Day Eighteen
He stares at the parcel nervously, every inch of him wanting to open it, yet he can’t.
“I just don’t understand,” Harry murmurs, fiddling with the twine. “Why Regulus?”
“There’s only one way to find out, Harry,” Hermione sighs.
“Alright,” he sighs. “Here we go,”
He undoes the twine and sets the letter to the side before gently opening the box. Inside lay a few things stacked neatly on top of each other. A paper crane, a gold ring on a chain, a journal, and a stack of letters, but his eyes land on a photo. It’s his parents, clearly young, maybe still at Hogwarts, their arms wrapped around a shorter boy with long black hair. He watches in amazement as the boy leans up and mutters something in his dad's ear. His dad laughs at whatever’s said and then kisses the boy. His mum frowns, but clearly, it's playful, and both boys grin before pouncing on her, showering her face with kisses.
He watches in shock a few more times just to make sure he’s seeing things properly.
“What is it?” Ron asks, leaning over his shoulder to see what shocked him. “What the- is that your parents?”
“Yes,” Harry says, his eyes transfixed with every movement in the picture. “And I think- I think that’s Regulus,”
“Oh my,” Hermione gasps.
He scrambles for the letter that had been attached to the top and opens it, desperate for answers.
Hello Harry,
My sweet, beautiful boy. If you’re anything like your father, you opened the box first and saw the photo. If you’re like your mother, you’re reading this. Either way, I expect you want answers.
My hope is that you already have them. That you’re living happily with your parents who have told you all about me and that the dark lord is nothing more than a villain in a fairytale. I hope that you are not what I fear you are. I hope that the mission I have given myself is enough to save you. If you do, then may this letter be a testament to how much I love you. If you do not, then may it be a window into how loved you are by all three of us.
Yes, Harry. The three of us.
I’d always been in love with James. Lily came later, but rest assured, Harry, I love them. I love them with every fiber of my being. I thought I held a record for loving them until they placed you in my arms for the first time, and I realized nothing could ever match how much I love you.
I remember the first time Sirius came home for Christmas, talking about his best friend, James Potter. Our mum didn’t like that. I saw how happy Sirirus was, and I was filled with envy. I, too, wanted to escape the nightmare of our home, but I had to wait another year.
I remember the first time I saw James. He was laughing with Peter about something as Sirius dragged me into the compartment. You’d think he would be too cool to let me hang out with his friends, but Sirius hoped they could be a good influence on me. Your father was if you’ll excuse my gory details, stunning. He had this stupid grin on his face, and his hair was a wreck, and it was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.
How devastated I was when I was sorted into Slytherin.
The first time I saw your mum was from across the great hall. I’m not too ashamed to admit I was studying your father intensely, and he was studying her. I wanted to know what could cause him to be so enamored, and my heart was shattered. So goes to say, I didn’t like your mum much at first.
I was obsessed with James until I was 13 and he was 14, and Sirius finally told me I was being a bit much. I felt so embarrassed I started pretending that I didn’t care about your dad at all, though I still did. That’s when your mum decided I was an excellent person to be around. She was around a lot, you know, hanging out with Severus.
She’s persistent, Lily is. She saw a broken boy, and like James had taken on Sirius, she took on me. I didn’t even think I liked girls; I was always fascinated with boys until your mum shone her sunshine on me. I craved her presence, her steadfastness, her wit. When Severus turned on her, I punched him.
We both hung out with the wrong crowd, Severus and me. The difference was I didn’t have a choice. My mother had spies everywhere in Slytherin, cousins and friends hoping to kiss up to her on behalf of their parents. Any wrong move, any sign I was becoming like Sirius, was stamped down. Lily knew this, I think. While she never liked the people I hung out with, she never got angry at me like she did with him.
Of course, I never believed in their dark magic
shitcrap like Sev did.In fifth year, I started talking to James again. Sirius was making new efforts to be a good brother, spurred on by his disownment, desperate to save me. The four of them made an effort to spend time with me. I thought I was over him now that I had Lily, but it was only worse for some reason. Sometimes, I thought he felt the same way, but then he’d look at Lily, and I knew I was wrong.
How your parents fell in love isn’t my story to tell; it’s a complicated one, and Lily tells it much better than I do. I was heartbroken, of course. The two people I loved were in love with each other, and I was alone.
In my sixth year, I got in a fight, a bad one, and my injuries were made worse by trying to pretend like I was on a side I did not believe in. One of the older boys realized I wasn’t trying and turned on me instead of the other children he was bullying. I woke up in the hospital wing to James and Lily comforting each other at my bedside. When they realized I was awake, well, let’s just say everyone’s feelings became clear.
That year was the happiest of my life. Even though we were hiding from everyone, even Sirius. He found out eventually. Thought it was a bit weird, but if it meant I wasn’t going to become a death eater, then he was fine with it.
And then they graduated. And I was left alone. That train ride to seventh year was the worst moment of my life. When I got to school, Dumbledore approached me and asked me to infiltrate the death eaters in the Slytherin house. He knew I didn’t have a choice anyway. It was only a matter of time before my young body would be marked by the skull and snake. He taught me Occlumency so I could hide if needed.
Lily was furious when she found out. I never knew why she joined the Order of the Phoenix. She never fully trusted Dumbledore. I missed them terribly that year, but I did my job well. I thought once I graduated, things would be better, but I was wrong. Our moments became shorter, more stolen, and slipped in between missions and meetings on both sides. Sirius shouted at them a lot, asking why they still loved me… we couldn’t tell him what Dumbledore had asked. You know how he is.
James and Lily’s wedding almost tore us apart. I couldn’t go, even as a guest, when they both wanted me there as an equal. To stand at that altar with them and promise myself for all of time and magic. I wanted it as well, but it was too dangerous. The next time I saw them, they surprised me with our own ceremony on their living room floor. They had a ring and everything, can you believe it? Your dad is a hopeless romantic you know.
If you’re reading this panicking, I’m going to tell you I’m really your father, please don’t. I can assure you with quite certainty that you are James’ son, though I hope I’ve rubbed off on you a little. You are my son just as much as you are theirs, though I’ve been a horribly absent father, I know.
Inside the box is everything I have of them. Every journal page, every trinket, every letter… even my ring. I’d do anything for you, my sweet boy, and I’m about to. There is something I can do, I hope it will be enough, and I’m going to take the chance. Your parents have no idea. I hope they don’t hate me. I hope they can heal.
I love James like I love the sea. He is crashing and enveloping, drawing you in so much love you don’t know how to breathe. I love Lily like I love the forest. Unmoving, unwavering, protecting you from any rainstorm, no matter how small. I love you, Harry like I love the stars. A magical expanse of possibility that I can only dream of seeing up close one day.
I hope that you are with them now. That they can hug you and kiss you and give you my love. If not, I hope you have found someone who might hold you if you cry, kiss your tears away, and love you as we do. Perhaps even, you’ve followed in our footsteps. You’ve found your own James and Lily, your ocean and forest. I hope someday you get your stars.
And Harry? If what I’ve done is not enough, I’m sorry. If you’ve had to do the unthinkable, the unspeakable, I’m so, so, sorry. I regret that I let the world push me into the wrong side of this fight. In part, I feel responsible for the burden that might have been on your shoulders, and I am sorry I am not there to bear it.
I love you, my sweet boy.
Dad
Harry looks up from the letter in shock. He had been passing the pages to Hermione as he read, and her to Ron. So he waits for them to finish, processing what he’s just read. When Hermione passes the last page to Ron, her eyes are full of tears, and she hugs Harry tightly.
When Ron finishes, he stands to pace, a confused and angry look on his face. “It’s not fair, mate,” he finally says. “It’s not fair,”
“What isn’t?” Harry asks, barely more than a whisper.
“That you have another person to grieve,” he explains, dropping to his knees in front of Harry, and taking his hand. “Another parent to mourn,”
“No,” Harry mumbles, feeling numb. “No, it’s not,”
He reaches into the box, takes out the ring on a chain, and slips it over his neck, much like he had once done with another piece of gold jewelry. “He did it for me,” he says, his voice threatening to crack with tears. “He wrote this before- before he went to get the locket. He died because of-”
“Don’t,” Hermione says, squeezing him tighter. “Don’t do that, Harry. Don’t do it to yourself,”
An indescribable wave of grief and rage overcomes him. “Dizzy?” he croaks out hoarsely.
Pop!
“What is Master Harry ne- oh,” Dizzy sees the box, the ring and puts it all together.
“You knew?” Harry asks, unable to contain the hint of anger in his voice.
The elf looks nervous. “Dizzy knews. Dizzy was told not to tell anyones who did not already know,”
He nods. That explains why she didn’t tell him. “It’s alright Dizzy, I’m not mad at you,”
“Dizzy can tell Master Harry stories?” she offers. “When Master Harry is ready,”
“So it was real then?” he asks. “The three of them? Together?”
Dizzy nods. “Same as Master Harry and his Wheezy and his ‘mione,”
He chokes back a sob, but it’s too late, the tears flow. He leans into Hermione’s shoulder, his shoulders shaking with his cries.
“Has Dizzy said something wrong?”
“No Dizzy,” Hermione assures her. “It’s just a lot to take in,”
The little elf hesitates and then speaks. “Master Regulus loved Master Harry. Master Harry gets his ability to love from him,”
“From Regulus?” Hermione asks, surprised. “How is that- Harry isn’t biologically his son,”
Dizzy shrugs. “Magic. Dizzy can see it. Dizzy can see Molly Wheezy’s magic in Ron Wheezy. Dizzy can see Master Regulus’ magic in Master Harry, as well as Mistress Lily and Master James,”
“Thank you Dizzy. I think- I think we’re okay now. You can go back to what you were doing,”
“Dizzy will come if called,” the little elf nods.
Pop!
“I have to go to Hogwarts,” Harry says, shooting up like a rocket. “I have to go I- I have to find it,”
“Harry, what are you talking about?”
“The stone! I need to get the stone, I need to talk to him I-” he freezes, realizing his mistake.
“What stone?” Ron asks carefully.
He collapses to the floor, shaking his head. “The resurrection stone,”
“Harry,” Hermione breathes out. “Harry, when did you get the resurrection stone?”
“It was in the snitch,” he sobs. “I used it on the way, I saw Mum and Dad and Remus and Sirius, but not- I didn’t know to summon him!”
“Where is it now?”
“In the forest, I let it fall from my hand,”
“Wait so that means-” Ron whispers in awe and maybe horror. “You were the…”
“The master of death,” Hermione finishes.
“I meant to tell you,” he whispers. “I really did, it's just… I haven’t been able to get it out,”
“It’s alright, Harry,” Ron assures him, drawing him into his lap. “It’s okay,”
“I just wanted to see them one more time,” he whispers. “And then I dropped it because I was done with it. I never wanted that power,”
“How would you even find it, Harry?” Hermione says gently. “It’s probably been stomped on by a centaur and buried by now,”
“I don’t know, Hermione! I just- I- I would have asked for him,” he says miserably. “If I had known,”
“But you didn’t,” she says softly. “And that’s okay, it doesn’t mean it’s your fault,”
“I know,” he sniffs. “But-”
“Let’s start with what’s in the box,” she suggests. “The letters and the journal. And then you can ask Dizzy to tell you stories. And then we can scour their vaults for any other trace of them. And then if you still want to go looking for it, we can. But not now. Not when-”
“When I wouldn’t be strong enough to drop it again?”
“Well… yes,”
He takes another sniff and a shaky sigh, leaning into Ron’s arms. “Okay,”
“Okay?”
“Okay,”