Poison and Wine

Mid January, 1999

Harry walked into Moody’s office, thinking about Hermione’s words to him. “Don’t volunteer yourself for more stuff you don’t actually want to do.” It was good advice. She was often full of good advice. However, it wasn't as easy as Hermione made it out to be.

Unlike the other Aurors, Harry struggled with one single word, ‘no’. For years, he had been practically groomed to say ‘yes’. He was the savior of the Wizarding World, after all and saviors cannot decline to save someone. Harry knew that if Moody were to ask him to do something, he would struggle to decline.

As he stepped into the familiar office, the older wizard greeted him with a grunt that sounded something like, “good morning.”

“Good morning, sir,” Harry responded as he took a seat across the desk from Moody.

“Well, I’ve been looking over your files from the Malfoy Manor library and it looks like everything is in good shape.”

“Thank you.”

“No,” Moody grunted. “Thank you. No one wanted to touch this case, and you stepped up. You’re a real team player, Harry.”

He only nodded in response.

“I wanted to talk to you personally about what you chose to take on next. I know you said you wanted to be far from any potential combat. But there are some former Death Eaters who’ve been uncovered in France. I was hoping-”

“Moody,” Harry looked down at his hands. “I don’t…I can’t be that kind of Auror.” The words felt rotten on his lips, however, he just kept thinking about his conversation with Hermione. Additionally, he knew what being back in combat would do to him. Nightmares still plagued his dreams–he didn’t need more people trying to kill him.

“Why not? You are one of the fastest duelists I’ve known in decades. Do you want some time to consider-”

“No,” he forced his eyes to meet with Moody’s mismatched ones. “I can’t do…I can’t do that.” He hated how weak he sounded.

A look of acceptance crossed the old man’s face. Slowly, he nodded. “Alright, son,” he said. “I was hoping you’d say ‘yes’ that way I didn’t have to ask you to do something…worse.”

“Worse?” Harry felt his heart drop in his chest, maybe it would be best if he just quit the Ministry right then and there.

Sure, he still had money in the bank, left to him by his parents. However, it wasn’t enough to live on--not with a baby coming. Much of the Potter ‘fortune’ had been dried up by the Order. He debated the ramifications of quitting his job while Moody took a deep sigh followed by a long sip of coffee.

“Narcissa Malfoy died last night.”

Harry was startled by the news. Narcissa was far from being a close friend, but she had saved him during the war. She had lied to Voldemort’s face in an attempt to make sure her son was alive. Harry would never forget those actions.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said quietly.

“With Lucius in prison, Draco will inherit the estate. While he’s obviously free from house-arrest, the Ministry still views him as a possible enemy.”

“He’s not-”

“He could be,” Moody interrupted. “That’s why we need someone to keep tabs on him. I had hoped you’d be excited about the Death Eaters in France but-”

“You want me to babysit Malfoy?” Harry couldn’t believe his luck. “I’d really rather not go back to the Manor.”

“Lucky for you, he plans to move in with a friend--someplace in Hogsmeade, I guess.”

Harry was struggling to process all the information thrown at him. “Why…why does someone need to check on him? He hasn’t done anything wrong since he was released from house arrest.”

“Smith stopped by the Manor last weekend on an errand for me and claimed to have seen evidence of dark magic. I told him just what you are telling me, but the bastard went over my head about it. Shacklebolt wants to make sure that releasing Mr. Malfoy wasn’t a mistake.”

“Zaccharias went over to Malfoy Manor?”

“Yes.”

“What did he claim to see?”

“He says that he believes Draco is practicing dark magic in his study.”

Harry scoffed. “Then he’s a bloody idiot.”

Moody smirked. “I couldn’t agree more. However, I’m going to need you--or another Auror--to keep tabs on Draco. I need someone who is willing to stop by his new flat twice a week.”

“And if I don’t do it?”

“Smith has already sent in a request to do it.”

Harry felt anger spark in his chest. “I’ll do it,” he said. “Only twice a week? What will I do the rest of the time?”

“How do you feel about paperwork?”

Harry returned home feeling more annoyed than he had in a long time. He collapsed onto the couch the moment he stepped foot in the door. He could hear Ginny and Hermione talking and laughing from somewhere upstairs, but he didn’t have the energy to search them out. Instead, he stared up at the ceiling and contemplated what his next steps were.

He had agreed to all of Moody’s requests, if only to spare himself from going back in the line of fire. He had spent the rest of his day at his desk, tending to paperwork. It was incredibly boring but at least he wasn’t in France hunting down dangerous wizards.

After about a half-hour of self-pity, Harry returned to the kitchen to find Ginny and Hermione working on dinner together. The two women laughed as soft-rock station played over the radio. Ginny was making rice while Hermione was halfway into dicing up a variety of vegetables.

Harry took a moment and lingered in the doorway. He realized then just how lucky he was. No matter what happened, he had forged a family of his own. He came home to Ginny and Hermione, he visited Ron and George frequently, and even spent his holidays at The Burrow. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

“Harry,” Ginny grinned. Her long red hair had been pulled back from her face messily with a claw clip. She wore one of his Gryffindor t-shirts and a pair of shorts (despite it being January).

“Hey,” Harry said, glancing between the two women.

“How was work?” Hermione asked. She gave him a small smile. Her wild hair was gathered up atop her head in a bun. Curls were threatening to escape. 

“Ah,” he scratched the back of his head. “It was fine.”

Both women sent him questioning looks.

Harry let out a sigh, running his hand through his mess of hair. He began to explain the conversation he had with Moody. Ginny and Hermione exchanged looks with each other as he explained how Moody had wanted to send him to France. 

When he finished explaining his day at work Ginny said, “I’m going to start training for the Harpies as soon as I push out this baby. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

“And my lessons with Snape are going…well,” Hermione was clearly lying. “If money is the issue-”

“Stop,” he said quietly to both of them. “I want to work for the Ministry…at least for now. And I actually don’t think checking in on Malfoy will be too bad. I just…the idea of going to France to fight Death Eaters was…overwhelming.”

Ginny stepped up to him and pulled him into a rather aggressive embrace. “If you need to quit,” she said quietly. “We will figure things out.”

He returned her hug before gently pulling away and saying, “I know. But…I won’t quit yet.”

“You can’t honestly be okay with being Malfoy’s babysitter,” Hermione had her hands on her hips.

“I don’t think it’ll be bad,” he said.

“Why not?” She challenged.

“Do you guys remember what I said a couple months ago about Pansy?”

“She apologized to you,” Ginny responded.

“Yeah, well, he’s moving in with her and…well…I just feel like it might be easier to deal with him when she’s around,” he explained.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged another look with one another, this time it was a look of disgust. Harry couldn’t blame them. Pansy was just as bad as Malfoy had been. However, they hadn’t been there to see the genuine apology. She was sorry, he knew it to his core. With Pansy around, he was certain that dealing with Draco could be easier.

“If you say so,” Hermione said.

Ginny seemed to be biting her tongue with intensity. 

After eating dinner, Harry offered to clean up. Hermione returned upstairs to shower and read before going to bed (she was an early riser) and Ginny lounged in the living room with a romance novel propped up on her belly. 

Harry had always found doing dishes to be meditative. He enjoyed the simplicity of the task. Even doing it the muggle way wasn't bad. Although nowadays (away from the Dursleys) he used magic to clean the kitchen. As he cleaned, he contemplated his upcoming week. Malfoy wouldn’t be happy to see him again, but surely Harry was better than Zaccharias.

He had just about finished, when a strange knock came to the door. Harry wiped his hands on a towel and walked out into the entryway. He glanced into the living room to see that Ginny was sitting up straight on the couch. A look of worry settled on her face.

“Are you expecting someone?” She asked him.

“No,” he replied.

Ginny stood up and grabbed her wand. Despite being weeks away from giving birth, she was surprisingly fast on her feet. He could tell she was frightened. 

“Stay in there,” he said. “Maybe it’s just Ron.”

“Ron? Knocking?”

“Or Moody.”

The knock came again, and Harry pulled his wand out from his shirt sleeve. “Gin, please, just stay put.”

Ginny shot him a fiery look but didn’t move any closer. Harry approached the door, feeling the familiar sensation of panic begin to take root. Slowly, he cast a spell to open the door and held his wand out in front of him, aimed at the stranger.

The door opened with a creak and Harry was left feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. In the poor lighting of the front steps, stood a man who looked so similar to Sirius that it was almost painful. Harry’s hand shook as he held the wand out at the other wizard. 

This man wasn’t Sirius, he couldn’t be.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” Harry asked, his words shook slightly.

The man stared at Harry for a long moment before speaking. His intense gray eyes were shockingly familiar. Again, Sirius was all Harry could think about. However, this man was not Sirius.

“I…I don’t know,” the stranger muttered. There was a look of shock in his face, as if he was surprised to be there. “I think…I think this is my house.”

“What?”

“This house,” the man gestured to the inside. “I think I lived here…a long time ago.”

Harry felt a shiver run across his spine. Suddenly, he recognized the man in front of him. It was no wonder he had mistaken the stranger for Sirius. Standing before him on the icy front steps of Grimmauld Place was Regulus Black.

Harry felt like his brain had short-circuited. All he could manage to say was, “you…you’re supposed to be dead.”

“Well, I’m not…yet.”

He realized that while they had been making awkward introductions, Regulus had a hand clutched around his abdomen tightly. His clothing was dark, but his pale hands revealed blood.

“What happened?” Harry stepped forward towards the man, only for Regulus to step back, away from him.

“I…I don’t know…I woke up a couple kilometers from here,” his intense gray eyes met with Harry’s. “I don’t remember how I got there.”

“What do you remember?”

“Not much,” he said truthfully. “I think I grew up in this house--I don’t remember when that was. I remember bits and pieces of my life…school, my family, a dark…a dark wizard.”

“Harry,” a voice came from behind him. Ginny was standing in the hallway with a serious expression. “Let him in, it’s freezing outside.”

“Yes, well,” he glanced back at Regulus. “Come in.”

The older wizard regarded him with a distrustful expression. A lock of dark hair fell into his eyes.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Ginny said gently. It was a tone that Harry had heard many times before--especially after he had woken up from nightmares.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I’m Harry, and this is Ginny.”

“You’re…you look like someone I went to school with.”

“My father’s name was James.”

Regulus made a face of disgust. “That’s right, I remember him.”

“Voldemort is dead,” Ginny said. At the name of the dark wizard, Regulus' eyes snapped over to her. “You’re safe.” She repeated.

Slowly, Regulus stepped into the house. His eyes flickered from Harry back to Ginny. The door shut behind him and in the lights of the entryway Harry could see him better. 

Regulus was a couple inches taller than Harry himself, with a narrow build, much like Sirius. His hair was dark and long, with a streak of gray. He wore what looked to be an old wizarding cloak, weathered but well-tailored. His eyes were what reminded Harry the most of Sirius. Despite being the same in shape and color, they were void of humor or mischief. Regulus’ eyes only held much darker emotions.

“Why don’t you sit down in the living room,” Ginny gestured. “I’ll get you…some medical supplies.”

Harry led Regulus into the living room and wondered if the other wizard noticed all the changes that had taken place to the house. If he did, he made no comment. He silently walked through the room until he sat down on the chair beside the fireplace. Harry sat across from him at the edge of the couch.

“How did you find your way here?” he asked.

Regulus stared at the fire. “Luck, I suppose. I remembered enough to get to this street and from there it was easy.”

Harry nodded. “Where exactly did you wake up?”

“In an alley,” he looked over at Harry. “What year is it?”

“1999.”

“It’s been a long time,” he said more to himself than anyone else.

“What date do you remember? Before you woke up in the alley?”

Regulus seemed to look for the answer in the fire before speaking. “1979,” he said. “I had graduated from Hogwarts and…the Dark Lord…I swore myself to him, but he was going to destroy the world.”

Harry thought of Slytherin’s Locket that Kreature had hidden away and the fake one in the terrifying cave. 

“You tried to stop him, didn’t you,” Harry asked softly.

Regulus looked over at him but said nothing.

“I…I know about the Horcruxes. I know you hid Slytherin’s Locket.”

Something strange passed through Regulus’ eyes. It was an emotion that Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on. Before he could talk more about the Horcruxes, Ginny returned to the room with a bag of medical supplies and Hermione trailing close behind.

“This is Hermione, she lives here too,” Harry explained. “Hermione, this is Regulus Black.”

Hermione looked as stunned as Harry felt she lingered at the edge of the room, assessing the situation that was unfolding in front of her. Ginny, on the other hand, was already approaching Regulus with a determined expression.

“Either you can do this yourself or I can,” Ginny said as she stopped in front of the chair.

Regulus gave her a skeptical look.

“You’re bleeding,” she said matter-of-factly. “Either you can clean it, or I can.”

“I’ll do it,” Regulus said at last.

Ginny placed the bag of supplies on the small table beside him. “Everything you need to clean it is in there. There’s also the Essence of Dittany to heal it but if you need anything else, let one of us know.”

Harry felt a bit trapped, staring at Regulus. This man had been dead for two-decades. How in the name of Merlin had he just showed up at their front door like no time had passed at all? Where had he been all those years? Why had he come back now?

“Harry,” Ginny turned to face him. “Why don’t we give him a bit of space to…clean up.”

“Right,” Harry stood up quickly.

“We'll be back,” Ginny assured Regulus.

He said nothing in response.

In the kitchen, Harry stood with Ginny and Hermione, wondering what the hell was happening.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Hermione said as she paced the small space. “If that’s Regulus Black, where has he been all these years.”

“I don’t know,” Harry said for what felt like the millionth time.

“People don’t just show up out of nowhere.”

“The problem is that it doesn’t seem like he remembers much,” Ginny said. “He thought this was still his house. He was bleeding pretty bad. I don’t think he’s…very coherent.”

“What should we do?” Harry asked.

“We’ll let him heal himself and then send him on his way,” Ginny said simply.

“What?” Both Harry and Hermione stared at her.

The redhead flicked a long strand of hair out of her eyes. “What would you two propose? We let him stay?”

“Well, I…” Harry trailed off.

“He doesn’t have anywhere else to stay,” Hermione said softly.

“Then we’ll bring him to St. Mungos, and they’ll sort him out.”

“He’s confused,” Harry said. “But I don’t think he’s dangerous. It doesn’t even look like he has a wand.”

“Oh, so you’re thinking of having another roommate?” Ginny snapped.

“I agree about bringing him to St Mungos,” Hermione said slowly. “But Gin, don’t you think we should let him stay for the night? Just the night? It’s late and-”

“Fine,” she sighed. “One night.”