Chapter 1
At the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Regulus Black stepped outside the family car on the street of Grimmauld Place. Alone.
The old house stood tall and proud, its faded black paint peeling and chipped in places. It was built in the early 1900s or was made to look that way, the origins of this house is unknown. It was a magnificent sight though, despite its age and despite the memories, the house had a timeless elegance that was hard to ignore. It was easy to daydream the grand parties that should have taken place within its walls, the laughter and music that could have filled the air. It was nicer for Regulus to imagine that then to remember what has happened. The screams, the crying and the pain.
As he walked up to the house, you could see the intricate woodwork that adorned the porch and the eaves of the house. The windows were tall and narrow, with more cracked black paint around the frames. The front door was a heavy, dark wood, with a brass knocker that shone in the sunlight. Small pieces of snow let themselves drift with the wind, falling into the trees, covering the grass and the cobble stone path. Some laying stake inside of his hair as the wind blew past, a stark contrast from the black.
As Regulus walked down the cobblestone path to enter the house he heard a yell, "Stupid bastard!" A child, small and greasy, stood while holding an arm. His friends laughed behind him, telling him that he should have left it be. 'It' was probably the tabby cat that was now walking along the half stone walls with its head held high, it sat down and looked back at the children who still hadn't left. "It's just a stupid cat!" One of the children shouted, the cat was now licking its paw at the group. It was definitely a threat or a smug victory sign and Regulus almost laughed at the sight.
"Young master." Just like that nothing else existed as he looked back at the now open door. Kreacher bowed his head slightly before clicking his fingers and taking away his trunks, all laughter now lost.
"Kreacher, how is everything?" He asks, turning to the elf, not knowing if he wants an answer.
"The house has a guest." He whispers to the boy before they walk into the house. In this house, surrounded by dark magic and darker souls. Regulus is always on guard. So, he takes a breath before wandering into the living room.
As expected, his mother sat in the arm chair as she cradled her tea. "Mother." He made himself known, she looked up at him as she took a sip of her tea.
"Regulus, make yourself presentable." She looks over his outfit with displeasure, as she always did. He nods at her and leaves the room, heading towards his own.
As he walks down the hallway he looks inside the study, nothing has changed about the house. The people living in it did, so it should. It feels like it should, they lost someone and yet nothing has changed. His father still sits in his chair, drinking his whiskey. He clearly doesn't feel the need for such basic things like a cup, drinking straight from the bottle. Regulus walks away, glad to look away from the sight.
He walks past another room, he stares at the black door that would lead him inside. His eye's follow the gold embroidery that stands out from the rest of it, from the rest of the corridor. He watches it move against the wood, like tiny gold snakes slithering around creating all types of patterns. For a second he goes to open it before pulling away, the memories that have now turned to dreams lock themselves behind it. Regulus isn't sure he wants to open it, he wouldn't be able to get in anyway, so he turns around with a pensive look before walking away.
Once he gets to his own room he stares at the ceiling as he takes deep breaths. He leans against the plain black door and looks at the wall and ceiling. The black ceiling blends with the walls, they are covered in weathered green wall paper that has a continuing pattern that's outlined in black. It didn't take long for him to sort his stuff back into his own oak drawers and closet. He put his book's on his desk and took the letter from his inside pocket to put inside his bedside table.
Pandora had given it to him, with the very simple instructions of: "You'll know when you need it, I’ll be there."
Once done and redressed into something his mother would deem more appropriate he starts to head to the library. The Black library is one of the only thing's Regulus has come to love about Grimmauld Place now that Sirius is gone, as well as Kreacher. But Kreacher will always be above anyone or anything to him. Maybe it's because he knows Kreacher won't betray him, because he knows how deep his loyalty lies, maybe it's because he's seen the elf's kindness over the years. His favourite meal at breakfast after a fight, him helping bandage his wounds, him letting Regulus stay down in the basement with him even though it's off limits.
Maybe it's because he's bound to Regulus, so he can't do all the things people can. People have done. And maybe it's wrong that it fill's Regulus with happiness but he can't find it in himself to care. At the end of the day, he just wants someone to care about him. Obligated to or not.
As he makes his way into the library his eye's travel over to find a man sitting in the armchair Regulus usually sits in. "Regulus Arcturus Black." The man says his voice sounds distant and it almost sounds like he hisses when saying his name, his back is still turned and he hasn't looked up from the book he's reading.
"Sir?" If this is the guest that Kreacher, then he must be important. To them at least. He was a tall man, his hair was dark brown, slicked back with a touch of gel, and fell into place perfectly, even as he ran his fingers through it and his arm lay on the side of the chair. He had a chiselled jawline and a straight nose that gave him a look of superiority.
"Welcome home, what is it you planned to read?" He still doesn't lift his head, his eye's don't leave the page again. He dressed impeccably, in a designer suit and expensive shoes that would make a soft click on the floor wherever he went. His voice was deep and commanding, and he spoke with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Regulus finds his gaze drifting away.
"Any books I can find about charms or the dark arts." He doesn't lie, thinks better of it.
"Might I suggest a couple?" The man asks, although it doesn't sound like a question.
"I would appreciate it." Regulus watches as the stranger stands and puts his own book down before moving towards him. His face is much clearer now, more defined. Even with his plain look, it's oddly simple, it's nice to look at. The plain but well kept shirt that's tucked into his pants with a belt that has silver linings and accent's. As he walks past the strong centred aroma of fire surrounded by ash and dry wood could be smelt. He wasn't complaining.
The man takes his hands over the spines of the book's, searching. It's a gentle touch, he keeps his head tall and his body straight. He pry's his eyes away from the man to stare out a window but finds his gaze returning to him, unable to look away. Regulus couldn't help but notice how bony his hand was, it looked more wrinkled than the rest of him, he couldn't think of an explanation.
"Here." The man stands in front of him now, with multiple book's on the palm of his hand. Regulus grab's the three book's and thanks the man.
"If you need any help, don't be shy. I have much wisdom I have been dying to pass down." He tells Regulus before leaving him in the library. Regulus feels like he can finally breathe easy again, the overwhelming presence leaving. The man had a certain aura that followed him, it was dark and Regulus didn't feel like being suffocated with it again. So, after that, Regulus hide's in his room. Not wanting to run into anyone from the family or the new stranger they are housing.
Before he could open it though Kreacher apparated into his room. "Dinner is being served in the dining room, you have been summoned." He doesn't think he can, not with all his thoughts, feelings and the people he's going to be seeing. And the ones he's not.
The thing is, Regulus and Sirius aren't all that different. Not in the way that they believe, Sirius had always lashed out and caused trouble when he didn't like something. Even if he knew he wouldn't win, he would always take a stand against their parent's. Regulus blamed the Gryffindor in him for that. However, Regulus was more subtle, so as he walked into the dining room with his three-piece suit that his mother nodded approvingly of everyone was oblivious to the fact his socks held a myriad of colours that came in all sorts of shapes. It's a small, childish act but it's enough for him. He's not stupid enough to push, that's the Slytherin in him.
Sat at the head of the long table, taking up his mother's space, is the man from the library. Regulus is in his usual seat, the one next to him being vacant. His eyes linger on the empty seat and the space on the table where no cutlery is set, he has to adjust himself as he sit's, becoming more distressed as he finds more things reminding him of his brother.
"Good afternoon, Regulus." His father nods his way, picking up his glass he turns to the man. "Shall we?" Their glasses meet in the middle, "We shall." The stranger replied and they started to eat.
Regulus sat in silence as he ate, listening to the multiple conversation's his parents held with their guest. Until his name came up. "So, how is Hogwarts going, Regulus?" The stranger addresses him first.
Regulus is surprised by the question, surprised by being asked to talk at dinner at all. "Yes, how is school dear?" Walburga asks, making movements with her eyebrows that he should really answer the question now.
"It's okay." He tells them, fighting the urge to shrug as he did. "Just okay?" His mother asks, clearly not accepting the answer. Wanting him to carry on. "I got to start on my choices from last year," He shrugs that time and earns a scolding look from Walburga as he does. It makes him look away and continue to eat, wanting to be out of the topic.
"Yes, Regulus is taking potions now, he is good at it. Naturally. My Sirius is a natural as well, always causing mischief with his potions and charms. I couldn't be prouder." His mother boasted, Regulus couldn't help but internally cringe at her words. Confused for the mention of the boy that wasn't even here.
"Where is the eldest?" The man asked as he looked around the table, Regulus couldn't help but concentrate on his parents at that moment.
"He isn't here right now but he will be back later in the year." She promises him with a pleasing smile but it's anything but comforting. It puts Regulus on edge to think about why she would want his brother back. The reason behind it but he can't think of one. "He had some simple disagreements, he's always been headstrong like his mum." She laughed along with his father. Regulus finds himself very done with this conversation as he tightens his grip on his cutlery.
The stranger hummed at the answer and turned to address Regulus. "I took potion's as well, are you up to chapter 24 yet? Is that even how they still teach?" He asks with a laugh, Regulus can't help but like the new conversation. "Yes, it's still taught by Potions. We did chapter 24 just a few weeks ago, I found it interesting." He comments before turning to his food.
"Was it how if you cut up the Valerian root in different ways it can cause the potion to become an entirely different one then you wanted?" Regulus looked up with surprise, still being involved in the conversation. "Yes.." He nodded, "I found that interesting too, I have actually experimented a lot with it. I could lend you a copy of some of my notes.. if you are interested." The man asked as he continued to eat his food, offering to give his notes to the boy as if it were nothing. His parent's look confused at the attention Regulus is getting from the man but Regulus is just thankful to keep his brother out of the conversation.
"I would like that a lot actually." Regulus looks at the man, realising he didn't even know his name.
"As much as I was good at Potions, my heart was with charms for most of my years at Hogwarts. I have a feeling we are quite similar?" He asked, cutting into his steak. His parents confused, "Regulus doesn't-" Walburga started with a scoff but was interrupted.
"I do." He spoke to the man, Walburga closed her jaw with a sickening click. "I've been experimenting- sort of. One of the books you recommended yesterday helped a lot actually, 'Looking Through the Transparent.'?" He told him, ignoring the looks from his parents because really if he's going to be forced to talk it might as well be about something he liked.
"That is an excellent book, really helped me in my fourth year when I first found it. Please do tell me about your experiments, I'm intrigued." He smiled, a charming small smile and Regulus believed it. So he did talk or had started to.
For the whole meal, Regulus had completely forgotten he was in the company of the dark lord, the one whispered about but no one is entirely certain it's nothing more than a rumour. That rumour, sit's in Regulus's house, eating his food, sleeping and he just offered to more or less teach Regulus on potions. His charm about making conversation on people's likes added to Regulus's fear. It reminded him of his mother, sweet talking people to get away with action's or to minimise the consequences. It was effective, Regulus has been a victim to it multiple times and has watched other's fall into the pit so she can sink her teeth in.
As he looks between his parent's and 'Voldemort', he watches his mother grovel as she boasts and compliments her way through dinner. He watches as his father agrees without a doubt, watches as they bring his favourite desert's out and answers to his every whim. He can't help but feel like he's watching them fall, lower and lower they go as they strain their necks so this man can perfectly sink his teeth into their skin.
By the end of dinner Regulus feels sick all over again, it's only the first day of his two week's back and he already wants to go back to Hogwarts.
After dinner, Regulus lightly helped Kreacher by stacking the dishes. "I'm going to retire for the night, it was nice conversing with you. Goodnight." Voldemort said before leaving the room, Regulus stood to follow after.
"I didn't know you had your heart for Charms." Walburga stood tauntingly, Regulus stumbled as he stepped. Not entirely sure that she was even talking to him but as he turned to find her gaze locked onto him he knew she was.
"We never really talked about it." Regulus says, not really thinking and just saying. He's not used to speaking with his parents, not in sentences and conversation.
"Talked about what?" Walburga questioned with an exaggerated eyebrow raise.
'Me.' Regulus thought, he wanted to say it but stopped himself.
"We talk about Hogwarts all the time, yet you never mentioned your heart for charms." At the statement, the conversation, the venom in her words. Regulus wishes he could just take it back and stay silent like he should have. The taunt, 'You only ever talked about Sirius in Hogwarts.' Died in his mind but it was true. Talking, bad or good, it was still about Sirius. How well he was doing in Potions. How frustrating it is that he's a Gryffindor. The wasted potential of a blood traitorous bastard.
Regulus can't help but think if they are truly upset for not knowing Regulus or if they are upset Voldemort clearly likes him more than Sirius. It hadn't really happened before and he feels smug about it. Lifting his gaze to look at his mother, no defiance.
"Mustn't've crossed my mind." He sighs with a smile, hiding the smugness he feels with a tired one.
"Don't mumble, Regulus." She scolds but he doesn't truly acknowledge it. It's a little late for her to start parenting him now and she's only doing it because Sirius isn't here. That's the only thought that stops the attention he gets from feeling good, from twisting around his pride, even if they are paying attention to him now.
'He isn't here right now but he will be back later in the year.' It was a promise but it sounded like a death sentence.