Velvet Bond

Regulus’ grip on the letter tightened, his mind racing as he reread James’ words. The Gaunt family. A potential Horcrux. This was the lead they had been waiting for. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He had been so stupid—of course something in that house had to be a Horcrux.
"They think there’s something in the Gaunt house, and it’s almost funny how obvious it is—why didn’t I realize it sooner?" He mentally slapped himself.

He needed to go. Now.
A look passed between Barty, Evan, and Regulus, and they knew instantly—they needed to go there as soon as possible.

But—

A sharp, sudden gasp broke through the tension, followed by the scrape of a chair against the floor.

Regulus’ head snapped up just in time to see Barty lurch forward, his hand clamping around his forearm, fingers digging into the blackened skin where the Dark Mark lay. His breathing had turned shallow, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful.

The room froze.

Evan was on his feet in an instant. A hand rested on his shoulder, fingers gently tracing his skin, a silent attempt to bring him comfort. “Barty?”

Barty let out a sharp breath through his teeth, shaking his head. “It’s fine Evs, don't worry.” Regulus and Evan exchanged a look—because no, it was not fine.

Regulus took a slow step forward, his voice carefully measured. “Is it him?”

Barty swallowed. Then, through gritted teeth, said, “Yes.”

Silence.
It was like the air had shifted, like something thick and unspoken had settled over them, pressing in from all sides.

Regulus’ thoughts moved too fast, too sharp, snapping through every possible scenario. Why now? Had Voldemort grown suspicious? Was he summoning Barty for a test, an interrogation-? Why not him? He was always the first to be summoned, because Regulus was the one who brought with him Barty and Evan, so what happened? What changed? Was Voldemort suspicious about him? And if he was suspicious about him was he going to use Barty against him? As a revenge? Was he going to kill everyone that happened to be tied to Regulus?

Or was something worse coming?

Evan was the first to break the silence, his voice tight. “You can’t ignore it.”

“I know,” Barty bit out. His fingers twitched where they clutched his arm, his body still tensed like a wire stretched too thin. Regulus knew that he was having the same thoughts too, why him? Why not Regulus?

Regulus exhaled sharply. This complicated things. A lot.
“We need to move,” he muttered, grabbing a fresh piece of parchment. If they were going to the Gaunt house, they needed to do it now, before this situation spiraled completely out of their control.
"Why you? Why now? Does Riddle know something? Did he find out about me? Is he trying to get to me through you? I don't like this Barty, he's- he's too unhinge. Mad.”

He dipped his quill into the ink, steadying his breath, and wrote:

James—
Meet me at dusk. Bring Lupin. We’re going to the Gaunt house.
- RAB

He tied the note to the owl’s leg, sending it off with a flick of his fingers—before he could second-guess himself. Now- now there was no turning back.

"I know, Reg. I like this,” Barty said, lifting his arm to show him. “As much as you do. But we can’t do anything about it. I have to go, and I’ll hear what he has to say. Like always. Like the puppet I am. We need to keep our cover up.” Regulus nodded.
They needed to keep their cover up.

“Hoping you’ll come back,” Evan whispered, his eyes filling with tears. Barty closed his own, probably thinking the same thing. “First my father, then-”

“No. No Evs. We don’t know,” Barty cut in. “With Regulus, he did nothing. And our boy here literally tried to kill him. Maybe he just wants to talk to me about something.”

Regulus grimaced, knowing full well that with Voldemort, it was never just a simple talk. But he held back from saying it in front of Evan. He wasn’t stupid—he knew it too. But saying it out loud? That made it real. Too real.

Barty let out a harsh breath, finally releasing his arm, rolling his shoulder like he was trying to shake off the pain. His face was set, unreadable, but Regulus knew better.
"So are you going with Potter? Are you sure it's the right call?"

Evan was still watching him, expression hard, hands twitching like he wanted to grab Barty and shake him, demand to know if he was actually okay. Instead, he just exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.
"They're the first that came into my mind" Regulus shrugged, his eyebrows arched, unsure. "And I need some back up, they're capable enough, I hope. Remus surely is. James- well-"

“I’m coming with you,” Evan spoke suddenly, decisively. He probably didn’t want to be left alone at home, worrying about his boyfriend out there with a mad psychopath.
But Regulus couldn’t let Evan go with him.

Regulus turned, already shaking his head. “No, you’re not.”

Evan’s eyes flashed. “Like hell I’m not.”

Regulus let out a slow breath, keeping his voice even. “If something happens to me, someone needs to be here.”

Evan’s jaw clenched. “Barty’s the one being called by him, not you.”

“Exactly,” Regulus said pointedly. “If Voldemort has started to suspect something, we can’t afford to-" die? Someone had to continue the research and Evan was the only one who knew enough. "If something happens to me or Barty- We need someone to stay behind.”

Evan’s hands curled into fists. “You don’t get to just make that decision.”

“I do,” Regulus said, firmly. “And you know I’m right.”

Evan’s nostrils flared, his whole body tense, but he didn’t argue—because he did know. Barty was nodding behind him, extending a hand that Evan eagerly took.
He hated it, but he knew.

Evan's gaze flickered between them- Regulus, already focused on the plan, and Barty, who was now rolling his wrist like he was preparing for a duel, something sharper in his expression.
Then, finally, Evan exhaled through his teeth and stepped back.

“Fine,” he muttered. Then, pointing a finger at Regulus, and then at Barty he added, “But if you die. If any of you die, I’m going to kill you.”

Regulus smirked. “Noted.”

Barty rolled his eyes. “Merlin, you two are dramatic. I'll be fine, love, ready to come home for you, just wait for me.” Barty winked at him, spreading a kiss.

Evan shot him a look. “Oh, fuck off, Barty. You’re literally about to walk into a meeting with a mass-murdering megalomaniac, and Regulus is about to go crawl into some Dark magic-infested snake den, so excuse me for being a little bit on edge.”

Barty opened his mouth, then shut it.
Because—yeah. Fair point.

Regulus, meanwhile, was already moving, grabbing his cloak, checking his wand, his mind already ahead of them, already in the Gaunt house, already calculating every possible move. "Good luck, guys- hope to see you soon.”
Barty nodded, lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze serious, but his eyes burned with fierce determination.
Evan squeezed Barty’s hands tightly, maybe searching for support, and gave him a small nod in return.

“See you, Reggie. I’ll be waiting-” and Regulus smiled at them before disappearing.

The Gaunt house was dying.

It was more than abandoned- it was decayed, rotting from the inside out, its very foundations sinking into the earth like it had given up trying to remain standing. The house leaned unnaturally, its wood blackened with age and damp, the thatched roof long since caved in. Ivy had twisted itself around the crumbling stone walls, choking what little remained, as if nature itself had tried to swallow it whole to erase the stain of what had been left behind.The air was thick, damp with the weight of something old, something unnatural, something that hummed beneath the surface of this place like a memory that refused to die.

Regulus inhaled deeply through his nose, letting it sink into him. He had been right. The Dark Magic here was old, tangled in the very sinew of the place—woven into the walls, buried in the foundation, pulsing beneath the land like a restless ghost. The Gaunts had withered and died, but their legacy remained, festering in the silence they left behind.

And he could feel it.
That connection- the one he had spent days trying to suppress- came surging back, clawing its way into him. And with it came visions, dreams, nightmares. They streaked through his mind like omens, images of a life long past, a life lived- but not by him.

By others.
Greater, darker, crueler.
Regulus shook his head, trying to regain his focus, but the memories dragged him under, drowning him in a tide of pain and echoes.

Tom, young and hungry.
Tom, surrounded, but alone.
His mother. The curse she had cast upon Riddle’s father. The arguments, the unease, the whispered maledictions.
The past bled into him, relentless and inescapable.

And then- a hand on his shoulder.

Regulus nearly screamed.
But James let go immediately- maybe remembering their history, his aversion to sudden touch, maybe realizing just how terrified he was.

James, standing a few feet away, wrinkled his nose, as if nothing had happened and Regulus was grateful for that. “Merlin’s balls, this place is a disaster.”

Regulus shot him a look, trying to pull himself together, to restore the coldness in his gaze. “Oh, brilliant observation, Potter. What gave it away? The rotting walls, or the overwhelming scent of centuries-old failure?”

James huffed, a little smile at the end of his mouth. “Just saying, if I were a megalomaniacal Dark Lord, I’d pick somewhere less depressing to stash a piece of my soul.”

Regulus smirked, dry and sharp. “Well, fortunately, you’re not a megalomaniacal Dark Lord.” He paused, then added, “Though, with that over-inflated Gryffindor ego, it’s sometimes hard to tell.”

James shot him a glare. “Oh, piss off. And stop insulting my Gryffindor ego, it's perfectly fine just the way it is.”

Regulus sighed, shaking his head dramatically. “This is what I get for working with amateurs.”

Remus, standing off to the side, pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly already exhausted. “Yeah- right. Who found this place? Oh right- me.”

James pointed at him. “That’s a fair point.”

Regulus scoffed. “Oh, please. I would have figured it out eventually.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Right, because you’ve been so forthcoming with your knowledge.”

Regulus smirked. “I have my ways.”

James rolled his eyes before turning back to the house, scowling. “Are we sure it’s even here?”

Regulus exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to hex him. “Yes, we’re sure. Or well- I’m pretty sure. Are you not confident enough about your source?” He pointed a look at Remus, lifting his chin.

James rolled his eyes. “Well, excuse me for wanting to confirm before we walk into a house that looks like it’ll kill us on principle.”

Regulus gave him an exaggeratedly sweet look. “What’s the matter? Scared?”

James scoffed. “Not scared. Just-” He waved a hand vaguely at the house. “It’s ominous. Even for you.”

Regulus smirked. “I take that as a compliment.”

James made a face, running a hand through his hair the way he always did when he was stressed. “Yeah, I bet you do.”

Despite his constant irritation, despite the endless banter, Regulus found himself biting back something dangerously close to amusement.
James Potter was insufferable- loud, arrogant, too damn righteous for his own good- but Regulus would be lying if he said he didn’t… appreciate this. The fact that James was here, that he was willing to follow him into a place like this. That he was still trying, even after everything.
Regulus had missed this—missed them. He missed their time at Hogwarts, when James, in his own stubborn way, had tried to make his life a little less miserable, a little less heavy. Not that Regulus would ever admit it. Not to anyone.
Especially not to James.

Regulus glanced at him for a moment, something unreadable in his expression, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the house.

Time to focus.

“This is definitely the place,” he said, lifting his hand, turning the silver of his ring so the crest of the Black family caught the dim light. “All pureblood families have them- recognition rings, heirlooms. Some enchanted, some not, but they all serve a purpose.” James blinked, then glanced at his own hand- bare. James had never worn a Potter ring, had never even thought about it before, but now that Regulus had pointed it out, he must have realized that Regulus was right.

Because James' family had one. His father had worn it, his grandfather before him. It wasn’t something he had ever cared about, but it had been there. A mark of history, of inheritance. And the Gaunts- descended from Salazar Slytherin himself- would have had one too.

James arched his eyebrows, his eyes flickering between the ring and the ruined house. “So- You think Voldemort turned his family’s ring into a Horcrux. I mean maybe it could be a necklace, a bracelet- or what else? A book?”
James hesitated, Remus eyed them, thinking deeply but Regulus' the logic was solid. It simply made sense. Voldemort was obsessed with lineage, with legacy, with leaving pieces of himself behind. A family ring- his family ring- would have been the perfect object to tie himself to.

Regulus didn’t think.
He knew. “I’m sure of it. And we already have a book as a Horcrux, a diary, to be precise. Voldemort wouldn’t repeat himself- it has to be his family’s ring.”

James let out a slow breath. “Well, that’s just brilliant. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

“Obviously,” Regulus muttered, with Voldemort nothing was easy.
Then, shifting slightly, he glanced at Remus, who had been too quiet.
Regulus didn’t miss the way his jaw was tight, the way his eyes hadn’t stopped scanning him since they arrived. There was something calculating in the way Remus was watching him, something concerned, something Regulus wasn’t sure he could handle right now.

Finally, after a long pause, Remus spoke.
“If it’s here—and I doubt it, because I wouldn’t leave something so precious in a place like this,” he said slowly, carefully, “and if it is- it’s not going to be unguarded.”

Regulus nodded, voice even. “Obviously.” He thought for a moment about the cost at which the Hufflepuff Cup had come into his hands, and a chill ran down his spine. He almost died down there, the dragon, the burning gold, Bellatrix- it had been terrible.

Remus exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “And what exactly is the plan when we find it?”

Regulus hesitated, just for a fraction of a second.

Remus caught it immediately.

James, still oblivious to the tension, frowned. “We take it and get the hell out, obviously.”

Regulus exhaled slowly, voice measured. “It won’t be that easy.”

Remus’ expression darkened. “Why? We know nothing about this- unlike you.” He arched an eyebrow and levelled an unimpressed look at the man. A dog searching for a bone.

Regulus’ fingers tightened slightly around his wand.
“Because if it’s anything like the Cup- or the others, I think… it will require a sacrifice. Or something like that. But if there’s no guardian- unlike the Horcrux I already possess- then it means something else is protecting the ring. A curse probably.”

The air shifted.

James blinked, running again a hand in his hair. “Oh, fuck off.”

Remus’ entire body tensed, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “No. Absolutely not.” He already knew. Always too smart for his own good.

Regulus sighed, already anticipating this reaction. “Remus-”

“No,” Remus snapped, stepping closer. “You’re already pushing yourself too far. You’ve been-” He stopped himself, visibly trying to rein it in, before continuing in a lower, sharper voice. “You’re not in any shape to be doing this.”

Regulus straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin slightly. “I don’t need to be at full strength to find a ring.”

Remus’ gaze didn’t waver. “Not to find it,” he agreed. “But to take it. And you know it, perfectly well.” Regulus wanted to roll his eyes but he refrained himself in doing so. He wasn't a damsel in distress, Regulus was in this long before them so he knew the risks and he knew what it could take. Regulus wasn't an idiot.

James’ stomach dropped. “That true?”

Regulus hesitated. Then, carefully, he nodded. “Yes.” His mouth was drawn tight, as if he was holding back a grimace.

James swore under his breath.
Remus exhaled slowly, like he was trying to steady himself. “Then we need to reconsider this.”

Regulus squared his shoulders, thoughts racing. He thought about Barty, about the fact that Voldemort had called him- for what? He thought about the too little time and too many things left to do. Voldemort grew closer to victory every day, and Regulus couldn’t afford to waste any more time. “No. No we don’t.”

Remus’ patience was cracking. “Regulus, listen to me-”

“No, you listen,” Regulus snapped. “I have done this before. I know what it takes. I know what I’m risking.” His voice lowered, but didn’t lose its edge. “And I’m still going to do it.”

Remus clenched his jaw. “It could kill you, can't you understand it?”

Regulus smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve risked that.”

James let out a harsh breath. “Well, that’s not fucking reassuring.”

Remus took a slow, measured breath, restraining himself from shaking some sense into him. “This isn’t a game,” he said, voice calm but dead serious.

Regulus’ expression remained cold, steady. “I never said it was. I already said that I know what it takes.”

Another tense silence.
James groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “I hate this plan.”

Regulus smirked. “Noted. And dismissed.”

James let out a frustrated groan. “Merlin, you’re worse than Sirius.”

Regulus’ expression flickered just for a second. Something too quick to read. Then it was gone.

Remus, though, saw it.
And that- that was why he didn’t want him doing this.
Because Regulus wasn’t just determined. He wasn’t just focused.
He was willing to throw himself into fire and call it strategy.

And that- that was dangerous.

But Regulus was already turning toward the house, wand in hand, his expression set, his mind already miles ahead of them. “Come on,” he said, stepping forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

James let out another slow breath, casting one last look at Remus before following.
Remus exhaled sharply, clearly not convinced, but when Regulus turned toward the house, he didn’t stop him.

Instead, he followed.

And the deeper they moved into the woods, the heavier the air became, thick with something unseen, something ancient that pressed against their skin like invisible hands dragging them back. The landscape twisted around them—trees gnarled and rotting, their branches curled inward like skeletal fingers, the ground uneven and unnatural, damp with something that smelled of decay.

Dark magic lingered everywhere, embedded in the very bones of the land.
Regulus could feel it, thrumming beneath his skin, a presence he had long since learned to recognize—one that called to him in a way that shouldn’t feel so familiar, so inevitable.

It was like the Horcrux had been waiting for him.

“I feel it,” he murmured, the words barely above a breath.

James turned to look at him, frowning. “What?”

Regulus’ gaze locked on the house ahead, his pulse thrumming beneath his skin. “The Horcrux. It’s… calling.”

James blinked, looking at him like he had just announced he could speak Parseltongue. “Calling?”

Remus’ expression tightened. “That’s not a good sign.”

Regulus shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

James let out a slow breath, fingers twitching toward his wand. “Right. That’s deeply unnerving.” Regulus ignored him, focusing instead on the pull, letting it guide him forward. Every step he took felt heavier, like something was watching, waiting for him to get close enough.

The ruins of the house loomed ahead now, barely visible through the thick mist curling around its edges. But the closer they got, the more wrong the air around them became—charged, waiting, like an inhale held too long.

James slowed his pace. “I don’t like this.”

Regulus didn’t respond.
Because he did. He recognized this kind of magic. He understood the way it wrapped around him, whispering at the edges of his mind, trying to lure him in.

Dark magic wasn’t loud. It wasn’t violent.

It was patient. It was seductive.

And this—this was magic that had been waiting for years.

James must have noticed the look on his face, because his voice sharpened. “Regulus—?”

“I’m fine,” Regulus cut in, eyes still fixed ahead.

James did not look convinced.

Remus, walking a few paces behind them, muttered, “Let’s just get this over with.”

And then—

The house reacted.

The second Regulus stepped forward, something in the air shifted, a crackling pulse of ancient magic rippling through the ground. The temperature dropped suddenly, the trees around them shuddering as if caught in a storm that wasn’t there.

James swore, instinctively tightening his grip on his wand. “That’s not ominous at all.”

Regulus froze, senses flaring.

Magic lived in this place.

It was woven into the very foundations of the land, buried in the earth, waiting for anyone stupid enough to trespass.

And then—

The first trap was sprung.

James took one step forward—

And the ground ignited beneath him.

A runic sigil flared to life, glowing an unnatural green, the symbols curling and twisting across the dirt in a language so ancient Regulus barely had time to process what it meant before—

“James, move!” Regulus lunged, grabbing the front of James’ robes and yanking him backward just in time.

A thick, black mist erupted from the runes, curling up from the earth like poisoned smoke, moving fast—too fast—toward where James had been standing.
James, now half-sprawled on the ground from the force of Regulus’ pull, barely had time to catch his breath before he was choking on the acrid scent of corruption.

“What the fuck was that?” he coughed, scrambling back.

Regulus’ heart hammered against his ribs. Hard. Hard enough that he could feel it everywhere, like his pulse had been set on fire.
He wasn’t sure what terrified him more—the trap itself, or how instinctively he had reacted.

Because for that one second—when he had seen James step forward—

Panic had gripped him.

Real, sharp panic. And he had moved without thinking, with no plan, no logic, just the overwhelming, gut-punching certainty that he couldn’t let James get hurt.
Even now, his hands were still clenched around James’ robes, like his body hadn’t quite caught up to his mind yet.

Fuck.

He forced himself to let go. Forced his face into something neutral. He couldn’t afford this. Not now.

Not ever.

He inhaled sharply, voice steady when he finally spoke.

“Venom.”

James’ head snapped up. “What?”

Regulus exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus. “The runes—they’re old protection sigils, but they’ve been corrupted. Whoever put them here layered them with Dark magic—poison-based curses.”

Remus swore, his wand already raised, eyes flickering over the sigils. “You’re saying that thing was going to melt him from the inside out?”

Regulus didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

James, still catching his breath, muttered, “That’s fucking fantastic.”

Regulus turned to him, his expression unreadable. “If I hadn’t pulled you back in time, you would have been dead before you could finish that sentence.”

James blinked.

Remus’ jaw tightened. “How many more of these do you think there are?”

Regulus exhaled, scanning the ground, his mind racing. “Too many.”

James let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “Wonderful. Just brilliant. Love that for us.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “If you could refrain from throwing yourself onto every single deadly trap, that would be ideal.”

James groaned, rubbing his face. “Merlin, you sound like I fell on that on purpose.”

Regulus scoffed, crossing his arms. “Knowing you, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

James shot him a glare, still rubbing his face. “Oh, sure. I woke up this morning and thought, You know what would be fun? Nearly dying.”

Regulus smirked. “Sounds on brand.”

James huffed, dropping his hand. “Glad to know my suffering is so entertaining to you.”

Regulus tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “Well, it is a little funny. “Well, someone has to keep you alive.” And then he smirked it off, trying not to think too much about James’ gaze lingering on his lips—those lips that once brushed against his with care.

Alright.

Stop.

James hesitated, his expression shifting just slightly, still eyeing his lips, and eyes, and- but before he could respond, Remus cut in. “We need to move,” he said, his voice firm. “And we need to assume everything here is cursed.”

Regulus nodded, already adjusting his grip on his wand, his mind now working overtime to map out the safest possible way forward.

“Step where I step,” he said, voice calm but unyielding. “And don’t touch anything unless I say so.”

James muttered, “Oh, great, now I have to play follow the leader with little Lord Black.”

Regulus smirked, stepping forward. “Try to keep up, Potter.”

And with that, they continued toward the house- The inside of the Gaunt house was a tomb.

Dust hung thick in the air, catching in their throats, settling over the remnants of a life long since forgotten. The walls, covered in deep cracks, had once been marked with runes—some carved in a language so ancient even Regulus barely recognized them. Whatever their original purpose had been—protection, power, warning—it had long since been corrupted.

The magic here wasn’t just old. It was rotting.

Regulus inhaled slowly, letting the weight of it sink into his lungs, letting himself feel it. The Horcrux was close. He could feel it- like a thread pulling at his ribs, curling through his veins, leading him somewhere deeper into the house. Probably, it was his connection to Voldemort calling him back, as if he belonged to that place, as if he's meant to find them, to use them, to become a part of them.

James coughed beside him, waving a hand in front of his face to clear the dust. “Alright, this is disgusting.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and Remus chuckled. “Yes, James, we noticed, thanks.”

James scowled, his wand raised, scanning the collapsed furniture and the darkened doorways. “So, what, we’re just going to wander around this death trap until something tries to kill us?”

Regulus turned his head, giving him a pointed look and crossing his arms. “Yes Jam- Potter- That is exactly what we’re going to do.”

James exhaled sharply. “I hate this plan. And can you call me James, it's quite rude, you know? We knew each other pretty well.” Regulus froze, unable to find the right answer to that. Why was he referring to that? Was he talking about that? The forbidden argument? Was he out of his mind? Maybe it was the adrenaline, the dark magic pulling some madness out of him-

Remus, standing off to the side, was running his fingers lightly over a carved symbol on the wall, his expression thoughtful. “We should split up.” He looked directly at him and Regulus shrugged unsure. He wanted to be there when they found the Horcrux, to either save them or prevent them from falling under its curse.

James snapped his head toward him. “That is the worst possible idea.”

Remus ignored him. “The Horcrux will be hidden somewhere significant. Voldemort wouldn’t have just left it lying around. We’ll cover more ground if we-”

“No,” James cut in sharply, glaring now. “We’re not splitting up.” Wow- James could be such a bad ass when he wanted to.

And that’s why Regulus scoffed—it was almost instinctive, a way to rile him up. “What, afraid of the dark, Potter?”

James’ eyes flashed, but his voice remained firm. “I don’t trust this place.” He lingered in the doorway, hesitating, clearly unsure of what to do next. His hands were slightly clenched at his sides, and his shoulders were stiff, like he was trying his best to remain calm. And Regulus could understand him—it was terrifying. Extremely terrifying. And James, contrary to what Regulus always told him, wasn’t stupid or naïve. He knew full well the danger they were facing.

Remus sighed. “You don’t have to trust it. Just search it.”

James muttered something under his breath, but when both Regulus and Remus ignored him, he groaned dramatically and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if one of you gets cursed, I’m going to be insufferable about it.”

Regulus smirked. “What a relief. I was so worried about you not being insufferable.”

James scowled, making a weird face at him. “I take it back. I hope you get cursed, Black.”

They split off—James toward the remains of what must have been the kitchen, Remus through a hallway lined with faded portraits, and Regulus deeper into the main chamber, where the remnants of an ancient hearth stood crumbling against the far wall.

The deeper he went, the stronger the pull of the Horcrux became.
The magic in this place wasn’t just lingering—it was alive, thick in the air, pressing against his skin like an invisible hand, guiding him somewhere specific.
Regulus scanned the room, his fingers twitching at his sides, his mind already running through possibilities.

A ring. A family heirloom.

It would be somewhere hidden—somewhere important.

The hearth.

His gaze locked onto the fireplace, its bricks charred and cracked, long since abandoned. If the Gaunts had kept anything of value, anything of sentimental weight, it wouldn’t have been locked away in a vault.

It would have been here.
He moved forward, brushing a hand lightly over the edge of the mantle, feeling for any traces of magic.

Nothing.

Regulus frowned.

Then—

A creak behind him.

He turned sharply, wand raised—

Only to see Remus step into the room, eyes flicking over him carefully.

Regulus exhaled. “Find anything?”

Remus shook his head, grimacing unsatisfied. “Nothing useful, just dust and broken things scattered around. A roof tile nearly dropped on my head, but hey—it could be worse. You?”

Regulus turned back toward the hearth, sensing something. “Maybe.” He eyed carefully at that, pointing it at Remus with his head.

Remus stepped closer, his gaze following Regulus’ line of sight. “You think it’s here?”

Regulus nodded. “I think it’s—”

A sharp intake of breath from the hallway.
Both of them turned immediately.

James.

James, James, James. His mind screaming his name.
James must came first. Nothing else mattered. He started this war for him and Harry, so fuck it all. Regulus moved first, his pulse kicking up, following the sound of James’ footsteps, moving fast, too fast—

Then—

“I found it.” James’ voice came from inside a half-collapsed room, his figure barely visible through the broken doorway.
Regulus reached him in seconds, stepping through the dust-filled air- his mind was screaming James, James, James. What a sap- insulting James one moment, then running to save him the next, but James had always been his weakness, even if he tried not to let it show.

And froze.

There, half-buried beneath a collapsed shelf, sat a small wooden box, its edges blackened with age and magic.

Regulus felt it before he saw it.

A whisper at the edge of his mind. A curling sense of awareness.
The Horcrux. The string pulled him towards the object and was screaming, screaming, screaming in his head, showing him vision, memories of the past-

James hesitated, his eyes flicking toward him, the uncertainty clear in their depth. Regulus wanted nothing more than to hold him, to reassure him, to make him forget all the bad things that had happened in the past. And maybe—maybe at Hogwarts, he could have done that. But now? Now it was impossible. There was a wall between them, a fence, a field of scorched earth—burnt by broken promises, shattered trust, and a fate far too cruel. “This is it, isn’t it?”

Regulus didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
Because he already knew. Regulus gripped his head, closing his eyes, don't, don't, don't- he couldn't fall victim of that.

Remus stepped into the room, his gaze narrowing on the box. “Alright. We found it, I can fell- the darkness coming from it. So what’s the plan?” And that snapped Regulus awake. His vision cleared, his mind free. Finally.

James reached forward, stretching his hand to touch the object and something screamed again in Regulus' mind again, danger, danger, danger. “We just-”

“Don’t.” Regulus’ voice cut through the air sharp.

James stilled immediately, his fingers inches from the box. He turned his head, frowning. “Reg, we came here for this—”

“If something happens to you- to either of you” Regulus said, his voice calm but final, “Sirius- everyone- will lose his mind.” James tensed immediately, his expression shifting, and Remus… Remus’ jaw clenched, his gaze flickering between Regulus and the box between them. The words landed heavy between them, pressing into the air like a physical force.

And Regulus—Regulus hated saying it, hated acknowledging that Sirius would care more about what happened to Remus or James than he ever had about him.
But that didn’t make it less true. So he didn’t take it back.

Remus exhaled slowly, straightening. “Then what do you suggest?”

Regulus held his gaze, unwavering. “I’ll do it.” He took another step forward, scanning the small wooden box with careful, calculating eyes.

James’ expression shifted. “No.”

Regulus exhaled sharply. “It won’t react to me the same way it will to you.” And he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure James or himself.

James scoffed, frustration breaking through his voice. “That is the most pureblood elitist bullshit I have ever heard.”

Regulus gave him a flat look. “I just—” He shrugged, raising his eyebrows, thinking hard. “I think he won’t react the same way with me.”

James scoffed, clenching his jaw, but didn’t answer. Remus did the same. It was almost moving, seeing how both of them cared about him—a Death Eater, someone who had killed, tortured, and crucified people. They were true Gryffindors at heart—because he highly doubted anyone else—Dumbledore, Moody, Weasley—would offer him the same help and care so eagerly. Once again, Regulus saw what Sirius had found in them, a real family.

“I’m serious,” Regulus continued, glancing indirectly at his hand where the string lay. He wondered—what would happen if he shared a connection with Voldemort? Surely, the curse couldn’t work the same way on him. He had to be protected. Must be.
No one said anything else and Regulus took that as agreement.

Remus, still watching him carefully, exhaled through his nose. “Are you sure? We can find other solutions."

Regulus didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

James wasn’t convinced. “Regulus please. Wait a damn minute alright? I can't afford to lose you like-”
But before he could finish-

Regulus stepped forward and took the ring.