War Flashbacks
Blood Magick was one of the most obscure forms of magic, only encapsulated by that of the magic of pure and unbridled love. The Ministry of Magic would never admit that they were running extensive tests on both forms of magic, but the unspeakables worked tirelessly to understand them.
At the core, blood magic tied a witch or wizard to every other person that shared their blood. This was, Regulus could only assume, why purebloods were so obsessive when it came to whom they married and had children with.
The answer was in front of him now, glaring up at him from one of the most ancient books on blood magic that existed. It would take a lot out of him, but it was already decided that his sacrifice was his own fault for not destroying the time turner.
So Regulus Black, an hour before his classroom was set to be filled with first years, attached a needle to the bend of his arm and began to drain his own blood.
***
Lily often considered herself just as capable of investigation as any auror or muggle cop. She was a lawyer, she knew, but searching for answers came so naturally that she couldn't help herself.
Which is how she found herself in a small muggle cafe in Campo Grande, Brazil, sunglasses and headscarf obscuring her identity.
She had heard, through whispers and past clients, that many of the past death eaters had fled to Brazil after the war was done. Working with Gregory Goyle Sr. was one of the most unsavory things she had ever done, promising to keep him out of Azkaban for the illegal importation of Kappas in exchange for information regarding the whereabouts of one Severus Snape.
She was convinced it would never work. But surprisingly, there was a short amount of magical lawyers willing to take on an already convicted Death Eater. He agreed, begrudgingly, and gave her the address to the cafe she now sat in.
She didn't bother mentioning any of this to James, of course. Best not to involve any marauder when Severus was concerned. She had dropped a note on Xander's desk that morning, telling him that she would be gone for the next two nights for business.
But it had been three hours of pretending to sip on her cup of tea (which was not as good as back home, thank you very much) and she hadn't seen him.
He had turned at the last moment, breaking away from the Death Eaters and fighting alongside Lily. But she couldn't help but continue to feel the betrayal of their years together before that.
Both directly and indirectly, Severus had a hand in the deaths of multiple of her friends.
The second best time to do the right thing is now, her father used to always say. It's never too late.
And was it? Was there a time where it was too late to choose to do the right thing?
Lily was lost in her thoughts, wondering how differently the future would have been shaped if Severus had decided to switch sides, until she felt the jab of a wooden wand in the side of her neck.
"Why are you here?"
It had been years since she had heard the voice, but it was too distinct to forget.
"To see you, Severus. What other reason is there?"
"I can hear the disdain in your voice, Evans. Why are you truly here? Because it's not for me."
There was hate in Severus's words, and this came as no surprise to Lily. But what was surprising was the utter despair that the end of his sentence held.
Removing her sunglasses slowly, Lily turned to fully look at him. He had changed, but he was still Severus. His hair was cropped much shorter, barely covering the tops of his ears and flopping slightly down in his eyes. He was dressed in muggle clothes, his trademark robes missing. He looked healthy, but Lily couldn't help but notice the lack of anything behind his eyes.
"How are you, Severus? Really?"
The tip of his wand never left her neck. "Why are you here?"
Lily sighed, feeling deeply annoyed by the way the conversation had began. "Will you just sit down? There's trouble at home."
Slowly putting his wand away, Snape looked at her critically. He sunk unceremoniously into the chair across from her, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Potter's still the same cretin then?"
"Who said it was Potter causing the problems?"
Severus stayed silent, choosing to simply shoot her a look.
Lily's spine stiffened. "It's more of your sort, actually."
She watched as the color of Severus's eyes dulled to almost black. "I don't know what you're on about."
Tea abandoned, Lily leaned her elbows on the table between them. "I know Bella-"
Severus's eyes widened almost comically as his hand shot across the table to prevent Lily from finishing her sentence. When he spoke next, he dropped his voice to a low murmur.
"Not here. I'll answer your questions, but not here."
Grabbing a confused Lily by the wrist, Severus Snape pulled her from the cafe and disapparated the moment they made it into the side alley.
***
Sanguis Magia Imperium
A textbook of every spell powered by blood magic.
To open the text itself took the essence of a pureblood, of which Regulus had gave willingly. But the answer was suddenly so clear that he almost believed it to be too easy.
The Black family was known for their inbreeding, much more than any other wizarding family of Britain. It was pure blight upon the family tree if one was to ask Regulus, but this time he was glad.
For on the sixth page of Sanguis Magia Imperium set a spell that would lead him directly to Bellatrix Lestrange. If she still posessed her magic, that is.
Reperio sanguinem meum, a way to trace every bit of what was left of the Black family bloodline.
Sequere filum, a way to trace the blood directly to Bellatrix Lestrange.
But it was extensive. And dark. And much further than Regulus would have felt comfortable with going since the fall of Voldemort.
But times were shifting, he knew. It was almost as if he could feel it in the air. Regulus was unsure if it were true, maybe he was imagining it. But when he walked the streets of any wizarding town, the dark chill that clung to his ankles during his service to Voldemort hit him so prominently that he could visibly shiver.
And he would not allow it to continue. Things were different. There was more to lose. Draco. And Harry.
Harry.
"Professor Black?"
Regulus cleared his throat, opening his eyes as he sat behind his desk. "Yes, Mr. Potter? What is it?"
"Are you feeling well?"
No, Harry. I recently drained a pint of my own blood to put away for one of the most evil spells I have ever cast.
"Quite alright, thank you."
He watched the way that Harry's nose crinkled just slightly, a trait he had picked up from his mother. Wise beyong his years, Harry knew that Regulus was lying.
But Reg couldn't help but wonder if he even minded.
"Of course, Professor," Harry turned to leave the classroom, but stopped suddenly and turned back to Regulus.
Regulus could tell that there was more the child wanted to say, but he seemed to think better of it. Instead, Harry turned back to the doorway and left Regulus to his own devices.
***
"Do you think they would tell us if there was something happening?"
Harry broke the silence that was filled with nothing but the sounds of the Black lake, lapping at the shore around their feet.
"If the world was ending again, they'd tell us," Draco added confidently. "Uncle Reg would."
At that, Ron snorted. "I don't think so, mate. Professor Black's the most secretive adult there is."
Draco opened his mouth to protest, but the sight of a shadow falling over him caused him to look up at the person standing there.
"Hello, Draco," She said, almost quietly. It was apparent she was embarassed. "Have you done the Charms essay yet?"
"Oh, no- not yet, no. I was going to start it later this evening."
"Well, I was wondering...would you like to work on it together maybe? I was just about to head to the library."
The tips of Draco's ears flushed bright red from the way Harry and Ron were trying not to snicker.
"Oh! Well, yes. I think I'd like that, Hermione." He turned back to Ron and Harry. "And you two? Are you coming?"
Ron guffawed loudly as Harry glanced between the two. "Not this time. Enjoy the library, though. Merlin knows you two spend enough time in that bloody place."
Harry's smile began to fall as he thought back to the dark coloring beneath Regulus's eyes. Something was wrong. It was almost as if he could feel it. That, coupled with the vivid dreams that Harry had begun to have were enough to push him to write to Padfoot.
Padfoot,
Professor Black-
But he paused, looking at Regulus's moniker on the page. It just didn't feel right. Taking a shot in the dark, Harry quickly drew lines through it and began again.
Padfoot,
Uncle Reg seems to be out of sorts recently. He's looking as though he isn't sleeping. I was wondering if you or Moony could look in on him?
I've also been having dreams. The weird kind. I know it's not real, but I've been dreaming about a cupboard. It's a cupboard under the stairs. There's spiders and just barely enough light to see around, but I wake up inside of it in my dream. And
Harry paused, thinking back on the dream that had woken him up for the past three nights. It just seemed so...real. He knew that it wasn't, but something about it made him so sick to his stomach that he had rushed to the loo the night before, spilling the contents of his stomach into the toilet.
And it feels so real. It's like these things have already happened, and I can't get them to go away. Do you know what this is? Don't tell Dad, he'll just worry.
-Harry
***
He needed six pints of pureblood family blood to even attempt the first spell, another three to find Bellatrix. Despite the blood replenishers, Regulus had to wait.
And waiting was something he was not exceptionally good at.
His body was exhausted from the full day of teaching and blood collecting, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed and sleep until the next day.
He didn't bother changing his clothes, only choosing to remove his outer set of teaching robes and his shoes. Flopping ungracefully down upon his bed, Regulus closed his eyes and sleep found him almost immediately.
Burning.
It was the first thing he felt, deep in his chest and radiating up his throat and nose. It had been a very long time since Regulus Black had felt the feeling of drowning.
But it wasn't just the feeling of drowning that sent Regulus into a tailspin.
His insides were screaming for water, as if he hadn't drank any in weeks. Flashes of some of the most terrible nights of his life were popping up in his vision, and he could do nothing to stop them.
He woke as the sun rose, drenched in sweat and breathing as if he was running from the devil himself. And in some ways, he supposed he was.
Miles away, tucked into the bedroom that Reg and James were both intimately familiar with, James Potter was screaming.
He had forgotten, long ago, what it felt like when Bellatrix Lestrange took away his shot at playing professional quidditch. He had been lucky to keep his arm at all, with his mother's quick thinking and Regulus's risk of identification making all the difference. He blacked out pretty quickly from blood loss, and he couldn't help but be greatful.
For now, laying in his bed at Potter Manor, a searing pain cut across James's shoulder, feeling as though the tendons and sinews were being wrenched from his body all over again.
He woke with a shout as the sun was rising, the unmistakeable pain radiating the length of his entire side.