Celebrations and Revelations
‘- and even Ron doesn't believe me! He hasn't spoken to me at all this morning -’
They were sitting in Minerva's office. Harry had been summoned rather quickly following Remus’ - outburst - and Dumbledore had seemed keen to get them out of his office before they could break anything else, so they had relocated. Minerva had made them all a cup of tea and left them to it. Remus was feeling much calmer but Sirius was still shooting him nervous glances over the top of Harry's head.
‘It will be alright, Harry, we’ll get you through it,’ Sirius was saying, ‘Just because you have to take part doesn't mean you have to try to win. Our strategy can just be to show up, follow the rules and aim to avoid whatever curse might result from breaking the stupid contract.’
‘Yeah -’ Harry replied, shrugging his shoulders, ‘No one thinks I can do it anyway. You should've seen the others last night. They thought I was a joke -’
‘So let them,’ Sirius said, ‘This isn't about what anyone thinks. It's about getting through it unscathed. If someone's has done this to try and hurt you -’
Sirius stopped and glanced at Remus again, eyes signalling for help.
‘He’s right, Harry,’ Remus nodded, ‘You need to keep a low profile here-’ he tailed off at the look on Harry's face. ‘I mean - as low as you can - considering - well - everything.’
Sirius was glaring at him.
‘What Moony means, Harry,’ he cut in, ‘Is that this will be difficult. There'll be pressure, but you need to keep a cool head. Don't do anything rash.’
‘Do you really think someone’s done this to try and kill me?’
‘To be honest, I don't know,’ Sirius replied, rubbing a hand across his brow, ‘But we can't be too careful can we? Not after that dream you had -’
Harry sighed and looked down at his shoes.
‘Why is it always me?’ he said in a small voice.
Remus had a sudden recollection of a similar conversation they'd had, in a different office, only half a year ago. The memory helped him focus his mind: they were here to help Harry, do whatever it took. He reached out a hand, placing it firmly on Harry’s shoulder.
‘Oh Harry, I know. I’m sorry we couldn't fix this, but we'll be with you every step of the way.’
Harry closed his eyes and nodded slowly.
Sirius placed a hand on Harry's other shoulder, ‘Did they tell you what will happen next?’
‘Not really,’ Harry replied, ‘Just that it was about daring, so they weren't giving us any information in advance, only that we'll only have our wands. Mr Crouch did say, though, that we’re not allowed to ask for any help.’
Remus snorted derisively, taking them all by surprise. Perhaps he hadn't quite recovered after all. Harry looked at him questioningly.
‘Listening to Barty Crouch,’ he said, ‘Is not something we do in this family.’
Sirius let out a laugh, sudden and loud. Harry looked utterly confused for a moment and then laughed too, slightly nervously.
‘Wait - what do we have against Mr Crouch?’ he asked.
‘Well-’
*
‘It was actually great,’ Sirius said, ‘I sort of love it when you get like that.’
‘Don't.’
They were sitting at the tiny table in the kitchen at the flat. They'd returned after a lengthy conversation with Harry that had been filled with reassurances that Remus wasn't at all confident were true. He'd floated the idea of going back upstairs to apologise to Dumbledore for the breakages, but Sirius, a little high on the chaos of it all and a little nervous that they might cause more, had persuaded him it was time to go.
‘I’m sorry it got so stressful with Moody,’ Sirius said, ‘You know he’s always gotten under my skin, and the years don't seem to have done anything to soften him -’
‘You can say that again,’ Remus grumbled, rubbing his temples, ‘Making things explode though - so embarrassing. I bet Albus is relieved I'm not teaching anymore -’
‘Oh don't be ridiculous,’ Sirius replied, ‘If anything he should be glad someone so powerful cares so much about Harry,’ he paused, ‘so much about ‘this family'.’
Remus looked up at him.
‘Yeah,’ he said nervously, ‘It just came out. Do you think Harry -’
‘Harry loved it.’ Sirius said, ‘And so did I.’
*
‘Are you almost finished with that?’
Remus looked up from the book he'd been reading, a dull history tome that was largely incomprehensible. Regulus Black was standing over him, gesturing towards it.
‘Only it's the only copy and Binns sets us homework too so,’
‘Right, yeah,’ said Remus, closing the book, ‘I have to warn you, it’s not a gripping read -’
‘I think I'll be alright,’ Regulus replied, taking the book Remus was holding out. Remus looked back down at his work, and then up again when he realised Regulus had not moved, he was still standing there, looking down at the book cover.
‘Not the right one?’ Remus asked.
‘Yeah, no this is it,’ Regulus replied, feet still firmly rooted to the spot. Remus watched him for a moment and then looked back down at his work again, picking up his quill -
‘It’s his birthday tomorrow,’ Regulus said, suddenly.
Remus looked up again. Regulus was still staring down at the old history book. He laid his quill back on the table.
‘It is,’ he said.
‘I was wondering if you could take - if you could give him -’
Regulus pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket. Remus recognised the smart green trim of the Black family parchment.
‘It from you?’ he asked, ‘Or them?’
‘Me,’ Regulus replied, voice earnest, ‘Please-’
‘I’ll take it,’ Remus said, quickly, ‘He might not - he might not read it though.’
‘I know,’ Regulus said quietly, placing the letter on the desk, ‘Make sure he has a good one?’
‘Oi, Reggie!’
‘Great,’ Regulus whispered, shoving the letter closer to Remus and turning to leave.
‘Thought you were just grabbing a book?’ Rosier had appeared round a bookshelf and was now looking curiously at Remus.
‘I was,’ Regulus replied, waving the history book at him, ‘C’mon, let's get this homework done.’
‘You found him yet?’ Barty’s pale face appeared over Evan’s shoulder.
‘Yeah-’
‘Oh hello, Lupin,’ Barty smiled nastily, ‘All alone this evening?’
‘Come on,’ Regulus repeated, striding away, pulling Barty after him. Evan hesitated for a second, staring at the envelope next to Remus’ hand, before turning and following his friends.
*
‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY! SIRIUS! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’
‘Merlin, what time is it?’ Sirius grunted, scrabbling for the lamp but finding his wand first, ‘Lumos.’
‘Sirius!’
Remus opened one eye blearily in the wand light. He'd been having a dream again - about - what was it?
‘Hello? Sirius?’
‘Harry, what -’ Sirius opened the mirror and glanced at the clock, it actually wasn't that early at all,‘- oh, hi.’
‘Sorry, did we wake you?’ Harry grinned, ‘I wanted to call before breakfast, in case you went out or something.’
‘Heh, thanks,’ Sirius said, propping himself up against the headboard.
‘Ron wants to say hi too,’ Harry said, swinging the mirror round, showing them a brief flash of red hair.
‘Happy Birthday!’ came Ron’s voice from across the room, ‘Excited?’
Sirius laughed, ‘Yeah, excited not to be in prison or on the run.’
Remus elbowed him from beneath the duvet.
‘Don’t tease,’ he said into the pillow.
‘Oh - right yeah,’ came Ron’s reply, even further away this time.
‘He’s joking!’ Harry called, looking off somewhere to his left.
‘You two made up then?’ Sirius asked him.
‘Yeah, I just tried to explain, like you said. He's still quite fed up to be honest but I think he believes me about not putting my name in, so that's something.’
‘Good, good - that's great.’
‘Anyway, got to go. Have a fun day! Look out for Hedwig!’
Sirius snapped the mirror shut and wriggled back down beneath the covers.
‘Happy Birthday,’ Remus said, without moving, voice still muffled, ‘Want to go back to sleep?’
‘No,’ Sirius smiled, scooting back down beside him.
*
‘Oh wow!’
Sirius’ eyes lit up as he tore the paper off the present Remus had handed him. He flipped open the large leatherbound book to reveal a photograph mounted at the corners.
‘It’s just small,’ Remus said, ‘I just thought because we had such a good time looking at them in the summer.’
‘Yeah,’ Sirius said, a little breathlessly, leaning down to examine the picture more closely. It was of the three of them on Harry's birthday, Sirius with one arm round Remus and the other hand on Harry's shoulder. The purple marquee they had strung with lights glittered in the dark of the garden at Grimmauld Place.
‘Hagrid took that, I think,’ Remus added, ‘I thought it was a good shot.’
Sirius nodded, and turned the page, revealing the photographs Remus had taken of him flying with Harry, looping around the transfigured goalposts. The next showed a series of shots depicting Harry chasing Padfoot across a Welsh beach. Sirius glanced up and smiled at Remus who was watching nervously.
‘Our summer,’ he said, quietly as he turned over again, ‘Oh-’
The next double page held just two photographs: the one of Lily on the rock that had inspired their trip to Pwll Du, and the matching one Remus had taken of Harry opposite it.
‘They’re just copies, of course,’ Remus muttered, ‘Harry has the real ones.’
Sirius didn't appear to have heard him. He continued through the pages - there were a few more from the summer and then -
‘Oh Moony! Where did you find it!?’
‘In the pocket of an old jacket - it must’ve gotten thrown in with my things so it wasn’t in your box. I only found it the other week - hope it's OK that I saved it for today.’
Sirius ran his fingers along the edges of the photograph. It was wrinkled and dog-eared at the corners, a deep crease dividing it down the middle where it had been folded in his pocket. A dark-haired baby was zooming in and out of the frame on a toy broomstick, his mother crouched beside him, her arms outstretched in case he fell. A pair of legs belonging to his father followed him as he flew.
‘Thank you, Moons’ Sirius said, eyes shining, ‘I love it.’
*
‘Let's take the bike out.’
They'd spent a lazy morning eating breakfast and looking at photographs, pausing only to scour the newspapers that had arrived at the window just as Remus was pouring their second cup of coffee.
‘Where do you want to go?’
‘Wherever you like,’ Remus replied, ‘It’s all cleaned up right? Let's take it for a spin.’
Sirius grinned, ‘OK, let me get changed.’
Less than an hour later they were crossing Putney Bridge, Remus sitting close and holding on for dear life, feet firmly on the pegs. He had forgotten how long it had taken him to warm up to the bike before and his pillion-riding skills were rusty. Sirius, however, was riding with as much confidence as he ever had, relaxed in his leathers and steering the bike as if it was an extension of his own body. He had once described it as like flying, which, of course, Remus didn’t really like either, but he did like how happy Sirius was when he was doing it.
They carried on down the A23, passing the large suburban houses of Wimbledon and Surbiton and out into the countryside, the last few leaves still clinging to the trees that lined the roadside. Remus tried to relax, watching the scenery pass by in a blur, feeling the wind whipping at his clothes and keeping his eyes firmly on the back of Sirius’ helmet. They sped along Dorking Road, turning as they reached the roundabout at the base of Box Hill, and coming to a stop outside Rykas. Remus slipped off the bike and Sirius parked up, pulling his helmet off and shaking out his hair.
They left the bike, following the trail on foot further up the hill, wandering along Burford Spar, looking out across the Downs. Although it was early November and the wind was blowing, the sun was out and there were several picnickers dotted across the slope, eating sandwiches and enjoying the view. They settled down, a polite distance from anyone else, pulling their jackets tightly around them.
‘It’s a beautiful view,’ Remus said, looking out at the swathes of green beneath them.
‘Isn’t it,’ Sirius replied, shuffling a little closer beside him.
‘It’s a beautiful day.’
‘I wish everyday was just like this one.’
*
When Remus woke the next morning, it took him a moment to remember where he was. They had arrived back at Grimmauld Place very late, having waited until it was dark enough for them to fly the last part of the journey and land the bike in the garden, and had decided to stay and get an early start on more research. He rolled over onto his back, moving carefully to avoid waking Sirius who was facing away, curled in his usual ball.
Yesterday had been a welcome distraction from what had become a daily routine of following ex-Death Eaters, combing through handwritten texts and worrying over ambiguous details in foreign newspapers. ‘I wish everyday was just like this one’, Sirius had said, eyes closed behind his sunglasses, arms wrapped around himself against the November breeze. One day, Remus thought.
He pushed himself up, swinging his legs carefully over the side of the bed, feet searching for slippers. He pulled a jumper off the back of a chair and eased the door open, escaping into the light of the hallway - it was already well past nine o'clock. He padded down the stairs to the kitchen, readied a mug and put the kettle on. As it boiled he shifted through the papers that still sat on the long kitchen table. They'd taken anything that looked interesting back to the flat, Sirius spending his evenings pouring over Regulus' notebooks, but there was plenty here still to work through. He picked up the mouldy copy of Secrets of the Darkest Art and turned it over in his hands. It was largely dry now, but the pages had remained stuck fast, tearing violently at any attempt to separate them. After Dumbledore had told them of its contents they'd largely discarded it - Remus never had looked up a mould removal spell. The kettle began to whistle and he turned, book still in hand to remove it from the heat, just as the door to the cellar clicked open and Kreacher emerged, peering at Remus with his huge eyes.
‘Morning, Kreacher,’ he said, pouring the hot water into his mug.
Kreacher let out a strange hiss, eyes flickering from Remus to the book he still held in one hand.
‘Here, again,’ he muttered, ‘Touching things. Taking things. Master Regulus' things.’
Remus looked down at the book for a moment. Maybe - he thought.
‘Kreacher, do you know anything about this book?’
Kreacher ignored him, moving to the dresser that stood opposite and beginning to rifle through it.
‘It is Regulus' book? Right?’ Remus tried again, ‘It’s damaged from being in the cellar. Would you be able to restore it?’
The elf continued rummaging in the dresser. Remus thought he could hear muttering - ‘unnatural creature… defiling…’ but it was muffled by the clinking of the crockery inside the cupboard.
He shook his head and replaced the book. The change they'd seen in Kreacher during Harry's stay had not endured - perhaps, he thought, they shouldn't be leaving him alone here so much. He sat down at the table, rereading the closest piece of parchment absent-mindedly as he sipped his tea.
‘... Young Master’s precious things… his hard work… taking and touching without asking…’
Remus looked up. Kreacher had found whatever it was he'd been seeking and was shoving it down the front of his dirty tea towel as he made his way back towards the cellar.
‘Did you see what Regulus was doing?’ Remus asked him, ‘Did you know what his work was? What he was using this book for?’
Kreacher stopped suddenly and looked straight at him, the direct gaze taking Remus by surprise. His bulbous eyes were wide for just a moment, before they narrowed and he looked away.
‘Dares to ask Kreacher his Master's secret business…’
‘Sirius!’
The shout escaped him before he’d processed what he had suddenly realised. Kreacher was staring up at him, bloodshot eyes like saucers as Remus scrambled over the bench and up the steps, opening the kitchen door and calling again.
‘Sirius! Wake up!’
‘Filthy half-breeds!’
He’d set off the portrait. Shit, Remus thought. There was a loud thump somewhere above him, like someone falling out of bed and then footsteps on the stairs.
‘What? Remus what? What's happened?’
‘Befouling this noble house!’
‘Remus? Shut up you old bag!’
Sirius slid the last half of the hallway in his socks, wrenching the curtains closed across the portrait. He skidded to a halt as he reached the kitchen door where Remus still stood.
‘Ask Kreacher about the book,’ Remus said breathlessly, ‘Ask him what Regulus learned from it.’
Sirius looked at him, his face pale from the shock of his rousing and then at Kreacher, who stood frozen to the spot, both arms crossed over the tea towel, holding his treasure in place. He squeezed past Remus in the doorway, sinking down onto the bench and picking up the damaged book.
‘Kreacher,’ Sirius said, slowly and clearly, ‘Had you seen this book before? Before we found it I mean?’
Kreacher looked up at Sirius and nodded reluctantly.
‘Do you know why Regulus had it?’
Kreacher nodded again, his eyes twitching under the intensity of Sirius’ gaze.
‘I want you to tell me everything you know about it. Truthfully,’ Sirius added, ‘That's an order.’
Kreacher shuddered visibly and closed his eyes, his huge ears drooping on his head. Remus moved to sit silently behind Sirius, not wanting to distract either of them.
‘Master Regulus was reading because he was very worried,’ Kreacher began in a quivering voice, ‘Very worried after Kreacher returned from the Dark Lord's mission -’
‘The what?’ Sirius gasped, before he could stop himself. Remus felt a shiver travel down his spine as Kreacher continued, eyes still screwed shut. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been this.
‘- the Dark Lord required an elf and Master Regulus volunteered Kreacher. He said it would be an honour… to serve him… to do whatever he asked.’
‘And what did he ask, Kreacher?’ Sirius prompted, ‘You must tell me.’
Kreacher swallowed, arms still clamped tightly across his chest, knuckles whitening as he gripped the contents of his tea towel.
‘He took Kreacher to a cave beside the sea, and beyond this cave was a cavern, and in the cavern… a great black lake that was filled with - with terrible creatures…’
The elf paused. He was trembling now, tears seeping from beneath his eyelids. Sirius was leaning so far forward off the bench, Remus thought he might fall off it. Kreacher took a shaky breath.
‘There was a boat that took them to an island, and a basin full of potion. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it…’ he opened his eyes, red-rimmed now and brimming with silent tears. ‘Kreacher drank, and as he drank he saw terrible things ... his insides burned ... Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed... He made Kreacher drink all the potion... He dropped a locket into the empty basin... He filled it with more potion… and then he sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island…’
Kreacher paused again, shaking his head slightly, dislodging a huge tear which rolled down his cheek and splashed onto the floor at his bare feet.
‘Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island’s edge and he drank from the black lake... and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface…’
‘But you got away?’ Sirius whispered, voice rough.
‘Master Regulus told Kreacher to come home,’ Kreacher said.
Sirius sat back against the edge of the table and held up the book again.
‘And so you came back and told Reg what had happened? And he found more information in this book?’
‘Master Regulus was very concerned,’ Kreacher said, ‘He told Kreacher to hide, to stay in the house and he began working all day and all night in the cellar. Kreacher tried to care for him, but he would not sleep… he would not eat… he just read and wrote and read -’ Kreacher nodded towards the book in Sirius' hand. ‘And then, one night... Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard… he was strange, disturbed in his mind... and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord…’
Kreacher tailed off and closed his eyes again, bowing his head so low his snout-like nose touched his folded arms. Sirius was shaking, the motion visible even from behind. Remus slid slightly down the table to get a clearer view of his face. He was staring unblinkingly at the elf, the book clasped tightly in one hand, the other on the edge of the bench, as if he was holding on for dear life.
‘What happened to Regulus?’ he whispered, voice barely audible across the table, ‘What happened to my brother?’
‘Kreacher did not want to take Master Regulus to that cursed place… Kreacher told him they should not go, that Kreacher did not want to return, but he said that he knew what to do… that it was important… he ordered Kreacher to take him, so Kreacher did. When they reached the island this time it was Master Regulus who drank the poison-’ Kreacher suddenly sobbed so loudly Remus jumped, spilling his tea and momentarily breaking the trance they had all slipped under.
‘Would you like to sit down?’ Sirius croaked unexpectedly as Remus reached for a tea towel to mop up the spillage. Sirius pulled his wand from his pocket and conjured an elf-sized stool, placing it neatly beside where Kreacher stood, still trembling from head to toe. The elf hesitated for a moment, looking nervously at the seat before clambering onto it. Sirius nodded at him to continue.
‘M-Master Regulus took out a locket like the one the Dark Lord had,’ Kreacher continued, ‘And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets …’ he hiccuped, tears still streaming, ‘And so Kreacher did… and when it was done… Kreacher tried to take Master Regulus home but -’
Kreacher was sobbing uncontrollably now, huge guttural shuddering breaths that made his little body heave, Remus wondered if - how they might comfort him, but he was rooted to his seat. Sirius was pressed back against the table, as if he was trying to push himself through it.
‘Kreacher tried again but it would not work… Kreacher tried and tried but it was no use… Master Regulus told Kreacher to leave without him. He told Kreacher to go home - and never to tell my Mistress what he had done but to destroy the locket. And Kreacher told him he would not - he would not leave Master Regulus but he - he,’ Kreacher was sobbing so hard he was difficult to understand, ‘He ordered Kreacher to and then… he crawled towards the water and... was dragged beneath…’
Sirius let out a strange noise, something not unlike an animal, wounded and caught in a trap. He dropped the book onto the floor and sank to his knees in front of the elf, who wept, cowering on his stool, hands covering his huge eyes, the treasure in his tea towel long forgotten.
‘Where is the locket now?’ Remus asked, sliding to the end of the bench and moving round the table to perch behind Sirius. ‘Did you destroy it?’
Kreacher let out a horrible wail.
‘Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it,’ he moaned, ‘Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work… So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open... Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f–f–forbidden him.’
Sirius whimpered.
‘Where is it?’ Remus said again, not sure the elf would respond.
‘Upstairs,’ Kreacher said, voice almost inaudible, ‘In the cabinet in the Drawing Room.’
‘Get it,’ Sirius coughed from the floor. ‘Bring it here.’
Kreacher disappeared with a loud crack. Remus put his hand out, gripping Sirius' arm. Sirius turned to look up at him, shaking his head wordlessly. He couldn't think of a thing to say, instead he guided Sirius up onto the bench beside him. In only a matter of seconds Kreacher returned, still hiccuping and holding at arm's length a heavy gold locket.
Remus stared at it. It was large, and ugly and he could feel - it felt - had it really been here the whole time? He glanced across at Sirius who was staring at it in similar disbelief. He blinked and looked around himself - they needed something -
‘Kreacher, put it here,’ Remus said, holding out his empty mug, ‘And then find and fetch Albus Dumbledore. I expect he's at Hogwarts. Find him and tell him we've got another one, here.’
Kreacher didn't move, he stood, arm outstretched, eyes on Sirius.
‘Do as he says.’
Kreacher dropped the locket into the mug, there was a sharp crack and he was gone.