Kidnapping In The Child's Best Interest
Regulus Black was not expecting to wake up alive.
He came to with a gasp of breath that grated against his dry throat, and he sucked in lungfuls of air. The last thing he remembered was water rushing into his lungs, claws digging into his skin, his ears popping as he was pulled too fast, too far, too deep into the lake. He had watched the surface grow more distant until it was too dark to see at all.
He’d known he was going to die. So why was he awake? Why was he breathing? Why was he alive?
“Master Regulus!” A familiar voice cried, and he turned his head, too weak to sit up. His whole body was heavy as lead, exhaustion penetrating deep into his bones.
Kreacher appeared at his side. He looked a little worse for wear and had a couple scratches on his arms, but he was alive and mostly unharmed. He looked relieved but also… guilty? He couldn’t meet Regulus’s eyes, and he shifted uneasily from foot to foot. Regulus recognized it as the body posture he always had when he was expecting a punishment.
In that moment, Regulus realized what happened. Regulus couldn’t have gotten out of the lake by himself; the Inferi were too strong and numerous, and he was weak from the potion and lack of air. No one could’ve come to rescue him because no one knew his plan; no one knew where he was.
So that only left Kreacher.
“You disobeyed my orders,” Regulus rasped. He winced as the words slashed his throat like invisible knives. He really needed some water, but there were other matters to attend to first. Like the Horcrux.
Kreacher looked at the ground and tensed, bracing himself.
“Yes, Master Regulus,” Kreacher answered.
Kreacher had done the impossible. No House Elf had ever gone against a direct order, not that Regulus knew of. But Kreacher had fought every instinct in his body to obey in order to save Regulus. Regulus was alive because of him.
Regulus wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he supposed he should say…
“Thank you.”
Kreacher looked up, the smallest light of hope in his eyes.
“But… Kreacher disobeyed. Kreacher is a bad elf, a bad elf!” Kreacher started to hit his tiny fists against his head.
“Kreacher, stop!” Regulus ordered, and Kreacher immediately did. So the bond hadn’t been broken completely by Kreacher’s unexpected disobedience.
“Kreacher, you’re not a bad elf. You saved me,” Regulus stressed.
“But Kreacher disobeyed. Master Regulus said that Kreacher was to let him die, and Kreacher didn’t,” Kreacher said, baffled by Regulus’s forgiveness.
Regulus sighed. “I was taking the coward’s way out. I was running away like I always do. At least now I can finish what I started. Where’s the Horcrux?”
Kreacher disappeared for a moment and returned with the locket in his hands. He whimpered as he held it delicately, like one would hold a bomb. Regulus grabbed the locket by the chain and held it up to the light.
The minute his skin touched it, he could feel the dark magic writhing inside the locket. Like being able to sense something watching you in the dark. The locket felt hot, like there was a fire burning inside, and Regulus hurriedly dropped it onto the bed covers before it could burn him.
The locket was protecting itself. The idea that the locket was alive, had a piece of a living soul inside, made him sick. The locket could’ve been watching him for all he knew, gaging his reaction.
“We need to destroy it,” Regulus said.
“Kreacher has tried,” Kreacher stated. “Incendio, diffindo, destruam, confrigo, nothing worked.”
“There’s gotta be away,” Regulus said. Something occurred to him. If Kreacher had already tried to destroy the locket multiple times… “How long have I been unconscious?”
“13 days,” Kreacher answered.
Regulus’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That long?”
Kreacher nodded.
Regulus looked around for the first time and noticed he wasn’t in his own room. The curtains and bedspread were red and gold. The room was a mess with clothes strewn everywhere. Dust was collecting on every surface. Above the bed, four familiar faces stared down at him from a photograph stuck to the wall with a permanent Sticking Charm.
“Kreacher, why are we in Sirius’s room?” Regulus wondered.
“It was the only place Mistress would not look,” Kreacher answered. “Master Regulus is suspected to have betrayed the Dark Lord. If anyone found Master Regulus…” Kreacher didn’t need to finish.
“What does anyone know of my… death?” Regulus said, unsure of how else to word it. By all accounts, he should be dead. But Regulus hadn’t accounted for Kreacher; like most wizards, Regulus had underestimated a House Elf.
“Master Regulus is pronounced Missing,” Kreacher said. “Presumed dead as of three days ago.”
“So Barty, Evan, Pandora…” Regulus said.
“Haven’t given up hope,” Kreacher replied. “They’ve visited often in hopes you’d return. Kreacher wasn’t sure what Master Regulus would want Kreacher to tell them, so Kreacher told them nothing.”
Regulus nodded. It pained him to have his friends think he was dead. A dagger thrust into his chest and twisted at the thought of them grieving for him. They’d all been prepared to lose each other, but… preparing for it and going through it were two different things.
“You did good, Kreacher,” Regulus said. “It’s better Barty and Evan don’t know. They’re too close to the Dark Lord.”
It wasn’t that Regulus thought they would rat him out, but the Dark Lord did routine Legilimens checks. Barty and Evan weren’t exempt from those. All it would take is one slip up for Regulus’s whole plan to be revealed.
But Pandora… chances are, Pandora would figure out Regulus was alive on her own sooner or later. Regulus and Pandora had Soul Bonded in fourth year after Pandora had a particularly bad vision of Regulus drowning.
… Well, that vision made sense now.
Pandora had insisted on the Soul Bond so she could always know Regulus was alive. If the Bond was broken, the other would feel it. Pandora hadn’t felt that yet because Regulus was alive, so she would have to know he was alive.
And that put her in grave danger. If the Dark Lord found out about Regulus going after the Horcrux, the Dark Lord would immediately go after Regulus’s friends. The less his friends knew, the better. Pandora would be in the position of greatest danger with the Soul Bond because it could confirm Regulus was alive, and with the right spells, could even lead her to Regulus’s location. Regulus was surprised she hadn’t tried that yet but figured she wasn’t desperate enough for it yet. As long as Regulus was alive, she could assume he had a reason for hiding. Until she got desperate to find her friend.
Regulus knew what he had to do, but… he hated it. It physically pained him, and he hadn’t even cast the spell yet.
“Kreacher, go to my room and find the book on Soul Bonds on my bookshelf. Bring it to me,” Regulus said.
Kreacher nodded and Apparated away. A minute later, he reappeared with a book in his hands.
Regulus took the book and scanned the table of contents, then flipped the book to the right page.
How To Break A Soul Bond
Regulus skimmed the page and took a deep breath, bracing himself for the pain. He held his hand out, and Kreacher handed him his wand. Regulus pointed it at his chest.
“Anima vinculum confractus.”
Regulus bit his lip to keep from screaming as he felt like he’d been punched in the chest. Something pulled and stretched and then broke like a string. Fire lanced through his chest, burning any trace of the soul bond.
Miles away, Pandora Lovegood dropped to her knees and screamed.
Regulus allowed a tear to drip down his face as he lowered his wand.
It was done.
November 1981
Regulus, still in his pajamas, grabbed a coffee mug from the cabinet and poured coffee from the pot into the mug. He drank it black, too tired to bother with cream or sugar.
“Hoot hoot!” His owl, Artemis, chimed in from where she had landed on the window sill. She held his newspaper in her beak.
“Thank you, Artemis,” Regulus said with a soft smile as he gently petted her. He took the newspaper from her and sat at the table to read.
Two years ago, Regulus had moved into a flat in Muggle London after severing his bond to the family. It was the only way the tapestry would pronounce him dead. With that, Grimmauld Place would not accept him within its walls without the express permission of a member of House Black. Which meant, Muggle London. Also, who would look for a supposed pureblood supremest Muggle hater in Muggle London?
Regulus almost dropped the newspaper when he saw the headline.
James and Lily Potter Dead!
Regulus read through the newspaper quickly. James and Lily couldn’t be dead; they just couldn’t.
But they were. They’d both been killed by Voldemort. Their son, Harry Potter, had somehow survived the killing curse and been left alive. The newspaper called him The Boy Who Lived.
Regulus felt his heart break in two as he saw James and Lily stare up at him from the photograph. They were both smiling, and they held their son in their arms. The baby was babbling and giggling as James gently bounced him.
James… Lily…
Regulus kept reading, and the article only got more outrageous.
Sirius had been their Secret Keeper? Sirius had ratted out his best friend- his honorary brother- his other friend, and his godson? Regulus wasn’t buying it. Sirius would never betray James, and the Daily Prophet was known for publishing things before they got their facts straight.
In the photograph, Sirius looked the picture of a madman, his hair flying wildly in every direction and baring his teeth at the camera man like a wild animal. He was struggling against the Aurors, looking ready to bite whoever came near him.
Regulus skimmed down the page and found a small note on Harry’s whereabouts at the bottom.
Harry Potter has been left in the care of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, his aunt and uncle on his mother’s side.
The Dursleys? Lily would have rather died- bad choice of words- than let them anywhere near her son. Lily and Petunia didn’t get along, and Petunia would not care for Harry. Lily would’ve named anyone else Harry’s guardian before Petunia. Heck, Severus was probably higher on the list!
Lily had told him horror stories of Petunia Dursley, and Regulus loathed the idea of Harry staying there. Would they even tell him about Lily and James? Unlikely.
Regulus could not allow this to happen, but what could he do? He couldn’t exactly go to Dumbledore to bring up his concerns and expect the Headmaster to listen to a dead man. On top of that, Regulus knew Voldemort wasn’t dead; he hadn’t managed to destroy the Horcrux. It was a frustrating object; no spell Regulus cast even put a scratch on the locket, and if anything, it only made it angry, dark magic pulsating through it like a sickening heartbeat. If Regulus were to reveal himself as alive, it would paint a target on his back from the surviving Death Eaters that had managed to escape prison.
Could Regulus kill the Dursleys so Harry would end up with someone else, maybe Lupin? But no, that seemed cruel, even for Regulus. The Dursleys were horrible people, but they didn’t deserve to die… although that might be debatable. Either way, killing them would bring too much attention, and there was no guarantee Harry would end up with anyone better. There must’ve been a reason Lupin didn’t fight for custody, and most of James and Lily’s friends were dead, tortured into insanity, in prison, or Obliviated.
What to do, what to do…
This was the stupidest decision Regulus could’ve made, but he had no other options that he could see.
Sure, kidnapping the Boy Who Lived was a risky move and could go horribly wrong, but Regulus couldn’t leave Harry with those people. Besides, they probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone.
“Alohomora,” Regulus whispered, standing on the porch step in the dead of night with a pitch black cloak around his shoulders and a hood over his head. The lock clicked as it turned, and Regulus pushed the door open.
The house was dead silent, everyone asleep. If Regulus strained his ears, he could hear faint snoring coming from upstairs.
Where would Harry be?
Regulus cast a Silencing Spell on the stairs to silence any creaking of the steps, and he crept upstairs. He checked the first door- a linen closet. The second door- a playroom with toys scattered across the floor. The third door- Petunia and Vernon Dursley’s bedroom. They were both sleeping soundly in their bed, Vernon snoring obnoxiously. The fourth door- a nursery. There was a crib pushed against the wall, and Regulus walked over to it, as silent as Death himself. Regulus had grown up in a household where silence was necessary, and as traumatizing as that was, more often than not, it paid off.
Regulus looked into the crib and knew immediately this wasn’t Harry. The baby was around the same age, but his hair was short enough Regulus could see his blank forehead. No lightning scar.
Regulus looked around the room, even in the closet, but there were no other cribs. Harry wasn’t here.
Where would he be?
All of the upstairs rooms checked, Regulus ventured back downstairs. He peaked into the kitchen, the living room, even the bathroom. Nothing.
Where was Harry?
Regulus was beginning to think the Dursleys had found a way to get rid of him, the thought poisoning his brain with anxiety, when he heard a quiet coo from somewhere nearby.
Regulus followed the sound and came to the door of the cupboard under the stairs. Regulus was confused; he knew he heard someone, but from the cupboard?
Regulus opened the door and murmured, “Lumos.”
The light from his wand illuminated the cupboard, and it shined on the smallest bassinet Regulus had ever seen that still took up most of the cupboard. In the bassinet was a ratty blanket that had seen better days, and something shifted under the blanket.
Horrible realization beginning to seep in, Regulus moved the blanket aside and found a small face with a lightning scar on the forehead.
They put him in a cupboard?!
Regulus was ready to storm upstairs and kill the Dursleys on the spot, but before he could, a loud cry split the air. A quick glance showed it wasn’t from Harry. Must’ve been from the other baby upstairs, the Dursleys’ brat.
A light turned on upstairs, and Regulus could hear footsteps. No time for murder. He had to get Harry out of here first.
Regulus grabbed Harry, blanket and all, and ran for the front door he had left open. He sprinted into the night, leaving the door open behind him. Footsteps stomped down the stairs in the Dursley house, and with no time to run, Regulus cast an Invisibility Charm. Magic cloaked around him, reflecting the light so no one could see Regulus or the baby in his arms.
Vernon Dursley appeared on the doorstep, looking around in panic.
“Vernon!” Petunia called from somewhere inside. “Harry’s gone!” She didn’t sound particularly worried or afraid, more like stating a fact.
Vernon huffed. “Good riddance. Whoever took him can have him.”
Regulus’s blood boiled, but he stayed still and silent.
Vernon slammed the door, and the sound woke Harry, who wiggled in Regulus’s arms and opened his eyes. Emerald green, like Lily’s.
Harry looked at Regulus. Regulus looked at Harry. Neither of them moved.
Harry didn’t cry, and Regulus realized in the Dursley house, he likely wasn’t allowed to. Regulus glared at the door to Number Four Pivet Drive, and his hand itched for his wand, but he had other things to take care of. Namely, the baby in his arms.
Harry freed a hand from the blanket swaddling him, and he reached for Regulus’s face in curiosity. The tiny hand touched Regulus’s cheek, and the baby cooed.
When was the last time anyone held him like this? Regulus knew then he would protect this child with everything he had, just as James and Lily would’ve wanted.