found in the morning paper during our breakfast.
Potter is wanted for questioning about Albus Dumbledore's death.
It seems that the Dark Lord taking over the Ministry and the Daily Prophet has gone smoothly and silently, until today. The Ministry has announced several matters in todays' paper; a new Minister, Pius Thicknesse, is replacing the recently 'resigned' Scrimgeour. Naturally Scrimgeour's death goes unmentioned.
This is quite what we had speculated – a new Minister under the Dark Lord's control, avoiding an uprising amongst the wizarding community by not publicly declaring to seize the Ministry.
There is also an investigation against Muggle-born wizards and witches, and for that purpose, a Muggle-born Register has been created, to keep track of them, to be interviewed by the Ministry. Which is undoubtedly a polite way of saying that these Muggle-borns will be convicted as criminals and sent to Azkaban.
Attendance to Hogwarts has been made mandatory for every young witch and wizard, evidently to control the magical population as well as to capture the Muggle-borns.
Needless to say, the announcements were not disregarded, or taken easily amongst us. Potter especially was greatly affected by them, immediately letting his anger and short temper get the best of him.
It wasn't until Ronald had suggested – after learning the day before, that my brother and I used to do so – a practice duel in order to dissolve some of the rage, that Potter had somewhat composed himself.
Hermione lets out a weary sigh, her eyes flickering to the Prophet's page that is opened on the coffee table, the announcement about the Muggle-born Register on display. "How is this happening…?" She whispers, shaking her head slightly. "How could people let it happen?" She says in disbelief, her eyes moving to mine, a lost look in her eyes.
I lick my lips absently, thinking it over. "People are afraid. It is a rather intelligent plan," I say, and the frown deepens on her face.
Silence falls between us, and soon both of us follow Potter's and Ronald's practice more or less absentmindedly. The library is full of bright jets of light bursting from their wands – definitely a slower and calmer pace than I had initially thought it would be – while the occasional grunts and a rumble of swear words fill the silence.
Only a handful of their spells zoom towards our direction to the seating area, but it doesn't matter, as they do not pass the protective enchantments, we have established surrounding their duel.
After the duelling practice, and after lunch, Regulus and Ron start to inspect Ron's Deluminator in the kitchen, and eventually, I make my excuses and head to the porch in the back garden. I need some peace and quiet, to think. To try to figure out a way – something – to stop Voldemort faster. To think of a way to find his Horcruxes and destroy them before he becomes powerful enough to be unstoppable.
I stare blankly at the heavy fog, my mind in a distant place. Everything that's happening, it's…it's making me furious, and at the same time…it makes me feel incompetent. Everything Voldemort does – it makes me sick with worry and fear. After Dumbledore's death, it seems that everything has become so easy to him. Taking over the Ministry, weeding out the Muggle-borns. Delivering fear and uncertainty. Breaking the Order into small pieces, making it impossible to stand against him.
And I know it's only the beginning.
"Harry?" Hermione says quietly as she steps outside, interrupting my contemplation.
I glance at her as she walks up to me and sits down on the porch, next to me. She stares ahead, looking worried, chewing the inside of her cheek. I wait silently, knowing she wants to speak about something. I wonder, if she's having second thoughts…?
I wonder if she's already reconsidering the mission she has stepped into. There is a price on my head, after all, something that's putting her in even more danger than she necessarily is. She could leave the country, let the rest of us handle the situation. She could go to her parents, to Australia. I doubt Voldemort would be interested to seek out the Muggle-borns from there.
She lets out a weary sigh. "We'll figure it out," she says then, nodding to herself more than to me, before turning towards me. "We'll stop him, and fix everything," she says slowly.
I grunt softly. We can try…but it's very much a needle in a haystack situation that we're dealing with.
I rub the crick in my neck, trying to suppress the pressing feeling of powerlessness and the need to do something about the situation. Maybe we will…but it could take months to investigate Voldemort's past and try to find if there is someone who knew anything useful, anything that could even hint towards the unidentified Horcrux, or where the rest of them are located. It could take years. And even then, it's unlikely that we'd find anything.
And how many lives are lost before we do?
It would be easier to ask Voldemort himself where he's hidden them. The mere thought makes a dry chuckle escape from my throat. Hermione lifts her brows at me, a question in her eyes.
"Never mind…" I mutter, drawing my knees up and resting my chin against them. "They still at it?" I ask, glancing at the closed door.
She looks frazzled, has been like that since we left Hogwarts, and there's a constant small frown edged between her brows, something that has intensified after the morning's news.
But now, her expression softens, and she merely rolls her eyes, her mouth twitching slightly. "I saw it best to leave them be. Ronald insists that Dumbledore had wanted him to use the device to something, and, well…he seems to be taking Regulus's words and opinions to heart," she says and there's a small purse on her lips, before her eyes widen a bit. "Not that I'd think he's not magically advanced, I'm just…" She trails off, looking hesitant.
"…You feel replaced?" I ask, a hint of a smile curving my lips.
Hermione shakes her head and lets out a small laugh. "Perhaps. I'm being daft, aren't I?" She then asks, grimacing at me.
I let out a quiet snort. "I bit," I tell her, and nudge her arm with my elbow. "You know we'd be a mess without you."
She gives me a small smile that fades away quickly. It's followed by a scrutinising look.
"What?" I ask cautiously.
Hermione's eyes trail over my features before she speaks slowly, as if selecting her words carefully. "Did…did you and Regulus talk about the…connection and…what happened after your vision?"
I let out an irritated huff and look away. As the subject is not something I want to delve in, then, no, we didn't. Not beyond the words we exchanged in the library, when Regulus came to apologise.
After that, there hasn't been much of a discussion just between the two of us. For the past two nights, we've merely slept next to each other. At nights; both of us too tired and tense to even think of opening up a discussion. And in the mornings; Regulus has been long gone when I've woken up. I know that we need to talk – we have many things to talk about - but there's just too many other, more important matters to consider before that.
And it's not that I'm mad at Regulus about it, what he did…not anymore. I'm mad that there is a connection between Voldemort and me, and that there's nothing I can do to make it go away. I'm mad that there's something…something that Voldemort put in me, when he cursed me all those years ago. Something that makes us connected. Something that makes me feel like I'm endangering the others. I hate it. It makes me feel…contaminated. It makes me feel like I'm an outcast.
"No." I grunt in reply and watch as the fog thickens, before it starts to rain. "He apologised. Dunno if there's anything to be discussed anymore. Vo – I mean, you-know-who," I say and give her an exasperated eyeroll, "has a way to open the connection, and there's nothing I can do about it," I say wearily.
Hermione hums in thought. "What about Occlumency? Have you tried to – "
I let out a deep sigh, cutting her sentence short. "I don't see how it helps anything. After the lessons with –" and I have to grit my teeth and suppress all the anger and hate that surges inside me when I think about Snape, "– I think my mind was even more vulnerable after those lessons. So…no."
Hermione nods slowly, watching me with a look that tells me she knows exactly what I'm thinking. "You could just try to close your mind without anyone trying to break into it," She says shrewdly. "Maybe…maybe there are better ways to practice it than what you learned from…um…Snape," She says with a grimace. "And…you could ask Regulus to help you with it?" She asks carefully, and then quickly continues, "without entering your mind."
I could do it…it just didn't seem to help at all before. But maybe Hermione has a point. Maybe there's another way to practice it…or something. I take off my glasses and rub the bridge of my nose. "I suppose it can't hurt…" I mutter and see a wide smile on her lips as soon as I have my vision back.
There's a long, comfortable silence, during which both of us stare emptily at the pouring rain.
"…He seems quite…accomplished." Hermione mutters, still staring ahead, as if partly talking to herself.
I give her a questioning look, and when Hermione glances at me, she clarifies, "Regulus, I mean. Did you know he can cast spells without a wand?"
I give her a nod. "Yeah. He said simple spells are easier to cast and maintain than the more complicated ones…" I say, the memory of that one day spent in the drawing room, filled with smiles and laughter, popping into the forefront of my mind. "…I think he went through half of our first year spellbook once," I continue, and chuckle. "It was brilliant."
It was a good day. But…everything seems to have changed after that. There wasn't a looming darkness over our heads that day, and the day wasn't filled with anxiety and occasional hopelessness. That day, I had a plan, and I had Dumbledore.
"Oh?" Hermione asks, giving me a scrutinising look. "Did he teach you?" She asks gently.
My depressing thoughts dissolve and I let out a small snort. "He couldn't, even if he wanted…Don't really have the patience for it," I say and give her a small smirk.
Hermione lets out a small laugh. "I'm sure you would, Harry. You are a brilliant wizard, you have to know that."
And wow, does her words struck something inside me, something that makes me feel rather overwhelmed. "Thank you," I mumble, feeling my cheeks warming up. "But I'm nothing without you guys."
Hermione shakes her head slightly, a small smile on her lips. I know she disagrees, but at the same time, maybe she knows that I'm right. That we're stronger together.
"We should go inside," I say and stretch my legs before standing up and holding out a hand for Hermione. "Maybe they've found something…"
Hermione looks doubtful but nods and takes my hand as she stands up.
"You should talk to him," she says as we step inside the house, her voice quiet, trying not to disturb the portrait of Mrs. Black. "Even if we are trying to find a way to destroy you-know-who, to fight against him, that doesn't mean you cannot have anything else…" Hermione continues and gives me a hesitant look. "…It sounded like you were happy that day."
I swallow, knowing she's talking about the day I made Regulus show me wandless magic. And I was.
"Yeah, I know. I'm…" I mutter, my voice trailing off as a dark figure moves in the hallway.
"Shit!" I shout and pull out my wand quickly, but before I can cast a curse or a protective spell, the figure moves into the light, hands in the air, in a sign of surrender. It's Lupin.
"Harry, wait!" Lupin says hastily. "It's me!"
Walburga Black's portrait starts to scream but I don't pay attention to it, and instead, I keep my wand steady, a curse on the tip of my tongue. "Prove it." I say, and notice that Hermione has taken a similar kind of stance next to me, her wand at the ready.
There're running footsteps coming from the kitchen, and then Regulus and Ron emerge to the hallway.
"What the bloody hell is happening?" Ron asks, his wand at the ready, but his grip relaxing as soon as he sees Lupin.
Regulus merely assesses the situation and then stares at Lupin. Why is he not drawing out his wand?
"I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag," Lupin says hurriedly, and then glances at Regulus, who looks more amused than anything. "And it would be quite impossible for me to be anyone else since I am not the secret keeper of this home," Lupin continues, lifting up a brow at Regulus.
I lower my wand, realising just then that Regulus would've done something if he had thought there was a danger. I give Lupin a sheepish grin. "I had to ask, just in case."
Regulus flicks his wand to his mother's portrait, silencing the screams, as Lupin speaks. "Speaking as your ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I quite agree that you had to check. Ron, Regulus - you shouldn't be so quick to lower your defences," he says, and aims a small grin to Regulus.
Regulus stares back with a deadpan expression, before he clears his throat and nods at Lupin. "Good to see you."
"Likewise," Lupin says, looking tired but smiling all the same.
"What's going on? Is everyone okay?" I quickly ask, stepping closer to shake Lupin's hand.
Hermione greets Lupin with a quick hug and while Ron gives the man a wide grin and a nod.
"Everyone's okay. Can we go to the kitchen?" Lupin asks, "We've got some things to discuss."
As soon as we take our seats at the kitchen table; Hermione, Ron and I sitting opposite to Lupin and Regulus, Lupin starts to explain the events from the past days.
"We're all being watched – you too, if you've noticed a couple of Death Eaters in the square outside – "
"Yes, we know," Ron says quickly, urging Lupin to continue.
" – I had to Apparate very precisely onto the top step outside the front door to be sure that they would not see me."
Regulus summons Kreacher and asks it to prepare us sandwiches and tea, while Lupin continues his story.
"I'd have been here two days ago but I needed to shake off the Death Eater tailing me," Lupin says. "So, you came straight here after the wedding?"
"Yes," I tell him. "As soon as the Death Eaters arrived. Nothing much happened after that, besides the two Death Eaters patrolling the streets."
Lupin nods, looking relieved.
"We were wondering, how did they know to look for Harry from here…?" Ron asks, giving Lupin a tentative look. "I mean, could they track him somehow?" Ron says, leaving out the discussion we had about tracking Voldemort's name, and the words Rowle had said to his master.
Lupin gives a small frown. "They can't know you're in here or I'm sure they'd have more people out there; they're staking out everywhere that's got any connection with Harry." Lupin says, his eyes flickering at me.
I don't miss the knowing look Hermione gives to Ron, as if telling him 'I told you so'.
"Tell us what happened after we left, we haven't heard a thing since Ron's dad told us the family was safe," I say to Lupin, and both Ron and Hermione fix their attention to him as well.
"Well, I think it would've been a lot worse if Kingsley hadn't saved us," Lupin says tiredly. "Thanks to his warning, most of the wedding guests were able to Disapparate before they arrived."
"Were they Death Eaters or Ministry people?" Hermione asks quietly.
Lupin gives her a mirthless smile. "There isn't much of a difference any more. It was a mixture of both. There were about a dozen of them, but it seems that they are still unaware of Regulus's existence, and were merely hoping to find Harry there," Lupin says, and glances first at Regulus and then fixes his gaze at me. "Arthur heard a rumour that they tried to torture your whereabouts out of Scrimgeour before they killed him; if it's true, he didn't give you away."
My brows lift in surprise, and I look around me. Both Ron and Hermione look as baffled as I feel, and even Regulus's brows are drawn into a small frown. Needless to say, none of us had expected that from the previous Minister, and instead, quite the opposite. I feel shocked, but grateful. The man's last act had been done to protect me.
"The Death Eaters searched the Burrow from top to bottom," Lupin continues, after swallowing an enormous bite from his sandwich. "They interrogated those of us who remained for hours. They were trying to get information on you, Harry, but of course nobody apart from the Order knew that you had been there. At the same time that they were smashing up the wedding, more Death Eaters were forcing their way into every Order-connected house in the country. No deaths," Lupin adds quickly, when he sees our alarmed expressions, "but they were rough. They burned down Dedalus Diggle's house, but as you know, he wasn't there," Lupin says, and then his eyes flicker to Regulus.
"…And they, uh, used the Cruciatus Curse on Tonks's family," Lupin says with a careful tone in his voice, and as he sees how Regulus's eyes darken, he quickly continues, "They're all right – shaken, obviously, but otherwise okay."
Regulus's face remains expressionless, but his eyes are storming with rage. He stiffly makes his excuses, and leaves the kitchen. I'm almost on my feet, something inside me making me move, making me compelled to follow him, when Lupin interrupts me.
"Let him go. He's probably only going to make sure his cousin is actually alright," Lupin says with a small smile on his lips as he glances at the kitchen door.
I frown at the table and resume my place. I didn't know Regulus was even close to Andromeda, but then, I don't really have a healthy cousin-relationship myself to know what is a normal amount of worry between cousins.
I wonder if Regulus has some form of connection to his cousin, other than the floo? At least, we have closed the floo-network in this house since there's too much of a risk of Ministry gaining access here through it.
Lupin watches us carefully for a moment before he speaks. "I trust you have read this morning's paper?" He asks, his eyes searching mine.
I let out a frustrated huff. "You mean, read, how I'm now suspected of Dumbledore's murder?"
A soft smile takes over Lupin's features. "You know it is merely an excuse to allow the Death Eaters question people of your whereabouts."
Yeah, I realised that. But still, it makes rage surge inside me. I know what happened in the tower that night. I know who killed him. The thought that someone would believe what is written in the Prophet, makes me want to scream and throw things.
"The Death Eaters have got the full might of the Ministry on their side now," Lupin says. "They've got the power to perform brutal spells without fear of identification or arrest. They managed to penetrate every defensive spell we'd cast against them, and once inside, they were completely open about why they'd come."
"Why didn't You-know-who declare himself Minister of Magic?" Ron asks.
Lupin takes a sip of his tea before he answers. "He doesn't need to. Effectively, he is the Minister, but why should he sit behind a desk at the Ministry? His puppet, Thicknesse, is taking care of everyday business, leaving Voldemort free to extend his power beyond the Ministry."
Ron cringes at the name.
"Naturally, many people have deduced what has happened: There has been such a dramatic change in the Ministry policy in the last few days, and many are whispering that Voldemort must be behind it. However, that is the point: They whisper. They daren't confide in each other, not knowing whom to trust; they are scared to speak out, in case their suspicions are true and their families are targeted. Yes, Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion: Remaining masked has created confusion, uncertainty, and fear."
So…like we speculated then.
"…And now that Dumbledore is dead, you, Harry – the Boy Who Lived – were sure to be the symbol and rallying point for any resistance to Voldemort," Lupin explains and gives me a weary smile, "But by suggesting that you had a hand in his death, Voldemort has not only set a price upon your head, but sown doubt and fear amongst many who would have defended you."
There's a long silence between us.
"And then, the icing on the cake; the Muggle-born Register."
Hermione's expression hardens.
"People won't let it happen," Ron says heatedly.
Lupin lets out a sigh. "It is happening, Ron. Muggle-borns are being rounded up as we speak."
Ron shakes his head with an incredulous expression on his features. "But how are they supposed to have 'stolen' magic? It's mental, if you could steal magic, there wouldn't be any Squibs, would there?"
"I know," Lupin says, his fingers tracing the edge of his cup, a small frown between his brows. "Nevertheless, unless you can prove that you have at least one close Wizarding relative, you are now deemed to have obtained your magical power illegally and must suffer the punishment."
Ron looks outraged. "But that's rubbish!"
Hermione places a hand over his on the table. "We know that. And I think – I hope – that most of the wizarding people know that too." She says with a strained smile.
Lupin nods in agreement, before he fixes me a scrutinising look. "Harry, I…I'll understand if you can't confirm this, but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission."
"He did," I say slowly, having an inkling of what he's about to ask.
"Can you confide in me what the mission is?" Lupin asks, his expression serious, but his voice hesitant.
I watch him back for a long moment, hoping that I could tell him everything, but knowing that I can't. It is a risk that we cannot take. Too many people know already. "I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can."
Lupin gives me a disappointed look. "I thought you'd say that. But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to."
I feel tempted by his offer…Maybe we could use him, to take his offer and let him help. And maybe it could be possible to do so without letting him know about our mission. My speculation is interrupted by Hermione's bewildered look and confused tone of voice.
"But what about Tonks?" she asks.
"What about her?" Lupin counters, sounding…too distant, for some reason.
"Well," Hermione continues, "you're married! How does she feel about you going away with us?"
Lupin averts his gaze and stares at the table aloofly. "Tonks will be perfectly safe. She'll be at her parents' house."
"What?" I ask, feeling more baffled by the minute. "Why would she stay there?"
Tonks is an Auror, isn't she? Why would she go into hiding when there's a fight to be fought? When her husband is there in the midst of it as well?
"Remus," Hermione says with a careful voice, "is everything all right…you know…between you and – "
"Everything is fine, thank you," Lupin says sharply, interrupting her.
Hermione blushes, while Ron's brows lift up and I too give Lupin an incredulous look.
Lupin lets out an exasperated sigh and looks like he's swallowed something bitter. "Tonks is going to have a baby."
What? Well, that was something unexpected!
"Oh, how wonderful!" Hermione squeals suddenly, undoubtedly as dumbstruck as I feel.
"Excellent!" Ron follows, a wide grin on his face.
"Yeah. Wow. Congratulations, Remus!" I say, smiling brightly at the man.
Lupin on the other hand…doesn't look that excited by the fact that he's going to be a father. Instead, he brushes it off with a tight smile and continues the previous topic, "So…do you accept my offer? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined."
Ron and Hermione both give me a confused look.
What the hell?
"Just – just to be clear," I say, feeling stunned. "You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?"
"She'll be perfectly safe there; they'll look after her. Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you." Lupin says, speaking with such indifference that I almost can't believe what I'm hearing.
Is this truly the same man who taught me once, not only to protect myself, but helping me become my best self? …And now, he's abandoning his own kid, exchanging his family for a chance of an adventure?
"Well," I reply slowly, "I'm not. I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually."
Lupin's eyes widen with hurt and surprise, as if I've slapped him.
From the corner of my eye I notice both Ron and Hermione suddenly sitting tensely, watching the situation with shocked expressions.
Lupin swallows hard. "You don't understand."
"Explain, then," I say sharply.
Lupin watches me for a long moment, before he rubs the bridge of his nose and starts to speak. "I – I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and have regretted it very much ever since."
What the bloody hell?
I let out a frustrated huff. "So – so, you're just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?"
Lupin suddenly jumps on his feet, glaring at us with such anger that for the first time, I realise exactly what is inside him – the wolf. "Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her! I've made her an outcast!" Lupin yells, his eyes glinting with fury, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
"You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts! You don't know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don't you see what I've done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child – the child – " Lupin yells – gasps – his hands gripping his hair, a hysterical look in his eyes.
"My kind don't usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it – how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!"
"Remus!" Hermione gasps in shock, her eyes glistening with tears. "Don't say that – how could any child be ashamed of you?"
I shake my head slowly as I clench my jaw, feeling overwhelmed, feeling enraged, feeling so, so, so fucking angry. "Oh, I don't know, Hermione," I say to her, my voice shaking as I try to not scream at the man in front of me. "I'd be pretty ashamed of him."
I stand up and step closer to Lupin, who looks like I've said something unforgivable. Something extremely hurtful. And maybe I have. But I don't care. I cannot care, because what I'm hearing…it cannot fucking be what I'm hearing. Not from him.
"If the new regime thinks Muggle-borns are bad," I continue, glaring up at Lupin, "what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father's in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he'd tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?"
Lupin lets out an outraged scoff. "How – how dare you? This is not about a desire for – for danger or personal glory – how dare you suggest such a – "
"What the hell is happening in here?" Regulus loud voice cuts through him.
There's a tense silence, during which both Lupin and I glare at each other, panting with rage, seething at the other.
Regulus closes the kitchen door and walks closer to us. "I asked, what is happening in here?" He asks with a cold and sharp voice.
As I calm down, I realise I might've gone too far. My thoughts are confirmed when Lupin's expression turns sad and hopeless.
Hermione clears her throat. "Um…we, um…learned that Remus and Tonks are going to have a baby," She says, trying to sound enthusiastic but failing miserably. "…And, um…there was a…misunderstanding…"
Lupin gives me a long look, filled with disappointment and hurt before he nods to himself. "I should go," he mutters, turning towards the door, towards Regulus.
"A word, Lupin? Before you go." Regulus says flatly, and then steps towards the door, waiting Lupin to follow him towards upstairs.
Lupin doesn't say anything, and merely walks quickly through the door, followed by Regulus, who throws us a threatening look, wordlessly telling us to stay put.
When the door is closed, I let out a shaky breath and walk back to the table, slumping down opposite to Hermione and Ron, feeling as if there's a heavy force pressing my shoulders.
"Mate…" Ron mutters after a moment.
I shake my head and stare at the table. "I don't want to hear it," I whisper, feeling too overwhelmed, too guilty, too…weighed down. My mother's screams fill my head, as well as the thought of my father and my mother both desperately trying to protect me, until their last breath.
"I know. But…you shouldn't have said that stuff to him." Ron says back.
I swallow down a frustrated scream and instead take in a calming breath. "He had it coming." I say roughly. "Parents…shouldn't leave their kids unless – unless they've got to."
Hermione lets out a small sigh and reaches to grab my hand across the table, in a soothing manner. I pull my hand away, feeling a sudden urge to be left alone.
"I'm…I'll be upstairs," I tell my friends and leave the kitchen before they have a chance to say anything back.
I walk through the empty hallway, heading straight towards the stairs, going up without stopping to listen if Regulus and Lupin are still somewhere having a chat.
Finally, I reach the topmost level and enter Sirius's room. I close the door quickly, and then walk across the room to the pictures – the photographs on his wall. I have my own stack somewhere in the midst of my belongings, but I'm not really in a mood to try to find them. This is fine.
These are more than enough; the one with my father and Sirius in their school robes, looking carefree as they grin at the camera. The one with the Marauders, all chuckling merrily. The one that quickly became my favourite; photograph of Sirius and my mum – something I had originally missed but then found later, when I stayed the night here some months ago – where the two of them are standing in the crowded Great Hall, in mid-laugh, wearing dress robes and holding onto what possibly are their Hogwarts diplomas.
My mother and my father. Sirius. It's everything I need right now.
After what must be at least an hour, the door to Sirius's room opens. I'm sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of Sirius's bed, having gone over the argument with Lupin in my head at least a dozen times. I don't regret what I said. But I regret how I said it. I didn't want to hurt him.
Regulus slips into the room, walks across it and sits down on the floor next to me.
"Did you come here to reprimand me?" I mutter half-jokingly, staring straight ahead.
Regulus stays quiet for a moment before he replies. "No. You are old enough to take responsibility for your actions."
Brilliant. That really helped. I tell him so, and Regulus lets out an amused huff.
"Lupin left. Back to my cousin," he says then, fixing me a searching look.
I look back at him, still feeling guilty. "I shouldn't have said those things to him…but…if that's what brought him back to Tonks, then…I'm glad," I say hesitantly.
Regulus nods slowly. "We'll see." He says simply.
I wonder what Regulus said to Lupin? What did they talk about?
"Why are you here?" Regulus asks, a hint of curiousness in his voice.
I give him a mild shrug. "Dunno. Just…wanted to be alone for a while, I guess," I mutter, glancing at the photographs, decidedly not thinking of how only thirty minutes ago I was standing before the wall, breathing through the ache and longing in my chest and blinking through the blurriness in my eyes.
Regulus's eyes follow mine and he stares at the moving pictures. "He's not abandoning his child, Harry," He says quietly and then gives me a meaningful look, "He's scared. He thinks he's putting his family in danger."
I let out a small scoff. "That's – that's ridiculous."
Regulus hums in agreement and then arches a brow at me. "If only I'd know of whom he resembles."
I frown at him, but it comes to me a second later. Yeah, me, probably. How I thought, and still occasionally think, that I'm the one who's putting those close to me in danger, because of the connection between me and Voldemort.
"Yeah. Well. It's different," I mumble, and look away.
There's a short silence. "How is that different?" Regulus asks plainly.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye, and find him staring at me, expressionless as ever. I let out a sigh and pluck invisible lint from my shirt. "Well, firstly, I doubt his son is going to be anything other than a human. After writing an absurdly long essay for Snape about werewolves, I'm quite sure they can only infect humans in their wolfish form, during full moon, by biting them…"
I don't miss the way Regulus's expression darkens by the mention of one murderous Professor.
"…And secondly…setting aside that one day in each month; his mind is purely his own. Not contaminated by anyone, not available for someone to use it as they please," I say bitterly.
Regulus is silent for a while. "I know what I did was wrong. I should have asked for your consent, but I couldn't take the risk," He says gravely, "You see into his mind, Harry. You feel what he feels, you see what he sees. And it…" Regulus lets out a frustrated sigh. "…It fucking terrifies me."
He levels me a strained look, mixed with remorse and alarm. I blink back at him, then swallow thickly.
"I'm not angry about it, not to you. I mean, I was," I correct, when I see Regulus lifting his brows, "but I know why you did it. And I know that…that if he had been there, seeing what I'm seeing, hearing what I'm hearing…we wouldn't stand a chance against him…" I say, and then I take in a deep breath, knowing that I need to speak about it with him.
"…I hate it." I continue quietly, my gaze trained at my hands on my lap. "I hate that I'm connected to him. I hate that there is even a possibility that I'm putting my friends in danger. It makes me feel…dirty somehow…like someone who's unwanted, and completely unlike anyone else in the world."
Regulus's hand slips through mine, his palm upwards, while he keeps his gaze trained at the wall of the pictures. "I know how you feel."
I stare at his arm – his left forearm, partly hidden under my arm, covered by the sleeve of his robe, but I know it is still there. The link to Voldemort. The Mark.
And I realise how much I've missed this. Talking to him. Feeling him.
"Can I ask you something?" I ask, watching him carefully.
Regulus glances at me from the corner of his eye. "Yes."
I clear my throat. "Is there…you know…a way to practice Occlumency that wouldn't include anyone breaking into my mind…?" I ask with a tentative voice.
Regulus gives me a thoughtful look. "There might be," he says slowly.
"Okay. Could you, um, could you teach me?" I ask, scrunching up my eyes as I give him a small grin.
Regulus's lips twitch with amusement. "I thought you said, and I quote; 'I'm bloody awful at it'?"
I let out a small snort. "You forget the part of my rubbish teacher. I mean, maybe this one'll know what he's doing," I say lightly, giving him a small nudge.
I detect a small amount of colour on top of his cheeks, as Regulus shakes his head with mild exasperation. I can't stop the grin spreading my face.
"Come on, I'll try my best." I say to him, my face serious.
Regulus gives me a smirk. "I'll hold you to it."
After a long silence, I tell Regulus about my childhood. What happened at the Dursleys. How I lived in a cupboard, under the stairs, how they didn't allow me to ask about my parents, how they later on despised me even more when I got my letter. How miserable I was, every single time I went there. And I tell him why I needed to go there, until I was seventeen. I tell him how thrilled I had been when I had found Sirius. When for a small moment, I thought I'd get to leave the Dursleys, and stay with my godfather.
But now, none of it matters. Sirius is not here, and I doubt that I'll be seeing the Dursleys anymore.
Regulus watches me silently until I've finished, and we're left staring at each other in the darkness that has fallen outside. His eyes move over mine, before he speaks. "Thank you for telling me."
I smile at him in reply.
"So…what now?" I ask, not feeling tired yet – it must be still early in the night. "Research?"
Regulus gives me a wry smile. "Research."