Let’s Go, I Guess?
Stepping back out into the corridor off of the court rooms, Regulus waves goodbye to Dorcas. He shakes out his dress robes and follows after Martha. She doesn’t speak or turn to see that he’s following, but walks rather briskly onward to the lifts. They enter in silence and exit somewhere on the second floor, Regulus assumes near her department. She leads him to an office and opens the door to a child, playing Gobstones alone on the floor.
His shocking platinum hair is clearly a Malfoy trait, but when the small boy looks up with a sneer so deep it’s as if something pungent is directly under his nose, there can be no denying that the boy is Lucius’ son. But, it’s his eyes that make Regulus’ knees feel weak and his gut tie itself into a million little knots. Pearlescent pools of silver light stare back at him that so strongly resemble Narcissa. Regulus can’t help the smile that forms.
Sneer fading fast at the sight of Regulus Draco says, “Are you my Uncle Reggie?”
“Yeah,” Regulus breathes out. “Yeah, kid. I sure am.”
Draco rises off the floor and slowly makes his way toward Regulus. He reaches him, and before Regulus realizes what’s happening, the boy is hugging him tightly around the waist, hands fisted in the back of his dress robes. “Mum told stories about you,” he whispers. “She said you were her favorite cousin.” Regulus places a shaking hand on top of Draco’s head, and rubs small circles along the boy's back. He looks down at him, unbelieving that he will be coming home with him. That he gets to keep him. That he’s going to be responsible for another living creature besides himself.
“Ahem,” Martha interrupts, her beady eyes staring daggers into Regulus’. “His bags will be delivered to your home, they should be there before you arrive. All of his belongings should be there, if something’s missing you can owl.”
Regulus runs a hand through his own curls and squeezes Draco’s shoulder as he straightens out and moves away from the small embrace they’d found themselves in. Martha holds out some paperwork to Regulus and motions to her desk. He takes a seat in one of the small chairs in front of her as Draco goes back to his game on the floor.
“Everything you need to know about health histories is within this paperwork. We just need a few signatures from you agreeing to take Draco into your care before you leave,” Martha places the papers in front of Regulus to sign, which he does as each piece flies away before his pen has barely left it. “We will be checking in weekly for the first few months to see how your adjusting, please ensure your floo is open for our communication. Should you deem your responsibility to be too much, contact me at once and we will come to collect the boy.”
“Excuse me?” Says Regulus, pen stopping on the parchment.
“He’s a bit to handle, Mr. Black,” Martha responded shortly, not looking up from the paperwork she’s sorting. “His caretakers during this time have stated that he’s a bit of a difficult child.”
Regulus' face grows hot and he tugs on the collar of his dress robes. “He’s five, I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.” He looks down to his small nephew on the floor, blonde hair and grey eyes looking back at him fearfully. He’s so small, so innocent. Regulus can’t help but think of himself as a child of five, with no one to look after his well being. With no one to stick up for him even in his own family. “We’ve got this,” he says, again, winking down at Draco.
“Very well, then I think that’s all we need today. I’ll show you back out.” Martha states, standing and quickly ushering Regulus and Draco out of her office. As they turn the corner and away from the department, Regulus catches Draco move slightly out of the corner of his eye. Facing away from Regulus, Draco turns his head to Martha and sticks his tongue out at her. Not wanting to cause a scene, Regulus rushes them out, hiding smirk.
Making their way back out to the Ministry atrium and towards the floos (as Regulus can’t apparate with Draco), they are met with swarms of witches and wizards mulling about their day. Regulus quickens his pace, holding tight to Draco’s shoulder as he does, making sure not to lose track of the boy in the hoards of people passing them by. Regulus’ pulse quickens as he walks and feels heads snapping towards him, eyes boring into him. People turn to stare, faces snapping from Regulus to the boy next to him with shockingly blonde hair. Draco doesn’t seem to notice as he skips alongside Regulus. Shaking slightly as they reach the fireplaces, Regulus gently nudges Draco forward and into the floo, onward to his awaiting home.
Regulus pops out of the floo, stepping out right after Draco. The boy stops in his tracks looking around at the drawing room.
“It’s a little dark,” Regulus says, trying to sound reassuring. “But, you get used to it. It’s not so bad now…” he trails off thinking of the people in his pasts, ghosts still haunting his home.
“Masters!” Kreacher calls. He bows coming into the drawing room. “Kreacher is glad to welcome you to our home, young Draco. Master Regulus, the boy's items have arrived. But, there’s something else that’s also arrived that you should see-“
Before Kreacher can finish a crack sounds behind him and another, slightly smaller elf, appears shrieking with glee. “Master Malfoy!” It squeaks. “I’s missed you I has. I is so glad to be back with you. To see you again.”
“Dobby?” Draco cries, running towards the small creature and embracing it.
“Dobby?” Asks Regulus looking at Kreacher, eyebrows raised.
“Yes,” Kreacher responds, sighing. “It appears Dobby was Master Malfoy’s personal elf, and thus belonged solely to him. And now,” he gulps, rolling his eyes with disgust, “to us.”
“Well,” chuckles Regulus, laughing in spite of the situation. “Maybe this will help with the transition a bit.”
“Perhaps, but that doesn’t fix the annoying elf issue,” grumbles Kreacher.
Regulus laughs out loud. He looks down at Draco and Dobby on the floor and sees the boy's admiration for the small creature. Draco is patting Dobby on the head, the elf looking up at him with glee. Draco whispers, “I’m so excited you’re here with me! Think of all the adventures we’ll have here.”
“Well they are clearly attached to each other,” Regulus remarks, looking down at Kreacher. “So he’s gonna have to stay.”
“Very well, I’ll have to bring him up to speed on being a house elf for the most noble and ancient house of Black.”
Regulus laughs again at Kreacher and watches as the older elf ushers the smaller off of the floor and back to the kitchens, presumably to give him proper orders. Dobby looks back, eyes wide and glimmering, waving crazily at Draco as he goes. Draco looks around the room, taking in the bleak walls and dim lighting, and promptly looks down at his lap.
“Shall I show you your room, Draco?” Regulus asks, tentatively. “I’ve made a little space for you upstairs that’s all your own, hopefully you’ll like it.”
They step out into the foyer off of the drawing room. Draco stops in the doorway. He looks hesitantly down the hall and towards the staircase, eyes going wide.
“It’s very…” he starts, “dark in here.”
“Ah,” Regulus replies, stepping in front of him into the hallway. “Yes, well it’s been a rather long time since I had a use for any of the rooms down here, aside from the kitchen, so we haven’t really kept up with making it feel homey. But, I can fix that.” He waves his wand lighting chandeliers on the ceilings, sconces in the wall. They spring to life and the morose halls brighten a bit. Regulus casts at some of the cobwebs and dust, diminishing it.
Draco takes a deep breath and grabs Regulus’ hand, pulling him forward. Regulus leads the way up the stairs to the bedrooms. Wearily glancing at the portraits as they make their way up, Draco asks, “Why haven’t you had anyone here with you?”
“I try to keep to myself,” Regulus responds. He’s not sure how much to share with the child, but he adds, “sometimes it was easier for me to be alone. But, I’m very glad you’re here with me now.”
“Oh,” is all Draco says.
When they reach the bedrooms, Regulus casts another charm to lighten the dim hallway, hoping to make it more inviting. “My room is here,” he says pointing to a door on the left side of the hall. “And yours will be right here across from mine, you’ll have your own bathroom as well.”
“Then whose is that?” Draco asks, pointing to the door next to his own.
“Oh, erm,” Regulus stammers. “That was my brother's room, before he left. I don’t really go in there.”
Draco shrugs and opens the door to his own room, stepping inside. His eyes grow wide as he looks around, he squeals as he makes a run for his toys (already delivered and presumably set up by Kreacher).
Clutching a stuffed dragon, he runs back to Regulus in the doorway. Grabbing his hand he drags him into the room. They stand at the center of the room, Draco taking in everything around him. The room has been decorated with beautiful emerald green draperies and bedding. It is warm, unlike the rest of the house. Toys litter the floor - a small train set, book, a toy cauldron set, and stuffed animals all set out for Draco. Two large armchairs sit before the window, which looks out to the gardens (though there isn’t much of a garden to look at). The fireplace is roaring in the center of the room, and the mantle is lined with photographs of Draco and his parents.
“It’s perfect,” whispers Draco. “Thanks Uncle Reggie.”
Regulus feels the wards shake within his home office and knowing his floo is going off, he looks to Draco. “Will you be ok for a moment while I take a call about work? Kreacher can stay with you. I'm sure you’ll be comfortable. Kreacher!”
“I’ll be okay, Uncle Reggie,” Draco says, “I’m sure we can find something fun to do.” His hands move towards a porcelain statue of some ancient Black relative on his bedside table, as Regulus turns his back to walk away. Kreacher pops into the room.
“Kreacher I’ll be right back, ok? I have a work floo, can you manage with Draco for a moment?” Regulus asks.
“If you insist, Master,” Kreacher responds, eyeing Draco suspiciously.
Regulus’ office is barely decorated and barely used. The walls are painted a dark gray, and other than a few sconces for lowly glowing candles they are bare. Void of portraits, paintings, mirrors, any decor pieces really as Regulus never cared about all the fluff. His office space is small, a room off the kitchen barely larger than a closet, but enough to serve its purpose. When he works he’s usually present at the department, but given the circumstances of the adoption he’d taken a few days off. If they were triggering his wards here at his home then they needed him for something urgent. He takes a seat in front of the ornate marble fireplace running a hand over his cheek, bracing for what will inevitably be a problem only he can solve. His main project for the department hasn’t been going well, they’d been working on it the four years since Regulus signed on as an Unspeakable and made no progress. It’s only a moment before a face appears in the fire before him.
“Regulus!” The man in the fire exclaims. The man, older than Regulus by at least ten years, is thin and balding, the circles under his eyes ever present. “Thank goodness you’re back home already. Does that mean things went well?”
“Yep,” is all Regulus responds with.
“That’s great! Wonderful! So glad you got the result you were hoping for -“ the man rambles.
“Garret,” Regulus interrupts, losing his patience. “What is it that you need?”
“Oh, right,” Garret stammers. “Let’s skip over that small talk, yeah? Right. Um, well. I’ll just jump right to it. The subject is awake.”
Regulus startles, “Awake? What do you mean?”
“He - he woke up!” Garret says. “Quite insane really. Woke up and just started talking. Doesn’t remember a thing. Doesn’t remember being asleep. Doesn’t remember what happened to him. We weren’t expecting this last round of potions to do it but it roused him right out of the coma. Do you think you can come in for the interview?”
“Erm..” Regulus says, a little shocked at this news. “I don’t think I can make it in until next week. You’re sure he doesn’t remember anything? Not a thing? Does he know who he is?”
“No. He claims he doesn’t remember anything.”
“Let’s try some memory charms, work some legilimency, while I’m gone, see if you guys can unlock anything. And keep me updated. I can’t believe he’s awake.”
“You got it boss!” Garret says before disconnecting the floo.
Regulus stares at the empty fireplace breathing heavily. A break. After four years. The subject is awake. He’s not sure what this means.
An echoing bang brings Regulus out of his thoughts as he looks towards the ceiling. Stepping back into the hall, he sees a cloud of smoke and dust billowing down the stairs. Heart racing, Regulus runs up the stairs two at a time to Draco’s quarters fear growing in his belly at every step. He bursts through the bedroom to thick black smoke, he coughs, waving his hands in front of his face. He casts, wandlessly, to clear the smoke and sees a blackened Kreacher staring wide-eyed in horror at Draco. He’s sitting cross legged on his bed, a cauldron in front of him, still smoking. He looks up as Regulus walks forward, smirking. As Regulus looks around the room he notices the porcelain bust of his relative is shattered next to the table, the curtains are shredded in piles in front of the windows, and the bedding is strewn around the room in a makeshift fort.
Regulus walks slowly toward the bed and peers into the cauldron at the muddy, charred substance within it. “We were playing camping and I was making stew!” Coos Draco. Regulus looks to Kreacher who just shakes his head frantically.
“Were you using magic, Draco?” Asks Regulus.
“I just thought I could light the fire if I tried.” Draco shrugs.
“Let’s leave the fire to the elves, yeah?” Regulus says, rubbing the ash off of Draco’s forehead. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”
“Master, I think we have our work cut out for us,” Kreacher says under his breath as Regulus walks past with Draco.