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“There will only be one murder tonight,” Black said, grinning growing wider to reveal crooked yellow teeth.
Harry’s heart pounds and Ron’s face is still far too pale, and Hermione is biting her lip, even as she stands with them. But what can three wandless students do against a mass murderer? And yet, Harry has no plans on moving. If Black wants him to move, he’s going to have to force him because-
“You were always such a drama queen.”
The new voice has Black whipping around, just in time for a spell to be cast. The wands go flying and a stranger catches them. Harry blinks, no longer sure what’s happening. He’s never seen this person before in his life. They’re not overly tall, but slim; high, aristocratic features that remind him of Malfoy. Unlike Malfoy, however, he has dark eyebags under his eyes and dark hair that is pulled back into a ponytail.
“Reggie?”
The stranger’s expression twists, like he’s not sure whether to be happy or not. Eventually, he settles on a quiet, “Yes.” Then, with a single gesture, he throws the wands back to Harry and his friends.
Wand back in hand, Harry points it at Black. Whoever this stranger is—Reggie or whatever—he gave Harry back his wand, which means that he’s probably an ally, unlike Black who is threatening to murder them.
Black, however, no longer seems to care the slightest bit for Harry and his friends, gaze focussed unwaveringly on the stranger, who remains in the doorway. “How are you here? How are you alive?” Then, stumbling forward, Black places himself between Harry and the stranger—with his back to Harry. “I won’t let you get at them Death Eater scum!”
“Who’s he?” Ron hisses from somewhere behind Harry. Harry shrugs, darting a glance at Hermione who shakes her head. Clearly, she doesn’t know either. Which, well, Harry’s not entirely sure what to make of any of this. Black wants to murder them—Ron—and yet stands between Harry and the stranger, declaring the stranger a Death Eater and trying to protect them? It makes no sense.
None of this night has made any sense so far and Harry’s starting to get tired of it.
“You’re meant to be dead!” Black’s voice has Harry’s attention turning back to the situation at hand. He’s shifted slightly out of the way, as if unsure who he should be protecting now. “And- And where did your arm go?”
From Harry’s angle, he can see the stranger roll his eyes. “It might have gotten cursed and I got rid of it. In all fairness, it was already cursed before then so perhaps it got cursed twice-over. Nonetheless, as much as you might enjoy going in circles, I would prefer to do what I came here for and prevent you from sending yourself back to Azkaban. Really, all this nonsense about murders, are you incapable of saying things in a straightforward manner? Out of all the things you picked up from our childhood, that really seems like one of the worst ones.” Then, after a pause, the stranger adds, “Well, that and the melodramatics, but it seems you have that as well.”
There’s a hesitant smile playing at his lips and it looks like they were trying for a joke, though no one laughs. After a beat, the stranger stops smiling. Instead, he turns to face them. Immediately, Harry lifts his wand in preparation.
“I mean you no harm,” the stranger says, voice still soft—which is rather at odds for the environment, Harry privately thinks. “I’m Regulus Black. I would give you my wand, but I’ll admit I prefer being cautious about these things.”
Beside Harry, Hermione narrows her eyes at him. “I haven’t heard of you,” she says. “Have you been assisting Black—I mean, the other Black, Sirius—to get into the castle?”
Regulus shakes his head. “I actually only got word that my brother had escaped from Azkaban recently. I was deep underground when the news got out.”
“Underground?” Sirius echoes. “What could you have wanted underground?”
Regulus hums. “Something that someone didn’t want me to have, though that may have been because most of our relatives think I am dead.”
Suddenly, Sirius growls. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
His gaze swings back to Ron and Harry steps in front, staring the murderer down. “You won’t be killing Ron!”
“The Weasley? No of course not, I’m after the rat,” Sirius replies.
At that, Harry looks uncertainly at Ron, who looks just as unsure as he feels. “Scabbers? But he’s just a rat!”
“I’m not the only Animagus in this room,” Sirius growls out. “Someone else, in fact, is—and they hid themselves after framing me for the deaths he caused! After selling out James and Lily too!”
“My parents?” Harry says, voice soft. “What do you mean?”
“Ah, might I interrupt to mention that Lupin is coming? He tripped the wards I placed down,” Regulus says, interjecting mildly as he moves out of the doorway at long last. “Sirius, do see that he doesn’t try to kill me.”
“Don’t order me around,” Sirius immediately retorts and Harry almost laughs because, for a second, he sounded so much like Ron when Ginny tried to order him to do something. However, when Regulus approaches, he stills.
“I know you don’t know me, nor do you have any reason to trust me,” Regulus says. “But I’d like to heal Weasley’s legs, I’m a deft hand at it.”
“But you’re missing an arm!” Ron says, eyes wide.
Regulus slants them an amused look. “I promise you, I only learnt healing after. Besides, everyone knows healing is harder to cast on yourself than someone else. I am trained.”
Harry bites his lip and glances at Hermione who shrugs. This could go badly, but it could also work out in their favour. It’s up to Ron to make the decision. “Oh, alright,” Ron says, trying for relaxed and missing by a mile.
Quietly, Regulus murmurs something under his breath and waves his wand. Ron groans, letting go of Scabbers as he curls over his leg. Harry is too busy reaching out for his friend, but Hermione catches Scabbers with a quick spell. “Are you alright?” Harry asks, hands hovering over Ron but not sure if he touches it won’t make things worse.
“Yeah,” Ron says, sounding surprised. He straightens and then gets to his feet, not even wavering. “I’m better than alright. I can walk again!”
“You will be careful is what you’ll be,” Regulus says, sounding so much like a teacher that Harry bites back the ‘Yes, Professor’ that sits on his tongue. “That took quite a bit of energy and it won’t be fully strong for another few weeks.”
“Yeah, of course,” Ron says. He grins. “Thanks.”
Since everything seems calm, it only makes sense that it’s at that moment Lupin appears in the doorway. “Sirius?” He calls, sounding not surprised, but just confused. Then, glancing at the other adult in the room, he does a second-take. “Little Regulus?”
There’s a beat before Regulus says, rather dryly, “Hello Lupin. Don’t suppose you know why Sirius is up in arms over a rat?”
“So he did it then,” Lupin says breathing out. He turns to face Sirius. “It wasn’t you?”
Sirius shakes his head. “No, of course not! I couldn’t. James was- He was my best friend. My brother. You know this Remus!”
“They were dark times,” Lupin says with a sigh. “Suspicious ones too. But you were wary of me as well.”
Running a hand through his hair, Sirius says. “We knew someone was sharing information, but we didn’t know who! You couldn’t blame me for being cautious.”
“What’s going on?” Harry demands. He glances at his friends, but they look just as confused as he does—as does Regulus, though he seems to be thinking about something. “What are you talking about?”
Sirius and Lupin exchange a glance, before Sirius says, “When your parents went into hiding, they chose a Secret Keeper, someone who would keep the whereabouts of their house and family safe from Voldemort. Your parents asked me to be the Secret Keeper, but I knew I would be a target. I told them to pick Peter Pettigrew.”
“But… he died,” Hermione says. “You killed him, didn’t you?”
Sirius barks a laugh, something jagged. “That’s what he wanted everyone to think, didn’t you?” His question is directed, strangely enough, at the rat in Hermione’s hands.
“Oh,” Hermione says, the word barely more than a sigh. “An Animagus too?”
Frowning, Harry tries to figure out what she’s finally realised. “What is it?” He asks, not looking at any of the adults, but at Hermione only. She’s his best friend after all. She won’t steer him wrong.
“Peter Pettigrew was an Animagus just like Sirius is and, I suppose, James must have been too because…” She glances at Lupin. “It was for you, right?”
Lupin nods, a smile on his face. “You really are the cleverest witch of your age. Yes, they became Animagus for me so that I wasn’t alone in the full moons because I’m-”
“A werewolf?” Ron says, voice high-pitched. “You’re a werewolf? Why did Dumbledore let you teach?”
“It’s true,” Lupin says, inclining his head. “And Professor Dumbledore is a great man who places his trust in me. I will always be indebted to him for it.”
After a pause, Hermione continues, “Anyway, if Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper and betrayed your parents Harry, what’s to say he didn’t go on the run afterward? It would be all too easy to slip away as Animagus, especially after framing someone else. It would be really easy if, say, one was a rat…”
Everyone’s gaze turns to Scabbers, who squeaks and tries to run, but is unable to escape Hermione’s hold. Then, without warning, Regulus casts a spell and suddenly there is a full-grown man on the ground. “Pettigrew,” Regulus says darkly, before casting a stunner without warning. When everyone turns to look at him, he smiles—and it’s not the smile from earlier. This was a darker thing, a sharper thing, and Harry finds himself swallowing, grip tightening around his wand.
“Well,” Regulus says, glancing at all of them, expression softening—but there’s still a sharpness to him that has Harry on edge. “I suppose it’s time we all went and had a chat with Dumbledore. I’ve got some gifts for him.”
“Gifts?” Lupin asks, raising an eyebrow.
Regulus hums. “The kind of gifts everyone wants. A locket, a ring, a cup. Those kinds of things. They might be slightly ruined, but all the better for it.”
Shaking his head, Harry ignores the adults and turns to his friends instead. Hermione has that thoughtful expression on her face that means she’s figuring things out; meanwhile, Ron just grins at him. “The weirdest things always happen around you mate.” Then, after a beat, he adds, “And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”