Chapter 4
The familiar sound of the television brings Regulus back to consciousness. “-right when he awakened!” a voice says in the distance. Regulus whips upright. The voice definitely does not belong to Dumbledore. Spots dance before his eyes but he breathes through his sudden spell. All he is thinking about right now is how his parents found him. How they’re here to take him back. Regulus throws himself off the couch. He curses the loud thud he makes. He crawls behind the furniture. He double curses when he realises he doesn’t have his wand. The Potters might’ve taken it.
A scurry of feet reverberates through the floor. “Regulus?!” He hears Euphemia call. Regulus squeezes his eyes shut and slams a hand over his mouth. He curls into a tiny ball. The footfalls get louder and louder. “Mr. Black,” Dumbledore’s airy voice is closer than Euphemia. Regulus opens his eyes and looks up at the old wizard. There is no emotion in the man's clear, blue eyes. That seems to be the case with Dumbledore though. Regulus wonders if the wizard is secretly a robot because he never seems fazed by anything. “Can you sit on the couch? I have some questions for you.” Dumbledore asks patiently.
This is like when Sirius first ran away for a week when he was twelve and a Ministry worker came to do random walkthroughs of Grimmauld. Walburga and Orion were furious. They refused to feed the boys for two nights after that. Sirius snuck Regulus toast from the kitchens though. So, Regulus stands. His legs slightly tremor with the effort but he’s stronger than yesterday. ‘For Sirius.’ Regulus repeats like a mantra as he collapses back down on the couch. Euphemia and Fleamont are also present and seated on the loveseat beside Regulus. There is a fourth person standing in the living room doorway with his arms crossed. The mysterious man has red hair and one, working, dark brown eye. His other eye is electric blue and obviously a prosthetic.
The man grunts when he notices Regulus staring. “Ah,” Mrs. Potter brightens, “Alastor Moody is an Auror.” Auror. A hunter of dark wizards. Thinking the worst, Regulus goes on guard. He reaches for his wand before remembering it's not there. Dumbledore holds up a hand. “He’s not here for you.” The man states calmly. “Yet.” Alastor huffs
“Alastor!” Euphemia cuts in. Alastor tsks. “I’ve had a fair few Blacks in my days, Euphemia.” The man tilts his head, sizing up Regulus. Euphemia gasps, outraged. Regulus straightens. He tries to appear unphased by the Auror’s scrutiny. Alastor meets Regulus' face and chuckles dryly. “This one’s hungry for a fight! Are we sure he’s not a ploy?” He addresses Dumbledore. Dumbledore stays silent. Alastor walks slowly towards Regulus. He licks his lips. “I’ve heard all about the famous Regulus Black. Smartest Death Eater of his age. Most promising of all Voldemort’s followers.” Alastor slowly walks back and forth behind Regulus.
Regulus snaps. A glass jar shatters on the mantel. “Jealous, Moody?” He sharply turns to meet the Auror’s eye. “I may be the smartest, the strongest, the most magically talented wizard, not of age but I am not a Death Eater. So, you can take your twisted little fantasies of me being the enemy and shove it!” Regulus launches to his feet. His head spins and he stumbles back onto the couch. Euphemia is already crouched at his side. A worried frown on her face. “Strongest wizard, eh?” Alastor chuffs slightly. His tone is lighter now. Different. His presence drifts off of Regulus’ radar. “He’s safe.” Alastor says to Dumbledore. “I-I’m sor-” Regulus heaves breath. Euphemia raises a cup of liquid to his mouth. Regulus doesn’t fight it. Cold water washes its’ way down Regulus’ throat. “Shh~ no hun, there’s nothing to be sorry about. Alastor was playing a mean game.” Euphemia soothes. Then, she looks around Regulus at Moody. Regulus assumes she’s giving him the stink eye.
Gully brings another tray of tea to fill the awkward silence. Regulus thanks the House Elf and takes over doctoring his own beverage. Moody raises a shocked brow. “You got that one house trained already?” He jokes to Fleamont. Fleamont blows out a breathy laugh. “No, no. He came like this.” Fleamont retorts softly. “Interesting.” Moody mumbles as he observes Regulus make his tea. The young boy sets out four other cups and places teabags in all of them. Euphemia reaches out for the sugar jar Regulus holds and still his movements. “I’ll take it from here, love.” She whispers as Fleamont and Moody chat above them. Regulus takes his teacup and sits back in his seat.
Dumbledore clears his throat. Regulus feels a block of a rage and hate bubble in his gut. “Mr. Black, your brother described his recollection of events when he was removed from Grimmauld. If you could speak yours please.” The elder wizard asks. Scepticism flares bright in his stomach. He doesn’t trust Dumbledore. He never has. ‘You left me!’ Regulus wants to shake the man seated in front of him. With his twinkling, apathetic eyes and patient expression. A lump in his throat forms as a subtle Legilimency spell washes over him. The spell nudges Regulus out of his body and urges him to spill every detail from two nights ago. ‘No!’ Regulus wants to scream. He can’t do this. ‘Not again!’ He already told the Potters’ a brief summary of events. Why can’t Dumbledore ask them?
With all the panic running through Regulus right now, the air turns electric. He recalls every bit of strength he has gained and faces the memories of when his mother took control of his thoughts like this. When past Regulus steps foot in the sitting room at Grimmauld, he uses all his energy to turn around to the void of space. Dumbledore is shadowing him in the memory. Regulus stares right into the mans’ unnaturally blue eyes. “Get your filthy fingers out of my mind!” He yells and mentally shoves Dumbledore. He shuts and locks the old doors he pushed Dumbledore through and leaves the memory. Regulus can’t find it in him to care about the fact underaged wizards aren’t allowed to use magic outside of school. The headmaster jolts in person and bristles. “Well then,” he starts, “there are several options here.” Dumbledore retrieves his teacup like Regulus didn’t just overpower him.
The Potter’s are oblivious to what just happened. Euphemia politely coughs to get Dumbledore to go on. “If they’re willing, the Potters can adopt you. You can apply for emancipation. Or you could go into the foster system.” The old man lists. Bile rises at the thought of going into a stranger's house. Fleamont hugs his wife from behind. “Of course we’ll take Regulus.” Euphemia chirps cheerfully. Regulus slightly smiles. “Thank you, Mrs. Potter. I still think emancipation is my best route here.” He gnaws on his lip.
Moody grunts. All four of the wizards turn to the Auror. Alastor’s mechanical eye looks around wildly but his other one looks straight at Dumbledore. “Albus,” Moody says quietly to Dumbledore. “There is a fourth option.” Alastor side eyes Regulus. Euphemia sits forward in her seat. “What would that be?” Fleamont asks. Alastor and Dumble share calculated looks. Dumbledore hesitates. Whether that’s because of his age or not wanting to go on is a mystery. When he finally does speak, Regulus wishes he didn’t. “Sirius is of age in November, isn’t he?” Dumbledore says.
“No!” Regulus yells. He automatically knows what is being implied. He refuses to allow Sirius to take him in. “Regulus-” Euphemia starts
“No! Absolutely not!” He protests. Sirius finally got away from Regulus. Regulus won’t force himself back in his brother's care. He already is dreading seeing Sirius when he returns from his camping trip. Euphemia rolls her lip inwards but nods. Regulus blows out a breath. “I would like to look into emancipation, please.” Regulus calmly addresses Dumbledore. Over his shoulder, Alastor looks sceptical but keeps quiet. Dumbledore stands up. “Very well Mr. Black. I will have the papers sent over.” He turns to the Potter’s. “I assume you will provide Regulus here with housing?” Dumbledore quirks an eyebrow. Euphemia nods hastily. Fleamont is the one to shake Dumbledore’s hand and answer. “For as long as he likes.” Fleamont smiles at Regulus.
Alastor grunts. “I’ve placed protective wards around the property to provide extra protection.” Euphemia smiles. “Thank you, Alastor.” They are all quiet while the two wizards leave. They apparate with a CRACK! Just like that, the house is still again.