Velvet Bond

The grandiose Malfoy Manor glimmered beneath a frosty winter moon as guests swept through its towering wrought-iron gates. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy’s annual New Year's Eve ball had become a tradition among the most elite of wizarding society—a gathering where power, beauty, and wealth draped the air like thick perfume. Inside, the manor was transformed into a dazzling palace of black and silver. Every inch of the main ballroom had been painstakingly designed to evoke a sense of opulence and restrained menace.

Regulus grimaced looking at the room, already tired of all that.

The room itself was vast, with an arched ceiling enchanted to reflect the starry sky outside, its dark expanses glittering with constellations that shifted subtly as the night progressed. Narcissa was always very serious about this part of the rooftop because she liked to show everyone were their lineage came from, they were named after the stars themselves, a weird but personal tradition that Narcissa decided to continue with Draco. After that crystal chandeliers hung like floating galaxies, casting a silvery glow over the guests below. Walls adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of ancient pureblood families and their legendary feats loomed overhead, while intricate marble floors gleamed underfoot, so polished that they mirrored the gowns and robes sweeping across them.

"What is- that?" Evan whispered pointing at the center of the room and Regulus did everything he could to not laugh.

The room’s centerpiece was a massive, enchanted ice sculpture shaped like a soaring serpent, its scales shimmering with cold fire. It wound itself through the center of the ballroom, weaving in and out of the air as though alive, casting icy breaths toward the guests as they passed.

"It's a very well made snake, Evan. Can't you see?"

"Just- why?" Barty rolled his eyes. "Literally, why?"

"It's time to give up, where is the wine?" Regulus muttered and he swore he heard a 'thank Merlin' from one of his two friends.

Along the walls there were dark wooden tables laden with the finest wines and delicacies—rare, exotic magical foods glowing softly under the lights. The guests themselves, an assembly of regal faces and cutting gazes, mingled with easy grace, though each word was carefully chosen, every movement calculated. But Regulus didn't care enough for them while he tried to reach for his prey, the bottle.

At the head of the room, Narcissa Malfoy stood by Lucius. Her gown, made of silver silk that flowed like water, caught the light with every delicate motion. Lucius, tall and imposing in black velvet robes, surveyed the crowd with a cold smile, his hand resting on the handle of his serpent-headed cane. Their eyes were scanning the room for the night's most important attendees until Narcissa saw him and nodded slightly, coming toward him. Bellatrix was still nowhere to be seen. Cheers to that.

"Your mother will not be pleased by your act." She pointed at the empty glass in his hand and he shrugged her off with a hand.

"It's the first one, Cissa. Just to pass the time. This is awful."

"Well- thanks" she rolled his eyes but she knew that Regulus wasn't referring to her party but mostly about the people in it.
He tried to stood slightly apart from the party. Regulus was as much a creature of the shadows as the space between the stars, he wasn't like Sirius, he couldn't laugh at jokes like he did, he couldn't make simple conversations if he wasn't interested, he became better at it, but it was so fucking exhausting.

"You're nice tonight, Reg. Glad to see you well." Narcissa pointed out with a look at his robes. His sleek black robes blended with the atmosphere of the night, only the faintest hint of silver embroidery tracing the edges of his attire. His dark hair, immaculately groomed, framed a sharp, brooding face that was both handsome and haunted. Regulus' gray eyes flickered across the room, catching her glance, a shared look of understanding between cousins.

"Well- it's thank to you at the end of the day." He grimaced again, Regulus put her in a dangerous situation and if something happened to Narcissa he would never forgive himself. "I'm sorry if-" but Narcissa was already shocking her head.

"I didn't ask you what happened, but I can't see you like that anymore." She looked at him eyes, something difficult to read was hide behind her blue gaze. "Regulus you're the only family, a part from Bellatrix, that I have. I can't lose even you. I need you. Can't-" she looked away as if she wanted to control her guests, but she was only masking her insecurities "Can't you stop? It's too dangerous, you're a kid-"
Regulus closed his eyes. His cousin never asked him anything and he was heartbroken knowing that he couldn't fulfill even this. But he promised.

"I'm sorry but I've already made up my mind, Narcissa- please I need-"

"Right. Sorry. Silly thought. Never mind, have a great evening." And with that her usual shape returned on her face. Cold and glacial. Beautiful and dangerous. Regulus sighed massaging his temples, what a wonderful night.

And it was not even started.

He was not there to celebrate, he needed to gather news, subtle politics and power games that unfolded beneath the surface. Regulus knew that this night was more than an opulent display of wealth; it was a stage where alliances were forged and rivalries reignited, where the Dark Lord’s presence lingered in the hearts of some of those attending, whether spoken of aloud or not, so he needed to stay on their old side, he needed to know where their loyalty stayed, if there was something alarming through the row's of Death Eaters.

The music swelled—a hauntingly beautiful melody played by an unseen orchestra, the strains of violins and cellos filling the air. Couples began to dance, their movements like the ebb and flow of dark waters. But Regulus did not join them. Instead, he remained near the edge of the ballroom, observing. Always observing.

In the distance, a faint conversation drifted toward him, words hushed and veiled. He knew the kind of power games being played in these rooms. This wasn’t just a night of revelry for him. It was something far more precarious. It was his time to go and talk, small talk, some jokes, maybe he could vent about marriage- this thing always gathered interest and people were more friendly. Everything for a good match.

And as the midnight hour approached, Regulus could feel the weight of decisions looming on his shoulders—decisions that, once made, could never be undone.
"I didn't expect you to smoke, Mr. Black."
He snapped his eyes open, he closed them just for a minute and Regulus already knew he shouldn't have. Just few more hours.

"Mr. Crabbe." He tossed the cigarette away, trying to mask the smell of smoke. "You here too?"

"Just needed a bit of air." The man smiled at him and Regulus knew that Crabbe didn't need air, he needed the current Lord Black to marry his daughter. His family wasn't so wealthy and powerful like before, so he was a big, big, big match.

"I understand, inside his hot and crowded. The air outside is chilly and nice."

"I heard you're thinking about marriage." Didn't even wait a minute, Regulus bitterly thought.

"I should start to think about it. But it's a long way to go. I'm still full with my new position as a Lord and with the war going on it's difficult to think of someone else." Regulus smiled coldly. "But it's time."

"You're a magnificent boy, Regulus. Clever, powerful and wealthy. Every woman out there wants to marry you. But who can guarantee eternal trust? You need someone lovable and capable to manage all the things you have." Regulus rolled his eyes.

"And this is your daughter? I don't really know." Crabble laughed.

"Yes she is. She's the perfect match. Trained since the youngest years of her life. If you marry her we'll give you our complete trust. Not-" Crabble paused for a minute. "Not the Dark Lord but you." Regulus's breath froze.
No one went so far to gain his favour.
What did he give away? How did Crabble know what he wants?
Did they think he's a traitor?"

"What-"

"I know you need more, Regulus. I've seen you since you were two years old. You crave for power, you ask for power. I see how you look at Voldemort. You don't want to serve him, you want to be him."
No. No Regulus wasn't. He- he- he couldn't.
He wasn't like- like him.
He- no-nonononoonononoonono-
"I'll let you think about it. You know where to find me." Crabble passed through him while Regulus managed to maintain his facade.

He wasn't,
Crabble was lying.
Regulus didn't want the power.

"I need a glass of wine." Regulus whispered before entering again. Still the perfect image of composure he put his back against the wall. The serpentine ice sculpture wound its way around the room, casting long shadows, and as Regulus raised a glass of dark red wine to his lips, the night stretched out before him, still too early to go.

But as the grand clock in the ballroom ticked closer to midnight, the tension in the air thickened, though only those attuned to the currents of power would have noticed. The guests, dressed in their finest, continued to glide across the marble floor, unaware that the night was about to crack.

Regulus sensed it first—an unfamiliar vibration that hummed beneath the ballroom’s surface charm, making the enchanted ceiling flicker for the briefest of moments. His gray eyes narrowed, scanning the edges of the room.

Something wasn’t right.
He had been raised to trust his instincts, and right now, they were screaming at him.
Danger, danger, danger.

Regulus checked first for Narcissa but he didn't have any time.

Suddenly, the doors to the ballroom blasted open with a thunderous crash, the sound echoing like a shot across the stunned gathering. For a moment, there was silence, a collective inhale as every head turned toward the entrance. In the swirling dust of the splintered doors stood figures cloaked in shadows, but their identities were unmistakable.

The Order of the Phoenix had arrived.

"Get down!" someone shouted, the voice piercing the stillness just as spells erupted into the air like bolts of lightning. Bright jets of light flew in all directions—stunners, shield charms, and hexes, the first sparks of what would soon become chaos.

The room exploded into a frenzy. Some Death Eaters -Avery, Yaxley, Rosier- reached for their wands, while others tried to flee, their cloaks catching on chairs and tables as they bolted for the side exits. The haunting melody of the orchestra was replaced by the sharp cracks of duels erupting across the ballroom. Flames shot from wand tips, crashing against the enchanted ice serpent, which shattered into a thousand glittering shards as it collapsed to the floor, its cold magic dissipating in a hiss of steam.

Regulus found out that he didn't need to look for Narcissa.
She was already fighting for her life against them.
Narcissa Malfoy, always composed, was immediately at Lucius’ side, her wand drawn and her eyes blazing with fury. Lucius, snarling, raised his cane-wand and deflected a curse aimed straight for them, the crackling energy fizzling against the shield charm he conjured. "Rally the others!" he barked to a cluster of Death Eaters, his voice a whip of authority. But it was clear the assault had been planned, precise in its timing and merciless in its execution.

At the forefront of the charge was Kingsley Shacklebolt, his deep voice calling out incantations with the force of a storm. His spells collided with the defenses of Lucius and the other Death Eaters, the air between them crackling with raw energy. Beside him, Mad-Eye Moody was a relentless force, his magical eye whirling as he shot off stunning spells at breakneck speed, taking down several lesser Death Eaters in quick succession. On the other side, the fierce duel between Bellatrix Lestrange and Frank sent furniture flying across the ballroom, the elder witch’s wild laughter rising above the din as she dodged and countered with terrifying speed.

In the midst of it all, Regulus as a stunning spell shot past him, narrowly missing his head, Regulus snapped into action. With swift precision, he deflected another curse, his movements fluid as he ducked through the chaos. Regulus was looking for Sirius. He was looking for James. He was looking for his brother's boyfriend.

He needed to save himself but them too.
He needed- but then a stupeficium came its way and he had to dodge it throwing himself to the ground, Arthur Weasley just tried to attack him?
Really?

As duels raged, the enchanted ceiling overhead began to crack under the strain of magic, a shattering starry sky falling in shards of glass as the protections of Malfoy Manor failed. The once-beautiful ballroom was now a battlefield, its marble floors scorched by fire and lightning. Tables overturned, tapestries were ripped apart by stray spells, and in the center of it all, the fight pressed on.

Before he could move further, a figure stepped into his path. Sirius.

His brother’s face, framed by dark, disheveled hair, but his brother didn't notice him, he was too occupied fighting against the patriarch of Goyle's family.
And for a moment, Regulus couldn't find the words. He knew this confrontation had been inevitable, but not like this, not now. Regulus' gaze flickered to the chaos around them, but it was not the right time. Sirius couldn't see him. Not now. Never.

Moody’s voice cut through the chaos: “Round them up! Don’t let a single one escape!” Narcissa Malfoy’s sharp eyes cut through the clashing spells and flying debris. Her composure, always a trademark of her aristocratic grace, was beginning to fray as she watched the once-immaculate surroundings burn under the relentless assault of the Order of the Phoenix. The elegant serpent-shaped ice sculpture lay shattered on the floor, the shards reflecting the flashes of spells like jagged pieces of broken stars.

Lucius was locked in a vicious duel with Kingsley Shacklebolt, barely holding his ground. Bellatrix’s maniacal laughter had turned into shrieks of rage as Frank and Moody pressed their attack.

In the shadows of the ballroom, Regulus caught sight of Narcissa coming through his way, with determination burning in her icy blue eyes, Narcissa turned sharply. Regulus got near her, trying to navigate the storm of curses and hexes. Without hesitation, she cut through the chaos, her silk gown flowing behind her like a dark shadow.

"Regulus!" He heard her calling, her voice carrying a command that sliced through the air. Before he could speak, she grabbed his arm, her grip firm. Her eyes, usually so composed, were filled with urgency and something Regulus had rarely seen in her: fear.

"Take Draco," she whispered fiercely, pulling him closer so that only he could hear. "You must get him out of here. Take him somewhere safe—anywhere—but don’t let him fall into their hands."

Regulus blinked, momentarily stunned. "Narcissa—"

"Please," she cut him off, her voice cracking with emotion she could no longer suppress. "He’s not ready for this. I don't what they’ll do if they take him." Her gaze flickered briefly toward Lucius, who was still battling desperately, but she knew it was a losing fight. "They’ll take him to Azkaban, Regulus. And then they’ll take my son."

"You'll not end up at Azkaban, Narcissa! Don't even say that-"

"I can't know the outcome of tonight. It's too uncertain. We're at a tide, we'll see. But Regulus!" Narcissa snapped her fingers in front of his face.
"Draco! You need to bring him out! I want my son safe!"

Regulus, felt the urgency in her tone and understood in that moment the gravity of what she was asking. Draco was her son, her only child, and no matter the cause, she would do anything to protect him. And Regulus was the same.
Draco and Harry were the same for him.
Not his children but almost.
He would fight the entire Order if it meant to keep Draco safe and- and NArcissa knew that too. For this she was trusting him with his son.

"I'll do it. I'll do everything you're trying to achieve by destroying the Dark Lord. But first you have to save Draco. He comes always first."

Regulus nodded. "He comes always first."
But this wasn’t about politics or power. It was about a boy—a boy who had no place in this war.

"Where is he?" Regulus asked, his voice low but steady, his decision made.

Narcissa’s relief was palpable. She turned quickly.
"In the bedroom. There are anti-apparition wards but Snape is already working on them. I'm not sure he'll be done in time so- I don't know. You're the genius here. But save Draco at all cost!"

"With my life, Narcissa. I swear it."

"I know." Narcissa looked at him one last him. "And now- go! Run!" She exclaimed, rejoicing the battlefield.
As Regulus fled into the dark corridors of Malfoy Manor, he knew the path ahead was dangerous and uncertain. But for the first time, he was running toward something of his own choosing. The night was far from over—but for Regulus Black, it had just begun. He run up the stairs that he knew more than his own home, barged in Draco's little bedroom.

The child was sleeping, sign that the war didn't reach his innocent ears.
He took the baby with delicacy, he couldn't- he didn't want- right now he was his responsibility.
"We need to get outside," Regulus muttered under his breath, half to himself, half to Draco, whose legs struggled to keep up.

They reached a hidden stairwell, the cold night air of the Malfoy Manor grounds bit at Regulus’ face as he sprinted through the darkened corridors, Draco cradled tightly in his arms. The baby, barely more than a few months old, whimpered softly, his pale blond hair tousled and wide gray eyes confused and frightened by the sudden commotion. Every instinct screamed at Regulus to get him out, to move faster, but the manor was enormous, and the chaos of battle had already spilled into the halls.

He pushed open a door leading to a smaller drawing room, one that had an entrance to the gardens beyond, and nearly collided with an overturned table. Behind him, the sounds of battle were deafening—explosions of magic, the cries of duels, and the heavy crashes of collapsing chandeliers. Every second, the fight came closer. He could feel the walls closing in. Regulus knew Apparition was out of the question—Draco was too small, too fragile for such a jarring form of escape, and besides, the Anti-Apparition wards still held strong.

No, he had only one choice.

Cradling Draco closer to his chest, Regulus rushed through a side door that led into the expansive gardens behind the manor. Rows of hedges stretched out before him, illuminated by the pale light of the moon that slipped between heavy clouds.

"What- what-" Regulus searched frantically for a solution.
"What can I use? What?" At the far end of the grounds, tucked behind a statue of a coiling serpent, was his broom. A sleek model he had used countless times before in far less dangerous circumstances.
"Oh Merlin- please- protect us." Regulus whispered to himself glancing again at the broom. He had been good. He had been the best seeker at Hogwarts- he- could he? With a baby?

The baby stirred, a small cry escaping him as the wind howled through the trees. Regulus murmured a soft shushing sound, trying to keep Draco calm. He had to keep his head clear—panic would get them both killed.

With a final glance back at the manor, where bursts of magic still flared through the windows, alright, I'll do it Regulus mounted the broom. He secured Draco to his chest with a quick enchantment, binding the baby to him with a protective charm that would keep him safe during the flight.

And then, with a swift kick, they were airborne.

The broom shot into the sky, cutting through the cold wind like a shadow. Regulus flew low at first, skimming the tops of the trees that surrounded the grounds, his heart pounding in his chest. His senses were heightened, his eyes flicking in every direction, searching for any sign of pursuit. The night was thick with tension. He knew they wouldn’t get far without being spotted—the Order wasn’t going to let anyone leave, especially not a Death Eater with Lucius Malfoy’s child.

It didn’t take long.

A flash of light caught his eye—a curse narrowly missing his broom, grazing the branches of a tall oak beneath him. Regulus swerved sharply, his body instinctively protecting Draco as he turned in midair to see three figures on brooms closing in on him from the direction of the manor. The Order had spotted him.

"Stop!" a voice shouted, amplified by magic. He recognized it immediately—Arthur Weasley, his voice usually kind, but now commanding and urgent. "Give us the child and surrender!"

"Over. My. Dead. Body" Regulus shouted, trying to overcome the wind who was working against them.

"You're at disadvantage. Give up and we'll not fight you!" Regulus almost laughed.
Wow- they were really nice. Sure.
Regulus tightened his grip on the broom handle. There was no time to think, only to act. He shot upward, streaking toward the clouds with a burst of speed, hoping to lose them in the night sky. But the Order wasn’t far behind. Another spell shot past him, missing by inches and exploding in a shower of red sparks.

Draco whimpered again, his tiny hands clutching at Regulus’ cloak. Regulus could feel the warmth of his body against his chest, reminding him of the stakes. He wasn’t just fighting for himself now—he was fighting to protect Narcissa’s child.
The thought strengthened his resolve.

Weaving through the clouds, he glanced behind him. Three brooms—Arthur Weasley, Emmeline Vance, and Sturgis Podmore—were in pursuit, their wands raised and eyes locked onto him. The air crackled with the energy of spells flying toward him, each one more dangerous than the last. He twisted and dodged, his movements fluid, but the strain was beginning to wear on him. Draco’s weight on his chest, though slight, added a layer of difficulty to every maneuver. He couldn’t afford a mistake.

Arthur, now almost level with him, raised his wand again. "Regulus, don’t do this! We don’t want to hurt you!"

Regulus’ jaw tightened, his grip on the broom fierce. "I won’t let you take him!" he shouted back, his voice hoarse against the wind.

With a quick flick of his wand, Regulus sent a Disarming Charm toward Arthur, but the older wizard blocked it easily, countering with a barrage of stunning spells that forced Regulus into a tight spiral downward, diving to avoid the attack. His broom shook as he plummeted toward the treetops, but he pulled up at the last second, skimming the branches and shooting back into the sky.

He wasn’t going to outrun them. He needed to fight.

A sudden burst of determination surged through him. With a sharp turn, he swung the broom around and flew directly toward his pursuers, surprising them with the sudden shift in strategy. Arthur barely had time to react as Regulus sent a powerful Blasting Curse directly toward him. The spell hit the tip of Arthur’s broom, sending him spinning out of control. Arthur swore loudly, managing to right himself, but Regulus was already moving again.

Emmeline Vance closed in on his other side, her wand raised, a streak of blue light shooting toward him. Regulus swerved, but the spell grazed his broom’s tail, sending sparks flying. His heart leapt into his throat as the broom wobbled for a moment, but he regained control, pushing higher into the clouds. Emmeline followed, her broom fast and agile, gaining on him with every second.

"Stupefy!" she shouted, and the stunning spell shot toward him, a bolt of red light cutting through the dark sky.

Regulus twisted sharply, the spell barely missing him, but he knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. His movements were growing sluggish, the weight of protecting Draco and the intensity of the pursuit draining his energy. Another spell from Sturgis Podmore flew past him, grazing his shoulder and sending a sharp pain down his arm.

There was only one option left. He had to lose them in the trees.

With a sudden drop, Regulus plunged toward the dense forest below, his broom streaking downward at a dangerous speed. The trees loomed closer, their dark branches like claws reaching up to snag him from the sky. Behind him, he heard Emmeline curse as she tried to follow, but the dense foliage was a dangerous obstacle. Regulus weaved between the trees, his broom inches from disaster with every turn, the wind whistling in his ears.

For a brief moment, it seemed like he might escape, but then—another flash of light.

Arthur Weasley, having regained his balance, sent a stunning spell straight toward him. Regulus’ heart raced as he yanked the broom upward, but the spell clipped his leg, sending a jolt of numbness through his body. He lost control for a second, the broom jerking violently.

Draco cried out, a small, frightened sound against the chaos.

Regulus gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain, and pulled the broom into a steep climb once more. The Order was still behind him, but the dense trees had slowed them down, buying him a precious few moments.

His mind raced. There was only one way out—if he could just reach the far side of the forest, beyond the manor’s wards, he could find safety. He glanced down at Draco, whose small face was buried in his cloak, trembling but unharmed.

Regulus took a deep breath and pushed the broom forward, flying faster than he ever had before. The trees blurred beneath him, the wind howling in his ears. Behind him, the shouts of his pursuers grew fainter, the bright flashes of their spells lost in the distance.

And then—silence.

Regulus burst free of the forest, the open night sky stretching out before him. He had made it. The Anti-Apparition wards were behind him now, and the open countryside stretched on. He could finally get Draco to safety.

With a deep sigh of relief, Regulus slowed the broom, his body aching from the strain of the chase. Draco whimpered softly against his chest, but Regulus whispered to him, calming the child with quiet words.

"You’re safe now," he murmured, his voice low and soft. "We’re safe baby."

--------------------------

The night had grown eerily quiet, the distant sounds of battle now fading into the backdrop of the cold countryside. The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting pale light across the dense forest that bordered the manor’s grounds. Remus Lupin, his wand at the ready, moved cautiously through the trees, his sharp senses on high alert. His heart was still racing from the fight at Malfoy Manor, the intensity of the battle leaving him on edge. The Order had broken through, but the cost had been high.

His breath misted in the cold air as he pressed on, moving further from the manor, scanning the darkness for any signs of stragglers. They had been tasked with ensuring no Death Eaters escaped, but Remus’ instincts told him something else was out there, something that hadn’t been accounted for.

It wasn’t long before his heightened hearing picked up something—a faint sound, a whimper. He froze, his ears straining to catch it again. It came from deeper in the woods. He moved quietly, weaving through the trees, until he reached a small clearing.

That’s when he saw him.

Slumped against a fallen tree, was Regulus Black. His once-pristine robes were torn and stained with blood, his face pale and drawn, a deep cut along his leg still bleeding sluggishly. But that wasn’t what stopped Remus in his tracks. In Regulus’ arms, wrapped tightly in his cloak, was a small bundle—a baby.

Draco.

Remus inhaled sharply, his wand still held at the ready. He hadn’t expected this. Regulus was the last person he thought he’d find, and the baby—Lucius Malfoy’s son—was the last person he thought Regulus would protect. Remus’ mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Why would Regulus be running, and with Draco of all people?

For a moment, Regulus didn’t move. He was breathing, but the rise and fall of his chest was shallow, and his head was slumped forward, dark hair falling across his face. It wasn’t until Remus took a cautious step forward that Regulus stirred, his eyes flickering open just slightly, glazed with exhaustion and pain.

"Stay—stay back," Regulus rasped, his voice hoarse, though there was little strength in the warning. His grip on Draco tightened, a weak but protective gesture, as if even in his state, he was ready to fight.

Remus knelt down slowly, keeping his wand lowered, his eyes softening. "I’m not going to hurt you, Regulus," he said quietly. "But you need help. Let me see the boy."

Regulus blinked, struggling to focus on Remus. His body trembled with the effort of staying conscious, but his arms refused to let go of Draco. "No!" He snapped at him. "I promised-" he muttered, his breath ragged from fatigue. "I promised her I woul keep him safe- you'll not take him" the strength in his voice was dangerous even if Regulus was limping on one leg.

"Who?" Remus asked gently, though he could guess. "Narcissa?"

Regulus gave the slightest nod, his gaze drifting down to Draco, who was thankfully asleep, undisturbed by the harsh reality around them. The baby’s small face peeked out from the folds of Regulus’ cloak, his soft blond hair catching the moonlight. Regulus’ voice cracked as he whispered, "He’s innocent. A baby. Like Harry."

Remus' heart clenched at the sight. Regulus Black—someone who had always seemed so firmly rooted in the darkness of their world—now sat here, cradling a child, having fought to protect him. It was clear now that Regulus had made his choice. This wasn’t about loyalty to the Dark Lord or the Death Eaters anymore. This was about something deeper—family, and the desire to save someone who couldn’t protect himself.

"Let me help you," Remus said again, his voice more urgent. "You’re injured. You can’t do this on your own. We're-" Remus tried, even though he didn't know what he was going to say. Friends? Alley? Companion? "Alley-" Right. That was right.

Regulus hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly as he weighed his options. There was a flicker of distrust, but he was too weak to argue. He had no choice.
"No. Never. Nevernevernevernevernever." With a pained sigh, Regulus kept Draco's body even nearer.

The baby stirred slightly.
"Came on Regulus-"Remus tried him with gentleness. Draco was small and for a brief moment, Remus couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation settle over him like a lead blanket. Here he was, trying to rescue the child of two Death Eaters—two people who would gladly see him dead under any other circumstances—but in this moment, none of that mattered. Draco was just a child, innocent and unaware of the world he’d been born into.

Regulus, on the other hand, was fading fast. Remus could see the exhaustion pulling him down, the deep gash on his leg causing him to lose more blood than was safe. There wasn’t much time.

"I need to get you help," Remus said firmly. "You won’t make it like this."

Regulus' head lolled back against the tree, his breaths shallow. He nodded slightly, his voice barely a whisper. "Draco is more important. I'll not go- to you- you-" Regulus winced when Draco started crying. "Oh no- no baby, it's okay. Mommy's not here- but it's okay-" Regulus started to singsong while he lulled him with his arms, all of his tiredness seemed to have fade away the moment Draco started to cry. "Twinkle twinkle little star-"

Remus’ brow furrowed thinking about a solution. "The Potters." He mumbled to himself. They were home watching Harry, they surely could help them.
Regulus would accept?
Yes because now wasn’t the time to argue. He couldn’t stay here in the open any longer, and Regulus needed medical attention. The Potter family had always been known for their kindness.

"I know where to go. Do you trust me?"

"I'd rather go home." Regulus seemed to have some strength left in his body and prepared himself to return. "To his home. He needs Cissa." Regulus explained, pointing at the crying baby.

"I think that it's better for you to go with me for some hours. Tomorrow you'll be in your house. I swear. Right now I don't know if it's safe-" Remus tried to say but maybe it wasn't the right thing, Regulus looked at him with an arched eyebrow, and his eyes bigger that the moon itself.

"They'll put everyone at Azkaban, right?" He asked, his voice almost small but ready for the worse situation. "Narcissa didn't do anything- Draco- Draco needs his mom. They'll never loved him like her." Remus cursed under his breath, he didn't think about that.

"I- I don't know Regulus-" Could he call him Reg? Was it too much? "But I don't think that-" uhm- "the attack went so well." It was strange to 'support' the Death Eater right now, he wanted them all gone but at the same time he couldn't say this to Regulus who could lose his most trusted cousin and Draco's mom so-
"Maybe they didn't capture them."

"I'll go and see-" Regulus said abruptly but Remus stopped him.

"You can't. It's still to dangerous. You need to protect Draco." Regulus watched the baby and the fact that he was holding to him like his entire life depended on it. Regulus seemed just so- right? With a child.
Anyone could see how much he tried to protect them, first Draco but even Harry.

"Come on! Do you trust me?"
No. He could see in Regulus' eyes but Remus already knew that, but Regulus was still bleeding and Draco could find much more shelters with Euphemia Potter, not that Regulus was being bad- he had done a lot for Draco given the dangerous situation, but Euphemia adopter all the Orders' kid and parents, she was the best of the best.

So Remus took them out of sudden and before Regulus could even flinch from his touch he brought them to the Potters, sure about his decision.

They vanished with a soft crack, leaving the shattered remnants of the night behind them, as they reappeared on the doorstep of the Potter home, where the true safety for Draco—and perhaps Regulus—awaited.