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Regulus can't do this. He's 20 years old, and a former Death Eater, and all alone, and he can't do this.

It was supposed to be Sirius in his place, because he's always been the good brother, the responsible one. Nobody would have pegged him as the latter, no, because once he got sorted into Gryffindor he had done his best to distance himself from pre-Hogwarts Sirius as much as possible - and that meant shunning the Black Family (10 year old Regulus included), running away from home at 15, hating anything remotely Dark, and being a reckless idiot.

But Regulus knows him. He knew his brother at 7 years old, he knows him at 20, he'll know him at 60. Even if he acted like a plebian around Potter, Pettigrew and Lupin, he'll always been a Pureblood Heir, and will continue to be one while he lives - no matter how much he might hate the traditions now. He would also never be a traitor.

If Regulus knows one thing, it's Sirius' loyalty (nevermind that his younger self would disagree; he was hurt when Sirius started spending less and less time with him at home during the summer holidays, when he ignored him at Hogwarts, when he ran away and never came back. But he is older now and understands that there is nothing Sirius could have done to help Regulus. Partly because he had no legal way to get him away from Grimmauld Place, partly because his younger self was already under Walburga's thumb by the time Sirius made his escape. Regulus can't fault his brother for getting away from that house). For that reason, he is certain his brother didn't betray the Potters. 

Why would he? Regulus has first hand experience with Sirius' rants about his family's association with Death Eaters, with Him, and the Potters had been his way out. No, Regulus knows his brother; he wouldn't betray a friend, especially not the Potters.

But regardless of his certainty, there is nothing Regulus can do - at least not at the moment. He is a pardoned Death Eater, with no connections of value in the Ministry, and no way to convince anybody that his brother (the supposed right hand man of Him) is innocent. He'd probably only make it worse on himself if he were to start making noise around the Ministry about Sirius; it wouldn't surprise him if Crouch found a reason to chuck him in Azkaban too.

Regardless, as much as it pains him to think it, there are more pressing issues to deal with at the moment (and he is sure Sirius would agree), like kidnapping the Boy-Who-Lived and getting away with it, for example.

Regulus didn't mean to put himself in this position, but there is nothing for it now. It's not like he is going to let the poor baby live with those despicable Muggles. Who knows what the boy would grow up to be, if he even survives childhood with the way those relatives of his keep starving him, throwing him around, and generally being horrible human beings?

Regulus only meant to check up on the boy, because he knows he is his brother's godson, and if he ever sees Sirius again he wants to be able to look him in the eye and tell him he'd watched over the boy as much as possible.

He didn't mean to interfere in any way, at least not now when the boy wouldn't remember him and it would only serve to upset his relatives more. Maybe in a couple of years he could have dropped by every now and again in secret to teach the boy about their world and his role in it; with those Muggles as his family the child would surely grow up ignorant of his heritage and the Wizarding World's history, his place in it.

But he didn't expect to stumble across child abuse and child neglect. That, that wasn't part of the plan. So now it's all gone to hell, and Regulus is panicking because, as he's already said, he is only 20 years old, with a past that is hardly conducive to child rearing, and he wasn't meant to be the one to save and consequently raise the Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived.

He tries to get himself under control, swallowing a few mouthfuls of Calming Draught. It can't be helped; the boy can hardly be raised under such conditions, not to mention the shoddy state of those blood wards surrounding the house. Regulus is good with wards, would have gone on to become a Curse Breaker at Gringotts or something if it hadn't been for the war and almost dying to get one up over that genocidal maniac, so he knew what the wards were the second he Apparated near a dustbin at No. 6, Privet Drive. He overheard Dumbledore discussing the wards with McGonagall last week when he visited to express his thanks to the Headmaster for vouching for him at his Trial, but of course he hadn't understood what the words meant until now, after seeing the wards themselves.

Lily Potter gave her life to protect her son, and in what Regulus can only guess was a ritual of some kind, she cast a protective ward around the boy after her immediate death, thus ensuring he would survive a Killing Curse. It explains how the boy not only lived, but also vanquished the monster, however temporarily, and why he was left with a lightning shaped scar on his forehead - Sowilo is an important rune in most protection rituals.

The thing is, the ritual Lady Potter performed is meant to last only once - against one threat, and one threat only; one sacrifice in exchange for a one time protection. It appears, from what Regulus can piece together, that Dumbledore believes he can maintain said protection by having the boy live with his blood relatives (his aunt and cousin) for 10 consecutive years, enough for the protection to stay in place for the next seven when he will attend Hogwarts for most of the year.

Which isn't a bad idea, Regulus has to give it to him. In theory though. Because the reality is that no blood protection is worth child abuse, and from what he can see, the wards aren't even working properly, they're in shambles. If that is due to the Muggles' atrocious behavior or because the boy does not consider the place his home and his relatives family, Regulus can't exactly say.

The fact of the matter remains, though. He would have to get the boy away from here, and do it fast. Regulus doesn't know if there is anyone already watching the house on No. 4, although he doubts Dumbledore left the boy completely unattended with his relatives, but even if there isn't anyone, he can't take the chance of being spotted loitering around. His anonymity in this is paramount if he wants to get to keep the boy as well, and raise him.

So, with a deep breath to steel himself, Regulus puts up the hood of his dark cloak over his head, casts a Notice-Me-Not on his body, and makes his way over to No. 4. He has a baby to rescue.

Taking Harry away from his Muggle relatives turns out to be pathetically easy. Regulus can't help but think about the possibility of a Death Eater just casually coming in to kidnap the boy or even kill him. After all, it wasn't that hard for Regulus to find the boy's address - how long would it take a determined Death Eater with a grudge to do the same?

Luckily, it was him to find the Wizarding World's savior, not anyone with nefarious purposes.

Regulus has been watching the house for a few days, so he knows that the uncle is at work and will be for another 5 hours at least. He's worried he'll have to stun and obliviate the aunt and cousin to get to Harry, but a few minutes before he makes up his mind to take the boy with him, his aunt comes out of the house with her baby in a stroller, presumably going for a walk around the neighborhood.

While it aggravates Regulus that the woman left a one year old baby alone in the house, it also suits him just fine at the moment. No witnesses are better than obliviated witnesses.

With this thought in mind, Regulus waits until the aunt disappears behind a corner with her son in tow, then swiftly makes his way to the door under the Notice-Me-Not, looking around one more time to ensure no neighbors are watching before opening the door and slipping inside the house.

It's quiet inside, the lock clicking behind him the only sound to disturb the unnatural silence. He has no clue where Harry might be, so he slowly makes his way into the house to look in all the rooms. A Point Me would be quicker, but he doesn't dare use magic inside the house, in case Dumbledore or the Ministry would be alerted to the use of magic.

The living room is empty, same as the kitchen, so Regulus walks back to the front door and makes his way up the stairs to what he assumes to be the bedrooms. The first three doors lead to what he realizes are a guest bedroom, a room filled with toys and other odds and ends, and a nursery, but no sign of Harry. With a furrowed brow, he enters the last room, and is similarly disappointed to find no trace of the boy. Where can he be? He didn't seen the aunt handing him over to a neighbor or baby sitter of any kind, and the stroller contained only a blonde, pudgy baby.

Regulus sighs as he closes the door and goes back downstairs. He surveys the hall once again, ticking off the rooms he's searched and trying to think of a possible hiding place. Just when he's debating sweeping the house again, a clatter rings out in the silence, followed by unmistakable baby cooing. Huh?

His eyes trace the hall before falling onto a door under the stairs. A cupboard of some kind? Surely even these Muggles wouldn't lock a baby unsupervised in there.

Steeling himself, Regulus walks over to the door and opens it. Inside, lying on a dirty cot, is a black haired baby playing with a bottle cap in the darkness, making inquisitive sounds every now and again. His eyes automatically zoom in on Regulus standing in the doorway and a bright smile blossoms on his far too thin face. The sight squeezes at Regulus' heart. He can't have been living with the Muggles for more than a month at most, but their treatment has clearly affected his health already. Not for the first time, Regulus feels glad he decided to check up on Harry as soon as he did, but also terrified at the prospect of taking care of such a small human being. He doubts he can ever live up to the Potters, or even Sirius for that matter, but he knows without a shadow of a doubt he'll do a much better job than Lady Potter's family.

"Hey there, Harry," Regulus whispers, crouching down. The baby smiles toothily at him still. "Uncle Regulus is here to save you from these atrocious Muggles of yours, okay?"

He doesn't know why he's talking to the boy, it isn't as if he can understand him at any rate. But it feels right, and from Harry's delighted squeal he supposes that on some level the boy at least understands the sentiment behind his words, if not the meaning. Although, it could just as likely be simply because he's the first human being to talk to him without shouting since his parents had died.

He scoops up the baby from the cot, looking around for any belongings he might have. He spots a basket with a plaid blanket stuffed into it, so he picks it up for inspection with his free arm. It doesn't seem to be of any value, until he looks at the blanket more closely and notices the Potter Family Crest stitched into it, the text 'Harry James Potter' below it. Regulus decides to take it with him as well.

He straightens up with Harry in his arms, closes the door to the cupboard with a sneer on his face, then makes his way outside. Harry curls up and snuggles closer to his robes as the cold early December air hits them both, and Regulus curses himself for not putting the boy in the basket. At least he'd be covered by the blanket in there.

Not wanting to be spotted, Regulus quickly walks down the driveway, and makes a sharp turn towards the dustbins on No. 6. Once there, he casts a Warming Charm on Harry, who sighs in obvious relief in that way babies do (not that he's been around a lot of babies), then Apparates to one of the lesser known, and hopefully empty, Black cottages in the United Kingdom.

The cottage is empty indeed, but clean, if a bit chilly. Regulus closes the door behind him with a relieved sigh then strides to the fireplace to light it with a flick of his wand. That done, he makes his way further inside, checking the kitchen briefly for any house elves, then inspecting the small living area, as well as the two bedrooms further down the hall. Deciding this would have to do for now, Regulus places the basket on a bed then gently pries Harry's hand away from his robes where he had bunched them up in his tiny fist, and settles the boy in the basket.

Now what?

He obviously has to do some shopping, both to get some baby food for Harry as well as regular food for himself, not to mention diapers, clothes and all manner of things a one year old requires. Now that he thinks of it, a book or two on child rearing wouldn't go amiss either.

The problem is, he can't take Harry with him. Not only would the baby be an inconvenience while shopping, he would also be recognizable to any witch or wizard with a pair of functioning eyes. Disillusioning him is out of the question, it was risky enough to the boy's health when he Side-Along Apparated him here. But he can't exactly leave a baby alone in an empty cottage either.

Regulus pinches his nose in frustration. There's nothing for it; he will have to call a house elf to him, to watch Harry while he's gone. But who? As much as it pains him to admit it, Kreacher can't be trusted with a baby, let alone Harry, a "dirty half-blood". And as loyal as Kreacher is to him, Regulus sadly doesn't trust the old elf not to sneakily let his Mother know of his whereabouts and present company.

A name pops up in his head then. She used to be Grandfather Arcturus' elf when he was alive, and he doesn't think Mother gave her clothes after his Grandfather's passing; she's probably at the Black Manor still, keeping the place tidy with the other elves. Well, it's worth a shot anyway. She will be a better alternative to Kreacher, since she had taken care of him and Sirius when they visited as children on more than one occasion, and she will be more inclined to obey the Heir Presumptive of the House of Black than the crazed widow of the former Lord Black.

Mind made up, Regulus calls her name. "Tilly."

A soft pop announces the elf's appearance. "What does Heir Black be wanting of Tilly, sir?" she bows.

"I need you to keep an eye on my... nephew, Harry, until I return from some shopping," Regulus states. "I won't be long, but I can't leave him alone. You aren't, under any circumstances, to tell Mother or anyone in the Black Family of my presence here or your service to me at this time," he adds.

"Certainly, Heir Black. Would you be wanting Tilly to clean the Black Cottage and cook after you bes returning from the shops as well?"

"That would be preferable, thank you. I'll take my leave now, keep an eye on Harry."

The elf bows again then turns her attention to fussing over Harry as Regulus strides out of the house, Apparating to a less well known, but much less crowded wizarding shopping district similar to Diagon Alley. The last thing he needs is people inquiring about why Regulus Black is shopping for a baby.

He straightens his robes after he arrives at the Apparition point, then, adopting an air of polite disdain customary for any Pureblood which he found over the years makes people less likely to interact with him, Regulus walks out and into the shopping area. His first stop is a clothing store, where he acquires some extra robes for himself as well as some Muggle clothing in case it's needed, and a few outfits he hopes will fit Harry well. He doesn't plan on staying at the cottage anyway, so it seems pointless to buy too much only to have to take it with them when they leave.

He makes the rounds at other stores to pick up some toys, a crib, and other things Harry might need during their planned short stay in England, as well as a bookstore similar to Flourish and Blotts, where he picks three books about child rearing and taking care of a baby, and a couple picture books with stories he plans to read to Harry later. If anything, they'll hopefully help put the baby to sleep faster.

Realizing he has no idea where to get food from (he has always been fed by elves both at home and at Hogwarts), Regulus Apparates back to the cottage. He makes his way back to the bedroom, where he spots Tilly entertaining a laughing Harry with Conjured lights and animal shapes. He smiles at the sight despite himself.

"Tilly, I've returned from the shops."

The elf Vanishes her lights and bows. "Welcome back, Heir Black. What do you bes wanting Tilly to do now?"

"Please put away everything I've bought," he says as he unshrinks his shopping bags, "and please make Harry and me something to eat. Afterwards I'd like you to teach me to give Harry a bath, then you can prepare this room for me with the crib for Harry."

Tilly seems shocked to hear about his request to be taught to give a baby a bath, but bows respectfully and takes the bags from him before disappearing down the hall to the kitchen. Regulus supposes it is surprising that he didn't just ask her to bathe Harry herself, but he wants to learn to do these things himself; he doesn't know if he'll have access to a house elf wherever he decides to leave with Harry, and it's best to be prepared while he has help. On that same note, Regulus adds cooking to the list of things he'll ask Tilly to teach him in the next week or so he plans on remaining here.

"Hello, Harry," Regulus approaches the baby in the basket, smiling softly at the sleepy expression he's wearing. "I know you must be tired, but I'll feed you and bathe you then you can go to sleep all you want, okay? This must have been a weird day for you," he muses.

Harry scrunches his face as if in agreement then grasps his finger with a hand and holds on tight.

"It was for me too," Regulus whispers as he watches the tiny hand playing with his finger. "But it's okay, this is for the better. Hopefully your godfather Sirius will step in to replace me soon, as he should have been here from the start."

Harry coos in recognition at his brother's name and squeals an excited "Pa'foo?"

Regulus is confused for a second before he remembers the ridiculous nickname Sirius had during their school years.

"Yeah, Padfoot. He's not here, but soon he will be, I hope."

"No Pa'foo?" Harry mumbles sadly.

"No Padfoot," Regulus confirms quietly. No Padfoot indeed.

The next three days pass in a blur. Regulus has his hands full with Harry - feeding him, cleaning him when he makes a mess of his food, playing with him, soothing his tooth aches with lullabies Narcissa used to sing to him when he was young and scared of nightmares - as well as securing a Portkey for Harry and him to Bucharest for next week. He would have liked to go sooner, but next Tuesday is the earliest Portkey he can get; not even the Black name can get you much favors these days.

Tilly burst into tears when he asked if she was willing to accompany them to Romania. At first he thought they were sad tears on behalf of leaving the Black Manor, but she quickly reassured him it was out of happiness - apparently he wasn't the only one who'd gotten attached to the little green eyed boy.

All in all, it has been a hectic few days but Regulus is satisfied with his progress. Everything is going according to plan, and no one from his family or otherwise has bothered him yet.

In hindisight, that should have been a warning sign that things were going to change.

Regulus is in the middle of entertaining Harry with Conjured bubbles in the living room when an owl swoops in through the open window and lands gently on the coffee table. Harry gives it a curious look but when the owl ruffles its feathers he goes back to picking at the carpet.

Regulus cancels the bubbles and puts his wand back in the holster on his wrist before reaching for the letter attached to the owl's leg. It's an ordinary barn owl, so Regulus has no idea who it might be from.

With a furrowed brow, he cracks open the seal and unfurls the parchment.

Dear Regulus,

I hope this letter finds you well. We haven't had a chance to talk much since Lucius' trial, and I apologize for my distraction with everything that was going on.

Lucius has been pardoned on account of having been under the Imperius Curse during He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's reign of terror, as you surely have learned of by now. I cannot say I am not relieved to not have to raise my son, Draco, on my own.

Speaking of children, how is Harry? Oh, don't look so surprised, you cannot possibly think I wouldn't have found out, surely? I may be a Malfoy by name, but I am still a Daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I was quite suspicious when I visited the Black Manor to acquire some portraits left lying around and there was no sign of Tilly - as you well know, she had always been fond of us children, and she would never pass up an opportunity to greet me whenever I visit.

Imagine my surprise when the rest of the elves told me they had no idea where she kept disappearing to, and that she had been sworn to secrecy. It wasn't a hard guess as to who would have the power of ordering a Black elf to remain quiet, short of Sirius, of course.

You will have to forgive me for my invasion of privacy, but I was genuinely concerned about your well-being, especially considering we hadn't seen each other or talked in weeks; I had one of my house elves follow Tilly. I was most shocked to discover Harry Potter in your custody. Last I heard, Dumbledore had spirited him away to the Muggle world, nevermind that either you or me or even Andromeda would have made much better guardians to the boy, especially since we share blood on account of Aunt Dorea, the boy's grandmother.

Do not worry, I shan't tell anyone else of this tidbit of information. I am, however, curious as to how you got a hold of young Harry. If it's amenable to you, I would not be opposed to visiting the Black Cottage some time in the future.

I look forward to hearing from you soon, Cousin.

Best wishes,
Narcissa Malfoy of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy

Shocked, Regulus slowly lets his hand drop to his side, the letter slipping from his fingers. He doesn't know how to react. On the one hand, he can't believe how careless he has been about their security; anyone could have sent a house elf to kidnap Harry if they knew his location, and he would have been none the wiser. On the other hand, he is slightly relieved it's Narcissa, of all people, who found out. The two of them, Sirius, and Andromeda were thick as thieves growing up, despite the sisters being older than them; of course, it all went to hell when Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor, when Andromeda refused her betrothal to Lucius and ran away to get married to the Muggleborn Edward Tonks, thus being disowned from the Family.

In spite of that, Narcissa and him kept in touch even after she got married. If he's being honest, some days his correspondence with her and the short visits for tea were one of the only things that kept him going during the war. He trusts her implicitly, perhaps even more than he trusts Sirius. And he can't say he would mind her advice in raising Harry or even a helping hand.

Maybe this isn't such a bad turn of events after all, Regulus muses as he comes back from his stupor to find Harry chewing on a corner of the letter.

"If you were hungry, you could have just said so," Regulus laughs, prying the letter from his mouth and laying it on the coffee table. "I'll pen a reply shortly, please wait here," he tells the owl as he picks Harry up and carries him to the kitchen to feed him again.

Dear Narcissa,

Thank you for your discretion, as well as your understanding. You have always been the only one who truly understood me without judging or jumping to conclusions.

I am well, thank you for asking. I find myself enjoying spending time with Harry quite a lot, even if sometimes I feel overwhelmed and inadequate. I'm still finding my footing around this whole parenting thing. Hopefully, I won't do much worse than the despicable Muggles he had been given to.

I shall fill you in on those details over tea tomorrow at 4 o'clock if that works for you. Feel free to bring Draco with you as well, I'm sure Harry could use some company of similar age and stature.

If the date and time works for you, don't bother sending a reply. I shall await your arrival.

Love,
Regulus Black, Heir Presumptive to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

Narcissa folds back the parchment carefully, and sets it on the table with a smile. She was worried her letter would spook Regulus and make him act irrationally, but she's pleased her worries were unfounded. She is a bit sad to know he didn't trust her from the beginning, but if the vague contents of the letter are anything to go by, the picture they paint aren't pretty at all. She has a suspicion as to how Harry Potter has found himself in the custody of her cousin, and why Regulus has been lying low recently.

No matter, she will help him however she can. There is a terrible shortage of level headed, proper Blacks remaining, and she will be damned if she lets Regulus join the ones currently locked up or worse.

"I won't be available tomorrow from 4 o'clock, Lucius dear. I have some business to sort out, and I will be taking Draco with me," she announces, wiping her mouth delicately with a napkin as she finishes her breakfast.

Lucius raises an eyebrow as he sips his coffee, but doesn't ask anything further. He trusts Narcissa not to do anything untoward or something that would reflect badly on the Malfoy name in these turbulent times.

"Very well. Have one of the elves inform me if you're not home in time for dinner. I have some paperwork to sort through so I'd rather not tear myself away from it if I'm not needed at the dinner table."

"Certainly, my love," she smiles, taking the letter with her as she leaves the table and goes in search of robes for her and Draco to wear tomorrow. She can't wait to see Regulus and introduce Draco to someone his age.

Narcissa arrives at 4 o'clock sharp the next day, Draco in tow. Harry seems overjoyed to have a playmate other than Regulus and Tilly, who, as much as they love entertaining the boy, just don't have that connection all babies and toddlers seem to have with each other.

Regulus, for his part, is glad to finally see a friendly face after all the stress he's been under lately, and seeing Harry happily babbling away with Draco as they play with their toys certainly helps alleviate his stress further.

"It's nice seeing you, Cissa," Regulus says after they've both fixed their cups of tea and have taken a sip each.

She eyes him for a moment before nodding. "You too, Reggie. Although I don't particularly like seeing those heavy bags under your eyes," she scolds as she places her cup back on its saucer.

Regulus winces. "It's been stressful lately," he mumbles, so unlike the perfect Pureblood Heir his parents have agonized years over training him to be. Whenever he finds himself in Narcissa, Andromeda or Sirius' company he forgets all about formality and propriety. They're family.

"I can imagine," she hums, darting a glance at the playpen where Harry is doing an excellent impression of a monkey, with all the waving around he's doing with his hands. Draco, at least, seems to be enjoying it, if the look of rapt attention on his face is anything to go by. "I'm sure you'll agree we should skip the pleasantries and get to the point. How did you acquire the Savior of the Wizarding World, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He was being abused," Regulus sighs. Narcissa gives him a look of alarm and looks as if she's about to sprint to Harry's side to check him for injuries. He continues before she can. "Nothing major, not in that way. But his Muggle Aunt and Uncle were neglecting to change him, bathe him, and feed him properly, as well as grabbing him ruffly by his hand and tossing him in the cupboard under the stairs whenever he cried or displayed accidental magic."

He takes a fortifying breath and sips a bit more of his tea, his hands shaking. Narcissa seems to be in shock, for she has yet to say anything.

"I couldn't leave him there, Cissa," he explains, pleading with his eyes for her to understand. "Even if we hadn't talked to each other in years, I'd promised myself and Sirius I would look over his godson. That's why I came across the abuse and neglect; I'd been visiting discreetly to check he was in good hands and what I saw made my blood boil. James and Lily Potter didn't die for their son to be treated like that at the hands of some filthy Muggles."

Regulus clenches his hands around the cup of tea, even now feeling the anger and anguish he felt when he first discovered the horrible treatment; only now, it's amplified by his love for Harry. He never expected to get attached to the little boy so quickly, if at all, to be honest. But it's hard not to, when in the presence of those toothy smiles, warm laughter, and enchanting green eyes filled with childish innocence. Being looked upon with such love and trust has made Regulus believe that maybe there is something worth loving and admiring in himself after all.

He also can't forget all that he owes the child's parents. For all that he despised James Potter when he first came to Hogwarts, for stealing his brother away, Regulus can't help but feel glad, now, that his brother found someone to take refuge in, someone to look after him and take him in when he couldn't take it anymore at home.

As for Lily... He never told anyone, and he made her swear not to either, but in his fifth year, she found him crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, clutching his recently branded arm. She hadn't flinched from him, hadn't hexed him, cursed him, or laughed at him. Instead, she'd sat down on the wet floor next to him, offered him her handkerchief to dry his tears, and told him it'd be okay. She'd offered her help, telling him it wasn't too late to turn back. At the time, he felt too embarrassed to be seen crying by a Muggleborn, one of Sirius' friends no less, that he'd ordered her not to speak of it with anyone, before storming out. He still wishes he'd taken her up on her offer, maybe Voldemort would have been brought down sooner, and not at the cost of her and her husband's lives, as well as his brother's freedom.

"I think you did the right thing," Narcissa eventually speaks, startling Regulus from his musings. She discreetly wipes a tear away, then clears her throat delicately. "No child should be raised in such a household, especially not a magical child. I assume Dumbledore knows nothing of this?"

"No," he shakes his head, "I doubt he'd approve of my methods of just spriting Harry away, and something tells me he wouldn't listen to my reasonings. He'd simply tell me he'd keep a closer eye on the boy's relatives to ensure their good behavior, and leave it at that."

At Narcissa's dark look at the thought of Dumbledore sweeping abuse under the rug, he hastily adds, "Not that I believe Dumbledore capable of leaving a child to be abused, least of all the precious Boy-Who-Lived, mind. But you know how he is, always going on about giving people second chances and seeing the best in them. He doesn't understand that some people are simply too cruel and hopeless to be saved."

She slowly nods. "You may be right. Well, I imagine you won't be hanging around here much longer, if that's the case?"

"Of course not. Even if Dumbledore had known and approved of the change in guardianship, there are still plenty of Death Eaters roaming around who wouldn't hesitate to go after Harry, and myself, once they realize I actually defected instead of lying my way out, the moment news spreads around of me raising their Lord's vanquisher."

"You're right, of course. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so, Cissa. Not this time. I trust you with my life, but I can't take any chances with this, with Harry. I can't tell anyone where we're going, who knows who might use Legilimency on you, or Veritaserum."

"As much as it saddens me, you are, again, right," Narcissa nods sadly. "But don't hesitate to owl me if you're in trouble or in need of advice, or anything really. You'll always be family, Reggie."

Regulus nods his thanks and smiles at her. She returns it before redirecting the conversation to other topics, asking him how he's faring as a father, offering him advice and teasing him when he almost has a heart attack as Harry floats up to him, making grabby hands, wanting to be held and fed.

All in all, it's a good visit and Regulus is glad he got to see his Cousin before going away. He'd debated owling Andromeda for a visit as well, or at least to let her know, but he can't risk it. Besides, he really doesn't want to put her at risk too; Narcissa knowing is bad enough already.

He lies in his bed that night contemplating her visit, and his plans for the future. To be fair, he doesn't have that many. It's very unlike him, not knowing what he's going to do, but this situation is unlike any he has ever been in too. He knows they're leaving in a few short days. He knows where they're going to live for the foreseeable future and that he won't be coming back to England if he can help it. Beyond that? He's at a loss.

Regulus doesn't want Harry back in England, not now and not ever. Aside from all the Death Eaters still roaming around, and Dumbledore himself who will surely insist on sending Harry back to his relatives, there is also the danger of Voldemort coming back. Regulus isn't stupid enough to believe he'll stay dead, or at least as dead as a man can be when he's created at least one horcrux. Even if it weren't for his knowledge of the Locket, his mark has merely faded to a dull black, it hasn't vanished as it should have if the one who cast the spell to create it had perished off the face of the earth.

And if - when Voldemort comes back, Regulus doesn't believe the man will allow the baby who bested him to walk away freely and live his life, nor will he take kindly to Regulus' betrayal. Of course, his own life matters little to him, has for a long time, but Harry depends on him; he can't let the boy fend for himself. He will need a proper education in all branches of magic, proper training, so that he can hold his own against any Death Eaters or wizards that will wish him ill, and most importantly against Voldemort himself. He hopes that if Harry is ever to find himself in a position where he needs to stand against that monster, that he will at least hold strong long enough to escape or for Regulus to find him.

But that's a long away ahead, Regulus thinks to himself, as the light of the moon shines through the curtains illuminating the large bedroom. His main concern now is arriving safely in Bucharest. He will take it from there one step at a time.

With one last look at the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib next to his bed, Regulus finally slips into Morpheus' inviting arms, and falls asleep with a small smile.

The days leading up to their departure for Bucharest pass in a blur. Narcissa didn't contact him after her visit, except to send one of her house elves with a two-way mirror for Regulus to have in case he ever needs her help. Indeed, it is a safer method of communication if push comes to shove, and faster too, instead of sending an easily traceable owl to deliver messages.

And so, Tuesday finally arrives in a flurry of panic and last minute packing. Tilly is dashing from room to room, making sure everything they need from the cottage is safely packed into the magically extended trunk they are taking with them, muttering under her breath as she mentally crosses things off the list of items.

Regulus watches her with an amused quirk to his lips as he feeds Harry his food, but refrains from saying anything.

"There you go, love," Regulus smiles as he feeds Harry the last spoonful of food. "Now let's get you out of these clothes and bundle you up nicely for the journey."

He carries the baby back to his bedroom, where he undresses Harry from his messy clothes - courtesy of the recent breakfast - and changes his diaper before redressing him in clean and warm clothes. He fits the knitted cap snugly on his small head, giving him a kiss on the nose for being so patient while he dressed him, then picks Harry up again and goes to the entrance.

"All done, Tilly?"

"Yes, Heir Black. Everything be in the trunk, as yous requested," Tilly nods seriously.

"Excellent, thank you. Like I said, Harry and I will Apparate to the Portkey office and take it to Bucharest, and you'll meet us there with our luggage."

The elf nods again. Regulus gives her a smile that he hopes is more reassuring than strained by his internal anxiety, then walks out of the cottage with Harry in his arms and Apparates away.

The Portkey office is crowded when they arrive. Although the noise makes Harry a bit fussy, Regulus is thankful for the chaos; it will be easier to go unnoticed this way.

"Name?" the witch behind the desk asks in a bored voice once their turn comes.

"Black," Regulus replies quietly, trying to sound indifferent.

Thankfully, she doesn't comment, and simply makes him sign the forms she gives him before pointing to another witch a few feet away where he will be taking their Portkey from. He nods his thanks and slips away as another person takes his place at the witch's desk. He shows his signed form, takes the Portkey, and goes back outside to wait for it to activate; his pocket watch ticks away the seconds, and at 9 am sharp Regulus feels the familiar and unpleasant feeling of the Portkey activating, whisking him and Harry away.

A moment later they're standing in a quiet street, right behind some huge rubbish bins that help hide them away.

Harry makes a face but doesn't cry or throw up. Regulus is a bit surprised, frankly, but grateful nonetheless.

"Right then," hemutters, straightening up and walking into the street properly. He finds the address to the apartment Uncle Alphard left him easily, and walks up the stairs to the third floor where the number 15 is shining proudly on the door. Regulus pulls the key out of his pocket, unlocks the door and slips inside, locking it behind him again.

It's not a huge apartment from what he can see. Two bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom, a decent sized kitchen, and an open balcony. It's tidy and empty save for basic furniture - Regulus guesses Alphard either never used it, or he had it cleared of personal belongings before his death.

"Tilly has turned on the heating, Heir Black," the house elf squeaks from the living room, where she's taking things out of the suitcase to arrange in their proper places.

"Thank you, Tilly. I'll get Harry and me out of these clothes then we'll join you for a cup of tea. I reckon Harry is itching to play with his toys after the journey."

Tilly nods as she goes to the kitchen to get started on the tea, and Regulus walks into the bigger bedroom to undress and get Harry comfortable as well.

"Aren't you a good boy?" Regulus coos at the smiling baby as he gets him out of his jacket and thick woolen pants. "Sirius told me I screamed my head off the first time I used a Portkey, and I was two years older than you at the time," he chuckles. Harry laughs in delight, as if agreeing with him, and Regulus can't stop the fond smile from blossoming on his lips.

"You're the most precious thing in the world, you hear me?" Regulus mumbles into Harry's hair as he hugs him close to his chest. "I'll be the best parent I can be for you, Harry. I won't let you grow up the way Sirius and I did, I promise."

Harry clutches at his shirt harder and starts chewing on Regulus' shirt collar in response.

"Let's play with that dragon of yours, you menace," Regulus laughs as he walks out of the bedroom with a giggling Harry in his arms.

The next few days are busy again.

Regulus makes multiple trips in Muggle Bucharest for food, Muggle clothes for both him and Harry, toys, as well as other things they need around the house.

Tilly tidies up the place where dust has settled over furniture, prepares their meals, and rearranges things here and there to better suit their needs. Regulus contemplated turning the remaining bedroom into a nursery for Harry, but the thought of the green eyed boy sleeping alone in the next room made him halt that idea. He'll feel better if Harry continues to sleep in his room in the crib he got him, at least until he grows older.

Currently Regulus is on the mirror with Narcissa, telling her about how they've settled in so far.

"Draco already misses Harry," Narcissa confesses, looking off to the side to who Regulus guesses is the boy in question. "He hasn't had much contact with other wizarding children, except for one playdate a few months ago with the Parkinsons' and Greengrasses' daughters, but he was too young to remember them then."

Regulus nods. "Harry misses Draco too. Every time he plays with the dragon toy he looks around as if looking for him. I wish I could give him what he deserves, but it's too risky."

"I know, Reg..." Narcissa sighs. "Maybe you ought to consider contacting Dumbledore, though, so that you can come back eventually. I'm sure you can persuade him to allow you custody of Harry after he hears how they treated him."

Regulus runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Even if I could, what about all the Death Eaters itching to get their hands on Harry or me? If something happened to me, he'd be all alone again, and this time nothing would stop Dumbledore from shipping him off back to the Dursleys. He'd ensure they wouldn't lay their hands on Harry again, sure," his eyes flash with anger, "but even so, he'd still be unloved and uncared for. He'd grow up with disdain and hatred surrounding him, and we both know words hurt just as much as, if not more so than fists. I know perfectly well what growing up in such a household can do to someone."

He trails off as his eyes fall on the boy he's talking about, happily munching on a piece of bread that he's only succeeded in making soggy, rather than chewing it. He's such a bright child, so full of happiness and joy; Reguls doesn't want to see that snuffed out, trampled on by hatred and fear from those who should care about him and love him. Worse yet, given he ks a magical child, the possibility of Harry ending up hating his magic so much that he becomes an Obscurial because of his relatives is too great. How can he put Harry in that situation again? He'd sooner cut off his own arm than subject Harry to that.

"I know, Reggie... but do you really expect to live there for long, wherever you are? Dumbledore will find you, he has his ways. And you could always use one of the unplottable Black estates in England, where no Death Eaters will find you."

Regulus eyes Narcissa dubiously as he contemplates her words. Can he trust Dumbledore? Can he trust that he will not only keep Harry with him, but also safe as well? He can't take that risk, and he certainly won't be the one to open that conversation with Dumbledore. If, and that's a big if, the old man finds them, then he'll revisit that idea at a later date. For now, Harry is young enough to go without company his own age, and they are as safe as can be, far away from the dangers of Death Eaters and meddling Headmasters.

And if his logic is flawed, well... that's Regulus' business and his business only. The more he thinks about this, the worse his panic and anxiety rise to the surface so he puts a lid on it and redirects his attention outwards.

"Be that as it may," Regulus replies, "I'm not willing to take that chance until it's the only option available. Besides, if Dumbledore is the one to come to me for answers and demand Harry back in England, at least then I'll have a bargaining chip for Sirius' freedom - or a fair trial."

Narcissa raises an eyebrow.

"You know Crouch as well as I do. If that man gave my brother a trial, I'm a hippogriff," he snorts humorlessly. "If Dumbledore wants Harry back home, in my custody mind, then he'll ensure that Sirius gets a trial; I'm sure he'll be cleared of all charges once that happens. If not, then good riddance to England. I have no issues homeschooling Harry until he's old enough to attend Durmstrang."

The words sound hollow even to his ears.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Reg," Narcissa sighs. She opens her mouth as if to say something else but something cuts her off. She nods her head to someone outside Regulus' field of vision, then turns back to the mirror. "I have to go, Lucius wants me in his study for something. I'll call again soon."

"Sure, take care of yourself, Cissa," Regulus waves her off with a small smile.

She smiles back. "Give Harry my love," she replies then cuts off the connection, leaving Regulus to stare at his own reflection.

"Daddy?"

Regulus snaps his head up in surprise, and finds Harry staring at him with earnest green eyes. Surely he didn't... he must be confusing him.

"Are you talking to me, Harry?" Regulus asks breathlessly.

"Daddy!!" Harry squeals enthusiastically, pointing straight at Regulus' chest. Regulus gets up from the couch in a daze and goes to pick Harry up.

"I'm not your daddy, love," Regulus croaks, suddenly feeling a very heavy lump in his throat. He can feel the backs of his eyes stinging suspiciously. "James was your dad, okay? And he's gone now, so I'm taking care of you in his stead, but I'm not him."

Harry scrunches his face up in confusion, as if he can't wrap his head around the notion of a man taking care of him and not being his dad.

"No. Daddy," he shakes his head vehemently, jabbing his tiny fists against Regulus' chest. Regulus opens his mouth to argue, but the sight of tears threatening to spill over those chubby, rosy cheeks stops him. After all, he can't explain it to Harry in a way that he will understand anyway. Not yet. He's choosing his battles this time.

"Okay, if that's what you say, then that's what I am," he concedes. It feels worth it at the sight of Harry's dazzling smile, even if guilt is piercing his heart for a moment; he hopes Potter will forgive him wherever he is.

Regulus pulls Harry close to him and buries his nose in the soft tufts of black hair, inhaling his soothing smell deeply. "I'll be whatever you want me to be," he murmurs.

Harry leans his head on Regulus' shoulder, sighing contentedly. It isn't what either of them deserve - Harry a loving family with his parents, Regulus a place in Azkaban for what he did as a Death Eater - but it is what they need nonetheless. Even if Regulus feels as if he doesn't deserve this piece of heaven with the little boy while the Potters are dead and his brother lies rotting in Azkaban, that small selfish part of him can't help but rejoice at being safe in here, with the most wonderful child in the world. Harry's love is like a balm to his soul - he can't imagine anyone betraying the boy's parents, and thus putting him in danger. How could they?

Narcissa sets the mirror face down on the table and risee to her feet. She signals Dobby to watch over Draco, then follows her husband into his study.

"What is it, my love?" she asks as she closes the door behind her. Lucius is leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, my flower," he begins. Narcissa straightens up at this, equal parts curious and apprehensive at what is to come. "You know I never really believed in the things the Dark Lord promised but I followed him nevertheless because of my father. I have done...numerous things I regret now, things I hope our son never has to see let alone do, things I would be ashamed of Draco knowing about. He already thinks the world of me, thinks me perfect, a role model... I can't bear the thought of his disappointment and disgust if he were to find out about my past actions."

Narcissa nods, her eyes wide. She knows Lucius is a good man in his own way, she never would have married him otherwise. He has always been a good husband to her, and for that, she fell in love with him not long after their arranged marriage. He is a good father to Draco, even if he tends to spoil their only son a bit too much. But she never hoped to hear these words coming from him; before she married him she had known he was a Death Eater and would continue to be one so long as his Lord lived, and she had made her peace with it, as much as anyone can make peace with the reality that their bonded is a servant to a madman. This, however... She almost has the urge to pinch herself to make sure it's real, and she would have, had she not been raised better than that.

Lucius blinks, as if shaking himself back to reality, and continues. "At first I thought Regulus a fool for renouncing our Lord when you told me of his actions. But I have come to respect his bravery to stand against that evil, and I have made the decision to no longer play the role of a good man while waiting, dreading the return of that monster; I want to be a good man. For you, and for our dragon."

He's pacing his study frantically, waving his arms around. Abruptly, he stops, turns towards Narcissa, and approaches her rapidly to take her face in his hands tenderly.

"I promise you, my love, that I will be a better husband and father to you and Draco. When that man comes back I shall stand strong and proud, and protect you both, but I will no longer bow to the likes of him, doing his bidding."

His eyes are full of unshed tears, filled with a look of pure earnestness as they're boring into Narcissa's own blue irises. She can see his sincerity, his regret, his apology; it makes her heart break and mend itself, fuller and brighter than before.

"I believe you, Lucius," her voice breaks as it fights to push words past the lump in her throat. "Thank you."

Hot tears spill over her cheeks, and Lucius tenderly swipes them away, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, everywhere he can reach as he sobs into her arms in return. They hold each other like that for a moment that seems to stretch on for eternity, clinging on to each other and basking in the warmth, the love, the security, the trust that radiates from their embrace. It's a closeness Narcissa hasn't felt to her husband since before the Dark Lord's ascension to power; she didn't know how much of her husband was missing during the Lord's regime of terror until she has him back in her arms now, whole again, and utterly, completely hers.

"He left me with something of his, a diary of sorts, said it was precious to him," Lucius utters again after a few minutes of silence. "I do not know what it is, but it reeks of Dark Magic of the foulest sort. I am debating giving it over to the Ministry, though I doubt they'd let me get away with being in possession of such a Dark object after my recent trial."

Narcissa silently agrees, and her face takes on a contemplative state. She thinks back to Regulus, who made some sort of deal with Dumbledore in exchange for his freedom. She knows not what he gave the man in return, but it must have been something big for him to not even receive a trial.

"Let me speak to Regulus about this first. I think I might have a solution to get rid of it and place it into good hands at the same time."

Lucius nods, trusting his wife with his life.

"Thank you, my love," he says again, kissing her fully on the lips, spilling his gratitude into it.

"I love you, Lucius," she replies, a smile gracing her lipsticked lips. It seems like her cousin will hear from her sooner than he thought. 

Regulus has just put Harry to bed when he feels the mirror vibrating in his pocket. With a puzzled look, he leaves the bedroom and closes the door softly behind him, then pulls the mirror out and answers Narcissa's call.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" Regulus asks, a worried crease between his brows as he stares at his cousin. She doesn't seem hurt or injured, but her eyes are red - she's been crying recently. This does nothing to alleviate his worries.

"I'm fine, Reggie. I had a talk with Lucius. I don't know how to ask this..." For the first time in his life, Regulus sees Narcissa unsure, almost fearful. Just what happened?

"You know you can ask me anything, Cissa. Did Lucius say anything bad to you? Did he do anything?" he almost growls.

"What? No!" she replies, startled. "No, Circe knows that man would sooner cut off his arm than lay a hand on me. No, Regulus, this is about something else. I know you didn't want to tell me what your deal with Dumbledore entailed, and I get why you didn't. But I think Lucius might be in a similar situation as you."

Regulus' eyebrows raise sky high at this. It can't be... ca. it? But, if the Dark Lord has more horcruxes lying around, as he suspects the bastard does, it wouldn't be such a surprise if he gave Lucius or someone else from the Inner Circle one of them to safe guard. It would ensure they  bring him back if something happens to him - of course, if they know what they have in their possession. Somehow, Regulus doubts Lucius does.

"Go on."

"That... man left Lucius his diary a few months before his fall. Lucius doesn't know what it is, only that it's blank and reeks of the most foul Dark Magic he's encountered to date. He wants to get rid of it and cement his stance on the side fighting the Dark Lord, but we don't think going to the Ministry is a good idea considering..." Narcissa trails off.

"Considering he lied his way out of Azkaban once already?" Regulus raises a judgemental eyebrow and Narcissa flushes, nodding. "Yes, I would imagine it wouldn't go over well with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement if one of the people they cleared of Death Eater charges suddenly turned up with a Dark Artefact left over by the Dark Lord himself; after all, why would he entrust something like that to someone he'd Imperiused to his side?" he laughs mirthlessly.

He thinks about it a bit. He can't exactly take it to Dumbledore for Lucius or vouch for his brother-in-law, given his own situation. But, knowing Dumbledore and his penchant for giving people second chances, he doesn't think it will be necessary in any case.

"I suggest Lucius takes the diary and goes to Dumbledore with it and his promise to side with the good guys in the future. If it's what I suspect it is, and I have good reason to believe it is, then neither of you will want that thing in your house, especially anywhere near Draco - it'll be better off in Dumbledore's hands."

Narcissa nods, her eyes grateful. "Thank you so much, Regulus. I wasn't sure if Dumbledore was the right decision, but if you trusted him to grant you your freedom, then I suppose we can trust him with this as well."

"Any time, cousin. You might want to send Dumbledore a letter to announce your visit first, though, give him less reasons to be suspicious."

"Of course," she agrees, smiling at him. "I'd better be off to put Draco to bed, he's been running around the house for hours after Dobby gave him a bit more dessert than advised," she laughs.

"Goodnight then. Call me after your meeting with the old man, tell me how it went."

They bid each other goodbye, then the mirror turns blank once again. Regulus sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"How many of these abominations have you made, you monster?" he mutters under his breath. He just hopes Dumbledore has found, or will soon find a way to destroy them, if nothing else. The less pieces of Voldemort's soul on this earth, the better.

Albus Dumbledore lowers the letter slowly, letting his hand rest on his desk, parchment still clutched in his fingers. The lights flicker in their sconces, casting rippling shadows all across the office and his glasses glint every so often as the moving flames cast light on them. The candles' dance is the only movement in the cluttered office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for a long time.

Although he isn't moving, thoughts chase each other through his mind faster than any skilled Legilimens would be able to decipher. Intelligent blue eyes race over the words imprinted on the parchment yet again, mind working tirelessly through countless thoughts, ideas, worries, questions, and plots. Can it be true? Can it be a trap? Is this part of some nefarious plot, yet again, or is he truly on the verge of gaining two more solid allies in the fight against Tom? These are only a few of the numerous questions buzzing around Dumbledore's head like impatient bees.

The letter in question, an innocuous piece of parchment which rather belies the earth shattering, worldview changing contents within, lies clutched in a withered old hand, and at the bottom, a simple signature brands it: "Lucius Malfoy, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy".

Indeed, as simple as a letter could be, its message rather seems to turn Dumbledore's world on its head. If he is to be believed, Lucius Malfoy wants to publicly renounce the feared Dark Lord, and ally himself with the Light, with Dumbledore himself. The old wizard can't think of a single reason why the pureblood would do such a thing; what has he to gain from this? And why now, after the end of the war, after his trial during which he lied his way out of Azkaban?

It really is a tricky situation, Dumbledore muses. For all his wisdom and experience, he couldn't have foreseen such an outcome - certainly can't determine its veracity at the moment either.

But no matter, he will find out soon enough, he supposes. He can be expecting the Lord and Lady Malfoy in about two hours for their requested meeting, as he's already sent his agreement with Fawkes half an hour ago. Even so, he can't help but read the letter again, over and over, trying to find a hint of... something.

Young Severus only joined their side because of dear Lily, Dumbledore knows, and the only thing keeping him tied to the school and Dumbledore himself is the continued existence of Lily's son, who will be in need of protection once he gets reintroduced to the Wizarding World. Regulus, similarly, renounced the Dark's side of the war in part due to the near death of his house elf, in part because of the atrocity that a horcrux represents. Dumbledore knows that in their hearts, both young men have their regrets over their actions during the war and their misjudgment in joining a cause that only saw to death and destruction, but their initial reasons for switching sides and remaining there are selfish, and have nothing to do with right and wrong in a general sense.

Thus, Dumbledore can't think what selfish reasons Lucius Malfoy might have for coming to him. As far as the aristocrat knows, his Lord is dead; what does he have to lose by remaining where he is? What does he have to gain by leaving?

The chiming of one of his baubles snaps Dumbledore out of his thoughts, alerting him to the presence of two people at the gargoyle entrance to his office. 'My, have two hours passed already?' he thinks to himself, as he straightens in his chair and opens his door with a flick of his wrist, Elder Wand tucked in the holster on his wrist beneath his robes. He's been so lost in thought he's thoroughly lost track of time.

Just then the Malfoy spouses walk into the room. Their stances are rigid, poised and proud, heads held high, expressions neutral, but Dumbledore can read the anxiety in their eyes, the uncertainty in their gestures.

"Lucius, Narcissa, welcome!" he greets jovially. "Come, take a seat."

They both give brief, strained smiles as they nod their heads in his direction. "Headmaster," replies Lucius politely while Narcissa simply inclines her head as she takes a seat.

"Lemon drop?" he asks them, looking at each in turn over his half moon spectacles inquisitively. They both refuse politely, and Dumbledore sighs internally - it's straight to business then.

"I must admit I was very surprised to receive your letter, though I am even more curious about what prompted you to send it. It didn't seem like you had a problem with the regime while it was ongoing." His tone is mild, friendly even, but the accusation is heard loud and clear given the slight flinch in Narcissa's posture, and the tightening of Lucius' hand on his cane.

"Indeed not, Headmaster," Lucius concedes grudgingly with a tilt of his head, "however recent contemplations have brought about changes of heart. Nothing makes you think of the future, as well as past actions, quite like the presence of a child in one's life. My top priority is my son, Draco, as well as Narcissa, as it should have been from the start. My father's... urging clouded my judgment."

Dumbledore hums but stays quiet. He was right to anticipate selfish reasons, after all. But, at least in his mind, he can't fault the Malfoy patriarch for the change of heart. He was, after all, more or less under his father's thumb until about a year ago when Abraxas died, and by then Lucius had already been Marked and sworn to Tom; not much to be done then. And having a child certainly puts things into perspective, he supposes, even if he hasn't had the opportunity to experience fatherhood in his lifetime.

"We have come to offer our assistance for the side of the Light if the Dark Lord is to return some day," Narcissa continues from where her husband left off. "To prove our loyalty and good intentions, we have brought you a Dark Artefact he left Lucius before his demise."

Dumbledore's interest piques and he leans forward in his chair, watching as Narcissa pulls a black book out of her bag, placing it on the desk. He picks it up, examining it carefully, and his eyes widen as he spots the name engraved into it. The pulse of Dark, cloying magic emitting from the book is disturbing yet so familiar - Dumbledore would recognize Tom's magic anywhere.

There is no doubt in his mind that this object is a horcrux, yet another one. He shakes his head in sadness for the brilliant student Tom once was; to fall so far into the Darkest of magics, to rip one's soul to shreds in a desperate bid for immortality... it saddens him more than he can express. If only he'd been more careful in his treatment of Tom, maybe the young boy wouldn't have turned into an insane murderer.

"And are you prepared to face the backlash of your fellow associates currently roaming free in the Ministry and the streets of Diagon Alley? Or the wrath of your Lord once he comes back?" Dumbledore asks them gravelly. He doesn't mean to discourage them, but they have to be aware of the dangers, the risk they are taking; they are still so young, barely mid twenties the both of them, with a young son Harry's age. It won't do for them to turn spies for Tom at the last second because of their fear.

"We are quite aware of the dangers, Headmaster," Lucius replies. "Narcissa and I have discussed this extensively and we both believe this is the best choice for us and our son. If we want him to grow up in a better world than we made it, we must take these risks."

"Very well. Then I accept this as proof," Dumbledore holds the diary up, "and you can count yourselves as members of the Order of the Phoenix, discontinued for the moment as there is no Dark Lord to fight nowadays."

Lucius nods regally, while Narcissa gives him a brief smile. Though still tense, both seem relieved, as if a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

"Thank you for accepting us," Narcissa says. "And thank you for your time in hearing us out."

"It's always good to see young people coming back on the right path after straying too far. I'm glad you saw reason on your own, before it was too late for either of you or your child."

They both nod, and rise to their feet. Dumbledore rises from behind his desk as well, and nods back.

"We'll keep in touch," he says.

"Good day, Headmaster. Thank you again," Lucius replies as he holds open the door for his wife, looking back at him one last time before departing.

Dumbledore sits back down in his chair, looking from the horcrux on his desk to Fawkes.

"Well, this certainly complicates some things and simplifies others, doesn't it, my dear friend?" he tells Fawkes. The phoenix looks at him steadily before going back to grooming his wings. Dumbledore chuckles, "Yes, I quite agree."

The next two months pass surprisingly fast, in Regulus' opinion. He keeps busy with caring for Harry, but it's the nice kind of busy. The boy is a delight to be around, and despite the rare temper tantrums thrown because his gums ache or because he's too cranky to sleep at night, Regulus wouldn't trade it for the world.

And really, he doesn't mind the sleepless nights spent cradling Harry to his chest as he leans against the headboard of his bed and reads him children's books or tells him stories of Sirius and the boy's parents, or hums long forgotten lullabies under his breath, rocking the baby on his chest softly to sleep.

It's a nice change from the nightmares that plague him anyway. He doesn't sleep too well these days, what with all the horrors he witnessed or took part in under the Dark Lord's regime. If it's not that, then it's the suffocating feeling of drowning in that damned lake, the slimy feeling of hands reaching for him under the water, scratching him, pulling him down down down. He always wakes up drenched in sweat, a strangled scream trapped in the back of his throat after those dreams. Afterwards, he just sits in the armchair next to Harry's crib, slumped in exhaustion, heart still gripped by fear, and stares at the sleeping baby for hours until dawn breaks. The gesture seems to calm him down somewhat, grounding him in reality, reminding him he isn't in the lake anymore, that he is here, now, alive and well, with a huge but welcomed responsibility in the form of a green eyed baby. Sometimes he falls asleep in the armchair for another hour or two close to morning, others he just gets dressed for the day and picks Harry up for his breakfast.

All in all, life isn't easy but it's good.

Today he has plans to take Harry to a shopping area similar to Diagon Alley, to buy some Christmas presents and decorations. There are still two weeks until the 25th, but Regulus doesn't want to leave it until the last second, especially with how swarmed the shops will be that close to the holiday. He doesn't personally celebrate Christmas, he prefers the traditional Wizarding Yule celebrations, but he knows James and Lily Potter hadn't followed the traditions and he wants to honor them for Harry's first holiday with him. Besides, the boy is too young to understand or even remember a Yule celebration anyway.

"Tilly, can you change Harry's diaper and clothes while I finish my breakfast?" he asks after he sips some of his remaining coffee.

"Of course, Heir Black," the tiny elf nods, bouncing on her feet as she gently picks a smiling Harry and disappears with him down the hallway.

He is just reading an article in Profetul Românesc, the romanian branch of the Daily Prophet, when a tapping at the window draws his attention. He rushes to open it to allow the owl inside, staggering into the table in shock as a fiery red phoenix flies inside and lands primly next to his half finished plate. The bird seems unconcerned with the fact that he hasn't taken the letter clutched in its talons yet, and simply looks steadily at Regulus with beady, black eyes.

Regulus feels close to fainting.

He knows this phoenix. Really, there aren't that many lying around, certainly not enough to act as messenger owls for just about anybody, and even if there were, Regulus knows this phoenix well. Fawkes is its name, if he remembers correctly, and it's Dumbledore's familiar. Fuck.

With trembling legs, Regulus approaches the bird and collapses into his chair. He takes the letter carefully from the phoenix, and looks at the envelope. There, in neat, loopy writing, someone has spelled his doom: From: Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore | To: Regulus Arcturus Black.

Fingers shaking, he takes a deep breath and opens the letter; better to dive into it and be finished than wallow in panic.

My dear Regulus,

I'm offering my deepest apologies to be contacting you after so long only to bring bad news. I won't bother you with pleasantries, as I know you can't stand them - although a bit of cheering up would do you well, my boy, as you are young still!

Alas, to get to the point of this letter: Harry Potter has gone missing.

I am ashamed to admit it has taken me this long to figure it out, but the safety measures I had implemented at his place of residence before placing him there had not alerted me to his departure. If it hadn't been for the watcher I'd placed near his house, who noticed the boy's suspicious and rather abrupt absence from his relatives' daily lives and promptly alerted me as soon as she realized it, I do not want to know how much longer would have passed until I became aware of the situation.

I cannot understand how and why his relatives hadn't informed me of this rather alarming turn of events as soon as it happened. Sadly, they are unaware as to how little Harry came to disappear from his house.

I am informing you because I know you seemed interested in the boy's fate on behalf of your brother a few months ago, right around the time Harry went missing. I am sure you know as well as I do how important his safety is - in England, where I can watch him closely and come to his aid should he be in danger. Maybe you have some information about possible Death Eaters who might have found Harry's location and went after him.

I apologize for sending Fawkes to deliver this letter, I am sure he gave you quite the shock with his appearance, but I was desperate to reach you seeing as none of my previous letters could find you by conventional means. I can only assume the grief of the war has driven you out of the country.

I have already contacted all of the Potters' old friends who might have had a reason to take it upon themselves to "rescue" young Harry from his Muggle relatives, misguided as they would have been. None have been involved.

I would appreciate a prompt reply, if possible. I take Harry's safety very seriously.

Best wishes,
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Regulus' hand has been steadily gripping the parchment tighter and tighter as he reads the letter, and now it's almost a crumpled mess in his clenched fist. He balls it up in frustration and throws it hard on the table, narrowly missing the phoenix grooming its wings who shoots him a disgruntled look before getting back to it.

"How dare that man talk to me so condescendingly, telling me I'm misguided, implying Harry didn't need "rescuing"," Regulus seethes, biting his tongue to keep from shouting. His previous panic has made room for pure, unbridled fury and indignation. He knows Dumbledore isn't a bad man, and he probably thinks he's doing the right thing, but Regulus couldn't care less about what the old coot thinks in this moment; all he wants is to strangle him with his bare hands.

He probably thinks himself clever at the wording of that damned letter. Not outright accusing him of anything, since all Dumbledore has is circumstantial evidence at best, guesswork at worst, but heavily implying he suspects Regulus of having kidnapped Harry. Of course, it doen't fool him, Slytherin extraordinaire that he is, but it's obvious Dumbledore wasn't aiming for it either. He knows exactly what he's doing and saying, and as the reproachful and disappointed tone of the letter implies, he expects his word and will to be absolute and for Regulus to obey the veiled command to hand Harry over.

Oh, Regulus will show him misguided. If the old Headmaster thinks Regulus Arcturus Black, Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, raised by the ruthless Walburga and Orion Black, is going to let him talk to him as if he's an unruly 11 year old, and that he'll take his subtle admonishments lying down, then he has another thing coming. Harry will never go back to those despicable people, who hadn't bothered to even call the authorities about the missing child, let alone the Headmaster, if he has anything to say about it. Good man or not, Albus Dumbledore will have to go through Regulus if he wants to get at Harry.

Of one thing the 20 year old is certain - if an Inferi infested lake created by the Darkest Lord of the Century didn't manage to best him, then Albus fucking Dumbledore sure as hell isn't going to. 

"Here you go," Regulus snaps at the phoenix currently giving him a piercing look, shoving the letter he finished writing five minutes ago in its direction. "He's got his response, now shoo. I have shopping to do and a baby to entertain."

Fawkes continues to look at him in that searching way, before giving in, taking the letter in its beak and flying out of the window.

Regulus breathes a sigh of relief now that the bird is gone. He massages his temples, trying to push away the anger and worry bubbling up inside him. There is nothing Dumbledore can do, anyway. He doesn't have their location and it's only thanks to the phoenix's magical powers that Regulus was able to be found to receive that letter. The old man won't go to the Aurors with this because he'd first have to explain why he handed the Wizarding World's Savior over to a pair of Muggles in the first place, instead of a blood relative from their world; because although James left no siblings or parents alive and Lily's only relative is her Muggle sister, there is Black blood in the Potter Family thanks to Dorea Potter nee Black being Harry's grandmother. Anyone from Regulus to Narcissa to Andromeda could have taken Harry in after the disaster that occurred on Halloween.

Besides, if Dumbledore gets desperate enough to resort to Aurors, Regulus is confident he'd convince them he only did what any blood relative would - took a magical child out of an abusive situation to raise him himself. Even if they deem him unfit to raise Harry because of his age or Death Eater past, Andromeda will definitely pass as fit and take Harry in.

So really, Regulus has nothing to worry about.

So why is he still so anxious?

"Tilly be done dressing little Harry for the trip, Heir Black."

Regulus snaps from his inner turmoil to send the elf a small smile then takes the baby from her arms.

"Let's do some Christmas shopping, love," he tells the boy who gives him a toothy smile. "We won't be long, Tilly," he calls over his shoulder, then leaves the apartment with Harry.

It's cold outside although it hasn't started snowing yet, but Regulus casts a Warming Charm on them both before exiting the apartment building. The streets are bustling with people going from shops to farmer's markets in preparation for the upcoming holiday. He decide to stop by a market to look at the fruit and vegetables on display, passing a Muggle man arguing with an old lady selling pork parts over the prices ("Dincolo era mai ieftin, ceri prea mult pentru niște ciolane de porc și un cap" / "Dacă nu-ți convine, cumpără din altă parte!").

[Translation: "It was cheaper in that other place, you're asking too much for some pork feet and a head" / "If you don't like it, shop somewhere else!"]

Regulus shakes his head with a smile. Whether it's Muggles heckling over the price of meat or Wizards heckling over the price of Potions ingredients, they are all the same at the end of the day, aren't they.

"Bana!" Harry exclaims with a gasp, pointing at one of the stalls they pass.

"What is it, Harry?" Regulus follows his finger to see what caught his attention - an old woman selling bananas.

"Would you like a banana, sweetheart?" the old woman coos as they approach her stall. Harry claps his hands in delight, his big green eyes even bigger and rounder.

Regulus widens his own in surprise though. "You speak English?"

"A bit," the old woman replies, peeling a banana and handing Harry a small piece with a smile. "My grandchildren were raised in America by their parents, I learned to talk to them better. Vorbesc ei română dar nu prea bine," she laughs. [Translation: They speak romanian but not very well].

"Vorbiți bine engleză, totuși," Regulus replies, his English accent obvious but his grammar and vocabulary perfect. [Translation: You speak English well, though.]

"Thank you. I was worse a year ago, trust me."

Regulus laughs, understanding the difficulty of learning a foreign language only too well. "How much for that banana?" he asks, getting ready to pull some money out of his pocket.

"Keep it, he's a sweetheart, reminds me of my Adelin, youngest grandson." She smiles at the happily munching Harry then hands Regulus the rest of the banana.

He takes it with a word of thanks, says his goodbyes and continues on his way.

They don't stop at other stalls after that since nothing catches his eye, and he doesn't want to keep Harry outside for too long. Regulus takes them to the entrance of the Wizarding Shopping District which lies behind a rundown hospital, and does the shopping, keeping a careful eye on what toys seem to catch Harry's eye to give him an idea of what present to get him. He also picks some chocolate bars for Tilly, as well as the brand of tea he's seen her drinking, and on a whim makes a quick stop by a jeweler and gets a silver bracelet imbued with protective charms to send to Narcissa and a pair of earrings with the same charms for Andromeda.

When they get back to the apartment, they're both a bit cranky because of the cold and hunger, so Regulus deposits his shopping in the living room then prepares Harry his meal.

"After you eat, we'll go in my room and take a nap, how does that sound, love?" Regulus murmurs to Harry as he feeds him another spoonful. The baby doesn't even register his voice, too focused on the next bite which he swallows with gusto. "Fair enough," he chuckles, loading another spoon for the boy.

After he feeds Harry, he eats his lunch as well, changes the boy in a onesie, and settles in bed with him for a well deserved nap.

Harry has just fallen asleep curled up next to his body on the bed when Regulus feels the two way mirror vibrate on his nightstand. Curious, he picks it up and answers the call.

"There you are! I've been calling for hours," Narcissa huffs, irritated. 

"Sorry, I've been out shopping and didn't take the mirror with me. I've just put Harry to sleep and I was about to follow his example," Regulus explains sheepishly. "Has something happened?"

"Nothing urgent, I just wanted to check in on you. I got worried when you wouldn't answer," she sends him a glare before relaxing her face into a small smile. "Next time take it with you, you never know when you need it. How's the munchkin?"

"He's fine, he had a blast charming every shopkeeper we encountered today. I couldn't keep track of how many candies he got from people, I think there's an entire bag of them stuffed in the pockets of my coat now," he laughs.

Narcissa snorts. "I'm not surprised, he's an adorable boy, especially with those big green eyes of his and that unruly hair sticking every which way on his head," her tone is fond, blue eye warm with amusement. "Do you have any plans for Yule?"

"Not really," Regulus shrugs, "I'll do the ritual on my own then spend Christmas with Harry."

"Since when do you celebrate the Muggle holiday?" she narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. 

"I don't, but his parents did and I want to give him a piece of them this year. I'll introduce him to the Yule celebrations when he's old enough to understand them, don't worry."

"If you say so." She doesn't sound convinced, but she changes the subject anyway, "any news in your life?"

And so, Regulus proceeds to tell her about the letter from Dumbledore, and his reply. He spares no detail, and he feels gratified when Narcissa shares his thoughts and expresses her anger at the Headmaster as well. It feels good to hear her ranting, becoming more animated and less stiff and poised as her Pureblooded education taught her. It almost feels like they are kids again, moaning about adults and their stupid rules about etiquette when all they wanted was to chase each other in the snow and get soaked to the bone by the time they came back inside.

He is grateful to have Narcissa on his side, even if he still feels guilty about not having talked to Andromeda in months. He hopes he can solve things with Dumbledore soon, and be able to contact her in peace, or even see her. He misses his other cousin almost as much as he misses his brother.

They talk for a bit more after that, then end the conversation as Narcissa has to go back to the preparations for the Malfoys' annual Yule Ball. He bids her goodbye, promising to talk again soon, then curls up around Harry and falls asleep himself. He dreams of celebrating Yule with Sirius, Narcissa, Andromeda, their families, and Harry and it's one of the best dreams he's had in a while.

Dumbledore is just about to get up from his chair and head down to the Great Hall for lunch when Fawkes comes into his office and deposits a letter on his desk.

"Thank you, my friend," he picks the letter up and confirms it's from Regulus. He's curious what the young man has to say. He isn't proud of the way he all but accused him of kidnapping Harry Potter, but all the evidence is pointing in that direction. Of course, he doesn't want to involve the Ministry in this, fearing that should Harry be found, any of the former Death Eaters working for the Ministry won't hesitate to gain custody of the Boy-Who-Lived and even succeed. Indeed, he's rather hoping it's Regulus who took the young boy, if only because he can be reasoned with, and because Dumbledore knows the young man only did it out of a misguided sense of responsibility, not to harm the boy.

He doesn't hesitate to break the seal on the letter, and unfolds the parchment to read.

Headmaster,

I cannot say I was much too pleased by your phoenix's sudden appearance, if only because it was so unexpected. I apologize for being unreachable, I have no idea what might have stopped your letters from coming through. Maybe you should check your owls, who knows what might be wrong with them.

As for the contents of your letter, I haven't the faintest idea what you might hope to learn from me. Last I heard, the Potters' son was living with his relatives, as you so kindly informed me when I visited your office. Other than that, my mind draws a blank. I hope you can find him soon, though.

I have to admit I'm a bit surprised you of all people wouldn't notice something like that happening right under your nose; the impression you gave me was that Harry Potter was an important person to you indeed. To make such an oversight... my, one shudders to think what else you might have overlooked. For example, I have complete confidence you looked into Sirius' trial to understand what went wrong there, how and why he might have betrayed his best friend, the man he abandoned his own brother for. Too, I'm quite certain you looked into Harry Potter's relatives' minds quite thoroughly to determine what was going on in that house, and whether little Harry might have had a strong enough reason to simply magic himself away from their care.

I'm sure you've done all of these things and more, and that not noticing his disappearance for over two months is simply a one time error; an outlier, if you will.

Regardless, I wish you the best of luck in finding the boy. Let's just hope you might learn something from this unfortunate situation.

Respectfully,
Regulus Arcturus Black, Heir Presumptive to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

Dumbledore lowers the letter on the desk, taking his glasses off as well and discarding them somewhere on the wooden surface. He rubs the bridge of his nose as he struggles to think, to make sense of this entire situation.

Is Regulus implying he is incompetent? Or willfully blind? There is no other explanation for the pointed comments regarding Sirius' imprisonment and Harry's family. Is he only trying to send him on a wild goosechase while he makes sure Dumbledore can't find them to take Harry back? Or is he really convinced Sirius Black might not have done what he's been accused of, that the Dursleys aren't good guardians for Harry?

All these thoughts and more circle his mind as he stares off into nothing.

It is possible, he reasones. He is a human being after all, not at all the All Seeing, All Knowing, Great Albus Dumbledore everybody seems to think he is. It only takes a look at Ariana's death and the circumstances surrounding it to tell that Albus Dumbledore is a man like any other, just as fallible as anyone else.

This isn't the reason he half refuses to accept that possibility that he's been wrong, no. The real reason has more to do with his conscience. The thought that an innocent man has been rotting away in a prison cell, surrounded by Dementors day in and day out, because Dumbledore had been to shocked, too grief stricken to face him...it is too much. And little Harry as well, depriving him of a fit guardian who would love him and cherish him as much as his parents had, if not more. Worse, the possibility that the Dursleys might have done more than simply not love Harry as much as their son, as he had hoped, it simply tears his heart apart.

He thinks back to those innocent green eyes, staring at him sleepily as he laid the basket down on the front steps of Number 4, Privet Drive that night, and he instantly knows that even if none of those things are true, he owes that little boy too much. The least he can do was try. He promised his parents he'd keep them safe, and he failed. He promised Minerva the Dursleys would care for him as best they could, and he failed. He won't fail again.

The lives of at least one innocent person, if not two, have to come before his plans and preparations for the future, at least this once.

Dumbledore hopes Regulus is lying, or simply trying to make him doubt himself and look into non existent issues while he goes further into hiding with Harry. He really does. The alternative hurts too much to think about.

Waves crash against the shore angrily, spraying water everywhere before receding and starting anew. It's cold, freezingly so, and the wind howls relentlessly, but more than that, a dark aura surrounds the island, a foreboding feeling traveling through any who dare gaze upon the wretched place, freezing the blood in their veins. The closer one gets to the island, the sadder they become; depression, anxiety, an uncomfortable yet confident feeling that you will never feel happy again because what is there to be happy about anyway?

Of course, the unfortunate few who visit for one reason or another have the luxury of protection in the form of Patronuses - if they can cast them, that is - to guard themselves against the Dementors. For that is the source of the depressing feeling, the creatures that suck every last ounce of happiness out of a soul before devouring it whole.

And in this place, on this cursed island, lies the dark, imposing building which houses Wizarding Britain's most foul: Azkaban Prison. In one of the cells of Azkaban, between a crazed, curly, dark haired witch currently scratching the walls with her bleeding nails and mumbling to herself with a deranged smile, and a slowly dying 19 year old boy with blond hair who keeps crying for his mother and cursing his father for sending him to prison, sits a shaggy black dog.

The dog is thin, so thin that one could probably study its anatomy by counting each rib and naming them correctly. There is nothing special about this dog, except for the unusual blue, almost grey or silver eyes it's sporting, and the fact that there is no reason or explanation for a dog to be in a prison cell. Yet there it is, curled up on an old and dirty mattress so thin it barely counts as a mattress anymore, its paws curled over its eyes, as if trying to block its surroundings from view.

The crazed witch continues her mumbling, nobody paying her much attention as they are too busy reliving their own worst nightmares. The teenager has gone silent, most likely having passed out again - it's been happening more and more often, and the dog thinks it won't be long before the cell becomes empty. In a way, it might even be a blessing, at least then he'll be free of this torture.

And the dog? Well, the dog quietly changes into a tall but thin as a stick wizard, with lank hair hanging over his face like a curtain; it might have been wavy and voluminous once, but now it just hangs limply down his shoulders. He changes just in time (planned like this, of course) for the human guards to come and deliver their solitary daily meal. He settles back on the mattress, leaning with his back to the wall, facing the cell door, and waits to receive his meager meal.

Imagine his surprise when instead of his usual guard, he finds himself face to face with an unknown witch about his age, maybe a few years older, with a square jaw, close-cropped dirty blonde hair, and a monocle.

"Congratulations, Mr. Black, you're getting a trial."

Sirius Black, for that is his name, gets up slowly from his position and stares at the witch in disbelief. Before he can begin to even understand her words, however, she opens his cell, grabs his hand gently but firmly, and pulls him along as she makes her way along the corridors of Azkaban, down the numerous flights of stairs and into a boat.

The feeling of iron manacles appearing out of thin air and securing themselves around his wrists finally breaks him away from his stupor.

"Who," he coughs, almost choking on his words, "who are you?"

The witch gives him a tight lipped smile. "Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as of a month ago."

"And what's this about me getting a trial?"

"I realized, when someone contacted me about the details of your trial transcript, that there were none. Upon further investigation, I came to the conclusion you hadn't received a trial to begin with, which is a gross miscarriage of justice. Guilty or not, Mr. Black, everyone deserves a trial. You will be housed in the Ministry holding cells for two weeks until your trial, while you recover as best as possible from the Dementors' effects with the help of a medi-witch or wizard so that we can administer Veritaserum for a swift and decisive trial. No reason to drag it out, wouldn't you agree?"

Here she finally looks him in the eye, a shrewd look in her hazel irises. Too baffled and exhausted to answer, Sirius simply nods and leans back in his seat, letting the rocking of the boat lull him in a light slumber. Maybe not all hope is lost, after all.

Regulus didn't hear from Dumbledore after he sent his response, almost two weeks having passed since then. He doesn't know if he's relieved or not.

On the one hand, he hopes it means that the Headmaster won't bother them anymore, at least not for a little while. On the other hand, he had hoped his letter would spur the man into action, giving his brother a trial and investigating the Muggles' treatment of Harry to convince Dumbledore they weren't fit guardians for the boy.

If he is being honest with himself, Regulus misses Britain dearly. Romania is a nice country and the Wizarding Community here is very welcoming, being much more open minded regarding Dark and Grey Wix as well as creatures, and Wix with creature blood, but it isn't home. The culture is different, the foods, the language, everything is foreign to him. Most of all, he misses his Cousins, he misses Kreacher; he is so very lonely, with only the company of a baby who can barely understand him and an elf who, although devoted and kind, isn't a very good conversationalist.

He still hopes the old man will uncover everything he suggested in his letter so that he can come home. Narcissa's suggestion of taking residence in one of the less known, but unplottable Black residences in Britain keeps ringing in his head. They could live there, safe from any free Death Eaters who would risk their shaky standing in the Wizarding World to harm or kidnap Harry, or take revenge on him for defecting (as if they didn't also betray their precious Lord by claiming they'd been Imperiused during the War).

To take his mind off his restless thoughts and worries, he's decided to decorate the apartment with Christmas decorations and a tree. Harry is sitting on the couch amusing himself with a string of tinsel while Regulus assembles the artificial tree he bought at a Muggle shop. Some Christmas carols are playing on the TV, and the house smells of Tilly's baking.

The atmosphere sends a pang of nostalgia and longing in his heart, but Regulus pushes it aside resolutely as he finally finishes setting up the tree. There are 4 days left until Christmas, he can survive the holidays on his own. At least he isn't completely alone.

"Let's put that around the tree instead, hmm?" Regulus smiles at Harry as he unwrapps the tinsel from around the boy. Harry smiles brightly at him and extends his arms in the universal "pick me up" gesture. "Of course you're helping me, I wouldn't dream of decorating this on my own," he chuckles, picking Harry up and letting the boy hang the decoration on the fake branches with a look of deep concentration on his face. He doesn't do a very good job, seeing as the tinsel barely clings to the tree, but he's so proud of himself Regulus doesn't have the heart to correct it.

"Very good," he praises, giving Harry a smacking kiss on his chubby cheek, "now let's put up the rest."

They manage to put up the rest of the tinsel and colorful globes, Harry shoving the star on top of the tree with glee at the end. They celebrate a job well done with some hot chocolate courtesy of Tilly, and spend the rest of the afternoon in the living room, watching some Christmas themed cartoons that Harry seems to enjoy. Regulus is still baffled by the TV, but he figures it can't hurt if it keeps Harry busy and entertained.

It's nearing 8 in the evening when an owl taps on the window, right when he's exited his bedroom after putting Harry to sleep. Equal parts curious and apprehensive, Regulus opens the window and lets in the nondescript barn owl that settles on the kitchen table, holding out its leg to be relieved of the letter it's been carrying. Regulus can't think of anyone who would know where he is, who even knows the location of this apartment, so he casts a series of diagnostic charms on the letter before taking it from the owl once he deems it safe.

The owl hoots in displeasure, as if offended Regulus didn't trust its delivery.

"Don't be like that," Regulus mutters, pushing a cup of water towards it and inspecting the letter. His heart jumps in his throat when he sees the familiar writing on the envelope, and he rips it open hastily, starting to read it with bated breath.

Dear Reggie,

First of all, I suppose I should thank you for my release. Dumbledore told me it was you who suggested he look into my trial, which prompted all of this. I'm a free man, now, since it didn't take long for the Ministry to realize its incompetence and declare me free of all charges. I still feel betrayed that not one of my remaining friends or allies believed in me enough to not take the accusations at face value, but it feels good that at least my estranged brother knew me well enough to believe in my innocence.

Now that the thanks are out of the way, would you mind telling me why you kidnapped my godson and left the country with him? I won't jump to conclusions as I often used to do, because I find it hard to believe you would do something so reckless with bad intentions after you secured my release. But I would really like an explanation. Dumbledore didn't tell me much, except that he had placed Harry somewhere Death Eaters wouldn't look for him, where he'd be taken care of until his 11th birthday. Given this information, why would you take him away?

I feel like something isn't adding up, and as much as it pains me to say, right now I trust Dumbledore very little. I know he has good intentions, but after everything that's happened, I don't think his good intentions lead to good results. So please, I would like to hear your side before making a decision.

I hope you and Harry are doing fine in Bucharest. Don't worry, I haven't told Dumbledore anything and I don't plan to until I hear from you. And don't act so surprised, I knew Uncle Alphard better than you and he told me about the apartment he left you in his will before he died; it wasn't such a stretch to figure out where you'd gone, since nobody can find you.

I'm staying at my apartment in London that I bought with the money Alphard left me, the address is written on the back of this letter. I hope you'll write me soon and we can meet up or something, we have a lot to discuss.

Give Harry my love,
Sirius

Regulus places the letter on the table gently and wipes his eyes of tears. He hadn't let himself hope, especially after hearing nothing from Dumbledore or in the news. But now...now he has his brother back. He can barely believe it!

"Would you mind waiting a bit for my reply?" he asks the owl, his voice shaking. The owl hoots in response and starts preening itself so Regulus takes that as confirmation and rushes to find a piece of parchment and a quill to send his response.

His heart is beating so wildly he fears it will break out of his ribcage as he pens his reply, telling Sirius to visit as soon as he is able and that he'll explain everything. He ties the letter to the owl's leg with shaky fingers, and collapses on the couch in relief once it flies out.

'Just a little bit longer,' he tells himself as he watches the dark sky outside through the window. Maybe his dream of spending the holidays with his family can still come true.

"Okay, you got this. What's the worst that could happen, he yells at you, takes Harry away and never speaks to you again? No, no, don't go that way, you're only making it worse."

Regulus keeps muttering to himself as he paces around the living room. It wouldn't be a surprise if he wears a hole in the carpet with how often he's traced and retraced his steps in the past half hour, but he can't sit still.

Today he is finally going to see his brother. He got a response in the morning after he sent his reply (he's sure Sirius sent back a letter as soon as he received Regulus') in which Sirius said he'd drop by the next day around 11 am. Which is now.

And he's late.

Regulus huffs in frustration and tries to resist the urge to chew his nails as he resumes his pacing. He doesn't know if Sirius has decided not to come after all, or if something happened to him, or if he is gathering a team of Aurors to bring him in and chuck him in Azkaban, or if-

"You gonna let me in any time soon or are we going to talk through the door?" Sirius' muffled voice from the other side of the door startles his panicked thoughts. Regulus scrambles to open it, cursing under his breath as his clammy hands fumble with the doorknob.

He finally manages and yanks the door open, staring at Sirius like a deer caught in the headlights. His brother is a sight for sore eyes, if he is being honest with himself, even if his stay in Azkaban is more than evident. His hair is clean but still has a dull, unhealthy quality; his clothes are hanging off him a bit in a way that makes it obvious he used to fill them in but has lost a significant amount of weight since then. His skin is sickly pale, his cheekbones sunken in, and there are deep, dark circles under his eyes that no longer shine with the same youth and mischievousness they once did.

Whether that's because of the war or Azkaban or both, Regulus doesn't know.

"Sirius..." Regulus trails off, not really knowing what to say to a brother he's helped get out of prison but whom he hasn't talked to or even seen in years.

"Oh come here already," Sirius steps closer to him and suddenly they are hugging. Regulus stands stiffly for a second before his mind catches up and he wraps his arms around Sirius' thin frame automatically. He hasn't been in this position since before Hogwarts but his body still remembers how it feels to hug his older brother, how to tuck his head in the crook of his shoulder and breathe him in, reveling in the familiarity and comfort.

He doesn't even realize he's crying until they pull away from each other and he notices the wet patch that is left on Sirius' ridiculous band t-shirt.

"Sorry about that," he laughs, discreetly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Nah, it's fine," Sirius dismisses and doesn't even bother to hide that he is doing the same thing. "Mind if I come in now?"

"Oh yeah, of course," he steps out of the threshold to let Sirius come in, then closes the door behind him and leads him into the living room.

"Want some tea?"

"Yeah, sure."

Regulus makes himself busy with putting the kettle on the stove and lighting the fire, getting two mugs out and preparing the leaves, sugar and milk, while Sirius inspects the room curiously, eyeing the scattered toys in Harry's playpen near the couch. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his brother taking a seat on said couch gingerly, as if unsure of himself, and it hurts Regulus more than he thought the sight ever would. When he was a teenager he would have given anything to see Sirius lose his composure and be less of the arrogant prat strutting around with his little band of merry idiots, but now that he knows that it's the product of a war, of losing his dearest friends and being wrongfully imprisoned it isn't a very pleasant sight at all.

He averts his gaze from Sirius and takes the boiling kettle off the stove, pouring the liquid in the mugs.

"How do you take it?" he asks without looking at Sirius.

"Hmm?" Sirius sounds distracted, as if he's been pulled out of his thoughts as well.

"Your tea, how do you take it? I don't know if you've changed your preferences or..." he lets his sentence trail off without completing it. They both knows why he doesn't even know how his brother takes his tea anymore.

"Green, two sugars, no milk," Sirius answers quietly.

Regulus nods stiffly and fixes both their mugs before levitating them over to the coffee table and taking a seat on the only armchair in the living room. They both take a sip each and try to look at the other without making it seem like they are doing it. They both fail miserably.

"So," Sirius clears his throat, "how have you been?"

Regulus almost laughs at how awkward this entire situation is, but he is too nervous, too on edge to judge Sirius' own clumsiness.

"I've been... good. I don't do much these days, except go shopping and take care of Harry. Most of my time is taken up by him."

He hides behind his mug then, wrapping both hands around it to steady himself, letting the heat seep into his fingers and taking a careful, long sip.

Sirius' eyes light up noticeably at the mention of his godson and he sits up straighter in his seat.

"How is he? Has he grown up a lot? Is he here? Can I see him?"

"Whoa whoa, calm down," Regulus laughs, startled. "He's fine, and yes, he's grown up a bit; I've had to buy him new clothes three times since I've had him cause he keeps outgrowing them. Yes, he's in my bedroom, Tilly is watching over him and of course you can see him. But he's taking a nap now, and I thought it might be better for us to finish talking before you see him."

Sirius nods, both excited and surprisingly mature. "You're right, you're right." He takes a sip of his tea as well then continues speaking. "So, tell me, why did you kidnap him? You're obviously taking care of him so it can't be because you have some nefarious plot in mind, and sorry Reggie but I just don't see you as the parenting type, so excuse me for being confused about this whole situation."

It's obvious the nickname slipped past his lips on accident, but Regulus doesn't care because his brother hasn't called him that since they were kids and damn it... his heart feels full for the first time in a long time.

So he takes a deep breath and steels himself for Sirius' protests or possibly adverse reaction.

"I visited Harry's place of residence a month after everything happened," he begins, not looking at Sirius but instead playing with the mug in his hands. "I didn't plan to do anything or even reveal myself to his relatives, I just wanted to make sure he was safe and okay. For you. I knew you'd hate yourself for not being there for him, so I figured I could check on him instead.

"I watched the house for a few days, catching glimpses of him here and there, but mostly through the windows, because they didn't take him outside too often. He'd been left with Lily Potter's Muggle sister and her husband and son," he adds at Sirius' questioning look. "I observed quietly at first, wanting to give them the benefit of the doubt but Sirius... they... they were abusing him. Neglecting him. Punishing him for accidental magic or for crying, for needing his diaper changed, for being hungry, for reaching for his cousin's toys. They yelled at him a lot, grabbed him roughly and shook him around, his aunt slapped him hard across the face when Harry floated a toy to himself from across the room, and they left him in his soiled clothes for hours upon hours, ignoring his crying and just shoving him on a cot in the cupboard underneath their stairs."

Regulus' voice is shaking with distress which is clear on his face, and tears are falling down his cheeks in small rivers. Sirius looks like he's been slapped, eyes wide and hands tightening into fists, knuckles white.

"I couldn't leave him there," he chokes on the words then clears his throat and continues in a braver, if still wobbly, voice. "So I took him away when all his relatives left the house and he was all alone, and fled here where I know nobody would find us. I'd be damned if I let a magical child be abused like that by some fearful, magic hating Muggles. Who knows what could have happened to him there, he would have ended up dead, or worse: an Obscurial or a Muggle hating Dark Wizard."

"Fuck!" Sirius exclaims, banging his fist on the couch in frustration, although his eyes are shining with tears. "Fucking Dumbledore and his second chances. What was he thinking letting Harry live with that bitch and her oaf of a husband."

"I don't know," Regulus answers even if he thinks it wasn't really a questioned aimed at him. "There were some flimsy blood wards around the house, powered by the blood relation Harry has through his mother, but they were so weak any Death Eater could have ripped through them to get to the boy if they so wished."

"Okay, I understand your reasons and I'm not saying you were wrong," Sirius replies after he's taken a few deep breaths to calm himself. "But why didn't you talk to Dumbledore about it?"

Regulus shoots him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me? Do you really think he would have listened to me? Or taken Harry away from there? If he actually believed me and investigated properly, he would have just threatened them not to harm Harry anymore and to give him the basic necessities, but it wouldn't have solved anything. They'd have found ways to still punish and torment him as well as they could, and he would have still grown up unloved and hated. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong."

"Okay, you're right!" Sirius bursts out, springing up from the couch. "But what do you care anyway? Like, yeah, thanks for doing this, I probably owe you my life for breaking both Harry and me out of our respective prisons, but what's in it for you?"

At this, Regulus feels himself being filled with such an all encompassing anger the likes of which he's never felt before. Years of pent up frustration and anger boil in his chest and spill over, and he, too, gets to his feet, face red and indignant.

"Why do I care? What's in it for me? Are you even listening to yourself? Is it so hard for you to think that the slimy Slytherin might have a heart and not want to let a child suffer at the hands of those who're supposed to care about him? Could I possibly simply not want him to grow up the way I did? Has it ever occurred to you I might want to be there for someone in the way no one ever was for me?"

"Oh please," Sirius scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, "when have you ever needed anyone there for you? You've had dear old Mum and Dad, no? They never touched a hair on your head because they were too busy taking out all their disappointment and anger on me! And I was busy trying to survive in that fucking hellhole while paying both for my audacity to exist and for your own fucking messes which I took the fall for to spare your ungrateful ass!"

He screams in Regulus' face, a snarl curling his lips in such an ugly way that Regulus takes a step back for a second before remembering himself and responding in kind as anger surges through his veins like molten lava.

"Yeah well I never asked you to do that!" he yells back just as viciously. "And just because they never touched me when you were home doesn't mean they never did it! You just didn't care enough to stick around or even acknowledge my existence after you went to Hogwarts!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius yells, but it is obvious he's surprised and his fire is beginning to die down.

Regulus has no such problems, as he is desperate to let it all out after years of dealing with it on his own, all alone and desperate, the lonely kid everyone loved but nobody cared about.

"In your first year, while you were busy gallivating with Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew, I was taking the brunt of all of Mum and Dad's punishments! There was no more Sirius to take the fall for my mistakes, no more Sirius to distract them from my imperfections. And of course, since Sirius was such a disappointment, being sorted into Gryffindor and associating with Light Wizards and half-bloods, it was up to little Regulus to become the Heir to the Mighty House of Black! So he had to be perfect!

"I spent hours being tended to by Kreacher for all the lashings and whippings from Mother for not sitting straight enough, not speaking clearly enough, not being able to cast the Cruciatus at fucking 10 years old!"

Tears are streaming down his face and he's started pacing sometime during his agitated speech but he is too angry and distraught to care or notice.

"And when June came and I thought my silver lining was finally coming, that I would see my brother and I'd get a reprieve or at least have an ally in the house, you FUCKING IGNORED ME AND LASHED OUT AT ME!

"You had better friends now, what use did you have for pathetic little Regulus, right? So I understood how things were going to be from then on, and played the part of the perfect little Pureblood Heir. I couldn't be caught slipping, else Mother would beat it out of me, or Curse me for it depending on her mood. And when the Hat told me I was more of a Ravenclaw or even a Hufflepuff than a Slytherin, I argued with it for 5 minutes to place me in Slytherin or I'd set fire to it myself."

Sirius looks truly gobsmacked now and Regulus laughs in his face cruelly.

"Yes, I was a Hatstall. Of course, you wouldn't know about it since you'd been too busy fooling around with your friends.

"So I was all alone again, surrounded by people who didn't care about me, who were nothing like me. The only friends I had were those who knew they'd gain a lot by being close to the next in line to the Black Heirship, and Death Eaters in the making. My entire family was either a Death Eater or a sympathizer, so I had nowhere to go. No one to turn to. Narcissa tried to be there for me, but she couldn't exactly tell me to rebel, she was engaged to a Death Eater herself.

"And you? Where were you during all this? Ignoring me! Or pranking me in a way that resembled bullying more than anything else! And then you left for good without even a goodbye! Maybe you couldn't have taken me with you but you didn't even try! And I understand why you left and I don't blame you, and maybe it's better you got away before they finally snapped and killed you on accident or tortured you into insanity one day, but I hate you for not even trying to be there for me, to pull me to your side and away from their clutches," Regulus cries, anger finally fading away into a weariness that runs bone deep, and he collapses on the armchair, exhausted, burying his face in his heads as he sobs. "It's like I wasn't even worth trying for. And then you got yourself into prison for something I knew you couldn't have done, and I found this beautiful boy who everyone worships for something he didn't even do, who's your godson, and I couldn't live with myself if I let him grow up the same way we did. And I love him more than I thought I could ever love a child, and he's not even mine."

He doesn't even startle when he feels Sirius pulling him to his feet and crushing him in a hug. Regulus clings tight to his brother, letting his tears fall as he hiccups, Sirius stroking his back and holding just as tightly.

After a while he comes back to himself but he remains in that position, feeling so safe in his brother's arms. For the first time in so long he feels like he is home and he wants to cling to the feeling for a bit longer.

"I'm so sorry you went through all that, Reggie. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I was too self centered to realize I wasn't the only victim in that wretched house," Sirius whispers, his voice striken. "I can't change any of it, and no apology could ever excuse that. I was your big brother, I was supposed to protect you and I failed. But I'll do better from now on. I'll make you proud to call me your brother, I promise."

"That's all I want," Regulus whispers back, tightening his arms around Sirius for a second. "Thank you."

Sirius pulls away and looks at him with a pained, teary smile. "That's what brothers are for. Now let's clean our faces up and finish this tea, I want to see my godson as well."

"Sure," he laughs wetly in return and wipes his eyes with a handkerchief, before sitting down on the couch next to Sirius and picking up his mug, chattering with his brother about what he's been up to since his release, telling him stories about Harry in return.

It isn't perfect, and they'll surely fight again over stupid things in the future, but it's a start. Regulus finally has his brother back, in a way that maybe he never had him even before Hogwarts. He can't wait to see where their revamped relationship will take them.

Sirius can't help but fidget as he waits for Regulus to bring Harry from the bedroom. They talked about inane things for half an hour after their argument ended, when they were interrupted by Tilly who announced Harry was awake.

He can't deny that he is nervous. Sure, he loves his godson more than anything else in the world and he can't wait to see him and hold him in his arms, but there are also so many conflicting feelings that are warring in his chest when it comes to Harry. Guilt, for not only urging James to pick Peter instead of him as Secret Keeper, which led to Harry losing his parents, but also for chasing after the rat instead of staying with him. Sadness, because as soon as he lays eyes on him Sirius knows he'll be assaulted by all the grief and loneliness he's been trying to get over - seeing James and Lily in that small boy will undoubtedly undo him. And lastly, fear; fear that Harry won't recognize him anymore, or that he'll somehow know Sirius is to blame for him being an orphan and will hate the sight of him.

"Stop that, you insufferable menace, my hair isn't a chew toy," Regulus' grumbling snaps him out of his thoughts. Sirius looks up just in time to spot the fond smile gracing his brother's lips, belying his earlier words, and Harry's focused little face as he continues to munch happily on a black lock of hair.

"Doesn't look like he cares too much about what you say, Reg," Sirius chokes on his laughter as a sob seems to catch in his throat at the sight of his precious godson. Said boy turns in the direction of his voice so fast that Sirius fears he snapped his neck, green eyes wide and locked on him.

"Pa'foo!" Harry yells. He starts squirming in Reggie's arms, elbowing his brother in the face, and Sirius snorts through the tears. He takes a step forward and frees the boy, taking him in his arms instead. His tears are running freely now while he holds Harry close to his chest, breathing in his scent and kissing the top of his head gently.

"Hey there, Prongslet," he murmurs. Harry clutches him tighter and Sirius slumps in relief as reality finally kicks in. He's here, friends with his brother again, Harry in his arms, both safe and sound. He isn't in Azkaban any longer and he can finally be the godfather James and Lily wanted him to be.

"I'll leave you to it while I prepare his lunch," he hears Regulus whisper as his footsteps recede in the direction of the kitchen.

Sirius sits down on the couch with Harry still in his arms and rubs the little boy's back gently, while Harry hums under his breath. It feels so good to have him back, as if he's been missing a limb this entire time and only now that he has it back does he notice how empty he's been feeling. Sirius never wants to go through this ever again. Losing James and Lily has been bad enough, he won't lose Harry again too.

"I missed you so much, love," Sirius tells Harry as he pulls back from the boy, looking at him through glassy eyes.

"Wove Pa'foo," Harry nods solemnly. Sirius can feel his heart growing three sizes in his chest and nods back, kissing him on his chubby cheeks.

"Love you too, Harry."

Regulus comes back a few minutes later, carrying a bowl with some mashed vegetables which Sirius feeds Harry. It's such a mundane thing but it makes Sirius so happy every time Harry accepts the spoon from him and smacks his lips in delight after every bite; to have Harry act so casually around him after so many months apart, as if he never left to begin with, makes something in Sirius' heart break in the best way possible.

After they finish lunch as well, Harry gets bored and demands he be let down to play with his toys, though Sirius notes how Harry never leaves his side and always makes sure he can see Sirius clearly every time he strays from the couch.

Regulus and him continue their conversation, which inevitably leads to Sirius' capture and imprisonment.

"I still don't understand why the Ministry claimed you were Voldemort's right hand man, though," Regulus remarks as he sips on his fourth mug of tea.

Sirius sighs and puts down his own as he braces himself for this conversation. "Lily and James wanted me as their Secret Keeper but I convinced them to use Pettigrew instead since I was too obvious of a choice. I figured I could lead the Death Eaters on a merry chase, going after me, while the three of them would be perfectly safe."

He winces as he remembers the conversation, how Lily hadn't been too convinced of this plan but had gone along with it in the end at Sirius' reassurances. He runs a hand through his curtain of black hair and breathes in shakily. If only he hadn't thought himself so clever.

"Anyway, turns out the boy I'd considered one of my best friends for years was a Death Eater and the spy we'd been trying to find for months, and as soon as he had the Secret he went to his master and told him."

He continues the tale of how he found the house in Godric's Hollow blown up, handing Harry over to Hagrid, running after Pettigrew and his capture when the Aurors caught up to him.

"Didn't stop to think how they managed to find me so quickly, those stupid idiots," Sirius mutters angrily. "I was a bloody Auror, and a good one at that, if I hadn't wanted to be found, I wouldn't have been."

"What do you mean?" Regulus speaks for the first time since Sirius started the tale. He's grateful his brother hasn't interrupted.

"I didn't know what I would find when I caught up to the traitor, so I made sure to leave a trail for the Aurors to find. I knew they wouldn't be far behind me, so I was confident I'd have back up in case I walked into a trap or something." He laughs self deprecatingly and averts his eyes from his brother, "I was too cocky. Again. Of course the coward had a plan. Blew up the whole bloody street and killed those Muggles after he yelled for all the street to hear about my betrayal. Cut his own finger too, evidence he was dead."

He lifts his head and chances a glance at his brother, only to find him furrowing his eyebrows, a look of deep thinking on his face.

"But it doesn't make any sense," Regulus says. "Why would the Aurors think he's dead just because they found a finger? I don't know what kind of Blasting Curses they've seen, but you'd have to be Merlin himself to cast one so powerful that no other body part would remain, not even a skeleton or something."

Sirius barks a laugh. At Regulus' irritated look he forces himself to calm down and tries to explain himself.

"You think they thought it over, Reg? They were just happy to have a scapegoat for the Potters' murders and a reason to get rid of another Black, nevermind that I'd risked my neck for 4 years as an Auror and a member of Dumbledore's Order fighting against those lunatics. No offense."

"None taken," Regulus dismisses with a wave of his hand. "I haven't been an active Death Eater for two years. And I certainly agree with your description."

"What do you mean two years? I thought you turned over after his Noselessness kicked the bucket," Sirius exclaims. How can his brother have been on their side for so long without him knowing? He pauses. Hadn't there been rumors of Reggie's death at some point during the war? Sirius hadn't heeded them because he knew he would have received some word from grandfather Arcturus at least if Reg had actually died, and he had had so many things to worry about during that time that he'd forgotten about it.

"When I was 18 Voldemort asked for Kreacher to aid him in hiding an Artefact of his," Regulus starts, telling him with shaking hands about Kreacher, the old nutter, nearly dying but coming back because of Regulus' order to return to him once the task was done, of Regulus figuring out the Artefact was a Horcrux, of going to the cave to retrieve the fucking thing and nearly dying as well.

"I really thought I was done for, but Kreacher was determined not to let me succumb to the Inferi. He dived in the water after me and pulled me out before they could do more than sink their claws in my flesh. Once back on shore I managed to summon some Fiendfyre to drive them back into the lake and Kreacher took me back on the boat and Apparated me to the family Healer. I kept my distance for the next two years because I couldn't go back to serving that madman but I didn't know if I was strong enough to play spy for Dumbledore either."

Sirius can see his brother is trembling very badly and trying to hide it, and his heart breaks for the millionth time that day at the sight. He pulls Regulus close to him, tucks him into his side and rubs his shoulder as he whispers assurances in his ear. He can hear Reggie's breathing slowing down and he's no longer shaking so badly. Sirius sighs in relief as well, and shuts his eyes, trying to fight off the horror as he realizes how close he came to losing his brother for good. It seems like he owes that batty house elf quite a lot.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," Sirius repeats himself, grief in every line of his body. "But I'm glad Kreacher got you out. I don't want to know where I'd be if it weren't for you, where Harry would be. I promise I'll never doubt you or abandon you again."

"Thank you, Siri. I'm so happy you're here," Regulus whispers and Sirius echoes the sentiment, pulling his brother closer. It's good to be surrounded by the people he loves again. He'll do anything to keep this forever.

Regulus stretches his sore muscles and sighs in relief as his back pops. It's 5 pm and he feels wrung out after so many emotion filled discussions in one day. He'll happily never share his feelings for the next year, thank you very much.

A fond smile plays on his lips as he watches Sirius playing with Harry on the couch. His brother is sprawled lazily on it while Harry lays on his stomach and giggles madly at one thing or another. Sirius keeps blowing raspberries against Harry's cheeks, and Harry keeps pulling on his godfather's hair in retaliation. It's good to see the duo interacting, and it fills another missing piece in Regulus' heart.

"I assume you're staying here for the next few days, yes?" he asks casually as he comes back in the living room and looks at the pair with his hands on his hips.

"I wouldn't mind spending the holidays here, if that's alright."

"Of course," Regulus tries not to let it show how much that statement has lifted his spirits. He opens his mouth to say something else but a vibrating noise cuts him off. He furrows his brows in confusion for a second before he realizes it's coming from the two way mirror. He hurries to the coffee table and picks it up.

"Narcissa Malfoy," the mirror changes from reflecting his face to showing Cissa's, blue eyes sparkling and smile wide.

"Reggie dear, how are you?" her voice is warm and it wraps around Regulus like a blanket.

"Is that Narcissa?" Sirius asks as he bolts upright, holding on to Harry so as not to topple the baby over.

Regulus grimaces at Narcissa and mouths a "hold on" as he covers the mirror and turns towards Sirius.

"Yes. I know you cut ties with the entire family and that she married a Death Eater, but please believe me when I say she's the same as she's always been, the same she was when we were kids and hanging out. Lucius even switched sides, and they have a son Harry's age whom your godson adores so please don't make a scene," Regulus pleads.

Sirius seems surprised and laughs. "Oh don't worry, idiot, I wasn't going to. I've missed Cissy and her upturned nose, actually. Besides, she's always been alright, even if her choice in husbands isn't what I'd call the right one. I can put up with the Malfoy prat."

Regulus sighs in relief and smiles at his brother, then uncovers the mirror and goes back to a slightly irritated Narcissa.

"Would you mind explaining what that was about, dear Cousin?"

"I could, but I think I'd better show you," Regulus grins at her before passing the mirror off to Sirius who has his own shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"Cissy! How good to see you, your royal highness," Sirius greets as he balances a sleepy but curious Harry with one arm and the mirror with the other.

"Sirius?" Narcissa asks in disbelief. "Circe I heard you'd been cleared but..."

It's the first time Regulus has ever seen Narcissa at a loss for words, and by the cheeky smile Sirius is wearing he knows his brother is feeling very proud of himself for having caused it.

Regulus shakes his head and takes a seat next to Sirius close enough for his cousin to see the both of them clearly, and takes over the conversation while she recovers.

He stays silent as Sirius and Cissa catch up with each other afterwards, and it makes him happy to see the both of them falling back into the familiar teasing rhythm he'd been accustomed to in their childhood. All that is missing from this picture is Andromeda, he thinks with a pang in his heart. Well, if everything goes well, maybe they'll see her again soon. He just hopes nothing will ruin this new peace he is finding now.

It's two days before Christmas when Regulus is sure that his reconciliation with Sirius will go down the drain, that his brother will snatch Harry away from him and leave, never to be seen again.

The day starts normally enough. He wakes up, feeds and changes Harry while Sirius continues to snore away in the other bedroom, Tilly busying herself with breakfast. He reads the newspaper as he drinks his coffee, making sure to keep an eye on Harry who is trying to find who would win a fight between a wooden table and a metal spoon as he keeps whacking said table with the aforementioned spoon - the answer is yet undecided as it seems to be a tie, though it doesn't deter the boy at all. If anything, Harry just keeps hitting the table harder.

"Harry, stop that," Regulus finally says, as the noise stars getting to him and it's best to curb such behavior early lest he gets it in his head that he can act however he likes without repercussions. "You have toys if you want to play. Either use the spoon to eat the porridge you refused to let me feed to you, or I'll get you down from the table and into your playpen."

Harry stops his whacking to look at him as he reprimands the boy. Regulus stares back. Harry lifts the spoon in the air. Regulus narrows his eyes.

Whack.

Harry hits the table again, as hard as he can, while staring right into Regulus' eyes, as if daring him to do something about it.

Regulus doesn't know what has come over Harry, as he's behaved so well these past few months. He didn't even thrown a temper tantrum when he'd been hurting as his teeth emerged.

"Harry, you will desist this instant or you can say goodbye to your toys for the next week," Regulus warns. He doesn't truly know how much Harry understands at this age, but he figures he understands enough because he immediately dropa the spoon with a clank and his lower lip starts wobbling.

"None of that, now. Don't think you can start crying and I'll just let it slide. Now come on, to the playpen with you."

He rises from the table and picks Harry up, intent on putting him in the playpen before starting in on his breakfast. All of that is put on hold as Harry refuses to be put down, clinging to Regulus' clothes with a fierceness and strength he never thought the boy capable of.

"Let go, Harry," Regulus tries to sound stern but his voice comes out too soft to be convincing.

Harry starts crying for good now, fisting his robes and shaking his head as great hiccups shake his tiny body.

"I'm sowwy, Daddy," Harry wails, still clinging to him like a lifeline. "Pwease no weave me."

Regulus' heart breaks and he tries to shush Harry as best he can. He doesn't really understand what Harry's behavior is all about, but he has an inkling. He's obviously gotten very attached to him, otherwise Harry wouldn't be calling him that word, but Sirius' sudden reappearance in his life probably made the boy fear he'd be taken away from Regulus. Maybe he's been testing him, and now thinks that his bad behavior will lead to abandonment. Which is an expected thought process for a baby who's lived with those disgusting Muggles for an entire month; if he haan't forgotten Sirius after so long apart, Regulus doubts he's forgotten his treatment either.

But before he can contemplate this any longer while trying to calm the boy in his arms down, he spots Sirius standing in the doorway, completely frozen in place as he stares at them. For a few seconds Regulus is confused at his brother's reaction and has just opened his mouth to ask what his deal is, but then his brain catches up and he realizes Sirius has most likely been woken up by the ruckus and heard what Harry said.

Regulus is already imagining what his funeral will look like and whether they'll be able to give him an open casket or if his body will be too mangled after Sirius is done with him.

He's distracted, however, from his morbid thoughts, when Harry sniffles and pulls back from his neck to stare at him with big, glassy eyes. Regulus remembers he has a toddler to calm down first, a likely murderous brother to survive second.

"It's okay, Harry, love. I'm not going to leave you." He really hopes Sirius won't make him break his promise. "I forgive you if you promise to be a good boy from now on, okay?"

Harry nods jerkily, burying his face back in his neck again before going limp in his arms. Now that the toddler has been successfully calmed down, Regulus gently places him on the couch, where he curls up around his dragon plushie with a small pout and furrowed brows - a sign he's feeling guilty and still upset, probably at his own behavior.

Movement in his periphery breaks Regulus' eyes away from Harry and he watches Sirius slowly approaching the table, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Regulus moves back to his own sear warily, preparing for the onslaught any time now.

The yelling never comes.

"So, he calls you daddy?" Sirius asks while buttering his toast. He says it so nonchalantly, Regulus almost would believe him unaffected if it weren't for the clenched jaw and the stiffness of his movements. Although still on extremely thin ice, he allows himself a small sigh of relief that he isn't about to be eviscerated by his brother - at least not now.

"I uhm," Regulus clears his suddenly dry throat, "I tried to explain I'm not his dad but he refuses to call me anything else. I taught him how to say my name, or at least something close to it, but he doesn't want to use it."

"Hm," Sirius says non-committally as he puts down the butter knife with a little more force than necessary and bites into his toast as if it has personally offended him.

Regulus gulps down a bit of his coffee, trying not to choke on it. He doesn't understand why he's so nervous about this. Well, that's a lie - he does know. It's because he cares about Harry a lot and wants to keep raising him, but he also cares about his brother and doesn't want to lose both of them so soon because of such a silly thing. And yes, maybe it isn't that silly after all, but it can hardly be his fault that the child refuses his countless attempts at getting him to call him something else! He allowed it that first time, thinking he'd grow out of it or realize Regulus isn't James; he even showed Harry a picture of James to point out the differences. The petulant child had simply sniffed and called him daddy again.

"If you exploit him in any way, or use the love that boy has for you for your own gain at any point in the future, I'll kill you with my bare hands," Sirius tells him seriously. "I know you're not the person I'd convinced myself you were when we were children, so I'm sure it's pointless to warn you. But just to be clear."

Regulus stares dumbly back, quite aware he's gaping but unable to do anything about it. That's it? He's just threatening him? Where's the yelling, the lunging at his throat, the cursing him six ways to Sunday? Why is Sirius still sitting at the table, methodically eating his toast while staring him in the eye, instead of halfway to the nearest Portkey center with Harry in tow?

Seeing his flabbergasted expression, his brother cracks a smile then starts chuckling which devolves into a laughing fit so bad he's shaking the table.

"Oh my God," Sirius gasps after each word, trying to control his breathing and stop laughing. "Your face! I'm not going to strangle you, Reg, lighten up. Sheesh."

He wipes his eyes and straightens up, obviously trying not to start laughing again.

"If I had a knut for every time that kid called me daddy, I'd fill a vault at Gringotts. The little bastard even did it in front of James a few times," Sirius laughs and Regulus finally deflates, slumping back in his seat. "His first word was my name, did you know that? He probably started calling you that because we look so alike. Don't get me wrong, it's obvious that kid loves you to pieces, but in the beginning I'm willing to bet my entire inheritance that he saw me in you."

Regulus laughs as well now that he doen't feel like he'll be murdered at a moment's notice.

"Thank you," Regulus breathes, voice full of sincerity. "I don't want to replace James in his life, but I can't deny that I see him as something like a son," he admits.

"That's fine, Reggie," Sirius' eyes and voice soften and Regulus averts his gaze. "It's hard not to fall in love with that menace. And hey, I've always preferred being the fun godfather who spoils him rotten and lets him eat too many sweets. You can be the strict and boring father figure who sets a bedtime and grounds him."

Regulus chuckles and turns his gaze back on his brother, sure his gratitude is shining in his eyes.

"Merlin knows he'll need a responsible adult in his life with you as a godfather," Regulus retorts, finally starting his breakfast as well.

"I'm perfectly capable of being responsible, thank you very much," Sirius sniffs, offended. "I just choose not to be. Where's the fun in that?"

"Whatever you say, Sirius," Regulus smiles.

The weak December sun is shining outside, trying desperately to bring some warmth to the frozen, snow covered ground in spite of the unforgiving chill in the air. There are no people outside for a change, no kids playing with a ball out on the street, no hurried adults rushing to reach their destination, no annoyed neigbours yelling at the kids to stop their ruckus and go play somewhere else.

Sirius watches the street below absently, gaze unfocused as his mind is elsewhere. He can hear Tilly puttering around in the kitchen and Harry babbling along to whatever cartoon is showing on TV. Regulus is on the couch reading, the only sound coming from him being the occasional flip of the pages.

He lets the sounds of the apartment's occupants wash over him as he continues gazing out into the snow.

It's peaceful here, he can't deny that. He hasn't visited Romania in years, not since Uncle Alphard died and he had no reason to travel here, but he has fond memories of spending a week or two with his uncle in this very apartment, or strolling through both Muggle and Wizarding Bucharest, meeting people, sightseeing, fooling around without the accusatory and harsh gaze of his parents on him.

Sirius is happy to be back, and with Harry and Regulus no less. He never would have thought he'd be with these two on Christmas Eve of '81; he hadn't given much thought to holidays while in Azkaban, but if he had, he'd have probably expected he'd spend all of them surrounded by Dementors and crazy inmates each trapped in their own hell.

He doesn't think he'll ever be able to make it up to Regulus for getting him out, however indirectly, especially after their disaster of a childhood and early adulthood.

Sirius shifts his position, turning his back on the window and watching his brother and godson with fond eyes. They are his family, all he has left in the world. He can't bear the thought of leaving them - either of them - after just getting them back.

He doesn't care if Dumbledore thinks Regulus is an unfit guardian, he doesn't care for whatever reasoning the man had for placing Harry with Petunia of all people, and he doesn't care what master plans within master plans the Headmaster has involving his godson. As far as Sirius is concerned, Regulus has proved himself in his eyes. He's managed to keep the both of them hidden, leaving no clues as to his involvement in Harry's kidnapping, from the moment he took Harry away. If it hadn't been for Sirius' knowledge of Alphard's will, as well as accurately guessing what Regulus would do, no one would have found them until Regulus wanted to be found.

As for being a good parent, Sirius really has nothing bad to say about his brother's parenting. He's loving and affectionate without spoiling Harry or being too harsh in his punishments. It's obvious the two adore each other, and as much as it pains Sirius to see someone else in James' place as Harry's dad, it brings him joy that Harry can still know the love and presence of a father even with James gone.

Sirius, more than most people, knows that being a parent is more than just birthing a child. And there is nothing that says Harry can't have two fathers: the one that had a hand in conceiving him, who raised him until he was 1, who died protecting him and to give him a chance at life; and the one who saved him from a neglectful and unloving household and existence, who raised him from age 1 onward, who loved him and took care of him just the same.

Some might expect Sirius to be more opposed to Harry calling Regulus "Daddy". Some might think he'd blow a fuse, snatch Harry up and forbid Regulus from ever being in his godson's presence. That is not the case. Not only because he loves and respects his brother more than that, but also because he can admit to himself that he wouldn't be a good father figure for Harry.

Of course, he would have done his damn best to be one if the situation called for it, but he wouldn't have been as good as Regulus is. He's been too reckless before and went running off after a traitor instead of seeing to Harry on the night of his parents' murders. What does that say about his sense of responsibility? And even now, after seeing his errors and vowing to work on his flaws, he knows that he's more suited to being a friend to Harry, the fun uncle/godfather who gives him tips on how to approach his crush, who gives him too many sweets behind Regulus' back, who lets him get away with things as long as it isn't something too big or bad, who teaches him how to cause mischief and make Regulus age prematurely.

Sirius knows who he is. He knows what he can and can't do. And being a responsible parent isn't one of the things he is capable of, not yet at least. He loves Harry more than life itself, but he's content with leaving the parenting to Regulus.

And for all his younger age (even if not by much), his brother is remarkably good at being a parent, not something Sirius would have pegged him as, ever. While their shared awful childhood made Sirius a rebel, irresponsible and reckless more often than not, with barely any respect for authority and way too much respect for causing trouble, Regulus went in the opposite direction: craving fair rules, stability, order and respect. The both of them vowed to be the opposite of their parents if they ever had children of their own, but the ways they go about it are drastically different.

Sirius doesn't mind it. If anything, he's relieved that Harry will be raised exactly how Lily and James would have done it themselves, especially Lily. That thought is comforting.

"Have I grown a second head and I haven't noticed?" Regulus' dry and amused voice snaps Sirius out of his musings. He realizes he'd been staring at his brother for the past 5 minutes, lost in his head.

"Nah, just thinking how such an ugly brat could be related so closely to little handsome me," Sirius quips, pushing himself away from the window to move over to Harry, plopping himself down behind his godson on the floor.

"You might want to get your eyes checked in that case," Regulus sniffs disdainfully for a second before his mask cracks and he chuckles.

Sirius laughs along as well, pulling Harry closer to rest against his front in between his legs, and he starts watching Harry's cartoons absently as he lets his thoughts drift away and the pleasant atmosphere of Christmas Eve with his family wash over him.

Christmas is a quiet affair, which suits both Regulus and Sirius in equal measure.

They exchange gifts in the morning before breakfast, and Regulus gets to see the unbridled joy on Harry's face as he tears through the wrapping paper with glee (after numerous assurances on his part that all of them are his and yes he can open them all) and finds all manner of toys, both magical and Muggle, a couple of books with pictures to help him learn his shapes and colours, as well as a toy broomstick courtesy of Sirius. The little boy exclaims in happiness at the sight and demands to be put on it at once, and Sirius' expression of joy mixed in with a tinge of sorrow tells Regulus all he needs to know. He doesn't ask what that's about.

They have breakfast together and chat about this and that, occasionally pausing their conversation to help Harry eat or clean him up, and then they move to the living room, each with a cup of hot chocolate as they watch some Romanian Christmas movies on the grainy TV.

The variety isn't much, given the fact that Muggle Romania is under the communist regime, and so they seize the opportunity to watch it, even if Harry doesn't seem to understand all that much. Regulus caught him mumbling some odd Romanian words every now and again while he was playing with his blocks and he knows the boy will be bilingual if they spend a few years here.

He hasn't decided on what to do about that yet. Sirius and him haven't talked about it, preferring to take one day at a time for now and just focus on having each other in their lives again. A part of Regulus misses Britain dearly, especially Narcissa and Andromeda, but the other fears the consequences of returning any time soon too much.

He hasn't heard from Dumbledore yet and so can't know if the old man is prepared to let things lie and allow Harry to be raised by him or not. And even if that happens, the risk of Death Eaters ambushing them on an outing in public or somehow tracking them down in their home makes Regulus anxious. He feels inclined to stay here a few more years, if he's being honest, at least until all the remaining Death Eaters that haven't bribed their way out of Azkaban are caught and the ones that have evaded justice will hopefully fear prison too much to attack Regulus or Harry himself in retaliation for the former's betrayal and the latter's defeat of the Dark Lord.

Besides, Regulus is of the opinion that Harry could do with some years away from the adoring masses in Wizarding Britain, where he can enjoy being a normal boy and going outside in public without being hounded by reporters and misguided people who wouldn't hesitate to come up to him and thank him or, Merlin forbid, shake his hand in gratitude for ending the war.

The last thing Harry needs is to be treated like a celebrity or some kind of God for something that wasn't even his doing, and for essentially failing to die alongside his parents. Regulus suspects that he'll have to exercise restraint once they come back to Britain lest he start hexing the general public for hounding his son.

His son.

Well, he isn't as surprised by that as he might have been a few weeks or a month ago. He undoubtedly loves Harry like his own, and though he doesn't know what having a child feels like, he's positive this is it. He'd do anything for the bright eyed boy slumbering in his lap at the moment.

It isn't like he'll ever have children of his own anyway. Not only does he not feel the need to, now that he has Harry, but it's quite frankly biologically impossible for him to have one. He's known he's gay since around 4th year, when instead of ogling every girl with a pair of noticeable breasts, his breath caught in his throat as he took notice of sweaty chests and flexing muscles in the quidditch changing room.

Of course, he never told anyone about that, fearing what his parents would do if they discovered their precious replacement for an Heir felt quite disinclined to marry a witch and pop out kids to further the Black line. Remembering that time he caught Sirius and Lupin looking disheveled and giggling like school girls as they emerged from a broom closet in his 5th year, Regulus wrily thinks that the Black line is bound to take some hits because of them both.

Ah well, he can't be bothered to care. The line can shrivel up and die for all he cares. Maybe, if Sirius agrees, he will Blood Adopt Harry later and make him the Heir. The thought of a Half-blood one day being the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is one Regulus quite enjoys. His parents will be rolling in their graves no doubt.

He brings himself back to reality when the clock chimes, signaling the arrival of noon. He shifts Harry carefully from his lap, laying him down gently on the sofa as he gets up to make some tea in the kitchen. He barely makes it inside when there is a knock on the door.

He startles and turns back to the living room.

"Are you expecting guests?" Regulus asks, puzzled. He can't think of anyone who would be visiting. No one knows his location, and he didn't talk to any of the neighbors the few times he went out, so the options are quite non existent.

Sirius shrugs, aiming for a confused and nonchalant expression but failing miserably. Regulus narrows his eyes.

"What did you do?"

Before Sirius can answer, another knock sounds from the door. With a resigned sigh, Regulus straightens up and goes to the door, wand in hand as he warily unlocks it (cursing the lack of a peephole) and opens it slowly.

He stops dead at the sight that greets him, wand slipping from his fingers in his shock and clattering on the floor uselessly.

"Well hello to you too, Cousin. Mind letting us in or are we to celebrate Yule from the doorway?" Narcissa arches an elegant eyebrow, amusement shining brightly in her blue eyes.

"Cissa?" he chokes on his words, swallowing dryly as he takes in the sight of his Cousin dressed in impeccable robes of the best quality, her son secure in her arms. He tears his eyes away from her for a second to see Lucius standing behind her, dressed just as neatly as her, his face impassive.

Overwhelmed, Regulus takes a step back to allow them entrance.

"Thank you," she sniffs as she steps over the threshold, her husband following her. She doesn't even stop to take in her surroundings, immediately heading to the living room.

Dumbfounded, Regulus closes and locks the door behind them, picks up his wand with shaky fingers and follows them into the room.

"Cissy! I thought you weren't coming after all," Sirius exclaims.

"Draco was a bit fussy this morning so we were delayed. I'm wounded you'd think I'd back down after formally accepting an invitation, Cousin."

"You invited them?" Regulus asks, incredulous.

Sirius grins at him, unrepentant. "Of course I did. I could see your kicked puppy expression from a mile away whenever you talked about Cissy and Andy, and while Andy had to decline because Nymphadora apparently came down with Wizard's Flu, Cissy was more than happy to visit."

Regulus blinks back the tears in his eyes and sends his brother a grateful smile.

"I was just about to make tea, would you like a cup?" he asks his guests, finally breaking the shock from his system and smiling brightly at Lucius and Narcissa.

"Yes, please," Narcissa replies. "Give me a moment to put Draco down and I'll join you."

Regulus nods and makes his way to the kitchen to put the kettle on, Narcissa joining him a few moments later.

"It's good to see you, Reggie," she smiles softly at him, carding her fingers through his hair with a tender expression. Regulus smiles back and pulls her into a hug, breathing in the scent of her jasmine shampoo and feeling most of his broken pieces slotting in together. He feels almost whole again.

"I missed you so much, Cissa," he whispers, voice thick with emotion that he tries so hard to push down. It doesn't matter that he's felt so alone and lost the past few months, that he's doubted his every move and decision because he had no one by his side. None of it matters now, because he has his brother and his favorite cousin with him, and maybe soon he'll get to see Andy as well.

"Oh love, it's fine. I understand," Narcissa whispers back, carding her fingers through his hair as she used to when he was younger. "I know how hard this has been on you, but you're never alone, you hear me? There is nothing in this world I will not do for you, Reggie. You're safe now, you can let go."

That's all he needs to break down in his Cousin's arms. He cries on her shoulder and shakes as he forces his sobs down, not wanting the others to hear and investigate. He allows himself a few moments, then slowly pulls away from her, wiping his eyes and smiling shakily at her.

"Thank you," his gratitude is for more than simply letting him cry in her arms and Narcissa understands, as she always has, and simply smiles back and pets his cheek with a soft hand.

"Let's make that tea and go to the living room before Sirius and Lucius murder each other."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," he grimaces and starts on the tea with Narcissa by his side.

She leans back against the chair, sipping her tea with a contented smile as she observes the three men and two boys in front of her. Sirius is bickering with Lucius good naturedly about Circe knows what, with Regulus suppressing smiles or frowns when appropriate as he listens to them. Harry and Draco are quietly playing in the playpen, her keen eye noting the subtle clues as to the fact that they are likely half an hour away from dropping dead on the floor in exhaustion.

Narcissa smiles and leaves them to it for now, she'll take them for their nap later.

Her heart feels so full she fears it will burst, watching all these important people in her life getting along in a room together. To say Narcissa was surprised by Sirius' request would be an understatement. When she heard the mirror vibrating she hadn't expected to answer the call only to be faced with her estranged cousin. They had barely talked to each other at Hogwarts because Sirius thought himself above associating with Slytherins, sentiment which only got worse once her engagement to Lucius became official upon her graduation.

While they hadn't talked much during the school year, they had always been forced to socialize at Family gatherings as well as all manner of social functions both their parents dragged them to, so they'd still seen each other and made small talk whether they wanted to or not.

All of that changed the summer after Sirius' fifth year when he ran away from Grimmauld Place. With Narcissa out of Hogwarts and married, and Sirius no longer under his parents' thumb, there had been no more opportunities for them to associate with one another, and certainly they hadn't attempted to get in touch.

It hurt her as a teenager to be swept aside like yesterday's trash the minute Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor. No matter his house, she would have never scorned him for it; he was her cousin. But she learned to live with it and accepted it as a fact of her strange life, just one thing in the long list of unfortunate realities: Sirius wanted nothing to do with her, Andromeda ran away with a Muggleborn and chose disownment over an arranged marriage, Regulus was a Death Eater with no stomach for torturing or killing, and she was married to another Death Eater who would rather be a Healer at St. Mungo's than going on raids torturing hapless Muggles.

So to see Sirius' face smiling back at her uncertainly on the other side of the mirror she'd given Regulus was quite the shock.

Of course, she got over it quickly, as is expected of a Lady of her station, but she couldn't completely cover up her own shy smile at seeing her cousin.

They talked a bit, each apologizing for never having the courage to contact the other when they'd needed each other the most, Sirius for distancing himself from his entire family in an effort not to get hurt by their rejection, and Narcissa for allowing him to withdraw himself from her, for not fighting harder to keep her cousin close.

Maybe if she had, he wouldn't have pushed Regulus away as well, thus driving him further into that monster's arms. It's one of the few regrets she has in life.

But she can't beat herself up over could have beens and should have beens forever, so she eagerly accepted the invitation to celebrate Yule at their apartment in Romania.

And now here she is, in a room full of people she never thought or hoped to see getting along, and she can't be happier. The only thing that's dampening her happiness is her sister's absence, but she can forgive Andromeda since her child's health is more important than this. They have plenty of time to get together at a later date.

"What are you thinking about?" Sirius whispers next to her, making Narcissa jump slightly in her seat. She looks around and realizes Regulus has carted the boys off to bed and is now conversing with Lucius on the couch. Sirius moved closer to her without her even realizing it.

"About how happy I am to be here," she murmurs sincerely. Sirius' face softens and a rare glint of understanding shines in his eyes.

"I've been pinching myself regularly since I arrived here," he confesses. "Sometimes I'm in the middle of a friendly argument with Reg, or playing with Harry, and I feel like I'm dreaming because how can all this be real, you know? All those months spent in that hell, reliving my worst memories on repeat, and suddenly I'm as far away as possible from that place and instead I get to have my brother and godson back. And now my cousin, as well," he adds with a half smile, nudging her shoulder with his playfully.

She smiles in return and leans back to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you."

Those two words carry too much meaning behind them for her to properly explain everything she's thanking him for. Even she doesn't know it all. But he understands, and simply wraps his arm around her, pulling her closer to him.

"Always, Cissy," he murmurs into her hair where he presses a soft kiss. Narcissa exhales, feeling a huge weight being lifted off her chest as she does so.

None of their lives have been what they'd dreamt of as little children huddled together under piles of blankets and pillows in Sirius' room; they've all faced hardships and unfairness at every turn, each in their own ways. But they've somehow landed on their feet despite it all and are now all back together under one roof, celebrating Yule with none of the fanfare of the House of Black but all of the love the Black Cousins are known for when it comes to each other.

So maybe it hasn't been all for nought. And maybe their lives are only going to get better from there on out. Narcissa has a feeling this slice of happiness is only the beginning, and it's all thanks to a certain green eyed boy peacefully sleeping in his crib next to her son.

Dumbledore is getting restless. New Year's Eve is upon them and he hasn't heard from Sirius yet. No letter, no Patronus, no Floo call.

He doesn't know what to think. He thought he'd convinced Sirius that leaving Harry with his brother isn't such a good idea, but maybe he's wrong. The question is, what else has he been wrong about?

Sirius' release is proof enough that at least one of the things Regulus alluded to in his letter are true. Can it be that he made another grave mistake in trusting Petunia to raise her sister's son? And if that is so, can he be wrong in thinking Regulus won't make a fitting guardian?

Dumbledore is ashamed to admit he doesn't remember much of the boy from his 7 years at Hogwarts. All of his experiences with the youngest Black came towards the end of the war, when the boy approached him about the Horcruxes. He seemed more level headed, more disciplined than Sirius, and certainly a good enough person to turn away from Tom and betray him in such a decisive manner; there is no doubt in Dumbledore's mind that there is no turning back for young Regulus now.

But can he be trusted to raise a baby? Love and affection aside, what kind of education and life lessons will he instill in Harry? And how will he fare, being a parent at 20 years old to a baby that is not his?

Admittedly, Lily and James weren't been much older when Harry was born, Dumbledore thinks with chagrin. What made them more fitting to be parents than Regulus, when the only difference is that the Potters planned for their baby to be born while Regulus was just in the right place at the right time?

Mind more or less made up, Dumbledore nods to himself and gets up from the armchair in his personal quarters. He dusts off his fuchsia robes and transfigures them in something less conspicuous with a swish of his Elder Wand, then strides out of the rooms towards his office.

Fawkes unfurls from his perch and shoots him a curious look but goes back to dozing when it becomes clear that the Headmaster has other business. Dumbledore grasps a pinch of Floo powder from the small container he keeps on him at all times then throws it in the fireplace, calling for Arabella Figg's house once the Floo flares to life.

He steps into the fireplace and a few seconds of rather confusing twirling later he reappears in Arabella's living room.

"Albus! What brings you here on such a short notice?"

"Ah, forgive me, dear Arabella," Dumbledore smiles apologetically at her over his half moon glasses, "I seem to have some unfinished discussion with Petunia I fear I have delayed for too long. It simply cannot wait any longer."

"Of course, of course," she frets, "don't let me keep you then. Shall I prepare some tea for when you return?"

Dumbledore shakes his head. "Sadly Hogwarts awaits me and I don't have time to spare. Maybe some other time."

"No worries. Do give Petunia my best."

"Certainly," he replies with a small smile. Arabella doesn't seem to notice that it's slightly strained, nor the tightened facial muscles on the old wizard's face, for she simply smiles back and shows him to the door.

Once she shuts it behind him, Dumbledore drops the smile and starts walking briskly toward Number Four. A car is parked in the driveway, so he's confident the residents of the house are currently at home, and so wastes no time in knocking decisively three times before stepping back and waiting.

A moment later the door is pulled open and the venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts is faced for the first time with the worst sort of Muggle there has ever been: the beefy, warlus-like Vernon Dursley.

"Whatever you're selling, we're not buying!" the man barks. His face has gone slightly red with indignation and his mustache keeps twitching, no doubt his lips pulled into a snarl behind the thick bush of hair.

Dumbledore narrows his eyes imperceptibly at the attitude but no other sign of his displeasure can be spotted. Instead, he smiles benignly at the man before him and links his hands together in front of him.

"Good morning, Mr. Dursley. I apologize for the interruption but I have some things to discuss with your wife, Petunia. If you would be so kind as to allow me entrance," he leaves the sentence hanging in the air there, the meaning clear without him having to finish it.

If Dumbledore thought his polite tone would put the man at ease, he was sorely mistaken. If anything, Vernon Dursley seems to puff up even more in displeasure, his face gaining a purple quality to it that looks entirely too unhealthy.

"Now listen here," he draws himself up, "I don't know who you think you are coming here on New Year's Eve and asking for my wife, but I won't stand for it!"

Dumbledore loses his smile instantly. It seems as though the temperature has dropped by 10 degrees at least and suddenly the wizened man with the silly robes and ridiculously long hair and beard doesn't seem so harmless anymore.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore and your wife and I have some unfinished business regarding her nephew. You will step aside and allow me entrance or I will remove you myself."

His tone brooks no argument and thankfully Mr. Dursley finally seems to comprehend the situation he's found himself in. He steps back fearfully at the threat while Dumbledore slips past him into the house. He doesn't wait for the man to follow or show him around, but simply walks into the living room where he finds Petunia fretting over some last minute arrangements for their New Year's Party no doubt.

"Good morning, Petunia. Apologies for taking you away from your duties but I have some questions for you."

The way she stiffens at the sight of him and the clear fear and apprehension in her eyes are all he needs to know he won't enjoy what he is about to learn from her.

Dumbledore storms into his office in a flurry of robes, cursing up a storm. Fawkes startles so bad he falls off his perch. 

The old man notices none of that as he fumbles with his outer robes, struggling to get them off in his anger then flinging them over a piece of furniture at random.

He hasn't been this angry in years. Not even during the recently ended war has he lost his temper quite so thoroughly.

How could he have been so blind? Had he really been so preoccupied with getting Harry away from the Wizarding World's eye, and so trusting of blood relations, and that he had completely missed the utter contempt and maliciousness in Petunia Dursley?

To treat an innocent baby with so much hatred and fear... it's unthinkable. But then he thinks of his poor, beloved Ariana, and how much she suffered at the hands of Muggles. He thinks of his own beliefs on their kind in his youth, of a red headed young man who had wholeheartedly agreed with Gellert Grindelwald at one point, before it costed his sister's very life.

The anger drains out of him like water from a pricked balloon, and he seems to collapse in on himself. Dumbledore pulls a chair close to him and sits down heavily, running a hand over his face in exhaustion.

Yet another thing to add on the embarrassingly long list of errors he's made in his long life. At least he has Regulus to thank, now, as it could have easily been a much graver mistake had he left poor Harry for years to live in that wretched house.

He still isn't convinced Regulus is a suiting choice for Harry's guardian, despite him taking the boy away at the first sign of mistreatment. If he's learned one thing from this ordeal, it's to trust a bit less and see things for himself before making a decision. He won't make the same mistake twice.

With that in mind, Dumbledore grabs a piece of parchment and a quill and starts writing another letter to Regulus Black. Hopefully this one will be better received.

Regulus settles at the table with a yawn on the morning of New Year's Eve. He picks up an empty mug and pours himself some coffee, adding in three spoons of sugar and two fingers of milk to the disgust of both Sirius and Narcissa. Still too asleep to form words, he just scowls at them and sticks his tongue out.

He hears Lucius' muffled snort but ignores it as he focuses on his coffee.

"Not a morning person?" the blonde asks with a smirk.

"It takes him a while to wake up," Narcissa answers in his stead as he continues to glower at everything and everyone. "Give him another half an hour and he'll be back to normal," she laughs.

"You stay up till 3 am to soothe a baby and then wake up at the ass crack of dawn again because said baby is hungry and see how you like it," Regulus mumbles under his breath before he takes a slow drink from his mug, feeling it settle in his stomach pleasantly.

"Just because your words resemble grunts doesn't mean I can't hear you, brat. I know perfectly well what it's like, seeing as I have my own child of the same age. It's simply a part of parenting," Narcissa sniffs with mock offense.

Regulus glares at her extra hard for good measure then redirects his attention to the paper lying on the table.

He ignores the three adults at the table in favor of skimming the articles, and they continue their conversation while ignoring his less than pleasant company at the moment. Nothing catches his eye in particular, just regular gossip columns and news about the Romanian Wizarding Government and recent laws that have been either proposed or passed.

He's just about to turn to the back where a crossword puzzle awaits him when Dumbledore's phoenix swoops in and dumps a letter next to his coffee.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" he exclaims.

The rest of the table's occupants startle both at the bird's appearance and at his language.

"Regulus!" Narcissa scolds, looking scandalized.

"I apologize, I forgot myself. It's just... this is from Dumbledore and I cannot believe he'd send me a letter on New Year's Eve of all days! Has he no sense of propriety?"

"He's always been a bit barmy, mate, you know that," Sirius quips. "Better open it and get it over with."

"Yes, thank you, Sirius," Regulus bites out with a scowl, "it isn't like I was going to do just that."

Ignoring Sirius' impish grin and Narcissa's disapproving frown, Regulus picks up the letter and tears open the seal carelessly.

Dear Regulus,

I hope this letter finds you well, my boy. I apologize for contacting you today of all days but I felt I must tell you these things with haste. Therefore, I beg you to forgive an old man.

Before I begin, I hope Sirius is doing well now that he is away from Azkaban and I ask that you send him my best wishes and a Happy New Year. I hope to see him soon in the next year but we shall see, I suppose.

Now that that's out of the way, I must apologize for jumping to conclusions and almost sweeping aside your words. I visited the Dursley residence again this morning and the information I found was terrible indeed. There are no words to express how much I regret almost condemning Harry to, at the very least, 10 years of such treatment while under his aunt's care.

To that end, I thank you for bringing the matter to my attention and I apologize again.

As much as I agree that allowing Harry to live there would have been a grave mistake, I am not, however, convinced you are the next best alternative.

Forgive me if I come across as condescending, but you are so young, barely out of your teenage years. Pardon me for not having absolute faith in your abilities to raise a child properly, and one as important as Harry no less.

I do not want to repeat the same mistake I made with the Dursleys, therefore I wish to visit your place of residence to see for myself how young Harry is faring and if everything is as it should. I am sure you would agree with the sentiment.

I await your response with a convenient date and time for my visit, as well as the location of your whereabouts. 

Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Regulus throws the letter back on the table with a disgusted sneer. The nerve of this man!

"Regulus, calm yourself," Narcissa intervenes before he can work himself up further. She moves over next to him and lays her hands on top of his, her gentle touch both soothing and grounding. "Take a deep breath, hold it for a few seconds, then exhale. Repeat after me."

Slowly, he follows her lead and soon calms himself down. The anger and indignation drain out of him steadily, leaving him less tense as he stares into his cousin's blue eyes.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," she smiles. "Now, what's this about?" she mutters as she picks the letter from Sirius' fingers, who yelps indignantly.

"Oy, I was reading that!"

"Yes, and now you're not," she replies drily. Her eyes sweep over the parchment quickly, face morphing into a sneer here and there until she's done. As she lays the letter back on the table (where Sirius promptly snatches it again with a childish scowl), she does something she would tan his hide for if he'd done it instead: she rolls her eyes.

"Pish-tosh, he has no right to do or decide anything. If he dares to bring the Aurors down on you for kidnapping Harry, you only have to show them memories from the boy's so called relatives and the entire thing will break over Dumbledore's head instead."

"She's right," Sirius adds seeing as he's finally managed to finish the letter as well. "I think he means well, but in the end he has no say whatsoever. Legally, I'm the next in line for guardianship after the Longbottoms, and seeing as I'm unfit to care for a child just yet after my time in Azkaban, while you're perfectly sound of mind, I can just declare you a fit guardian in James and Lily's stead and hand you over temporary guardianship rights at the very least."

All three of them turn to look at Sirius with astonishment.

He colors red and glares at them. "What? I did my homework before coming here because I wanted to be prepared for anything. I can be responsible when I want to, you know."

"I know," Regulus shakes his head to dispel the gobsmacked look on his face, "I just forget sometimes, with how often you act like a reckless idiot with no sense of self preservation or even a shred of common sense."

"Har-har, laugh it up."

"Well, I think you should write your response while I go wake the boys up and these two help Tilly lay down the table for breakfast," Narcissa says as she stands up from the table. Regulus nods and summons a piece of parchment and a quill, starting to pen his letter.

Dumbledore,

I appreciate your apologies, though I find them hollow and without meaning. Nor do I need them, if I'm being honest, as I knew these things to be true. I didn't tell you any of that to do you any favors, more as a way to point out how far you are from being omniscient and without fault.

I will not bother with pleasantries. You have no right to demand a visit here, nor can you do anything to force my hand. Your role as the self appointed leader of the Light during the War aside, you are simply a Headmaster with far too many useless titles and too long of a name. You had no legal rights to place Harry with the Muggles in the first place, and you certainly have no rights to approve or disapprove of my role now.

The only one with that power is Sirius, and he seems to think I'm doing just fine.

As for my age, I think I am not mistaken when I say that Harry's parents were no older than I currently am when they conceived him. I fail to see what made them suitable parents while it makes me unfit, aside from them being his biological parents.

I want only what's best for Harry, as I have come to love him as my own. How I raise him, what values I instill in him and what beliefs he grows up with is no one's business but Sirius' and my own.

I do not enjoy making threats but you should be warned that I have no compuctions about keeping Harry away from the British Wizarding World permanently. There are, after all, many other choices for schooling aside from Hogwarts.

Keep this up and Harry will never see British soil while I am alive. Sirius and I are the only ones who decide what is best for Harry. It would do you good to remember your place, Headmaster.

Regulus Arcturus Black, Heir Presumptive to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

He rolls the parchment up without bothering with a seal, then hands it over to Fakwes, who takes it in his beak with what seems like a nod before disappearing again.

"Let's eat now," Narcissa calls out from the doorway. She levitates two giggling babies behind her as she makes her way into the kitchen, then settles them gently in their chairs before taking her seat back.

"Let's," he agrees with a smile. Harry claps in delight in the chair next to him.

The New Year comes and with it the moment of Narcissa's departure with her family. Regulus would have offered to house them longer but they have their own business to attend to, social events for Narcissa to host and Wizengamot Sessions for Lucius to attend, and so he sees the three Malfoys off with a bittersweet smile and a tight feeling in his chest.

Sirius gives him a comforting squeeze to the shoulder and an understanding smile, and Regulus knows he will be fine. He still has his brother and his son.

The days pass, turning into weeks. He exchanges letters back and forth with Dumbledore, each more scathing than the last. The old man remains adamant about a visit, Regulus remains adamant about telling him to fuck off. Sirius, meanwhile, finds the whole thing hilarious and doesn't hesitate to egg Regulus on whenever he's penning his letter of the week to the Headmaster.

Harry keeps growing before his eyes. He's been crawling for a while now but in the middle of January he finally takes his first wobbly step. Regulus can't remember a time he's been happier than when the little boy stumbled his way across the living room towards him.

His speech is getting better, the raven haired boy improving in leaps and bounds. He still tends to mumble nonsense from time to time, and at first Regulus had a hard time deciphering his words, but he's getting better as well.

Time seems to be slipping through his fingers. January rapidly bleeds into February, then March, and now it's already April. He's made little progress with the Headmaster, but he isn't too concerned. As much as his heart aches for Britain, for Narcissa and Andromeda, Diagon Alley and Kreacher, Romania welcomed him with open arms and he's settled into a comforting routine with his two favorite people.

Of course, that routine is bound to be interrupted and frankly, Regulus is surprised it took this long.

"Sirius, could you pass me the apple jam, please?" Regulus asks without looking at his brother as he's busy pacifying a hungry Harry.

When he doesn't get a response and the jar is still not anywhere near him, he turns around to see Sirius staring blankly at a piece of parchment - letter, by the looks of it.

"Hey, is everything alright?" his voice is quiet, concern lacing the words, and it snaps Sirius away for a second, enough to meet his eyes. There is a faint sheen of tears in his brother's eyes.

"Remus wrote," is all he says.

Ah.

"Anything bad?" he picks the jar from the counter and unscrews the lid, scooping some into a bowl and mixing it around for a bit without taking his eyes off Sirius.

"No, it's nothing like that. He asked if we could meet. In Britain."

A quick, flash as lightning, panic zaps through his heart for a second but Regulus forces it down.

"You should go," he says before focusing on Harry. He starts feeding him the apple jam, staring intently as the spoon disappears behind plump lips.

"But...what about you and Harry?" Sirius sounds so lost, so torn, it makes Regulus burn with guilt for his earlier reaction. He has nothing to fear. Sirius won't leave him, he certainly won't leave Harry, just because he'll back to Britain for a few days or a week to catch up with his former boyfriend. Frankly, he's more surprised this hasn't happened earlier.

He feeds Harry another spoonful and turns his gaze on his brother while he lets his boy swallow his food. "We'll be fine, Sirius. Harry might throw a minor tantrum when you leave but he'll be right as rain once you're back."

"I know that," Sirius protests, an odd emotion on his face Regulus can't decipher. "I just don't want to leave you guys. But I also want to meet him."

So that's the problem. Well, Regulus can't say he knows Lupin that well or trusts him for that matter, but he trusts Sirius. And if doing this means he's taking some unnecessary pain away from his brother, then it's worth it. Besides, Sirius wouldn't risk Harry's safety for anything or anyone, not even his first love.

"Then tell him to come here. If you think he's trustworthy, then tell him to Portkey in Hungary or something, meet him there, make him swear a Vow of silence then take another Portkey here."

Relief washes over Sirius as he visibly slumps where he stands, a weight lifted off him and a tension disappearing from his frame.

"Thank you."

"There's no need," Regulus dismisses as he feeds Harry his last spoonful of jam. "I wouldn't make you choose between us and him. I know how much you've agonized over Lupin these past few months."

"You're a better brother than I deserve, Reggie," Sirius chuckles.

"Don't I know it," Regulus laughs, winking at a giggling Harry and booping his nose. "Let's get you cleaned up, Mister. We have shopping to do at the market today."

He scoops Harry up from the chair and carries him to his bedroom, walking past Sirius who's started writing his reply to Lupin.

"Market!" Harry exclaims, clapping in delight and grabbing a fistful of Regulus' long hair in his excitement. 

"No hair pulling, we've talked about this," he chides as he pries the tiny fist open and pulls his hair loose.

"Sowwy, Daddy."

Regulus rolls his eyes at the impish grin on the boy's face.

"Save it for someone who believes you, brat."

"I's not a bwat!"

"It's 'I am' and yes, you are. You're not fooling anybody. I'm blaming those Potter genes and Sirius' terrible influence."

"Nuh-uh," Harry shakes his head vigorously even while Regulus dumps him on the changing table and starts taking off the messy clothes.

"Keep the attitude up and I'll sell you to the Goblins, just you wait."

"Daddy! No selling Hawwy!"

"Whyever not?" Regulus adopts an air of confusion, swiftly changing the boy's nappy while he's distracted and starting to dress him back in clean clothes. "I'd get a few good Galleons off you."

"Cause you wove me."

Regulus pretends to think for a few seconds as he finishes buttoning Harry's clothes. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Maybe I'll sell you later, when you're older and less cuter."

"Daddy!" Harry pouts and crosses his arms petulantly. Regulus barely manages to hold in his laughter, then lifts the boy up to adjust his clothes.

When he's done, he holds Harry up to his eye level, looking seriously at him.

"Okay, I'm not selling you. Only because you're so cute."

Then he kisses his cheeks with a loud smack and Harry loses the pout, dissolving in a fit of giggles.

"Wove you, Daddy."

"And I love you too, my emerald."

They exit the bedroom and head back into the living room where Sirius has just sent off the owl back with his letter.

"Ready to go out?" he asks with a smile.

"Yes. Hold your godson while I put on my jacket," he hands Harry over like a sack of potatoes, making the boy giggle again.

"Daddy not selling me 'nymow."

"Is that so? Well good, cause I would have missed your curly noggin headbutting me in the morning," Sirius replies, poking the boy's cheek.

"Not his fault your definition of morning is 12 pm," Regulus quips as he shrugs his jacket on.

"Oy, I need my beauty sleep!"

"Doesn't seem to be doing much good though, does it, Harry?"

"Nope," Harry replies with a mischievous smile on his face, popping the P obnoxiously.

"Betrayed, by my own flesh and blood!"

"Let's go before your godfather has a breakdown," Regulus whispers to Harry as he takes him from Sirius' arms and secures him in his stroller.

Harry laughs, Sirius' indignant spluttering following them out of the door.

The spring sun is shining brightly through every window in the apartment, bathing the house in warmth and light as comforting as an embrace. Regulus leans back in his chair absent-mindedly, chewing on the end of his quill as he re-reads the latest letter from Dumbledore.

I promise you I will not remove Harry from you care, Regulus. But I beg of you to at least allow me to see for myself that he is well and safe. I owe him that much.

Regulus snorts as he finishes reading that particular line. Right, he owes it to Harry. It isn't because he's a control freak who can't stand the idea of not knowing, of not being in charge, of not having his two knuts thrown in at any given moment.

Frankly, he's getting tired of this constant back and forth. He can't understand why the old bastard isn't giving up already - it's fairly obvious Regulus won't budge on this. Lucius Malfoy is trusted because of his connection to Narcissa. Remus Lupin is trusted because of his connection to Sirius. Dumbledore has nothing in his favor to make Regulus trust him with Harry's location. Not because he believes the Headmaster capable or willing to cause Harry any harm, of any kind. But because he knows it will open the gateway to more frequent and inconvenient visits, to meddling on the old man's part, to presumption that he knows better than Regulus, that he has every right to get involved. It will give the Headmaster ideas that he is allowed, nay, invited to slither his way into Harry's life and start calling the shots regarding what should and should not be done, what is and is not permitted in regards to his son's education or lifestyle. 

Regulus won't permit that. Harry's life was, first and foremost, is his own - his current young age notwithstanding. Regulus himself will never impose his will over the boy's, will never force him one way or another or manipulate him into making the decisions he wants him to or going down a certain, carefully curated path. He will guide and advise and caution, never force or manipulate. Even if he won't always approve of Harry's choices and decisions and trains of thought. As long as it isn't anything harmful - to himself or others - Regulus vows to always give Harry free reign, within reason.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore would manipulate with that treacherous grandfatherly facade and those twinkling eyes that can hold so much disappointment in them at just the right times, and he would push Harry where he wants him to. The man has never been one to see the errors of his ways, possessing a frustrating sort of tunnel vision in most areas. Prejudiced, just like the Purebloods, only without the malice and desire to hurt.

Regulus doesn't know if Dumbledore has any plans for Harry in particular, and what those are if so, but he knows the old man well enough to guess that being the Boy-Who-Lived means something in the British Wizarding World at present and will continue to do so, maybe even more so, once Harry rejoins their world. Dumbledore would take advantage of having Harry on his side, unquestionably loyal and blinded by hero or mentor worship, eager to dance to the Headmaster's tune and ask how high when told to jump.

Malicious in nature or not, Regulus will not allow Dumbledore's machinations to take hold. When Harry's time to depart for Hogwarts comes - and it will come, he knows, because as much as he sometimes thinks of remaining here forever, the thought of abandoning his home country for good, of depriving Harry of the opportunity to study in and walk the very halls where his parents did before him, as well as him and Sirius, that thought cements Regulus' desire to come back eventually - he will be his own person, with his own thoughts and principles and values, and, if Regulus teaches him well, he won't be easily swayed by a kind smile and twinkling eyes.

Albus Dumbledore won't be adding Harry Potter to his chess board as yet another pawn to move about and sacrifice as he sees fit.

Malicious intent or not.

If you wish to see Harry and confirm that he is alive and well, I am willing to compromise. I will meet you in neutral territory, say France or Germany, and I will allow you half an hour in Harry's presence to make sure nothing untoward has been going on with him. A fair warning  though, this will not be a recurring event, and the next time you shall see him will be September 1st, 1991 if I decide to send him to Hogwarts by that time. Think it over and choose wisely, I will not offer again.

He signs his name with a flourish then rolls the parchment and gives it to Fawkes, who immediately takes off again. He slumps in his seat, rolling his shoulders to try and ease some tension and get rid of his annoying back pain.

A look at the clock tells him it's time to wake Harry up from his afternoon nap. Tossing his quill negligently onto the table, Regulus gets up and goes into his room to wake up his son. A smile pulls at his lips without his realization, as it often does these days, at the sight of the tiny boy sleeping peacefully on his back, midnight hair in disarray around his head like a dark halo, limbs spread in all directions as his tiny chest moves up and down with each breath he takes.

Regulus savors the blessed sight, feeling his love and adoration for the tiny human being swelling in his chest and traveling through his veins like liquid fire. He loves Harry the way flowers love the sun and Mother Magic loves Wizarding kind. And sometimes, he loves him the way he loves Mother Magic in return, worshipful and grateful and full of adoration.

Sirius leans against the doorframe as he takes in the sight before him. Regulus is propped up against the headboard of his bed, legs spread so that Harry can fit between them with his back leaning against Regulus' front. A Muggle story book is held loosely in Regulus' hand, the other occupied with stroking Harry's curly hair. The man is reading the story to his godson aloud, his smooth voice easily capturing and holding Harry's attention, and it has the little boy widening his eyes and gasping at the just the right moments.

Sirius smiles as he observes them. If he didn't know better, he might think them biologically father and son. Although still filled with baby fat, it's obvious Harry's face will grow into mostly Black features, no doubt inherited from Dorea, Harry's grandmother. His and Regulus' hair is the same shade of midnight black, darker than James's had been, a tad darker than Sirius' is. The only differences between the two are that Regulus' hair is a bit wavy while Harry's is wildly curly, and, of course, the fact that Harry has the most enchanting and breathtaking green eyes he's ever seen while Regulus' are blue, bordering on grey - much like Sirius' own.

Regardless of blood relation, they are the epitome of father and son, and it does not pain Sirius to admit it. Once upon a time, maybe it would have, but now? Sirius has lost too much in such a swift move to care about any of that. And in his heart, he knows neither James nor Lily would resent him or Regulus for this. He reckons Lily might even be sighing in relief that her son will have a more responsible parent in his life than Sirius.

"And that's why the little boy vowed to always listen to his mother about talking to strangers in the forest," Regulus' voice brings him out of his thoughts and he smiles at the sleepy look on Harry's face. "Sleep tight, my emerald."

Regulus pulls Harry in his arms and deposits him in his crib, kissing his forehead and lingering for a moment before withdrawing. He gently closes the storybook and places it on his nightstand before approaching Sirius. They both leave the room, closing the door softly behind them with a monitoring charm placed on it by Regulus that will notify him if Harry wakes up.

They walk into the kitchen where Sirius leans against the counter while Regulus fills a glass of water and drinks from it.

"You're good with him," Sirius can't help but remark.

"Thank you," Regulus blushes slightly and ducks his head. It's endearing to see his brother flustered because of a compliment on his parenting. "He makes it easy. I swear the things Narcissa tells me about Draco make me want to build Harry a shrine for being so well behaved."

"Nah, mate, that's thanks to you," Sirius shakes his head and chuckles. "Those two spoil Draco too much. I know it's because he was a blessing to them after so many failed pregnancies, but it's still no way to raise a child. You raised Harry right from the beginning. I've never known a parent could be both stern and fair and loving before I saw you with him. Almost makes me jealous of the little terror, wish our parents had been like that."

He says it mostly as a joke, but he sees a shadow pass over Regulus' face and immediately sobers.

"That's why I'm doing it like this," Regulus says it so softly Sirius almost doesn't catch it. "I'm taking everything they did and doing the complete opposite. And I guess there's some biology involved in there somewhere because so many things are instinctual; I don't even realize I'm doing it until afterwards."

"I know it's hard, Reggie. But you're a wonderful father, better than anyone could be for Harry. So don't sell yourself short."

"Thanks," Regulus finally cracks a small smile again and nudges his shoulder. "Are you leaving to meet with Lupin?"

"Yeah, he'll arrive in Budapest in half an hour. I want to get there early to prepare myself."

He exhales shakily, feeling his nervousness start to take over. He's been so good at ignoring it ever since the letter, but now that he is so close to seeing his first love, maybe his only love, after everything that has happened, he can't contain it.

A gentle but firm hand grabbing both of his makes him look up into Regulus' kind face.

"It will be alright. I'm sure Lupin is just as nervous to see you as you are. Take all the time you need to catch up before coming back, okay? If you feel the need for it, rent a hotel room in Budapest and stay a few days, Harry and I will be fine."

"No, it's fine," Sirius shakes his head vehemently. He doesn't understand why, but he really doesn't want to leave Reggie and Harry alone for more than a few hours. Maybe the fear of abandonment, or more likely the fear of losing them, just like he lost James and Lily, has made him paranoid.

"Okay then. Apparate safely and send me a Patronus if anything comes up. And have fun."

"Thank you," Sirius breathes. He truly is grateful for his brother. He doesn't know what he'd do if he was all alone.

He pushes away from the counter, slings his jacket over his shoulder and straps his wand to the holster on his wrist, then leaves the apartment but not before shooting his brother another smile and receiving a thumbs up. He descends the stairs two at a time until he comes out of the building, then turns towards the nearest Apparition Point where he takes a deep breath before he turns on his heel.

The slightly colder air of Budapest whips around him when he lands on Hungarian soil. Sirius shrugs on the leather jacket, feeling marginally better immediately, then makes his way to the International Floo Reception where he gets a cheap coffee in a paper cup and settles in a chair to wait for Remus.

A wandless Tempus tells him he still has about 20 minutes until Remus is due to arrive, so he takes a sip of the scorching coffee before carefully putting it down on the vacant seat next to him so that he can rummage through the pockets of his jacket.

"Got you," he mumbles under his breath when he finally manages to take out the pack of cigarettes and the lighter he keeps there, then lights up one of them and leans back in his seat.

He allows his thoughts to drift as he smokes the cigarette and sips at the coffee. His mind jumps from one incoherent thought to the next, never lingering on any one of them long enough to expand on them, instead leaving them as incomplete snippets. He can't concentrate on anything solid for more than a few seconds as his entire being is filled with equal parts nervousness and longing.

"And here I was hoping you'd quit."

Sirius whips his head around so quickly he thinks he might have broken his neck, but he doesn't pay it any mind. He drops the half finished cigarette in the coffee cup without a care then jumps to his feet and closes the few feet gap between him and Remus in record time.

"You're early!" he exclaims, tugging Remus in a bone crushing hug. Remus laughs breathlessly and wraps his arms around Sirius in turn, the latter breathing in the werewolf's scent and relishing the comforting, familiar warmth. Unbeknownst to him, Remus is busy doing the same thing.

"It's good to see you, Padfoot," Remus whispers against his shoulder. Sirius tightens his grip on the man a fraction.

"I missed you so much, Moony."

They finally break apart after a moment but neither move too far. They gaze at the other with such emotional thirst, as if the sight of the other is the water each has been craving for months of being stranded in the desert.

"How about we move this somewhere else? Preferably with a bit more privacy," Remus raises an amused eyebrow when it seems like Sirius is content to sit there and watch him all day. And he is. But Remus doesn't need to know that.

"Right you are, Moony. Let's go, I made a reservation at that restaurant you always told me you wanted to eat at."

"Trófea?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Let's go before we're late."

"I got here almost 20 minutes early, Padfoot, I doubt we'll be late," Remus laughs but relents at Sirius' insistent tugging on his hand.

Sirius knows that, but he's impatient to sit down and talk to Remus, so he ignores it. They make their way out of the Floo Reception and into the busy streets of Budapest, and they talk about random things, nothing too serious, and laugh on the way to the restaurant. Sirius feels like he truly is 22 for the first time in a long time. He doesn't miss the fact that Remus has yet to pull his hand out of Sirius' hold either.

Maybe he had nothing to worry about after all.

Regulus is getting restless. He knows it's stupid and childish and completely irrational but the anxiety and worry buzzing in his head and in his veins don't care about pesky things like logic.

It has been barely two hours since Sirius left to meet with Lupin. Of course he is still gone, they'd barely have time to catch up to the last month of each of their lives, nevermind the entire six months they've been apart. And that's without getting into all the issues they need to talk about and clear up before they can come here.

And yet.

Regulus knows he is being silly, he really does. But suddenly he's 14 again, slumped on his bedroom floor at Grimmauld Place, pressing his ear to the door as he listens to his mother Crucio-ing Sirius repeatedly, yelling at him about disgracing the illustrious House of Black by associating with Gryffindors, Blood Traitors and Half Breeds. Hearing Sirius' attempts at keeping his screams on the inside so as not to give her the satisfaction. Hearing his father telling Sirius how disappointed he is, how he thought he'd come around eventually after the disaster that was his brother's first year. Hearing Orion Black spitting on the ground Sirius lay on and proclaiming he only has one son and it isn't the Gryffindor breathing harshly through sporadic spasms of pain and multiple lacerations caused by his mother's Cutting Curse. Hearing Sirius get up from the floor, making his way into the room opposite Regulus', packing up his things and leaving when their parents were busy yelling at each other in father's study.

All without a glance back, without a goodbye, without even a half hearted attempt to convince Regulus to come with him.

He can't help but think back on that memory, and his mind can't help but draw parallels. Because why would Sirius stick around? He can be a godfather to Harry without living in the same house, hell even the same country, as him. It isn't like he would have lived with the Potters had they survived.

And he has Lupin now, doesn't he? The love of his life, back in his life, and what need does he have for Regulus? The pathetic little brother who got pressured into joining a band of terrorists, the very same people his brother fought against since he graduated from Hogwarts, while Regulus cowered behind a bone white mask and hoped he wouldn't run into Sirius because he'd sooner Avada himself than lay a hand on his brother.

What right does he have to be back in Sirius' life? What reason does Sirius have to want to stick around?

It would be so easy for him to leave with Lupin, send a letter to say "sorry not sorry, I actually can't stand you and now that I have someone in my life I actually love I'm legging it. See you the next time I wanna see Harry. Better yet, I'll just take him for good as well because we both know Death Eater scum don't make good parents and Merlin knows how Harry'll turn out with you as a father."

Before he knows it, Regulus is hyperventilating, clutching at his chest in desperation, tears flowing down his face unbidden. He collapses on the floor from lack of oxygen, still struggling to calm himself down and regulate his breathing but his lungs won't cooperate. Black spots start to block his vision and he knows he's going to pass out - it wouldn't be the first time.

Suddenly, there is warmth on his face, a gentle touch, soft and grounding and present. He hears a wobbly voice calling out to him and it takes him a moment to place it - Harry.

He forces himself to turn his eyes forward and his son's teary face greets him. Slowly, the ringing in his ears subsides enough for Harry's voice to reach him.

"Daddy, come back! Don't die like Mamma and Dada!"

It breaks Regulus' heart. He manages to focus his breathing, slowly and painfully, in the course of a few minutes, longer than if he'd had someone there to guide him, but every time his breathing starts to pick up again he looks into terrified green eyes and he grits his teeth and forces his breathing down. 

After what feels like an eternity he finally comes back to himself, and he slumps on the floor on his back, taking Harry with him. He pulls him close to his chest, holding him as tight as he can without hurting the little boy, his hand buried in the dark curls.

"I'm fine now. Thank you, Harry," he says breathlessly and he feels Harry tightening his little arms around his middle.

"That was scawy, Daddy."

"I know, emerald. I'm so sorry you had to see me like that."

And he is. Harry doesn't need defective parents in his life. He needs him sane and whole, someone to lean on, not drag back up from the bottom. Regulus hates himself a little more.

"What 'appened?" comes Harry's small, quiet voice. Regulus feels the vibration from where Harry has his cheek pressed tightly to his side.

"That was a panic attack, Harry," he tells him quietly. "I was scared and the fear swept me like a wave. You pulled me back to shore."

"Are you dying?"

The question stills his heart for a second. That second seems to stretch on for too long and Regulus fears his heart might have stopped for good. Harry's sniffling brings him back, yet again.

"Oh no, baby boy. I'm perfectly fine, see? Daddy's alive and well and I'm not dying any time soon." He bends down to press a kiss on Harry's forehead then lets his head thunk back on the floor. "It's like a sickness, you know? Only, it's not physical, not really. When you catch a cold, you sniff and you cough and your head hurts, right?" Harry nods. "But with my panic attacks, it starts in my head, in my mind. Bad thoughts add and add and add and suddenly there's no more room for them in there anymore. And they have to get out. And that's how they do it. I can't breathe anymore and I need someone to help me learn how to do it again."

"I will help you, Daddy," Harry says with so much conviction, so much understanding that for a moment Regulus forgers he's talking to an almost 2 year old. It warms his heart and breaks it in equal measure, and he loves this kind, smart and compassionate little boy even more than he thought possible.

"Thank you, Harry. I love you so much."

"Wove you too."

He pulls Harry closer and wraps him in both arms as he turns to lay on his side, clinging to the little boy in his arms like a lifeline or the teddy bear he used to cuddle as a boy himself when the yelling and the object breaking in the house was too much. Harry holds him back just as tightly.

They've moved over to the couch by the time Sirius and Lupin arrive. Regulus is fiddling with Harry's hands as he stares at the ceiling while his son's gaze is glued to the television where a live adaptation of some Romanian novel is playing.

He hears the keys jingling in the lock, hushed voices, then the door opens and admits the people Regulus has been waiting for. He hates how his heart jumps in his throat in relief when his eyes fall on Sirius.

"Padfoot! You're home!" Harry headbutts Regulus' chin in his excitement as he throws his head back and holds his arms open for his godfather. "Sowwy Daddy," he at least has the decency to throw over his shoulder before redirecting his attention to Sirius, who is making his way towards them with a smile on his face.

"Missed me, squirt?" Sirius teases, bending down to pick Harry up in a tight hug and spinning him around a bit before plopping him back on the couch with a ruffle to his messy hair.

"We've kept busy, don't worry," Regulus answers with a small, if strained, smile, remembering his earlier panic attack.

"Yeah! I helped Daddy learn to breathe," Harry announces quite proudly. While Regulus is happy to note no lingering emotional distress caused by his episode in Harry, he really wishes his son had kept that little fact to himself.

Sirius turns confused eyes to him, asking for an explanation.

"It's nothing," Regulus replies quietly, glancing at Lupin who has remained in the threshold and hasn't said anything yet. "I'll tell you later."

That he hopes Sirius will forget to ask later he doesn't add.

"Oh well," Sirius smiles again, even if a trace of confusion lingers. "Reggie, Harry, please meet my boyfriend, Remus Lupin."

He ends the instruction with a sort of flourish, presenting Lupin to them like a prized heirloom, his pride and joy. Regulus can see the obvious love and affection in those grey eyes, and feels himself softening. If his brother can look at someone like that and mean it, then maybe they aren't such a bad person.

"Regulus Black, pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Lupin. Formally, that is."

He gets up from the couch and crosses the space between him and Lupin, extending his hand for a handshake. Lupin smiles at him a bit nervously but takes the proferred hand.

"Nice to meet you. And please call me Remus."

"Then call me Regulus."

Lup- Remus nods and smiles, and it feels like a little bit of tension has left the man's body. Regulus steps back and allows Harry to meet Remus, again, for it seems like Harry doesn't remember him that well. It makes sense, given the fact that Remus was mostly away on missions from Dumbledore after Harry was born, and very rarely visited the cottage in Godric's Hollow, especially after doubts regarding the traitor had risen. Sirius told him a lot about what went on in his life between graduation up until his arrest.

Harry may not remember Remus, or indeed his face, but when the name Moony tumbles out of Sirius' lips, his son's green eyes light up with recognition and he starts babbling a mile a minute, nearly half of his words unintelligible.

Regulus shakes his head and leaves them to it, going to prepare some tea. Tilly has been busy helping out the Black elves with redecorating some of the abandoned Black properties on his Mother's order, and Regulus sent her away, not wanting Walburga to notice a missing elf and to start asking questions. While Tilly is sworn to secrecy, she can still get punished by her Mistress for withholding information; and it isn't like she won't trace it all back to him anyway.

Because of that, he's been keeping busy, in turn, with keeping the apartment tidy and with cooking. Sirius helps on the cleaning front, grumbling and whining aside, but Regulus hasn't dared to allow him near the kitchen for anything other than eating since the first time Sirius volunteered to make them spaghetti. Regulus is no chef, he is the first to admit that, but nothing he could ever cook would be worse than the burnt pasta and uncooked sauce Sirius whipped up.

"Anything I can help you with?" Remus' voice draws Regulus away from the spot on the counter he's been unconsciously burning a hole into for the past minute. The man is leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pocket and an easy smile on his scarred face. Regulus didn't interact with Remus Lupin too much during their school days, mainly because the other was always in the background of all the pranks Sirius and James pulled, always miraculously absent whenever they got in trouble for them too.

While teenage Regulus would have sneered at the man for being a coward and not getting involved, either to join his friends or to stop them, present Regulus appreciates the man's behavior while at Hogwarts: willing to help his friends with their pranks but unwilling to get punished for it; not stepping in to stop them when they went too far, but not contributing to it either.

Never having had such close friends in his life, Regulus can only guess that he wouldn't jeopardize his friendships to help some random nobody he has no ties to either. Even if it isn't morally correct. Few things are when you're a teenager, Regulus supposes.

"I don't think so," he finally answers when he realizes he's been quiet for too long. "Aside from telling me how you take your tea," he smiles, trying to send Remus the message that his spacing out had nothing to do with disliking the man.

"Black, three sugars."

Regulus nods then turns to the boiling kettle, taking it off the stove. He levitates three cups from the cupboard and two boxes of tea - one green, one black - then sets about pouring the hot water over the tea and letting it steep.

"Sirius told me a bit about what you did with Harry," Remus breaks the silence again, his voice lacking any kind of aggression or accusation, though Regulus still tenses. He doesn't turn around, but instead makes himself look busy with putting things away by hand, and only hums in response.

"I know I have no right to say it, especially since I didn't even entertain the idea of visiting Harry myself, but I want to say it regardless: thank you for doing that, Regulus. I'm sorry I ever thought badly of you during Hogwarts, it's obvious I was mistaken."

Regulus' hand stills on the sugar bowl he just placed back on its shelf, and he takes a deep breath before turning around. He studies Remus carefully, eyes tracing every scar on his face, every wrinkle and hole and patch in his shabby clothes, every scuff on his battered boots. Remus' expression is open and sincere, and Regulus can't, for the life of him, understand why this man would bother with an apology, as if he ever voiced those thoughts to Regulus during school. He wouldn't have even known there had been any animosity from Remus' side toward him during Hogwarts if the man hadn't brought it up.

Maybe he feels guilty about it? Or maybe, just like Regulus still does, he is looking for something else to provide a reason to be punished, so that he can pretend the punishment is for something else, the thing he really believes the deserves to be punished over.

Or maybe Regulus is just projecting.

"You weren't," Regulus replies, voice clipped. "I was pathetic and weak and joined the Death Eaters because of familial and peer pressure, and almost died in the process of leaving the same Death Eaters a few years later when I got some sense knocked into me. And as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I don't require thanks for doing what any human being with a bit of decency would have done. Especially not now when I consider that boy my son. I would never need to be thanked for raising my son."

He didn't meant it to, but his voice comes out harsh and stinging. He didn't realize just how much insecurity is boiling in his head regarding his role in Harry's life. But his defensiveness shows him loud and clear.

Before Remus can reply, he adds, "I didn't mean to sound angry with you. I apologize."

"No, there's no need," Remus shakes his head. "You are right, after all. If you won't accept my thanks or my apology, then how about a promise to start things over with a clean slate?"

"That, I can do," he replies and they shake hands again before he steps back and starts placing the tea cups on a tray. "Could you please hold the door open for me?"

Remus does as asked, allowing Regulus to walk back into the living room with the tea. He hears the door click closed and footsteps following him, and he smiles when he spots his son fast asleep on the couch, his head propped up on Sirius' thigh.

"I'll take him to bed. Be right back," he whispers then picks the little boy up with a soft smile, kissing his forehead before making his way silently to his bedroom. He doesn't notice the surprised but happy smile on Remus' face, nor Sirius' quiet, "I told you he was good with him". He's too busy listening to his son's adorable snores.

It's a warm day that greets him when he Portkeys to France with Harry in his arms. The radiant sun chases away the sharp sting of the wind they left behind in Bucharest, and Regulus doesn't hesitate to remove the hat he placed on Harry's head - the last thing he needs is for the boy to get sweaty and catch a cold when they go back home.

Wix of all kinds rush all around them, some arriving, others departing through Portkeys, and Harry's head keeps swiveling from side to side in an effort to study everyone and everything. Although they go on outings both in the Muggle world and the Wizarding one quite often, the crowds are usually thinner and less chaotic than in here.

Narrowly missing being hit by a disgruntled Hungarian witch who's mumbling furiously under her breath, Regulus shifts Harry slightly in his arms, recasts the Feather-light Charm on the boy, then walks out of the receiving room of the Lyon Portkey Office.

He's never been to the restaurant Dumbledore suggested, somewhere in the Muggle part of Lyon, so he can't Apparate there. Instead, as soon as he is outside on the busy streets of the French city, Regulus hails a cab and instructs the driver on where to take them in French.

He fusses over Harry during the entire ride in an effort to dissuade the driver from making small talk, and gratefully climbs out of the car with a quiet "Merci," as he closes the door behind them. Muggle hater he might not be anymore, but he still feels distinctly uncomfortable around them sometimes; old habits do die hard it seems.

He puts Harry down once they nearly reach the restaurant and fixes the boy's slightly rumpled clothes with a smile.

"Now, emerald, remember what I told you. The man we are meeting will most likely ask you a lot of questions and I want you to answer them truthfully, no matter what. If he or the questions make you uncomfortable, tell me, okay? And I want to know as soon as you get tired. We won't remain here if you're too tired or bored." He won't force his son to socialize with Dumbledore if the boy gets overwhelmed; he will always put Harry's well being above everything else.

"Yes, Daddy," Harry nods vigorously with a bright grin.

"That's my boy."

He takes Harry's hand in his own and walks into the restaurant, where he is directed to a table by one of the attendants. To Regulus' sour displeasure, Dumbledore is already seated there, sipping on a colorful mystery drink and perusing the menu. Thankfully, none of his garish robes seem to be present.

"Regulus, my boy! So good to see you," the man greets jovially just as they near the table and Regulus has to work hard to school his expression into a friendly one instead of allowing the grimace he wants to make to show on his face.

"Dumbledore, likewise. This is Harry, my son."

Harry looks up in wonder at the old wizard, hand in a vice grip where Regulus is holding it.

"You might not remember me, Harry, but you puked on me once when I babysat for your parents," Dumbledore's eyes twinkle infuriatingly down at Harry. An unexpectedly strong feeling of protectiveness threatens to overwhelm Regulus and he barely keeps from snatching Harry and running back to Bucharest with him.

"You knowed Papa and Mama?"

"Knew, love. Not knowed," Regulus corrects on instinct without even looking at his son, too busy staring daggers at Dumbledore.

"Indeed I did," Dumbledore ignores Regulus' correction, plowing on. "I could tell you about them if you want. But first I think we should seat ourselves and order some food. I'm partial to the boeuf bourguignon, myself."

"Yes, that's a good idea," Regulus bites out before bending down to pick Harry up and settle him in the chair next to his. After making sure Harry is properly seated, he pulls out his own chair and settles at the table, picking up a menu and going over it quickly.

He orders a salade lyonnaise for him and a pomme purée for Harry, as well as a glass of Jolie-Laide Rosé of Valdiguié for the salad. Harry, surprisingly, refuses a glass of juice, opting to stick to his water, and Regulus suspects the Portkey unsettled his stomach a bit more than it did all those months ago when they first arrived in Bucharest.

If he refuses to order Dumbledore's suggestion out of spite, despite knowing how delicious the dish is, well that is no one's business but his own.

"I trust you got here alright, my boy," Dumbledore speaks after they order their food. Regulus nods stiffly.

"It was alright."

"My tummy got cockroaches though," Harry pipes up on his right and Regulus turns to stare at him in confusion.

"Your tummy got what?" What in Merlin's beard does the boy mean?

"Well we appeared in the room with all the people and then the cockroaches were crawling in my belly," Harry explains matter of factly, in that voice he gets when he thinks everyone is stupid except for him.

Regulus laughs when it hits him. "You got nauseous because of the Portkey trip, Harry, it's not cockroaches."

Honestly, the imagination of kids trying to come up with ways to describe the world around them is astounding. Children truly do see the world through a completely different lens.

"How do you know? I can feel them in my tummy and you can't," Harry argues with a ridiculous, and frankly adorable, pout.

"Drink your water to feed those cockroaches of yours and drop the pout then, you menace," Regulus laughs and nudges the boy softly. Harry drops the pout at the teasing and grins shyly before carefully picking up the half full glass with both hands and taking a sip.

Regulus looks back from him once the glass is safely back on the table and manages to catch the surprised if pleased look on Dumbledore's face. While it's a good sign, Regulus internally bristles at the expression. How dare he look approving after more or less accusing him of being unable to raise a child for the past few months!

"So, Harry, now that the cockroaches have been watered, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?"

Regulus hates to admit it, but the old man is good with children. The kind, grandfatherly smile on his old face certainly helps to inspire trust, and the gentle and coaxing voice finishes the job of ensuring any naive child will be hanging onto his every word. Under normal, strictly Hogwarts related circumstances it's a perfect quality to have as a Headmaster. Under these circumstances, though? Regulus is fighting hard not to grit his teeth in annoyance.

He tunes back to the conversation between his son and the old wizard, listening to Harry listing off all the games he likes to play, his favorite toys and each of their names, and the fun activities he does outside and around the house with Sirius.

"But the bestest thing is when Daddy reads me stories and kisses me every time I answer a good question!" Harry finishes breathlessly with a smile directed at him that is so bright, Regulus thought his son has stolen the sun from the sky and trapped it there. It warms his heart more than the sun outside ever could, though, and he knows that whatever wonder was weaved in his son's smiles it is a thousand times brighter and warmer than the star in the sky.

"And does Daddy ever get upset with you when you get the questions wrong? Or when you make mistakes?" Dumbledore presses, breaking Regulus away from the moment. He doesn't miss the way the other subtly emphasized the word "Daddy", nor the implication behind the questions. He grits his teeth and allows it, if only to convince the fool that Regulus is a good parent and certainly not abusing Harry. 

"What d'ya mean?" Harry tilts his head adorably to one side, his face the picture of confusion. "Why would he do that? Daddy never gets mad, not even when Padfoot puts salt in his tea 'stead o' sugar or that one time I puked on his hair in my sleep," he wrinkles his nose at the memory. Regulus wasn't the only one disgusted upon waking up during that night, one of the few he allowed Harry to sleep with him because of the boy's stomach ache in the evening.

"He told me he will sell me to the Goblins for being a brat a while ago but he loves me too much and he knows Sirius would buy me back anyway," Harry shrugs nonchalantly.

Before Dumbledore can grill the boy with any more questions, their food finally arrives and they direct their attention to their plates. Regulus keeps a close eye on Harry's hand as he holds the fork with his entire fist, watching for any signs of eyes being poked by accident.

They finish their meal quietly and Regulus busies himself with drinking his remaining wine as he lets Dumbledore and Harry continue their conversation. Thankfully, the Headmaster moves on from questions about their homelife, and instead starts recounting a few stories about James Potter and Lily Evans as he knew them at Hogwarts and in the Order.

When Harry starts rubbing his eyes every minute or so, Regulus knows it's time to head back home. The boy makes his exhaustion known and Regulus nods.

"Well, we must be off, Dumbledore. It's time for Harry's afternoon nap and I don't want to ruin his sleep schedule. I'm sure you got all the proof you need that he's in quite capable hands and isn't likely to spontaneously combust or turn into the next Dark Lord," he raises a mocking eyebrow at the man.

"Certainly, my boy. Certainly. I'm happy Harry is happy," Dumbledore winks at his son who smiles tiredly back at him. "Is there no way to convince you to allow me to know your location, though? He's a delightful young man and I can't say I would mind visiting him again."

The request seems innocent enough, and Dumbledore appears to be actually honest about his motives for once. Regulus almost gives in. Almost.

"I'm sure I made it quite clear in my letter. If all goes well, we might be back in England in a few years and you can visit him then. If nothing else, I wish to keep our current location known to as few people as possible in case we will ever need a sanctuary. Surely you agree."

"Very well," he replies a bit sadly, but he seems resigned to Regulus' decree. It's clear he knows he's been in the wrong to antagonize Regulus all this time and realizes this is the payment for that. "Well I shan't keep you any longer, Harry seems seconds away from falling asleep in his chair. Have a safe trip back to your residence. I hope to hear from you both soon."

"Goodbye, Dumbledore."

Regulus picks Harry up from the chair, throws some money on the table to cover their order, then walks out of the restaurant without looking back. He Apparates the both of them back to the Portkey Office and waits a few minutes for their return Portkey to Bucharest, all the while contemplating their lunch date.

He wanted to tear into the Headmaster more than once, for various reasons, but he held himself back for Harry's sake. It's true that Harry has never seen him angry - he made a habit to remain calm in the boy's presence no matter what, because that is the example he wants to set for Harry as well. Mostly, though, he doesn't want his son to ever be afraid of him, of his reaction to his mistakes or worries, to his failures.

But the urge to throw his wine in Dumbledore's face had been strong. He can admit that the man is genuinely looking out for Harry in his own flawed way, but it doesn't infuriate him any less that the man has so little trust in him, in Sirius. Is it not obvious that he is a good fit as a parent if Sirius has yet to drag him kicking and screaming back to England?

No matter, the meeting is over and hopefully it will be a long time before they hear from Dumbledore again. The man can go and meddle in someone else's life now for all Regulus cares, or better yet, actually focus on running the school he's in charge of for once, instead of playing war general or master manipulator.

"Le Portoloin pour Bucarest part dans 30 secondes," the announcement brings Regulus back to the present and he nudges Harry gently.

"That's us, emerald. Grab the shoelace and hold onto me like before."

Harry nods sluggishly and does as told. A few seconds later, they leave Lyon in a swirl of colors and Regulus feels like he can finally breathe freely again.

Life in the Black-Potter-Lupin household seems to settle after Regulus' meeting with Dumbledore.

Remus and Regulus get more comfortable with each other as they begin knowing one another in that way only people living under the same roof are able to do. Sirius and Remus learn how to be in a relationship all over again, and they both seem to be better for it too. Sirius smiles more, laughs more, and Regulus is surprised to realize how subdued he was before reuniting with his boyfriend.

Harry and Remus become just as joined at the hip as Harry and Sirius have been from the beginning, and where Regulus might have predicted jealousy in his heart, there is only happiness that his boy, despite the tough hand life dealt him, still has so many people in his life eager to love him and watch him grow into a young man. Sirius and Regulus often spend their evenings talking about anything and everything on the balcony while Remus takes Harry for one last walk around the neighborhood, and it's nice for both of them to re-learn how to be brothers and have a brother in equal measure.

As for Regulus and Harry, well. Time spent with his son, encouraging him to walk further and further without aid in the house, trying to teach him to use the potty, letting him crack eggs in their cookie batter, or simply running his hands through those dark curls as Harry dozes on his chest in the living room, all of it os the highlight of his day.

Sirius teases him about getting domesticated and how Harry has him wrapped around his little finger. Regulus rather thinks it's nice to have someone so loving and innocent depending on him, looking up to him with those gorgeous eyes, expecting him to make it all better whenever he trips on the carpet and gets a scrape on his knee, or when his accidental magic dyes the curtains bright yellow.

It's one of those days when Harry is following him around everywhere, wanting to see and touch and do everything Regulus does (he complains to Sirius about Harry getting in his way everywhere but he secretly loves it just like he loves everything the boy did).

He's peeling an apple for Harry, the boy watching him intently as if hoping to learn the sacred art of peeling fruit from a master, and so he isn't paying too much attention to the boy himself, too busy making sure he isn't about to peel his fingers too.

"Reggie have you seen this?!" Sirius' yelling startles him so badly he almost does peel his index finger. He puts down the knife and apple and lifts his head to glare at his brother. Sirius is very lucky eyes can't do magic because he would be a pile of ashes on the floor at this moment.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about? And could we maybe use our indoor voices, Siri dear? I thought I'd only have to use that lecture on Harry but I tend to forget I have two children in the house," Regulus hisses.

"Nevermind that," Sirius doesn't even seem phased and at this point Regulus doesn't know why he bothers anymore. "Look at Harry!"

"What about-" Regulus finally switches his gaze to his son, perched on his high chair, looking at them both with a lot of confusion in his grey eyes.

Wait, grey?

Regulus scrambles from his spot at the table and approaches the boy, looking at him with wide eyes. Harry's own green eyes are nowhere to be seen, as they've d turned such a particular shade of grey that Regulus just knows they mirror his own perfectly. A more thorough search of the chubby face makes him realize that Harry's nose is sharper too, cheekbones a tad higher, and his hair is just slightly wavy as opposed to the trademark Potter curls.

Regulus stares at him in astonishment and no little amount of wonder.

"Harry, love, did you change your face?" Regulus' voice is a bit choked up when he asks, but he ignores it, still not taking his eyes off the little wonder in front of him.

"Yeah," Harry answers, confusion still apparent in his own voice, as if not understanding why it's such a big deal.

"Would you mind telling me why? And how?"

"Siri always says we look alike but my eyes and hair are different and my face is soft but yours is pointy so I just did," he shrugs.

Regulus turns his head to face Sirius, seeing the same astonishment mirrored in his face.

"Well looks like Nymphadora isn't the only Metamorphmagus in the family anymore," Sirius laughs breathlessly.

"Not indeed," Regulus whispers. "This is wonderful, Harry," he hurries to assure his son who's started to look anxious now, "you just surprised us. Being a metamorphmagus, as in changing your appearance, is a gift well known to the House of Black but which hasn't been common for years in our family. Your cousin, Nymphadora, was the first in a century."

"So I can turn into anyone I want?"

"With practice, sure. When you meet your cousin I'm sure she'll be more than happy to give you any tips she has," Regulus boops the boy's nose and smiles. Harry smiles back before turning to Sirius.

"Can we play now that you're awake?"

"Let me drink my coffee and you have a deal."

"Fine," Harry pouts and Sirius ruffles his hair as he moves towards the counter to grab his mug.

Regulus picks up the apple and goes back to peeling it, shaking his head, unnoticed by the two other occupants of the room who are busy sniping at each other. "Of course he's a metamorphmagus," he mutters, a smile on his face.

And just like that, the Black-Potter-Lupin household is already over a discovery of that importance, because ancient bloodline-specific gifts are nothing compared to eating apples peeled and sliced by a loving father, or playing games with a child in a man's body that masquerades as a godfather.

Life moves on. Harry starts using his metamorphmagus abilities more and more, sometimes getting stuck with blonde hair and ginger eyebrows for a few days before he reverts back to normal, other times stubbornly refusing to look like himself for weeks, instead cycling through vague approximations of Regulus, Sirius or Remus. He hasn't mastered the art of changing into an exact replica of another person, which is something too advanced for a boy his age, but he manages to alter his features just enough to look like he could have been a baby version of any of the three men.

Dumbledore stops pestering Regulus with letters, as well, more or less giving them his blessing, not that Regulus ever needed it. But with the Headmaster's acceptance of the situation and the lack of fear that he'll be tracked down by Aurors and carted off to Azkaban for kidnapping Britain's savior, also comes the possibility to get a hold of Andromeda and invite her to Bucharest.

The perfect opportunity comes in July, on the 31st to be exact, since both Regulus and Sirius want to throw Harry a nice birthday party but have decided that the boy deserves to have more guests than the three of them.

As such, Sirius is in charge of inviting Narcissa over the two-way mirror, while Regulus sits down and writes his other cousin a letter.

Dear Andy,

I'm sorry for only contacting you now, but I wasn't sure if it was safe to do so until recently. I know you are the more sensible of the Black sisters, so I'm sure you'll understand and appreciate my caution.

I hope you and your family are healthy and happy. How old is your little Nymphadora now? If I remember correctly she should be turning 9 soon, correct? As for Ted, I know he was training to become a mediwizard for St. Mungo's the last time we spoke so many years ago, did he manage to finish it or did he change his mind?

I know Sirius reached out to you on Yule to invite you here, but you declined on account of Dora being sick. So, I assume he told you a little bit about our situation. I confess, Andy, that I never thought I'd come to love that little boy so much when I decided to take him away. I feel like he truly is my son, despite not being directly biologically related. Every time I look at him, I remember my own childhood and I can't imagine treating him the way our parents treated us for even a second. So maybe blood isn't everything after all.

I apologize for my rambling, cousin. I seem to have forgotten the point of this letter.

As I'm sure everyone in Britain knows, Harry's birthday is coming up this Saturday, and I wish to celebrate it properly. We would be delighted to have you, Ted and Nymphadora over for a few days if you can spare it. Harry needs more children to interact with, and despite their age gap Harry is rather bright for his age so I'm sure they'll get along. Fair warning, however, we discovered a few months ago that Harry has apparently inherited the metamorphmagus gift as well, so I'm sure we'll have our work cut out for us in keeping him and Dora from causing too much mischief.

Narcissa, Lucius and their son, Draco will be in attendance as well. I know from Cissa that you've been in contact since Yule and have begun mending your relationship so I hope their presence will not put you off.

I'm looking forward to your reply. I hope you'll accept the invitation, and I hope to see you soon.

Love,
Reggie

Regulus casts a quick drying charm on the ink, then rolls up the letter and puts it aside, to take to the Owl Office in the magical side of Bucharest later in the day.

He checks with Sirius that Narcissa confirmed the Malfoys' attendance but his brother is still in the call with his cousin so he stops to chat with her for a few minutes then goes back to his bedroom to check on Harry. He finds his son still asleep for his afternoon nap, so he goes to the living room to talk to Remus.

"Hey, I'm going out to send the letter to Andromeda. Could you keep an ear out for when Harry wakes? Tilly will prepare his meal and watch him while he eats," he asks the man who was in the process of reading a book.

Remus lifts his gaze from his book and nods. "No worries, Regulus. I have him, you can go."

"Thank you," Regulus replies then pops back into Sirius' room to let him know he's going out, and leaves the apartment.

It's a ridiculously hot day in Romania, as summers tend to be here, so much aggressively hotter than it ever is in Britain. By the time Regulus rounds the corner toward the Apparition Point he's already sweating, even with his long hair tied back in a loose bun. The Owl Office is thankfully pleasantly cool once he steps inside, no doubt the work of several, powerful Cooling Charms.

Regulus walks over to one of the nearest barn owls and ties the letter to its leg, dropping a few coins in the pouch all owls meant for public use carry with them, then bids the shopkeeper goodbye and walks back out in the July heat.

He makes a stop at Gringotts to withdraw some more money from his vault and exchange some of it to Romanian Muggle currency, then wanders around for a bit in search of a good birthday present for Harry. After a lot of debating, he goes for a charmed, kid-friendly necklace that will protect his son from minor hexes and curses, as well as some new coloring books, a set of Gobstones and some candy.

When that's done, Regulus returns home, to the sight of Sirius spinning a giggling Harry around the living room while Remus watches them in amusement from the sofa. It brings a warm flutter in his heart and he smiles fondly at the scene.

A day later Andromeda owls back to accept the invitation, so Regulus and Sirius start preparing for the party in earnest. Tilly is in charge of anything food related, while the Black brothers take care of decorations, and magically expand both bedrooms enough to create space for the two families that will be visiting.

Both Narcissa and Andromeda decide to arrive on the 31st exactly, and while Cissa said they'd only stay for the weekend (meaning they'll leave on Monday morning), Andromeda promised they'd stay for the rest of the following week as well, since Ted has secured enough paid leave to manage it.

The day of Harry's birthday comes with a beautiful blue sky devoid of clouds, and scorching heat. Regulus makes his son pancakes in the morning and plays with him in the living room before the other two men of the house wake up. Harry babbles at Sirius and Remus as they eat their own breakfast while Regulus runs around the house for any last minute preparations.

Noon brings with it the arrival of their guests. The Malfoys are the first to knock on the door, and Regulus greets Narcissa with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Lucius nods at him and shakes his hand before, surprisingly, going to hunt Sirius down for another debate.

"Do I wanna know?" Regulus asks Narcissa quietly after their sons have been safely deposited on the carpet to play, watching the two unlikely men talking animatedly.

"Apparently my husband enjoys debating with people who possess both the intelligence and the daring to challenge him," is Narcissa's amused reply.

"And I take it he doesn't have that many friends to provide that?"

His cousin's long look is enough to make him laugh and shake his head at the rather stupid question.

Not long after the Malfoys' arrival, the Tonkses come knocking on their door as well. Regulus shakes hands with Ted and greets him politely before his attention is stolen by Andromeda. He jumps into her arms, holding her tight and trying to keep his tears at bay. Today is about joy and celebration, not tears and nostalgia.

"I was hoping you'd grown taller, Reggie," Andromeda teases and Regulus pulls away with a watery smile.

"You've always been unfairly tall anyway."

"Mom, can I give uncle Regulus the present? My arms hurt," a grumpy voice complains and Regulus turns to see a small girl with blue hair and brown eyes scowling at Andromeda.

"None of that uncle stuff. I'm Regulus, Reg or Reggie to you. And yes, you can give that here and join your cousins in the living room if you want. Our House-Elf, Tilly, can bring you snacks or drinks, just call her."

"Nice to meet you, Regulus. Bye," the girl pushes the wrapped present into his hands then dashes towards the living room and plops down on the carpet next to Harry and Draco.

"I swear that girl has no decorum, she refuses to listen to a single thing I teach her," Andromeda shakes her head but Regulus can tell it's more fond than cross and Regulus thinks he is definitely going to like his second cousin very much; Sirius certainly will.

Regulus leads Andromeda to the living room as well, and leaves her with Narcissa while he checks if Tilly needs any help with anything in the kitchen before joining them again. The kids seem to be getting along like a house on fire, and he watches in fond amusement as Nymphadora changes different parts of her features before urging Harry to try and copy her.

The adults migrate to the dining table after some time, bringing the kids along when it's time for lunch then cake. Harry has a huge smile on his face while they all sing the 'Happy Birthday' song and gleefully blows out the two candles on the cake. Sirius takes picture after picture of the moment while Regulus doesn't even bother to hide the tears in his eyes as he watches his little boy.

Andromeda and Narcissa wrap their arms around him on either side, and he leans against them, bursting into laughter along with everybody else when Harry squeals and puts his fist right through the cake.

The rest of the day is filled with chatter from the adults, excited noise from the playing children, and so much love and happiness that Regulus thinks he might drown in it. When he puts Harry to bed in his crib and finally retires for the night, he's sure that July, 31st 1982 is the best day of his life up until that point.

The days following Harry's birthday are filled with laughter and good mood, as the children revel in the company of each other while the adults savor the time spent together after so many years apart, the Black cousins in particular.

Regulus doesn't remember laughing and smiling quite so much, if he's being honest. He's been doing that a lot more since getting Harry, and then after Sirius joined them, but having both of them and Cissa and Andy under the same roof? Nothing could ever beat that, Regulus is sure of it.

Unfortunately, the Malfoys have to leave on Sunday night, catching a late Portkey back to the Isles.

"And don't forget to use the mirror more often, Regulus. I think I've talked to Sirius more than you in the past few months," Narcissa chides him with an amused smile.

"Yes, mother," Regulus responds dryly then leans in to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Travel safely and I'll see you all soon, hopefully."

"Thank you for having us, Regulus," Lucius adds, a small smile on his usually guarded face as well. Regulus smiles back at the man.

"Bye, Draco, be good for your parents," Regulus tells the little blonde boy after kissing his forehead, and the sleepy child waves vaguely at him in response, making him chuckle.

The rest of the household and the Tonkses say their goodbyes to the Malfoy family in turn, then they're gone, leaving Regulus alone in front of the door.

"Daddy?" Harry's voice draws his attention and he turns to watch his child clutching his dragon plushie in the doorway, rubbing his eyes insistently.

"Yes, emerald?"

"Can you tell me a story now? I'm tired."

Regulus softens and bends down to pick up his son.

"Of course, love. Do you want to sleep with me tonight?"

"Yes, please," Harry murmurs, leaning his head on Regulus' shoulder while he carries him to their bedroom. He mouths a 'good-night' to his brother and cousin who are still lingering in the living room, and they nod, then he enters the bedroom and closes the door softly.

"How about The Tale of The Three Brothers tonight, hm? I know you love that one," he asks the sleepy child after he's climbed into bed and settled them both snuggly underneath the covers.

"Yeah," comes the reply, slightly muffled by the blanket raised to the boy's chin.

"There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight —" Regulus begins, slowly losing himself in the familiar story and rubbing Harry's back with his free hand. Before he knows it, his son is peacefully snoring and he stretches to put the book on his bedside table, shutting off the lamp and settling in bed as well, his arms wrapped around his son.

Between one breath and the next, he's fast asleep as well.

"Reggie, can Harry and I go with Sirius to the park? I'm bored and I don't want to leave Harry at home," Nymphadora asks the next day at breakfast, squirming in her seat in her excitement though trying to tamp it down under her mother's watchful eyes.

Regulus looks at Harry, who's gazing at him with the widest eyes he's ever seen - as blue as the sky outside today - and he gives the children an amused smile.

"Very well. But you know this means you have to keep an eye on him, right?"

It's not really true, since Sirius is the adult who's going to be watching the *both* of them, but Andromeda told him it's good to give kids things to be responsible for early on, to teach them a little bit of independence and, of course, responsibility. Giving the young girl the illusion of it by putting her in "charge" of watching over her cousin is a good way to do that.

"Yes, of course! I won't take my eyes off him," Nymphadora nods vigorously, her short but wild hair flying in all directions as she does so.

Andromeda gives him a subtle nod and Regulus smiles, pleased to have handled that well. It's still a bit more until Harry is truly old enough to understand such interactions and to be expected to act accordingly, but it's nice to have some practice now with Andy's daughter.

"Will you join them, Remus?" Regulus asks the man (his future brother-in-law he supposes, with the way things are going between him and Sirius), taking another sip of his tea.

"Yes, Sirius can use all the help he can get, keeping those two in line," Remus laughs and ducks to avoid Sirius' playful swipe at his head.

"Won't you go with them, Ted? You need some fresh air after so many night shifts at St. Mungo's," Andromeda adds and her husband nods, accepting the veiled order to get out of the house and leave her alone with her cousin.

Regulus sees it for what it is and he smiles to himself, avoiding Andy's raised eyebrow that seems to be challenging him to comment on it.

Soon, the kids and their three chaperones are out of the door, and quiet settles over the house in their wake.

"So, how have you really been, Reggie? And don't think that just because I understand your reasoning, and even agree with it, that I've forgiven you for leaving me out of the loop while keeping in contact with Narcissa," her gaze is so sharp it reminds him of Bellatrix, as rare as that happens.

Regulus sighs and sits down on the sofa next to her, staring at the ceiling.

"There are no words to express how sorry I am, Andy. Narcissa wouldn't have known if it wasn't for her noticing Tilly missing when she needed her for something, and she more or less forced me to take the two-way mirror and use it to talk to her.

"As for Yule, Sirius contacted you as well, so you can't blame me for only having Cissa over that time."

"Hmm, okay. But you still haven't answered my question."

"I'm...okay," Regulus replies, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "Having Harry in my life is both harder and easier than I thought it would be. He helps with a lot of things, I don't spiral into dark thoughts as often and I take better care of myself because I have to, for him. But now I have other insecurities and things to worry about, such as whether I'm the best choice for a parent, if I'm raising him right, if I'm being strict enough, if I'm being loving enough."

He stops seeing the white of the ceiling midway through his response, instead being lost in his thoughts, so much so that he barely notices when Andromeda slips her hand in his and grasps it softly.

"And I'm terrified of being alone, much more than I ever was. I see Sirius and Remus together and I know they'll want to move out eventually, have their own space away from me and Harry. I know it's pathetic, I'm an adult for Merlin's sake, but I don't want to be alone again. I can't do it, raising Harry, keeping myself healthy, avoiding spiraling into depression again, all of it on my own.

"It's been worse since I almost died in that lake. The oppressing darkness coiling in around me, the coldness of the water and the Inferi reaching me, the knowledge that I was all alone and no one would know what happened to me, that my family would think I died a Death Eater in that monster's service... it shook something in me, and I managed to ignore it for those few months until Sirius came here, but now that I have him back I don't think I could take being alone again, not so soon."

His breath rattles in his lungs after he's done speaking, and he finally registers Andromeda's soft hand holding his, rubbing soothing circles into his thumb. He turns his head towards her, still leaning it against the sofa, and she's watching him with worried eyes.

"Have you told Sirius any of this?" He wants to scoff but she cuts him off. "No, listen to me, Regulus. You need to have this conversation with your brother. You're not okay and he deserves to know it, he deserves the chance to make it better and to take your feelings and thoughts into consideration if he ever does want to move out. You need to stop thinking you're back in that house, a helpless 14 year old boy who can't pluck up the courage to stand up for himself or talk to his brother. Communicate with him. It'll do you both a lot of good, trust me.

"And to get back to your earlier point about being an adult: Regulus, you may be 20 years old and a parent, but you're still so young, love. You're not a child anymore, true, but you're barely out of your teens. You're a glorified teenager, honey. You're allowed to be scared and insecure and to need help. Circe knows I'm still all those things and I'm way older than you."

Regulus doesn't say anything for a long time, his eyes tracing her features, from her hazel eyes to her chocolate brown curls, her strong jaw and her thin lips. He knows everyone sees Bellatrix when they look at her, but Regulus has always thought Andromeda was much more beautiful, her kindness shining through her warm smile and her crinkled eyes.

"You're right," Regulus sighs quietly after a while. "I'll talk to him soon."

It's the most he can say right now. He fears he might start crying if they don't move on from the subject soon, and he doesn't want to cry in another cousin's arms. He hates himself for crying so easily, for being weak and soft, like Walburga always screamed at him between bouts of the Cruciatus when she tried to toughen him up. 'How will you kill mudbloods and blood traitors in the name of your Lord when you can't go three seconds without crying?' she used to yell, mocking him and making him cry even harder.

"Let me tell you about my Mastery in Transfiguration," Andromeda's voice brings him back to the present, and he is grateful for her attempt to distract him. He nods at her and lets her talk, allowing her voice to wash over him and drive away thoughts of his mother.

By the time the kids are back with Remus, Sirius and Ted, you can't even tell that he almost had another breakdown earlier. Regulus sends Andromeda a smile before redirecting his attention to Harry and Nymphadora's babbling about their day at the park.

The next day Regulus has the perfect opportunity to talk to Sirius when Remus goes shopping with Ted and Andy since they're not very familiar with Bucharest, and the kids are busy watching TV.

He looks at Sirius for about 15 minutes, trying to gather the courage to pull him aside and tell him what's been bothering him, but the words stubbornly refuse to go past the lump in his throat. His arms remain limply by his sides, hands trembling slightly, and his heart jumps in anxiety every time he's about to say something.

Harry calling for him to ask if he's bringing him apple juice any time soon or if he should ask Tilly instead quite literally saves him, so Regulus hurries to the fridge to take out the carton of juice and pour the kids two glasses.

Nymphadora, who has insisted he call her Tonks instead because she hates her first time, bullies him into watching TV with them so that he can translate. Like the coward that he is, Regulus eagerly sits down on the couch and provides a running commentary for his first cousin once removed.

After the show is done, the rest of the adults come back home and sadly there isn't any other opportunity to talk, Andromeda, okay? He tried!

Thus, Regulus finds more and more things to keep him busy, taking any and every opportunity not to be left alone with Sirius for long periods of time so that he doesn't fixate on the need to have that conversation and also to provide a good excuse for when Andromeda inevitably corners him and demands to know why they haven't talked yet.

So really, it's no wonder that three days later Sirius catches on that something's wrong, and he corners Regulus early in the morning before anyone's gotten out of bed.

"Alright, that's enough. Spit it out," Sirius says, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at him.

"I'm sorry?" Regulus chokes on his coffee, acting like he has no idea what's going on. Judging by the raised eyebrow he gets in return it doesn't quite work.

"You're excused. Now please tell me what I did to upset you so I can fix it and move on cause I'm not a Legilimens, Regulus, I can't pluck it out of your brain."

Oh, he's worried worried if he's calling him Regulus instead of the thousand nicknames he's come up with over the years.

"And before you deny it, Andy hinted that you might be approaching me for a serious conversation and to take you seriously, but you haven't done it yet. So? What is it?"

Sirius is looking him in the eye, gaze unwavering, posture straight and serious. Not seeing a way out of it, and being half grateful he's not the one who has to bring it up first, Regulus opens his mouth to tell him.

Only for that same lump to form in his throat, and he can't get any words past it. He thinks of different ways to phrase it, and tries to speak, but he feels like someone is holding his throat and squeezing the words back in. It's frustrating and embarrassing, and before he knows it tears are leaking out of his eyes. And that only frustrates him even more.

"Reg? Come on, love, let's sit down and you can tell me when you're ready, I'm not forcing you," Sirius' calm and gentle voice comes like a warm blanket as it settles over him and tears him away from his inner turmoil for long enough to look into his warm eyes and nod wordlessly, following him into the living room and taking a seat on the sofa.

Sirius pulls him down until he's lying with his head in his brother's lap. Regulus can feel his long fingers carding through his hair softly, humming under his breath what Regulus thinks might be Stairway to Heaven.

Regulus turns his head to look out at the living room as his brother's touch calms him down. It brings about a fresh wave of tears, this time happy ones tinged with nostalgia, as he remembers Sirius doing the same thing to him when he was younger and panicking because of their parents, or because of Bellatrix's cruel words and hexes aimed at him during bigger Family Dinners.

Finally, after Sirius has started on another song he doesn't recognize this time, Regulus finds the strength to push against that stubborn lump and force the words out.

"I talked to Andy a few days ago... about how I'm doing, and you came up." Sirius' fingers still for a second before resuming their motions once more. "I told her that I think you and Remus are going to move out soon and I don't want to be all alone again," he confesses quietly, heart in his throat.

"And why do you think that, love?" comes Sirius' equally quiet question.

"Well, you're clearly getting closer by the day, and you'll want your own place, right? You're not gonna want to share the same house with a toddler and your weird, loner of a brother indefinitely," Regulus scoffs.

Sirius hums to show he heard him, but continues to card through his hair for the next minute or so, seemingly thinking it over, or so Regulus hopes. Finally, his brother speaks again.

"Did you know my therapist said I have a fear of losing people now?" he says as a non sequitur. Regulus furrows his brows in confusion but lets him continue. "I had a few sessions after Azkaban, before I came here, they were mandatory. And she said that losing James, Lily, and Harry in one night, as a by-product of trusting a third friend who left me as well, even if by different means, has made me overprotective of the people I have left and a little more than obsessed with being close to them, having them in my line of sight.

"The day I went to Budapest to meet Remus I was on edge until I came home and saw you and Harry on this sofa. And when you and Harry went to Lyon I couldn't stay still until you were back home. Remus had to give me three Calming Draughts until I relaxed."

"I... didn't know that," is all Regulus can say.

"Hmm, I know. Because I didn't tell anyone except for Remus. But, to get to where I'm going with this, I'm not moving out any time soon, and Remus knows this and doesn't object. Where you and Harry are, I am. I've already lost both of you, twice. Once when you almost died - and I didn't even know about you at the time - and once when I wasn't there for you - either by leaving Grimmauld Place at 15 or getting thrown into Azkaban last year.

"Either way, I'm not going anywhere unless you're coming with me."

Regulus carefully sits up, making sure not to headbutt his brother, and turns to look at him, a wobbly smile on his face. Sirius looks back, anguish in his eyes and a bitter smile on his lips.

"Now please tell me what else is bothering you. I have Remus to cry to when it gets too much but you're not talking to anyone. And I didn't push you because I thought maybe you were talking to Narcissa, but it's obvious you aren't so spill."

So Regulus does. He pours his heart out (and more tears), and tells him about the horror of the Lake, the nightmares he still has regularly, his fear of abandonment, as well as his insecurities regarding Harry. He tells him how lost he feels, finding himself out of the Dark Lord's service, with said Lord gone for the moment, and with a child to take care of and his brother and cousins back in his life, but he's only 20 years old and he doesn't know what he's supposed to do.

Sirius listens when Regulus admits, embarrassed, that he's never even gone further than kissing and some groping with Barty Crouch Jr. in his sixth year, but he's so lonely so he craves intimacy even if he's terrified of opening himself up to someone, of leaving himself vulnerable. How he hates himself for being so weak and pathetic, how he fears the day Harry starts asking questions about his parents and the one who killed them and finds out his Daddy was one of the people who followed his parents' murderer.

When he's finally done he feels drained and exhausted to the bone, and Sirius pulls him close to him, rubbing his back and kissing his hair, murmuring nonsense which shouldn't make him feel as good as it does at his age.

"I love you so much, Reggie. Thank you for telling me that. You're stronger than you think and you're an amazing person, okay? I know you don't believe me, but you will. I'll tell you every day until you're sick of it, until you dream it and hear it in your head every time you want to say something mean about yourself.

"Amd come on, that kid loves you more than me, and there's nothing on this earth, and I mean nothing, that will make him hate you. You're a good parent already, but whenever you falter, I'll be there to help you. Remus will be there. Andy and Cissa and Ted and hell, even Lucius, will be there to help you. You're not alone and you never will be.

"To go through all that you have at your age, and still wake up every day and make that kid meals, change his nappies, tell him stories, play with him, make him smile and laugh? That's real strength, love. We're all going to love you so much there won't be any space for self hatred in this brain of yours, and when you feel ready for a relationship, I'll be your wingman and take you out to meet people, don't you worry about that."

Regulus laughs, feeling warmer and lighter than he's felt in a long time.

"Thank you, Siri."

"That's what I'm here for, kiddo. And if you wake up from a nightmare again, wake me up. Remus sleeps like the dead so you're not bothering him, and I'll always be ready to talk it out with you or at least keep you busy until it leaves your head and you can go back to sleep. You don't have to go through it alone."

Regulus nods again. He knows it's not that easy, reaching out, asking for help, when all he's known in the past decade was "keep it inside, deal with it later when they can't see or hear you, ignore it, keep moving". But he swears he's going to try, and he thinks he owes Sirius to trust him to be there and not leave, if Sirius can trust him to do the same.

"Now let's make some breakfast before the rest wake up. Tonks placed an order of bangers and mash and I don't want to see her upset with me," Sirius chuckles, patting his knee and getting up from the sofa. Regulus laughs and follows him, thinking of what to make Harry for breakfast today.

"Can't sleep?"

Sirius' eyes are glued to the ceiling, eyes burning from exhaustion but mind unwilling to shut off and let him go to sleep. Remus touches his shoulder gently, softly, slowly, as not to startle him because he learned from the first night they slept in the same bed and Sirius accidentally punched him in the face before falling off the bed in fright. He apologized and Remus waved him off, saying that he remembered how Sirius had been in their teens about unexpected touches and he should have known that after Azkaban the innate fright would have returned, but Sirius still feels bad about it.

"Brain won't shut up," Sirius whispers and wraps his arm around Remus when the man lays his head down on his chest. Remus' palm resting on his stomach warms him up and he tightens his arm around his lover.

"Do you want me to get you a Dreamless Sleep from the bathroom?"

"No, I'll fall asleep eventually. Don't worry about me, moon, get your rest."

And this is another thing he feels bad about. Keeping Remus up every few nights with his tossing and turning and inability to fall asleep. Remus shouldn't suffer because his brain is fucked.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Remus says lightly, poking him in the ribs. "Now tell me what's on your mind."

Sirius shuts his eyes tight enough to make stars explode behind his eyelids for a second before opening them back up and staring at the same dark ceiling. He sighs.

"I talked to Regulus this morning. I finally got him to tell me what's been bothering him, and Remus... it hurts to see him so insecure and lonely. And it hurts because I know I contributed to that. I broke his trust when I left him, when I stopped talking to him, when I fucking abandoned him in that house of horrors. I never even tried to get him out. And now, years later, he's still terrified of being left behind. I fucking gave him abandonment issues, Remus!"

Sirius' eyes sting and he glares into the darkness, refusing to let the tears fall. He has no right to cry about it now. Where was he when his little brother was getting abused by their parents? Where was he when Regulus was getting the thrice-damned Dark Mark or when he was drowning in a lake full of Inferi, defying the fucking Dark Lord and being a thousand times braver than Sirius would ever be. Where was he?

"We may have forgiven each other for our mistakes, him more than me because in the end I don't have anything to forgive him. But this type of thing isn't forgotten. Our relationship will never be the same, me leaving him and ignoring him will always stand between us. And I don't care about it from my perspective because I deserve everything that's coming to me for letting Regulus down like that, but it's clearly causing him pain, not trusting me enough or being too insecure to talk to me about his problems.

"He's got no one to talk to, no one to hold him and comfort him like you're doing to me and I've fucked it all up years ago that he can't even have me."

His chest is heaving, heart hurting so badly he can physically feel it.

Remus sighs quietly and props himself up, straddling him and bowing down until their faces are inches apart. Sirius can see the outline of his scars and the slight glowing of his eyes even in the darkness.

"It's true that you fucked up, Sirius, I'm not going to deny it to comfort you. But you were just as much a kid as he was, a kid desperate to escape a bad situation, stupid enough to believe that the same parents who abused him for years wouldn't turn around and do the same thing to their remaining child. And yes, Regulus is suffering now because of it, but he has forgiven you, and he did confide in you today, no matter how much work it was to get him to talk.

"So what you're going to do is respect his decision and his strength to overcome his insecurities, and work your ass off to gain his trust again to the point where he won't think twice about coming to you next time, okay? Your relationship may be forever changed by your actions in your teens, but it doesn't mean it's never going to be strong again. It'll take time and effort and patience, but if you want it, stop feeling sorry for yourself and start working on it."

Sirius looks into those fierce, determined eyes contrasted by the soft smile on Remus' face. He can't believe how lucky he is to have this storm of a man wrapped in layers of kindness and tenderness, cardigans and way too sweet tea, but he's eternally grateful for it.

"Alright," Sirius rasps, clearing his throat and wetting his dry lips. "Thank you, love."

Remus' smile widens and his eyes soften. He closes the short gap between their faces and presses their lips together sweetly, before kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek and his forehead.

"You're not as bad as you like to make yourself out to be, Sirius. You're literally your own worst critic. Give yourself, and the people around you, a bit more credit and stop acting like you're the root of all evil in the world. Forgive yourself."

Sirius inhales sharply and feels himself shuddering on the exhale, and he has to bury his face in Remus' neck when he finally feels those tears falling. He grips Remus' shirt tightly, his lover petting his hair with so much gentleness it hurts.

Remus pulls away slightly, far enough away to pry Sirius' hands away from his shirt and lace them with his own instead, holding them tenderly and rubbing his thumb along Sirius' in a soothing motion.

Even in the dark of the room, a sliver of light coming from the street outside falls right where his right hand is joined with Remus' and he watches the motion, transfixed. These hands, permanently smelling of cigarette smoke, calloused from years of playing on the Quidditch Team, scarred from Azkaban, hands he used to curse Death Eaters and bully a fellow student for years just because he wanted to take it out on someone when his parents weren't an option, the hands which pressed a blade against his wrist or throat so many times but never felt brave enough to break skin. Held so gently like they're the most precious part of him.

"I love you, Sirius. So much. And I hope one day you'll love yourself as well. Until then, I'll do my best to get you to tolerate yourself," Remus whispers.

Sirius nods, throat tight, and pulls him down for a deeper kiss this time, his tears falling down to their joined lips. It's messy and awkward in the dark and so far from perfect, but in this moment it's the best kiss he's ever had.

"I love you, too," Sirius replies after they pull apart once more, willing Remus to feel and understand just how much. How grateful he is for his patience, his understanding, his lack of judgment and scorn.

Remus moves away from his lap and settles back in their previous position, head on his chest, arm over his stomach and Sirius turns his head away from the ceiling, tucking his face against the top of the other man's head and kissing his hair.

He shuts his eyes and breathes slowly, listening to the steady breathing of his lover, focusing on the rise and fall of his body.

When he falls asleep a few minutes later, he doesn't dream but the real warmth of Remus' body against his own is better than any dream could ever be anyway.

The clock is ticking. Regulus can hear it, a constant, rhythmical sound that beats in time with his heart. The perpetual tick tock tick tock tick tock is rattling in his brain, beating on his eardrums, and it's annoying and distracting in the absolute silence and stillness of the night but it's distracting his thoughts so he doesn't silence it with his wand.

He is alone in the bedroom tonight. The Tonkses are leaving tomorrow - Ted has been called back a few days early because the colleague that was covering his shifts has fallen ill and St. Mungo's is understaffed with a bout of Wizard's Flu making the rounds in Britain - so Harry wanted to sleep with Tonks for their final night together.

Harry's nightlight is the only light in the room, weak and soft as it is, and it's casting barely there shadows where it hits objects in the bedroom. Regulus doesn't really need it to see shadows in the dark, his mind is happy enough to provide them for him without aid.

He huffs, feeling frustrated with his head for refusing to shut off and let him go to sleep. He doesn't feel tired, not really, because he's always felt more comfortable in the dark, in the comfort of the night. No shouting, no cursing, no hiding from his parents during the night. No, the night was his and his alone, his moment of respite where he could be himself, with all his jagged edges on display, the fear of being perceived as weak absent for once.

His talk with Sirius this morning has shaken something loose in him, broken a piece of the dam he's built between his shadows - trauma, he knows he should call it what it is, but he can't, because traumatized people are weak and broken and useless, his Mother whispers in his ear - and the rest of his self for the sake of living. He wouldn't have been able to survive, to keep moving, to keep breathing, if he hadn't built that dam. Which is unhealthy as all fuck, but in the absence of healing, covering it up and pushing it as far away as it will go is the only solution.

But now it's starting to crumble, to chip off, and some of the darkness is flowing, trickling slowly but surely, and surfacing.

Regulus feels anxious but about what he doesn't know. It's a primal sort of anxiety, abstract in the way that it's not related to anything tangible, but rather the idea that something will or could happen, the foreboding feeling that something is coming. But what?

His undoing, most likely. It's terribly fatalistic, and overly dramatic, and utterly nonsensical, Regulus knows. But when has his mind ever been rational when it concerns his feelings?

He's happy he talked to Sirius. He's overjoyed they spoke about the things that have been circling his mind for years, and especially these past few months since they've been living together. He is. But he also hates it, hates himself for opening up, for setting himself up to be disappointed, to be abandoned all over again. He hates Sirius for giving him hope that this time he'll stay, that he won't leave him alone to rot, hates him for sounding so sincere and determined about his love for him and his desire to make him better.

Regulus can't be bettered. This is all he is. Twenty years old and thoroughly fucked up. Pain, suffering, anxiety, self-hatred - this is all he's ever known, all he's ever had. When you go through all of this, have all of this as your constant companions and your normal emotions throughout your formative years, how can you ever be something else once you're out of them? When your entire sense of self is built around these things? Who even is Regulus Arcturus Black without any of it? He doesn't know what it's like to look in the mirror and see someone worth loving, worth fighting for, worth staying for. He's a pretty face with enough darkness - trauma - in his head to give a Dementor a run for its money.

The clock keeps ticking. Regulus finally snaps and sends a hex at it, shattering the thing in a million little pieces, and it's finally silent. It wasn't doing a very good job of keeping the shadows at bay anyway.

A creaking floorboard outside of his bedroom reaches his ears and Regulus sits up in bed, eyes zeroed in on his door, ears straining to hear better. A second later there comes a soft knock then the door is pushed open and in slips a figure. Andromeda.

"I heard noise when I was getting a glass of water," she explains without him having to voice a question. "What's up, Reg?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep, Andy, you have to be up early tomorrow," Regulus sighs, weary. He doesn't have the energy for another soul bearing session.

"That's bullshit and you know it. But I can see you're not in the mood to talk so here," she says and hands him a vial. Regulus doesn't need to see its color to know it's Dreamless Sleep. "You're taking this and then you're lying down in bed and going to sleep while I cuddle you from behind like we did when we were kids. Now chop chop."

Unbidden, a smile stretches his lips and he takes the vial, uncorking it and swallowing it down. He lies down slowly and turns his back on his cousin. Andromeda climbs into bed, and Regulus feels the bed dipping under her weight, hears the springs creaking as she turns around, and then her arms are circling him, her face in the crook of his neck. He can feel her hot breath on his skin, the warmth of her body seeping into his own, and he relaxes. It feels good, it feels familiar.

"I love you, Regulus. Please don't keep it all inside, it will eat you up. Don't let that scared little boy from Grimmauld Place down by giving up now. Look how far you've come, this is worth fighting for," she whispers and her words seem to have so much more weight in the dead of night, hitting Regulus like a punch to the ribs.

He exhales, breath shallow and shaky, feels tears stinging his eyes, and he grips Andromeda's hands resting on his stomach.

"I'll try. It's hard," he admits, voice breaking. "It's so hard, Andy."

"I know it is. But you're not alone, Regulus. All of us are here to help you and lift you back up when you need it. So do it for yourself, you deserve to finally be free of that wretched place and those horrible people. Don't let them win, don't give them the satisfaction of having broken you. Don't give them more of you than they've already stolen."

The tears spill down his cheeks and Regulus sobs quietly, his whole body shaking. Andromeda holds him tighter and kisses his nape, more of a mother to him than Walburga Black ever was, and he loves her so much for it.

Andromeda hums under her breath as he cries, a song he doesn't know the name of, has never known the name of, but it's familiar and it soothes something in his chest. The dam crumbles a bit more the longer she keeps going, but Regulus thinks it might be alright. He has people to stand by his side once it breaks completely, a small part of him believes. But even if it's small, Regulus knows it's enough, it's more than what he had ten minutes ago.

When the Dreamless Sleep kicks it, Regulus falls asleep with tears flowing down his cheeks and Andromeda's humming in his ear.

And in another room, unbeknownst to Regulus, another damaged son of the House of Black falls asleep in the embrace of someone he loves, battling similar but somehow different shadows. He doesn't dream either, but not because of a potion. For Sirius, his lover is enough to chase dreams and nightmares alike. One day, maybe Regulus will have that too. Until then, the fierce Andromeda Tonks née Black will hold him and sing him to sleep.

The Tonks family leaves the next day in a whirlwind of chaos, Tonks rushing around the house to pick clothes and toys left scattered around, Andromeda scolding her for being careless with her things, Harry sulking that his favorite cousin is leaving and Regulus and Sirius trying to soothe the boy.

A few tears are shed once the time to say goodbye comes, and Andromeda hugs them all, pinching Harry's chubby cheeks with a motherly tenderness that finally stops the waterworks, kissing Sirius and Remus' cheeks and Regulus' forehead before they depart.

A pang of sadness pierces his heart when the door closes and silence settles over the house once more, but Regulus knows he'll see them again. Sirius ruffles his hair and smiles at him and he thinks he'll be just fine; he's not alone after all.

Time, as it's wont to do, continues to pass, unconcerned with the wants of mortals. August bleeds into September, bringing shorter days and rain and wind. Harry keeps growing, talking more and more even if he still struggles to voice his thoughts sometimes. The frustration of a limited vocabulary manifests in many an accidental magic display, curtains turning obnoxious colors, plates sticking to the ceiling, and Sirius' eyebrows turning orange on one memorable occasion when he teased Harry about something.

Remus finds a job at a library a few streets away, claiming he's getting restless with sitting around the house doing nothing all day, and Sirius somehow charms the manager into hiring him at the reception desk because he doesn't want to have Remus have all the fun.

Regulus spends his days with Harry following him around the house like a puppy, playing with him and slowly teaching him the basics like colors, shapes, and animals. Harry is a bright child for his age, soaking up information like a sponge, always eager to learn something new. The little boy adores being showered in Regulus' attention, glowing and preening at every word of praise, and trying twice as hard with the next bit of knowledge just to hear Regulus' pride again.

Of course, Regulus would give it freely no matter what. His son could be a complete dunderhead and he'd still think the sun rises every morning for his son's benefit. But it doesn't hurt that Harry's unconditional love and admiration for him encourages the boy to better himself.

When Halloween rolls around, a somber mood falls on their household. Even Harry is quieter, more subdued, as if he feels it's a sad day for everybody, nevermind that he doesn't actually know what day it is.

"I don't want to upset him," Regulus tells Sirius on the morning of October 31st. "Maybe next year we can tell him exactly what happened. What do you think?"

"I agree," Sirius nods sadly. "It's enough he's picked up on our moods already. Let him have this year without the burden of that knowledge."

So they don't tell Harry what today signifies, and try to keep the atmosphere as cheerful as possible. Even though Romanians don't celebrate Muggle Halloween like Americans and Britons do, Harry still wants to dress up for the occasion so they put him in a costume and let him knock on their bedroom doors to 'trick-or-treat' and give him candy. It's silly but Harry loves it and Regulus basks in the warmth of his smile and the force of his delight.

November marks a year since Regulus kidnapped Harry from Surrey, and it feels appropriate that he finally hunts down a therapist and starts to work on his issues. Dr. Popovici is a squib with a Psychology Degree in the Muggle world, and she gladly accepts him as a patient.

It's slow going and frustrating, and more than a little painful to drag all of his bad memories and feelings to the surface to be dissected. For the first few weeks his mood always plummets after his visits to the therapist's office, leaving him prickly and sensitive. Remus and Sirius understand that it's not personal and just a part of his healing, so they give him space when he needs it, don't take his barbed words to heart, and look after Harry when he can't bring himself to get out of bed.

Harry, bless his beautiful heart, seems to understand what's going on with his Daddy and never throws tantrums on those days. He climbs into bed with him when Regulus is buried under the blankets, and cuddles him while he butchers the stories Regulus usually reads to him. Regulus appreciates it more than Harry could ever know.

After a bit of wheedling and a lot of gentle bullying, Sirius throws his hands in the air and agrees to see Dr. Popovici as well around December. Now that Regulus has gotten used to therapy sessions once a week, his moods settle into a new normal and he feels the draw of hiding in bed all day less and less. With Sirius' inception of therapy though, they switch places, and now it's his brother's turn to be unsettled and switch from mood to mood. Again, patience is key, and no one empathizes more than Regulus.

Little Harry seems to be the glue that keeps them all together, that prevents them from breaking into pieces, and it's never more apparent than when Sirius comes back from the balcony where he most likely chain-smoked for half an hour, tear tracks drying on his cheeks, and Harry rushes over to him, asking to be picked up.

Not one to deny his godson anything, not even in an emotionally wrecked state, Sirius complies. As soon as Harry's face is level with his godfather, the boy places his tiny hands on either side of Sirius' face and looks at him with all the seriousness a two year old is capable of.

"I love you, Padfoot. Don't be sad, I'm here now," the little boy says then kisses Sirius' cheek and Sirius laughs wetly. 

"Thank you, Prongslet. I love you too," Sirius says and kisses the crown of his head, holding the boy close. Regulus smiles at the display and knows they'll all be alright. Harry won't allow anything else, not on his watch.

Two weeks before Yule Narcissa tells them in no uncertain terms than they're taking a Portkey and spending the holiday at Malfoy Manor this year. She assures them she's called off the annual Malfoy Yule Party and that the wards on the Manor are strong enough to prevent anyone from even knowing they're there, let alone try and attack them.

After a bit of fretting and a lot of reassurances that it will be good to get out of the house for a while and that Harry needs to spend time with someone his own age again and certainly to see someone else aside from the same three faces all the time, Regulus agrees.

"It'll be fine, you'll see," Sirius assures for the thousandth time on the morning of their departure. Regulus is fidgeting, his body unable to sit still for long, and Harry clings to his hand as he dances around in excitement.

Regulus doesn't say anything to that, simply purses his lips and checks his watch again. When a voice announces their Portkey is leaving in twenty seconds, Regulus picks Harry up and places his hand on the battered poetry book that acts as their Portkey today, then they're off to Britain for the first time in over a year.

They appear in front of huge, wrought-iron gates, imposing and grand, clearly meant to project superiority, wealth, and to dissuade unwanted visitors from entering. Regulus, though he's never been at Malfoy Manor before, knows to put his hand over one of the bars. Magic buzzes under his skin and it feels like a chime sounds in the bristling wind of December before the gates swing open and admit them onto the grounds.

"Daddy, can you carry me?" Harry asks, shivering slightly. Regulus nods and scoops up the boy, drawing his own coat over the small figure of his son, making sure he's protected from the biting wind.

"Shall we then?" Sirius asks and Regulus nods.

They start the unnecessarily long walk from the gates to the Manor, gazing curiously at the woods surrounding either side of the road. As they draw closer, the woods cease, giving way to a carefully manicured garden, hedges trimmed to perfection even in winter. A muster of peacocks weaves in and out of hedges and Regulus eyes them incredulously; Lucius really is something else.

When he notices Harry getting that particular gleam in his eyes that signals mischief inbound, Regulus shifts the boy slightly and glares at one of the creatures that tries to get closer. He hears Sirius and Remus trying to stifle their laughter and he turns his glare on them, which only serves to send them into a fit of giggles.

"Children, I swear," Regulus mutters, shaking his head.

A few minutes later they're finally at the front door, which opens as soon as Regulus steps foot on the stairs facing it. A house elf welcomes them and takes their coats, telling them his Mistress is on her way to greet them.

No sooner has the elf disappeared with a pop than Narcissa sweeps into the receiving room and smiles broadly.

"Boys! So good to see you, welcome to Malfoy Manor," she comes closer and takes Harry from Regulus' arms without even asking. The boy squeals in happiness as she peppers his face in kisses and tells him how much she's missed him and how much he's grown since the last time she saw him. "Draco can't wait to see you, angel. Let's get you to the play room."

"Are you going to ask for my permission to take my son away any time this century or should I wait for the afterlife?" Regulus asks dryly, an amused smirk on his face.

"Nonsense, Reggie. I don't need to ask permission to carry my favorite nephew," Narcissa sniffs.

"He's your only nephew," Sirius points out but Narcissa doesn't dignify that with an answer.

"Follow me, gentlemen. Lucius is held up at the Ministry still, so it's just us until dinner."

The three of them fall in step behind Narcissa, who's carrying Harry with one arm, the other busy pointing out paintings of Malfoy ancestors long dead, and Harry hangs onto her every word, staring in wonder at the platinum blonde men and women gazing arrogantly at their group from within their frames.

"Here is the playroom," Narcissa announces when they reach a plain wooden door - plain by Malfoy standards at the very least. "Mipsy will be watching the boys so that we can relax in the parlor without worries."

"Is that okay, emerald? Daddy is just a call away if you need me, okay?" Regulus asks, wanting to be sure his son is alright with being left alone. The boy, whose hair has morphed into a perfect replica of Narcissa's, nods enthusiastically.

Narcissa opens the door and carries Harry inside. As soon as she places him back on the ground, he squeals and rushes over to greet Draco, and both boys engage in a heated conversation full of random noises of enthusiasm and lots of waving hands.

"Well, looks like they've got this. Let's go," Narcissa laughs fondly and Regulus sends his son one last look before following her to the parlor.

The room they enter next is spacious and elegant, just like the rest of the Manor. Unlike the outside of the building, the reception room and the hallways lined with sneering Malfoys, the parlor is warmer and more welcoming - Regulus can recognize Narcissa's touch in here.

Narcissa shows them to their seats, Sirius and Remus flopping down on a sofa while Regulus takes the armchair next to his cousin's. A tray laden with a pot of tea, cups, sugar bowls, milk and scones appears on the coffee table, and like the Lady that she was raised to be, Narcissa prepares their tea for them before leaning back in her seat and sipping her own cup.

"Are we done with the formalities now, Cissa?" Regulus snorts.

Narcissa glares at him playfully. "I see these two have been a terrible influence on you, Regulus dear. Where's the Pureblood Heir in you?"

"I left him in therapy, sorry."

Narcissa rolls her eyes, something she rarely allows herself to do, and certainly only in the presence of select company.

"Tell me, how have you three been?"

And they are off, talking about all the things they never mentioned over the mirror, talking amongst each other until the time for dinner arrives and with it the Lord of the house. Lucius slumps his shoulders and lets the arrogant prick mask fall off his face the moment he enters the parlor. Sirius greets him with a friendly thump on the back, Remus shakes his hand and Regulus nods in his direction. Narcissa embraces him and kisses his cheek, then steps back and gestures for them to head to the Dining Room while she fetches the boys.

Regulus itches to follow her, feeling weirdly uncomfortable with having Harry out of his sight for so long, but Sirius places a hand on his shoulder and steers him in the direction Lucius and Remus have disappeared with a knowing look.

"Codependency isn't healthy, Reg. If the elf didn't fetch you so far it means he's fine on his own. Trust me, you do not want to be the clingy one while the two year old is just fine," Sirius barks a laugh.

Regulus chuckles as well and lets himself be lead into the Dining Room even while his stomach lurches with anxiety. He takes a deep breath and lists random potions ingredients in his head until his fidgeting calms down and his racing heart slows.

"Daddy!" Harry exclaims and Regulus whips around and sees the little terror wiggling out of Narcissa's hold to rush over to him and jump into his arms. Regulus spins him around and kisses his cheek, smoothing his hair.

"Let's eat, love," he tells his beautiful son and Harry grins toothily at him, nodding. Regulus places him in a chair that he draws closer to himself, then when they're all seated, dinner begins.

Regulus feels at home dining with the Malfoys and his family, barely even noticing the passage of time. He only realizes they've lingered over their dessert for too long when the two children start yawning and rubbing their eyes, and Regulus decides to call it a night.

Narcissa shows them to their rooms, one for Sirius and Remus, one for Regulus and his little terror, and after bidding them all goodnight Regulus changes in his pajamas after doing the same to Harry, and settles both of them in the queen sized bed.

"Did you have fun with Draco, emerald?" Regulus asks quietly, running his fingers through Harry's hair.

His son nods, yawning again, blinking sleepily up at him.

"Missed Draco, even if he's annoying sometimes," Harry says honestly and Regulus snorts.

"That's good. Your Paddy annoys me sometimes too, but I still love him. Now, do you want a story or can we go to sleep?"

"Sing?" Harry asks hopefully. Regulus thinks about it then nods, propping his head on his left arm, lying on his side, as he strokes Harry's face gently in a soothing rhythm and starts to sing Andromeda's nameless song. Harry is out like a light before he even finishes the second verse.

Regulus smiles down at the little angel in his bed then flicks his wand to snuff out the light in the sconces on the walls and slides down in bed, holding his son close. This is everything he'll ever need, Regulus is sure of it now.

A few days after they arrive at Malfoy Manor, the Tonkses come over as well, at Narcissa's insistence that they have enough room to house them and it would be a hassle to keep Flooing back and forth between the two homes. Regulus is more than happy to see Andy and Ted again, and even little Tonks whose hair is slightly longer than a buzz cut and neon green this time.

"I'm Icarus now, Reggie," she said when she greeted him and Regulus had raised a curious eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"Sometimes I don't feel like a girl, and Tonks is my girl name, so when I feel like a boy I'm Icarus," Icarus told him seriously and Regulus had nodded.

"Very well, Icarus. Nice hair, by the way."

"Thank you!" Icarus had grinned happily and that was that.

Now it's the Winter Solstice which means the start of their Yule celebration. The entire family gather in the Dining Room and together they eat winter foods: the table is laden with cornbread, plum pudding, game stew, cranberry dressing, pots of buttered rum and so much more. Regulus watches his family sitting around the table, eating and talking to each other, the children trying to keep still and eat their food without upending the table, and his heart feels full.

Once they're done, the adults clear the table themselves and cover it with candles, placing a sun candle on a riser in the center and the other candles outwards. When that's done, the Potter-Lupin-Blacks, the Malfoys and the Tonkses stand in a circle in front of the table-cum-altar and recite together the first part of their festival: "The wheel of the year has turned once more, and the nights have grown longer and colder. Tonight, the darkness begins to retreat, and light begins its return once again. As the wheel continues to spin, the sun returns to us once more."

Regulus feels the magic gathering in the air as they utter the words, and although the windows are closed, a soft breeze ruffles his untied hair.

Lucius lights the sun candle then continues with, "Even in the darkest hours, even in the longest nights, the spark of life lingered on. Laying dormant, waiting, ready to return when the time was right. The darkness will leave us now, as the sun begins its journey home."

The magic builds and with it a warm embrace wraps around his body. Regulus feels the familiar warmth of Mother Magic herself, welcoming him back home. He'd expected a reproach about missing last year's celebration, but all he can feel in this moment is Her understanding and acceptance, knowing that despite being absent for a year his heart was always with Her and Her Gift.

When that is done, they light the candle closest to the one on the riser, working outward until all the rest are brightly lit. As they light each one, they say, "As the wheel turns, light returns. The light of the sun has returned to us, bringing life and warmth with it. The shadows will vanish, and life will continue. We are blessed by the light of the sun."

The room seems to grow brighter with their closing chant, the flames of the candles rising higher for a moment and chasing away any lingering shadows, bathing the Dining Room's every nook and cranny in bright light. A weight seems to be lifted off Regulus' shoulders, and he feels like the light is also chasing away the shadows in his heart.

With all the candles flickering merrily, they all stand back and watch them for a moment. As tradition dictates, they all should think about what the return of the sun means to each of them. Regulus thinks about love, and life, and protection. Thinks about the return of light into his life in the form of Harry and Sirius, Narcissa and Andromeda, Lucius and Remus and Ted, Icarus and Draco. He thinks about renewal and brightness and the opportunity for more, for growth and happiness and progress.

Once they all feel they're ready, the adults go around the expansive Manor lighting up all the wall sconces as the kids trail after them, stumbling over each other, yelling "Welcome back, sun!" with all the giddiness of children.

They return to the Dining Room and conjure sofas and armchairs, indulging in eggnog and cookies. They bask in the light of the candles for a time, talking to each other softly as if unwilling to disturb the peace of the moment. Regulus holds a sleepy Harry in his arms a few hours later, feeling warm and content as he watches Remus and Sirius snuggled together in a pouf, both of them looking blissful in each other's arms, or Ted holding Andromeda with Icarus sprawled across their legs on a sofa, or the Malfoy family cocooned in a loveseat near the fireplace.

When they're ready for bed, Lucius extinguishes the candles, starting from outside towards the center, leaving the sun candle for last.

Regulus watches the last flame go out and yawns deeply, then carries Harry back to their room, bidding the rest goodnight as they all scatter to their respective rooms.

"That was nice," Harry mumbles as Regulus changes his clothes into a sleeping onesie.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. This isn't what your parents celebrated but it is my religion," Regulus explains softly in the silence of their room.

"Can we do it again next year?"

"Yes, of course," Regulus smiles, pleasantly surprised his son is showing interest in his religion. He would never force Harry to do the rituals and celebrations if it's not what he wants or feels, but his heart warms at the thought that it's all voluntary already.

"Good," Harry says then snuggles into his pillow without closing his eyes as he waits for Regulus to join him. He changes into his own sleepwear then slips under the covers, pulling Harry close to his chest and closing his eyes as he takes in the warmth of his son.

After welcoming back the sun, they proceed with the burning of the Yule log. This year, they're using a pine log as it symbolizes their family's hope for a year of prosperity. As the Malfoys do every year, they all bundle up and go outside to the grounds in a sacred clearing the Family with French roots has used for generations for this exact purpose.

They light a fire and place the log in it before surrounding it in a circle. The adults all recite together, "The Wheel has turned once more, and the earth has gone to sleep. The leaves are gone, the crops have returned to the ground. On this darkest of nights, we celebrate the light. Tomorrow, the sun will return, its journey continuing as it always does. Welcome back, warmth. Welcome back, light. Welcome back, life."

As they do, they all move clockwise around the burning log until they're each back in their place from the beginning of the chanting. This is the moment when the three children join with their own carefully learned part, Icarus doing most of the job as Harry and Draco stumble over their words every now and again.

Regulus watches them with a fond smile as they all say, "Shadows go away, darkness is no more, as the light of the sun comes back to us. Warm the earth. Warm the ground. Warm the sky. Warm our hearts. Welcome back, sun."

"Now, we take turns saying something we're grateful for about our family," Narcissa announces for the benefit of the children. "I'll go first: I'm proud Draco is a good son who obeys my directions and doesn't leave his toys around the house," she grins, winking at her son who blushes, obviously feeling good about himself.

"I'm happy Remus agreed to marry me," Sirius drops the bombshell with a shit eating grin, making everyone around the circle gasp. Regulus sees Remus rolling his eyes in exasperation and can't help but laugh.

"Congratulations, the both of you," he says sincerely and the two men smile softly at him, inclining their heads. The others offer their own congratulatory words before they pick up their declarations of thankfulness.

"I'm happy Daddy is happy again," Harry says when it's his turn and Regulus feels tears pricking his eyes. He squeezes his son's hand in response and smiles at him softly.

"I'm proud of my family for overcoming our differences and being together at this moment," Regulus finishes and the others make noises of agreement.

"Hear hear," Ted says.

Their group walks sunwise around the log once more then save a bit of it to use next year.

When that's done, they start the walk back to the Manor and its warmth. For all the fire crackling around the Yule log, it's still late December and they're all trembling a bit as they trudge through the snow.

"Getting married, huh?" Regulus pipes up as he walks beside Sirius and Remus, watching Harry who's chasing Icarus and Draco a few paces ahead.

"We weren't supposed to announce it for a few weeks but someone couldn't help himself," Remus glares at his fiancé.

"The opportunity was right there, moon! I couldn't just let it pass me by," Sirius defends himself, still looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Regulus chuckles and shakes his head. "Well, I'm happy for you two, honestly. I can't say there's a better match on this earth. Any ideas for when the wedding is happening or is it too soon?"

"Haven't decided yet. Maybe in the spring if we're ready," Sirius shrugs.

"Or knowing your brother he might just gather everybody on a random Tuesday because he doesn't feel like waiting anymore," Remus continues dryly though it's obvious a smile is tugging at his lips.

"I'll make sure to have my robes ready to be worn at a moment's notice then," Regulus laughs and Sirius winks at him before he throws an arm around his shoulders as they enter the Manor again.

"I'll leave you enough time to find a date, don't worry."

Regulus snorts. "You'll get married next century then."

"Don't be such a pessimist, Reg," Andromeda butts in, shrugging off her coat. "We'll find you a lad to wear on your arm eventually."

"Andrew from work would be a nice fit, don't you think, love?" Ted teases, eyeing his wife. Andromeda nods with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Alright, this has turned into a matchmaking session and I am deeply uncomfortable with all of you lovebirds discussing my non-existent love life so I'll be going to the library to drown myself in books," Regulus exclaims loudly then ushers Harry into the playroom with his cousins before making a run for the library.

Laughter follows him out and he shakes his head. He both loves and hates this family sometimes but he wouldn't trade them for the world.

The rest of the winter holidays passes peacefully, something for which Regulus is thankful. Harry, Draco and Icarus spend a lot of time running around the Manor, playing in the snow and generally making nuisances of themselves while the adults watch them with smiles on their faces. When it's time to go back to Romania, Regulus' heart breaks at the look of utter devastation on Harry's face. He knows it's hard for his son to part with his cousins and to be alone again back in Bucharest.

"We could move back here, you know," Sirius whispers, his eyes glued to Harry's face full of misery.

"But what about-"

"Death Eaters? Reg, the bad ones have been sent to Azkaban or Kissed already. Do you really think the ones who managed to weasel their ways out will risk their freedom and their Families' already shaky standing to come after the two year old who vanquished their so called Lord? Who's also in the custody of Regulus and Sirius Black?"

Regulus looks away from Harry for a moment, gazing unseeingly somewhere to his left. He swallows drily, fidgets on the spot, then turns back to where his son is gloomily cuddling with Icarus.

"I guess you're right," Regulus concedes.

"What's this really about?" Sirius finally tears his eyes away from his godson and pins Regulus with his grey stare.

"I don't know. I guess I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Ugh I don't know," Regulus growls, frustrated, and runs his hands through his long hair. "I want to be back here for good, because this is home and always has been, and it's good for Harry, but there's also so much bad shit here too! Everybody knows I'm a Black, everybody knows I was a Death Eater or that I'm a traitor, and I'm also the Boy-Who-Lived's guardian to top it all off now. Everywhere I turn, I'll have people staring at me or sneering at me for one reason or another. Not to mention that Mother's here too."

Regulus trails off, words stuck in his throat. He's been over this subject with his therapist countless times, yet it never gets easier. It's the one thing he's still stuck on, the one thing he cannot move past. Because Walburga Black is still very much alive, as shut off and secluded as she's become since Orion's death and Regulus' disappearance. She will get wind of his return to England, and his current circumstances and company, and she will summon him or bully her way into his life and his home, to give him a piece of her mind.

And Regulus doesn't know if he can bear facing his Mother again. Doesn't know if he can stand up to her, or if he'll cower again and obey her every word and beg for forgiveness. Or worse, curse her six ways to Sunday and be forced to live with the knowledge that he's no better than they were, that he could so easily aim his wand at his Mother and harm her. No matter how much she'd deserve it.

"Hey, none of that. That bitch can slip in the shower and crack her skull open for all I care. She doesn't own you, Reggie. She never has. You have me and Remus and Cissy and Andy, and we will not let her hurt you or get to you again, do you hear me? And as for the rest, let people stare and let people sneer. I'll shove their wands so far up their asses for harassing my little brother they'll be vomiting Patronuses when I'm done."

Regulus looks at his brother, at the smirk on his face that fails to hide how serious he actually is about the threat, and it relaxes his tense muscles and jaw. He breathes out slowly and turns his face to look at Harry again. He looks at the pout on his lips, the dried tears on his cheeks, the crease between his eyebrows where he's been frowning for the past half an hour, and he straightens, resolve burning in his veins. He cannot bear to see his son's distress, and Harry's happiness is paramount.

Regulus will not allow strangers or Walburga Black to ruin Harry's happiness, and Regulus will not be the one to cause that frown to appear on his face ever again.

"Alright, we'll stay," Regulus nods, decisive.

Sirius beams and hugs him with one arm.

"Great! So how about you and Harry overstay your welcome for a few more days while Remus and I go back to Bucharest to pack everything and take Tilly back, huh?"

"You just want the house to yourselves after two weeks of sharing a Manor with three other families," Regulus comments dryly but chuckles and shakes his head.

"Caught me. I never could get anything past you, little brother," Sirius clutches his heart.

"Okay, fine then. You go, we stay. I'll visit Gringotts and see what properties are available to me or you without Mother knowing we're there."

"You could take Harry and get that Blood Adoption done while you're at it too," Sirius suggests but Regulus shakes his head.

"No, I've thought about it and I've decided I'll leave that for later. I want it to be Harry's decision. When he's old enough to understand this better, he can choose if he wants to be my son in Magic's eyes as well or not. We're already related through Aunt Dorea as it is, and he's my son in every way that matters anyway, so it can wait."

Sirius nods, his mouth set in a thin line. "You're right. Better to leave it up to him in the future. Now, you might want to go and tell him you're staying or he might just morph his face into a permanent scowl."

Regulus laughs, shaking his head and claps Sirius on the shoulder. "Yeah, I'll go do that. When are you and Remus leaving?"

"I'll talk to him, but I think we'll go today. No point in rescheduling the Portkey, even if we're not all going."

"Alright, then. Let me know before you go. Harry will want to say goodbye."

"Not sure he'll even notice we're gone after you tell him he doesn't have to leave Draco," Sirius laughs then walks away in search of his fiancé.

Regulus watches him go for a bit then breathes in and goes over to Harry. 

His son is still very much pouting and refuses to look at his dad, and Regulus smiles fondly at the boy's antics. He runs a hand through his hair softly, watching as Harry visibly forces himself to stay mad and not lean into the touch.

"Harry, love, I'm sorry for upsetting you. I talked to your Padfoot and we decided to stay in England. For good. What do you think?"

Harry's posture immediately changes, head turning quickly to look at Regulus with wide green eyes and a hopeful smile on his lips.

"For good? No going back?"

"No, love. We can go on vacation in Romania if you want, but we'll be moving here permanently."

"And I can see Draco and Icarus every day?"

"Yes, emerald."

"Yes!" Harry jumps into his arms, almost knocking Regulus over, and he smiles as he embraces his sweet son. 

"Thank you, Daddy," Harry kisses both of his cheeks enthusiastically then before Regulus can say another thing the boy is gone, darting across the room where Draco is, babbling with excitement as he tells his cousin the good news.

"I'm happy you're staying," Icarus says, a beaming smile on his face as well.

Regulus looks at him and smiles back. "I think you're needed for the celebration, Car," he chuckles, eyeing the two boys jumping up and down.

"I'll go over before they break something," Icarus agrees then gets up from the sofa and walks over to the two boys.

Regulus gets up from his crouched position and walks out of the room in search of Narcissa, the happy sounds of the kids following him out into the grand hallways of Malfoy Manor. He has some house hunting to do.

The Leaky Cauldron is sparsely occupied, something unusual for the frequently visited pub if it were any other time. Seeing as it's barely a few days after the New Year, though, the lack of patrons and noise is expected, even as a few witches and wizards still dot the dark interior of the pub.

Regulus nods to Tom the barkeeper as he passes towards the entrance to Diagon Alley and he receives a friendly wave before the man goes back to wiping the counter with a dirty rag. Of course, Tom probably wouldn't have greeted him so warmly if he'd known that underneath the unassuming exterior granted by a glamor spell was none other than the Death Eater turned traitor Regulus Black, but what Tom doesn't know can't hurt him.

The bricks shift and disappear before his eyes when he taps his wand on the brick wall, and Regulus watches as Diagon Alley materializes in all its glory. A childish excitement and nostalgia blossoms in his chest as he takes in his surroundings, remembering the first time he was here as a small child, his first shopping trip for school, or the countless visits for one reason or another. Regulus allows himself to remember quickly and to feel those emotions before putting a lid on it all and pushing the memories away.

He starts walking towards Gringotts, examining the few people roaming the streets of the Alley, and the shop fronts on either side of him. Diagon looks unchanged from the last time he was here, a life time ago. It feels illegal, unfair, unnatural, for this Alley which has seen so much bloodshed, so many people snatched or tortured, so many shops closed permanently against their owners' wills, to appear so unaffected by it all, when Regulus has changed so fundamentally in the span of a year.

Yet, it's real, and it's true. Diagon Alley stands just as it did more than a year ago, just as it probably did two or three decades ago when Regulus wasn't even a thought in his parents' minds, and just as it surely will years and years from now. Shops and their owners come and go, yet the buildings remain, waiting for someone else to fill them and shape them and paint them, because Diagon Alley must exist if Wizarding Britain is to exist also; without it, their community wouldn't be the same.

The Goblin Bank looms over Regulus as he approaches, the white building a beacon that guides all. It's fitting, since Gringotts holds the majority of the population's money and treasures.

Regulus inclines his head politely towards the two goblins standing guard in front of the bank, and they nod stiffly in return before going back to ignoring his existence. He pushes the doors open and steps inside, surveying the interior quickly for an available teller, then walks briskly towards them.

"Greetings, Goblin. I wish to speak with the Black Account Manager," Regulus says, getting to the point quickly since goblins loathe beating around the bush. The less words said between wix and goblins the better, is their policy, and given the frankly ridiculous number of goblin wars and rebellions against wix, Regulus quite agrees.

The goblin stares down at him for a moment, scrutinizing him from head to toe, obviously trying to find any Black features that would warrant his presence and his request.

Lip curling, the goblin asks, "Name?"

"Regulus Arcturus Black. I'd prefer that my presence here today doesn't go beyond us, though."

Something like understanding passes over the teller's face though it's there and gone so fast that Regulus wouldn't bet a sickle that he correctly identified the emotion.

"Through there. A colleague will guide you to Account Manager Axeclaw's office."

"Appreciated. May your coffers never empty," Regulus nods in thanks then walks towards the hall the teller indicated, where another goblin wordlessly takes him to the Black Manager's office.

"I was told the youngest Black requested to see me, yet I do not see him before me," Axeclaw says the second Regulus has closed the door behind him. The goblin is seated behind his desk surrounded by heaps of parchment, quills, inkwells, scales and other instruments. Behind him, a portrait of what Regulus believes is the depiction of one of the countless battles waged by goblins rests against the wall, with two battle axes decoratively crossed beneath it in a glass case.

Personally, Regulus thinks the decorations are a bit much, but he figures the goblins have earned their right to adorn their walls with weapons and disturbing imagery, as tacky as it is.

"Apologies, Master Goblin. My visit here is confidential and I disguised my appearance to ensure word wouldn't travel to my mother or other parties that I'm back on British soil just yet."

He unsheathes his wand and dispels the glamor then puts it back in his wrist holster and crosses his hands behind his back as he allows the goblin to take in his appearance.

"Understandable," Axeclaw grunts. "Sit down and tell me what this confidential business you have with me today is then, Heir Black."

Regulus pulls out the solitary chair in front of the desk and sits down.

"My brother and I are in need of housing. We know many Black properties which would suit our needs, but sadly all of them are well known to our mother and we'd rather she didn't know where we're living or didn't have access to it at all if possible."

Axeclaw scrutinizes him in the same manner the teller did earlier before nodding.

"Yes, I see why that would be a problem. Very well, I can take out your and Sirius' inheritance papers, the ones left by the former Lord Black, and see what your options are."

"That would be appreciated."

The next hour is filled with parchment shuffling as both Axeclaw and Regulus examine the papers. Turns out grandfather Arcturus left him a lot more gold than he had anticipated, which Axeclaw explains is because he had his will edited shortly after Regulus' involvement in the War had gone public. To hear that Arcturus Black rewarded him for being a traitor to the Pureblood Agenda is a shock for sure but Regulus guesses he maybe never really knew his grandfather as much as he thought he did. After all, he never disinherited Sirius.

After reading so much parchment his eyes have started going blurry, the pair finally narrow down the housing options to two Black properties: a small, one bedroom cottage in Scotland, and a three bedroom house in Northern Ireland, both of them in Sirius' name, left over by their grandfather specifically with instructions that no one but him should have access to or knowledge of them. Another thoughtful gesture, since Arcturus had to have known Sirius would never return to the Black Family unless he was the only one left alive to claim that name, and would have preferred that no one knew he owned any Black property if he wasn't.

Regulus examines the two sheets containing information and Wizarding photographs of the two buildings for a second before handing the one with the Scottish Cottage back to Axeclaw.

"We'll take the house in Northern Ireland. I'll show this to my brother to make sure he likes it, but I doubt he can bitch about Belfast being colder than London when that's our only option."

Axeclaw inclines his head and grins sharply at him, which Regulus takes to be an amused smile rather than a bloodthirsty grin.

"Anything else, Heir Black?"

"No, thank you. I'll ask one of the tellers for a withdrawal from my vault on my way out."

"Very well then. Pleasure doing business, as always."

"May your enemies' blood flow as fast as water and your treasures be forever hidden."

"Likewise."

Regulus rises from his seat and gives Axeclaw a parting nod before he opens the door of the office and steps out. He makes his way back to the teller unattended, his glamor back in place, and waits in line for his turn. When he steps up to the same goblin from before, he asks for a withdrawal then follows another goblin to his personal vault deep under Gringotts. Regulus fills his bottomless pouch with money then goes back up to the surface and leaves the bank, his business concluded.

Outside, the Alley is more populated than before he entered Gringotts though still visibly emptier than usual. Regulus lets himself take it in one more time then breathes in and leaves the same way he entered, giving Tom a passing nod once more before he exits the Leaky Cauldron also, back out onto the streets of Muggle London.

The cacophony of sounds and the chaotic bustle of pedestrians is such a stark contrast to the Magical Side he's just left, Regulus has to take a moment to steady himself against the attack on his senses before he walks to a secluded alley, away from prying eyes, and Apparates back to Wiltshire where the Malfoys and Harry await him.

"Sirius stop fooling around and open the damn door."

"I can't find the damn keys if my hands are busy with your lovely bottom, Mr. Black," Sirius replies in his best sultry voice, pinching the aforementioned bottom for emphasis.

Remus yelps and hides his flushed face in Sirius' neck, which is a bad move since his warm breath tickles Sirius' skin in the most delicious way. Suddenly he can't seem to remember any reason why he should be looking for the apartment keys or trying to get inside or do anything, really, aside from feeling up his fiancé and snogging the soul out of him.

"Not married yet," Remus murmurs absently, as if he, too, has forgotten what they were supposed to be doing. "Besides, maybe you will be Mr. Lupin."

"I'll be whatever you want as long as you keep doing that," Sirius breathes shakily as Remus mouths at his collarbone absent-mindedly. And Sirius knows his love isn't aware he's doing it because he always makes sure to leave visible bite marks when he's actually focused on the task - which he isn't at the moment.

Sure enough, that snaps Remus out of it and he finally pushes away from Sirius, his entire face flushed. Sirius takes him in, his eyes pausing rather suggestively when he reaches Remus' bulge, and grins devilishly back.

"Do you see my power? Not so composed now, Mr. Lupin-Black, huh?"

Remus scowls silently and Sirius laughs.

"Black-Lupin then? Has a nice ring to it," he waggles his eyebrows while he searches for the blasted keys. "Aha!" Sirius finally finds them and hurries to unlock the door and enter the apartment with Remus following sullenly. "Tilly, Remus and I are home!"

"Welcome back, Master Sirius! Is Master Reggie and Little Master Harry not with you?" the diminutive elf wrings her hands, her ears drooping in worry.

"They're in Britain, Tilly. And we'll be going too. We decided to move back, which is why Remus and I are here. We need to pack and move in a few days, can you help us with that?"

"Tilly be coming with Masters too?"

"Of course, silly," Sirius grins. "We'd be dead in a week without you."

"Tilly be starting to pack right away, Master Sirius sir!"

The elf pops away then, leaving Sirius and Remus alone in the hallway.

"Well, that's done then. Let's start our packing with the bedroom, what do you say?" Sirius smirks, biting his lip just so, and Remus forgets all about being mad at him. Before he can say another word, Sirius finds himself swept off his feet and being carried in the strong arms of his werewolf fiancé but his yelp of surprise is drowned out by the soft growling coming from Remus' throat.

Sirius prepares himself mentally for a few days of limping, but when Remus throws him on the bed and crawls over him, he thinks that it'll be worth it, especially when Remus does that with his tongue.

Approximately 1,700 miles away, in Wiltshire, UK, Narcissa has just sat down at her desk, sifting through letters and invites to this charity or that ball. Lucius is Ministry free for a blessed few days, that pathetic Fudge fool not needing her husband to tell him which way is right and which is left for once. Of course, she knows it won't last, and Lucius will be roaming the Ministry halls at all hours of the day again soon, but she cherishes these rare moments when she has him all to herself.

She knows what Lucius is doing is important and beneficial for their reputation and family name; if not for them, then at least for Draco when he grows up. Neither of them want their son to suffer because of their mistakes and wrong choices, so working on distancing the Malfoy name from the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters is paramount.

It doesn't stop her loathing the circumstances though.

As she's shuffling the day's correspondence to separate into piles based on level of importance, a spidery script in green ink catches Narcissa's eye and she stops, intrigued. She hasn't heard from him in weeks, not since he almost threw a bottle of firewhiskey at her head when she visited him in that hovel he calls a home, trying to stop him from ruining his life because of a woman and his own mistakes.

"Well, well. Let's see what you have to say, Mr. Severus Snape," Narcissa mutters to herself. She picks up her letter opener and slashes the envelope swiftly, then takes out the cheap, stained parchment without batting an eyelash, and unfurls it.

Her blue eyes roam over the obviously hastily written letter, taking in the ink blotches here and there. She's still cross with Severus for his overreaction when she was only trying to stop her friend from drinking himself into an early grave, but this isn't the Severus she knows and it breaks her heart. He's never been anything less than prim and proper, everything from his clothes to his hair, and even his handwriting, being neat and clean. 

But the war took a toll on him, as well as losing his best friend to the madman he pledged his life to because of his own mistake, and now he's a shell of himself. Always snapping at everyone - even more so than before -, drinking as much as possible, starving himself because he's too drunk or hungover to bother with food. She hates it.

Breathing in deeply and dispelling her thoughts, Narcissa goes back to the top of the letter and starts reading it properly this time.

Her eyebrows raise the further along she goes then finally, when she's finished, she snorts and shakes her head. It figures.

"This man, I swear," she mutters, standing up and leaving her office in search of Regulus. Predictably, she finds him in the playroom, reading a book while keeping an eye on the boys playing a few feet away.

"Do I need to start speaking in another language to get you to understand that they're perfectly safe without you hovering?"

Regulus jumps so high his book leaps from his hands and hits him in the face before falling to the floor. He scrambles to pick it up and place it on a table then he fixes her with a petulant glare that would put Draco's to shame on his worst day.

"I am aware, yes. I just like reading here, it's peaceful."

Narcissa eyes the toddlers making the mother of all rackets in their corner of the playroom and turns her eyes back to Regulus, face blank.

"Right. Whatever makes you feel less like a hovering Snitch of a parent, Reggie dear," she drawls. Regulus scowls and opens his mouth to, no doubt, plead his case, but Narcissa has more important things to discuss than her cousin's issues with staying away from his son for more than half an hour.

"Severus spotted you in Diagon today," she cuts right to the chase. Now, Narcissa isn't the type of woman who enjoys gossip and drama and stirring the pot, but no one can fault her for taking just a little bit of delight in seeing Regulus' face morph from confusion to shock to anger to embarrassment and confusion again.

"What? How?"

"You were wearing the scarf his mother knitted for you in... fifth year, was it?" she pauses to find the paragraph in the letter and continues, "So he recognized you. He knows you have Harry, from Dumbledore, and wants to talk to you."

"First of all," Regulus pinches his nose, "why would Dumbledore tell him that. Second of all, whyever would he want to talk to me, about anything?"

"The first question has a really simple answer: Dumbledore vouched for him to keep him out of Azkaban and in return Severus teaches Potions at Hogwarts and will resume his position as Death Eater to spy for the Headmaster when the Dark Lord inevitably returns. So of course he'd know. The second answer you'll have to get from him, though. These days, he's the only one who knows what's going on through his head."

Narcissa knows she should feel bad about Regulus' suffering, but she so enjoys seeing her little cousin squirming. And the reason is simple: because Regulus is embarrassed to see Severus again.

You see, after one pretty little Lily Evans left Severus in the dust (rightfully so, might she add. Narcissa would have castrated him for calling her a slur in front of an audience at school after trying to help him), little Severus suddenly found himself quite friendless. Sure, the older Death Eaters in the making patted him on the back for standing up to the "mudblood upstart" and putting her in her place, but none of them had any particular interest in hanging out with the weird Half-blood who's good at Potions.

Narcissa had already graduated so she wasn't around anymore (and they'd barely interacted much during their Hogwarts years due to the age difference anyway) so he reluctantly struck up a conversation with the youngest Black, Narcissa's lovely cousin.

The more they talked, the closer they got. Regulus thought he finally found someone who was interested in him for who he really was, as opposed to his family name, and Severus found hope that maybe all was not lost just because Lily Evans wasn't his friend anymore.

Unfortunately for both of them, life is cruel and teenage boys have hormones that sometimes think for them instead of leaving the job to their brains. Severus came to the realization that he had never really been in love with Miss Evans, not because of any philosophical epiphanies, but simply because once puberty hit him like a hippogriff Severus understood that his former best friend belonged to the wrong gender entirely.

Thus, he got a crush on Regulus. Dear, poor Regulus, who saw Severus as the best friend he'd ever had, or something close to it at least, whose reaction to being groped by Barty Crouch that one time they kissed was 'do I have crumbs on my trousers?' and who most certainly didn't reciprocate Severus' feelings.

It all culminated in an embarrassed but flattered Regulus who, as gently as possible, rejected Severus, whose reaction, fueled by teenage hormones-driven embarrassment, ran off and stopped speaking to him after a few weeks of awkward interactions.

So yes, Narcissa is quite enjoying seeing Regulus embarrassed.

"Don't worry, I'm sure he doesn't plan to declare his love in front of the entire population of Diagon Alley this time," she teases.

"I thought we agreed never to mention that again," Regulus mutters through gritted teeth.

Oh, did she forget to mention that Severus' confession had taken place in the Great Hall during lunch in view and within hearing range of the entire school population because Severus was so sure his feelings were reciprocated? Oops.

"And you're a fool if you believed me," Narcissa winks. "So when should I tell him to expect you?"

"What makes you think I'll meet with him?"

"Tomorrow at 10?"

"Yes," Regulus sighs, resigned. Narcissa smiles brightly at him then pats his head condescendingly.

"There there, you poor thing. Brighten up, if everything goes well tomorrow you might have just found your date for Sirius' wedding."

Narcissa smartly retreats and is already halfway out the door when Regulus yells after her, "Stop with that damned confession already!"

She still shakes with suppressed giggles on her way back to her office, where she plans to write Severus a reply. In all seriousness, Narcissa truly hopes Regulus might manage to knock some sense into Severus and drag him away from the pity party he's been throwing himself for more than a year already. Maybe this is just what Severus needs.

As for Regulus? He'll get over his embarrassment eventually. It's not his fault Severus thought the Great Hall at lunchtime was a great place and time for love confessions after all.

Cokeworth is dingy and dreary and dark and dreadful and a whole slew of other disparaging adjectives beginning with the fourth letter in the alphabet. Regulus wrinkles his nose at the disgusting and dirty smell wafting from the polluted river running behind Severus' childhood home, and he shivers in the early January air.

With great effort, he trudges on, walking up to the front door that frankly looks one mild gust of wind away from collapsing and turning into dust, and dubiously knocks on it softly. When it doesn't disintegrate immediately upon contact, Regulus knocks harder to make sure Severus hears him, but stops quickly when the door gives an ominous creak.

He thinks he can hear shuffling from inside the house, though with the wind howling in his ears he can't be sure. For all he knows, that's just the roof collapsing on the back of the house. Or one of the walls giving its final breath.

The door opens though, revealing a mess of greasy hair, dirty clothes and not much else, which shifts Regulus' thoughts from making disparaging comments about the house to making them about its owner.

"Did you fall into a cauldron full of oil and roll around in dirt on your way to the door?"

The greasy mass of hair shifts upwards to reveal a face. Underneath the scowl and the huge bags under his eyes, Regulus thinks he can spot his former school friend. Just barely.

"First time we see each other and have a real conversation in years and the first thing you do is insult me?"

"I wasn't insulting you, just stating a fact. Now, can I enter your dubiously humble abode or am I supposed to stand here and slowly freeze to death?" Regulus raises an eyebrow.

They haven't spoken to each other properly since their friendship died, but this, the banter and sarcasm and biting retorts, it feels like home. Severus is the only person Regulus ever really felt comfortable with enough to be snappy and sassy and mean with, and it surprises him how easy it is to fall back into the pattern. Suddenly, he regrets being an awkward teenager and not getting over an embarrassing confession. Maybe he wouldn't have lost the only friend he had.

"Come in then," Severus sighs and steps aside to allow him entrance, acting so put upon, as if it wasn't him who sent Narcissa a letter requesting Regulus to visit.

The door shuts with a forbidding rattle, but thankfully it keeps the howling wind at bay well enough. Regulus suspects magic at play, since according to all laws of physics that frail little amalgamation of wood shouldn't withstand that much strong wind.

"Are you done mentally abusing my house or should I give you ten more minutes?" Severus scowls.

"Now why would you think I was doing that?" Regulus blinks up at him innocently.

"Because I know you. And you're doing that thing where your thoughts play out on your face while you're thinking. Some Slytherin Pureblood you are."

"Good thing I'm truly a Ravenclaw at heart and most certainly a Blood Traitor then," Regulus replies sunnily then plops down carelessly on a dusty and creaky sofa. Severus winces, probably because said sofa is much closer to death than before Regulus' physical assault, but he sits himself down in the armchair facing it.

"So, Narcissa told me you're being a baby and wallowing, and also taking a leaf out of the Tobias Snape Guide to Being a Shitty Person by replacing the blood in your veins with hard liquor. What's that about?"

"Narcissa should learn to keep her thoughts to herself," Severus mutters.

"She should. But it doesn't erase the truth. So?"

Severus sighs and leans back in the armchair, eyes glued to the ceiling which Regulus just noticed has an alarmingly huge dark stain leaking water on the floor. Charming house, truly.

"You know I was the one who told the Da- him the prophecy, which got Lily and Potter killed. And now I'm bound to Dumbledore indefinitely and will have to return to that monster as soon as he shows up again."

"First of all: you made a mistake, live with it. True, you were an adult with critical thinking skills and you knowingly chose the side that wanted your best friend and everyone like her dead or enslaved, but you also were a dumb kid with no positive role models to teach you true right from wrong. And you sort of made up for it in the end, in the only way you could and knew how to."

Severus brings his eyes back to Regulus at his words, wide and black and astonished. Okay, so maybe Regulus wasn't always this blunt and direct with his words, not even in Hogwarts. But that's what therapy and interacting with Sirius Black, Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks on a regular basis does to a person.

"Second of all, nobody forced you to bind yourself to Dumbledore. You could have gone to Azkaban instead, and I'm sure you'd have loved it. I hear the Dementors are nice this time of year. Trust me, being forced to teach 11 year olds how to stir a potion or playing spy is ten times better than rooming with Dementors for the rest of your life. So again, suck it up."

Severus is speechless, looking at him with his mouth half open and his eyes wide. Regulus feels proud of himself in this moment so he soldiers on now that he's on a roll.

"I assume you did all these things to repent in front of Lily or whatever. But aside from the fact that she's dead so she isn't likely to offer any forgiveness any time soon, sorry, you're not really making progress on that front if you spend all your time being a miserable bat with a drinking problem. I shudder to think how you treat your students, Severus.

"The way I see it, dear friend, is you have two options: either get your act together and start living properly and making right by Lily by not simply helping the war effort in the future or looking over her son, but also by being a better human being and a responsible teacher and adult figure in those kids' eyes, or drink yourself to death and stop this pathetic pity party cause you're not helping anyone here; not Lily, not yourself, and certainly not that little boy who's the only trace of her left on this planet."

Regulus leans back against the sofa with a serene smile on his face that belies the inner turmoil running through him. Truly, he hates seeing Severus like this, and maybe he's being too harsh on him, but clearly sugar coating it isn't going to accomplish anything. What Severus needs is a rude wake up call and a reality check. Sirius lost two thirds of his chosen family that Halloween night, a friend, and his freedom, spent two months in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit, and he still pulled himself together because life goes on and the ones who left us behind will never want us to waste our lives away in grief of them.

Severus isn't special. That's the harsh reality. And he needs to realize it before he kills himself or twists himself so badly that at the end of it he'll hardly recognize himself.

"You're right," Severus finally speaks, his voice quiet. Regulus eyes him curiously, waiting for more and his former friend doesn't disappoint. "I've been pathetic and acting selfishly. I'll work on it. Thanks you, Regulus."

"I charge 10 Galleons per therapy session, I'll await your payment in the mail."

Severus cracks a smile at that, then it widens and widens until he's chuckling then full on laughing. Regulus joins in, and they laugh themselves silly, more so at the ridiculous situation than because of any particular humor found.

"Now, mind telling me what this summons was about?" Regulus asks when he's finally calmed down and his body stops emitting occasional giggles.

"When Dumbledore told me you took Potter and left the country I was relieved, both for your safety and his. But then I saw you yesterday and I was so worried, so angry at you for returning, I needed to see you," Severus admits.

"Ah, understandable. Well, neither Sirius nor I particularly enjoy being away from home so we decided it's time to come back. We can protect ourselves or Harry against threats, and not many will risk their shaky standing in polite society in the name of a fallen Lord. The crazies have already been chucked in Azkaban or killed by Aurors, or so I've heard. Besides, Harry needs children his own age and to be around his own culture. I couldn't give him that where we were."

Severus observes him for a long moment, those piercing black eyes boring into him so shrewdly Regulus feels like his very soul is being Legilimized.

"You got attached to the boy."

It's a statement more than a question, but Regulus answers anyway.

"I did. I love him like my own son. He is my son. And I will destroy anyone who jeopardizes his safety or happiness," Regulus replies, looking Severus right in the eyes, knowing his message is getting across.

Severus looks right back and nods seriously.

"Would it be okay if I met him one day?"

Regulus is surprised by the request. He wouldn't have thought he would want to see Harry, at least not this soon, but maybe his words really did shake Severus. Who knows.

"Certainly. I'll be busy with the move back here for at least the next week, and then I want to give Harry a couple more weeks to adjust to the new environment, but after that you can come by any time you want. I'll even shoo Sirius away from home in advance."

"Thank you," Severus replies quietly, not even acknowledging the Sirius comment. Wow, he must be really shaken. Good job, Regulus. Maybe he should take up therapy as a profession.

"Now, do you have any edible food in here or do I have to cook for you?"

"As if I'll let you anywhere near a stove," Severus snorts and gets up from the armchair, already seeming in better spirits, if only in appearance. It's a start, though. Regulus isn't discouraged in the least. He'll get this grumpy mess of a human being mentally healthy if it's the last thing that he does.

"Hey, I'll have you know I've gotten better. Even my house elf doesn't look worried when I tell her to leave me alone in the kitchen for more than half an hour."

"Sure, Black. I'll believe it when I see it."

"Oh, you're on, Snape. I'll make you pasta so good you'll eat your words."

"If you're making the pasta, words is the only thing I'll be eating," Severus fires back and Regulus' lips curl into a smile.

"Go wash off that decade worth of grime and grease while I tidy up this place before I catch ten different diseases, three of which I'm sure have been extinct for centuries, then we're going shopping."

Severus sticks his tongue out at him but obeys, trudging up the stairs towards what Regulus assumes is a bathroom of some kind. Hopefully it has a shower with running water, and with a bit of luck it might even run hot.

Regulus whips his wand out and starts muttering spell after cleaning spell, and a satisfied smile stretches his face when he hears the pipes groaning as water starts circulating in what must be weeks judging by the state of unkemptness he found Severus in.

"STOP SMILING LIKE A SMUG PRICK, REGULUS! I CAN FEEL THAT SMILE FROM OVER HERE!"

Yes, it's definitely a start.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

The grin is audible even without having to see his face.

"Like that. You're smug. You don't get to be smug, Regulus Black."

"And why is that? I deserve to be smug," Regulus grins wider and reclines on the sofa, lifting his feet and placing them on the rickety coffee table. He can see Severus' temple vein twitching in his periphery.

"You don't."

"I do too. I told you my pasta is good, but did you listen? When will you learn to stop doubting my greatness, Severus?"

"I liked you better before you got therapy," Severus grumbles but the words have no heat behind them, which only serves to make Regulus grin even wider than before. His cheeks are aching but it's so worth seeing his friend annoyed at being proved wrong and ticked off by Regulus shoving it in his face. He never used to do that in his teens but he finds it - excuse the pun - therapeutic.

"Shut up, you love me and you know it. Now, I think it's time I returned since it's time for Harry's afternoon nap and he'll hate me forever if I'm not there to read him a story."

Regulus gets to his feet and waves his wand to send all the dishes to the sink. Severus follows him to the door and watches him put his shoes on and close his winter cloak before applying a Warming Charm for good measure. The black eyes are fathomless and unreadable as per usual, but Regulus would like to think that behind them lurks fondness and affection, maybe even gratitude.

"Send me an owl when you're settled in," Severus once again states more than requests, but the sentiment is there. Severus Snape stopped asking for things a long time ago when he learned the answer was always going to be "no", and Regulus gets it.

"Of course. We can owl back and forth until then if you want. I don't want to come barging in or assume anything just because of one invitation, but I'd love to try being your friend again. Better this time. I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly drowning in friends these days."

Severus looks at him for a moment, assessing him or debating with himself, Regulus doesn't know which. The man seems almost reluctant to give an answer, as if accepting would lead to hurt and abandonment, whereas declining would mean never knowing what could have been and regretting. Right when Regulus is deciding whether he should just leave it be and exit the house on Spinner's End, Severus extends his right hand.

"Severus Snape, pleased to meet you again. I'd love to get to be your friend."

Regulus' mouth stretches into a small, fond smile and he clasps the hand with his own.

"Regulus Black, likewise."

They stay like that for a moment, and Regulus has the feeling that letting go is the last thing Severus wants to do in this moment. Not because of any lingering romantic feelings, but rather because this is probably the first kind human touch Severus has experienced in a long time. Regulus knows all about being touch starved, and he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. His gut is telling him to tug on the arm and pull him into a hug, but he knows it's too much, too soon. One day, though. One day he'll be the friend Severus deserved all those years ago.

Finally, Severus pulls away and buries his hand in a pocket where Regulus just knows the man is fidgeting with his wand - it's what he always did as a teenager when he was nervous.

"Your son awaits your story, I think, Regulus."

"Right. See you soon, Severus. And don't forget to write."

Severus nods wordlessly and Regulus smiles softly in return before opening the door and stepping outside where snow flurries are dancing in the wind. The wintry air freezes his breath as he inhales but Regulus loves it. It smells fresh, like renewal.

Before he Disapparates, Regulus turns back to Severus, who's standing in the doorway watching him.

"Happy 23rd birthday, Sev."

He doesn't stay around to hear the response. Instead, he turns on his heel and disappears with a pop, the snow flowing gently in the place he used to occupy.

Later at Malfoy Manor, Regulus has just put Harry down for sleep when there is a knock at the door.

"Yes? Come in."

The door opens quietly and Narcissa slips in, watching Harry with soft eyes before her gaze focuses on him.

"Hey, Reggie. How was your meeting with Severus?" she whispers.

Regulus wordlessly gestures for her to follow him out onto the balcony, and they slip outside together, closing the door behind them to make sure no noise reaches the sleeping boy.

"It went well," Regulus finally answers, exhaling hard in the cold air. He can see his breath and thinks maybe they shouldn't have gone to an open balcony in January to have this conversation.

"And? Come on, don't make me drag the words out of you," Narcissa snaps impatiently.

"And nothing. What do you want me to say? We agreed to start our friendship over and I think I knocked some sense into him. He seemed marginally better by the time I left. I don't know, only time will tell."

They lapse into silence for a moment. Regulus stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks out over the grounds of the Malfoy property, gaze unseeing as he follows the horizon with his eyes. He can feel Narcissa's eyes on him, questioning but quiet, as always both demanding answers while being patient to wait him out. He both loves and hates that about her.

"I didn't realize how lonely I was until I saw Severus today," Regulus finally breaks and he hears Narcissa shifting her weight behind him. He keeps his eyes outwards. "I have you guys in my life, and you all matter so much. I love you all and I appreciate you standing by me through everything but..."

"But we're family. And Severus is not," Narcissa finishes for him. She puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes softly and Regulus lets her do it without turning his head to look at her. "We all have someone in one way or another, while all you have is your brother or cousins and their partners. That's fine, Regulus, it's normal to feel like that. Why do you think I encouraged you to meet him? You both could use a friend, and you certainly need to get out of the house and socialize with someone who isn't a family member," she laughs.

Regulus nods, still looking at the skyline, following stray snowflakes as they drift back and forth, pushed by the January air. He thinks about all the reasons why this friendship is a bad idea.

"Sirius and Remus have history with him," Regulus supplies without explaining further because it's unnecessary - Narcissa knows all about it.

"And they're all adults who've gone through a war and lost people they cared about. They will get their heads out of their asses fast if they don't want to hurt you - and trust me, they don't. It's not your job to mediate and pacify and worry about everyone constantly, Regulus. At this point in time your biggest and only duty is to that sleeping angel over there and to yourself. The rest of us can handle ourselves."

Regulus nods again, smiling softly as he turns around to face his cousin. Narcissa is watching him with warm eyes and he is struck by how kind this fierce, whirlwind of a woman can be after growing up in the same household as Bellatrix and Cygnus Black. He's always admired how tall and proud she stands, the perfect picture of the Pureblood Lady, how vicious and fierce she is against enemies, but he's never appreciated how kind and gentle and loving she can be with those she calls her own.

"Let's get inside before the house elves have to defrost us with Warming Charms," Narcissa suggests and extends her elbow. Regulus takes it and follows her quietly inside, shutting the door firmly behind them. Arms linked, they walk out of the bedroom and towards her office where tea and scones await.

"Severus! How good to see you sober and cleaned up. I must admit, I've been worried, my boy, but I felt it wasn't my place to judge how a man handles his grief."

The Headmaster's jolly voice is like a cheese grater to his nerves, but Severus grits his teeth and keeps his thoughts to himself. Term is beginning soon and unfortunately his stay away from Dumbledore, the annoying faculty of the school and the snot-nosed brats that haunt his every waking moment within these walls has to come to an end.

"Indeed," is all Severus says. A man with more self preservation would take it as the dismissal it is and end the conversation here. Albus Dumbledore is not that man.

"I am so happy for you, my boy, don't misunderstand me, but I must admit I'm curious about what brought this change of heart, though?"

"Does it matter?" Severus drawls.

"Why of course it does. You wouldn't happen to have had a chat with a mutual, dark haired acquaintance of ours recently, would you?"

Severus stiffens, then forces himself to relax immediately so as not to arouse suspicion, and crosses his arms, turning his head to look at the Headmaster casually. If he makes sure to rest his eyes on the bridge of the man's nose instead of making eye contact, that's just coincidence.

"And how would you know who I'm meeting in my own home outside of working hours, Headmaster?" he narrows his eyes infinitesimally, drumming his fingers imperceptibly on his folded forearm.

Dumbledore blinks at him guilelessly and folds his hands on top of the desk.

"Is it so wrong to check in on you, my dear Severus? I know how hard this past year has been on you, and I was simply worried for your safety."

Safety, right.

"Even if I was - meeting our unnamed acquaintance, that is - what would it matter? Am I not allowed to have friends you don't approve of, Albus?"

"Certainly not, my boy. Why, I'm just stumped about why he would be here when he specifically told me he was somewhere else the last time I saw him."

"People change their minds. Is that also not allowed, unless you grant your approval?"

Too far. Severus knows he took it a bit too far when Dumbledore's eyes narrow slightly behind those half moon spectacles of his and his hands still on the desktop.

"Severus, do I need to remind you why Regulus' presence here worries me?" All pretenses are off, and Dumbledore finally comes out and addresses the elephant in the room. "First he refuses to allow me access to the boy, saying he'll stay abroad and even threatening me that I won't see Harry at all if I keep pushing. Now he's back without even a word, knowing full well how dangerous it is to bring Harry into the Wizarding World so soon, and doesn't even bother to let me know so that I can give my protection."

Severus keeps his head bowed, knowing he can't say anything against the Headmaster so long as he's bound to the man as thoroughly as he is. His fists clench, knuckles turning white and blunt nails biting into his palms, leaving half moons imprinted on the skin.

"What do you know of his plans? How long is he staying here?"

Severus shakes his head. He refuses to betray Regulus' confidence like this, even to Dumbledore, whose motivations are good, albeit underhanded.

"Severus, remember who you answer to. I hate using my power over you like this, but I will if I feel like I have to. Where is your loyalty to the Light? To Lily Evans? To her son? This isn't about some silly friendship from your school days. The fate of the entire world hangs in the balance, dependent solely on the safety of that boy."

Severus sits there and listens to the admonishing words and the threats and the dismissal of not only himself but Regulus as well. As if Regulus is a stupid little boy playing house, who doesn't know the dangers full well, who hasn't lived through horrors Dumbledore can only imagine.

What does he know of safety? Where was he when Severus was being belted by his father for having the audacity to have magic under his roof? Where was he when Regulus was being held under the Cruciatus by his own mother at the age of 13? Where was he when the Dark Lord barged into the Potters' house and killed them?

Severus turned spy and risked his neck for the so called Light, for Dumbledore, for Lily, so that she might be saved in spite of his mistakes and betrayals. It was all for nothing since in the end she still died, and the only reason her son is breathing today is thanks to her - her brilliance, her sacrifice. Dumbledore did nothing.

Above all, Severus hates how the man so blatantly tries to manipulate him by invoking Lily, and worse - her son. Who is nothing but a tool to him, judging by his words. Is that Harry Potter's only purpose, in Dumbledore's eyes? Saving the world? Who will save him from it, though?

"Her name is - was - Lily Potter," Severus finally speaks, voice quiet and trembling. His hands are shaking, nails biting even more into the soft flesh of his palms. "She married Potter and had a child with him and died as Lady Lily Potter. And her son is more than this wretched world's savior. He is a child, with a godfather and an adoptive father and so much family to care for and protect him.

"If Regulus has refused your help, if he has pushed you away, if he doesn't want you in his son's life, then that is his decision. As for me, you may do whatever you see fit. Throw me in Azkaban, torture me, torment me with Lily's memory and my own guilt, do your worst. But I will not betray Regulus. I've been on the wrong side of betrayal one too many times to do it again now."

Severus' entire body is shaking by the time he's done speaking but his head is held high and he's staring straight at Dumbledore, unafraid and unwilling to break. Dumbledore looks at him shrewdly for a moment, eyes calculating and lacking the warmth and kindness they usually hold, and Severus knows this is the real man behind the grandfatherly facade. At heart, Albus Dumbledore is a general in a war. He is capable of love and kindness and patience, but he's weaponized it long ago, learned to use it to his advantage.

Severus doesn't doubt the man may care for Harry and his happiness to a certain degree - he is the son of his favorite former students, after all. But he also knows that, due to that thrice damned prophecy, Harry will always be a pawn in a game of chess against the Dark Lord, kept safe until the moment the Headmaster deems it appropriate to set him loose on the madman to fulfill his destiny.

Severus swore to protect the child, and he will. If it means protecting him against the very man he swore it to, then so be it. His life is forfeit, anyway. Harry James Potter, however, has many more years ahead of him, and Severus Tobias Snape will be damned if he allows the sacrifice of his best friend and her husband to go to waste because of Albus Dumbledore.

"I see," Dumbledore finally speaks. "Very well, Severus. You have shown where your loyalties lie, and while they are not with me, I take comfort in knowing Harry shall be under your unconditional protection. You can be on your way."

Severus rises steadily from his seat without a word and storms out of the office, his long, black robes billowing behind him as he goes. His actions today might have unpleasant consequences in the future, but all that matters is that he didn't break Regulus' confidence and is still free to stalk the hallways of Hogwarts another day.

He sighs quietly to himself as he approaches the door to his office, and prepares himself to review this term's syllabus. He thinks back to Regulus' words a couple of days ago. "Responsible teacher and adult figure". He can do that.

With renewed determination, Severus enters his office and starts leafing through the syllabus of each year. He will become a better teacher to these dunderheads if it kills him. After all, they're sort of his dunderheads now and he'll be damned if any student of his walks out of his classroom with anything less than an Exceeds Expectations.

The train leaves the station with one final shrill whistle. The metal parts clang rhythmically as it gains speed, and Regulus holds on to the bars and seats around him as he makes his way towards his seat. He finally finds his place, though how he knows it's his is a mystery since the seats aren't labeled and he doesn't have his ticket on him, and he plops down. He thinks it's daytime, though the blurry view speeding past him outside the train's grimy window is vague and out of focus. The more he tries to see it clearly, the blurrier it gets.

His attention is ripped away from the window when the other passengers gasp and start making noise as they exclaim at some kind of commotion up ahead. Regulus strains his neck to try and catch a glimpse, but it's futile. Not feeling up to it, he just settles back in his seat - if it's something important, it'll come to him eventually.

From one blink to the next, someone is standing in front of him. Regulus turns his head to face the new arrival and, somehow, isn't surprised to see his Mother looking down at him.

"Mind if I sit?"

Her voice is softer and kinder than he's ever heard it in his life. Distantly, he feels something like his heart aching, but it's so far removed from the present he's not even sure he didn't just imagine it.

"Go ahead."

Walburga sits down gingerly next to Regulus then surveys their surroundings. Now, Regulus notices everyone looking at her with fear, hatred or respect in their eyes, and he understands she was the reason for their earlier reaction.

"I'm so disappointed in you," his Mother speaks unexpectedly, and her voice is still that unusual, soft tone.

"Why?" he asks, genuinely perplexed. All he did was get on the train, after all.

"You know why," Walburga sighs and she folds her hands one on top of the other on her lap. Regulus searches her face, which is turned away from him and is staring straight ahead, but he can't read anything in her expression. A beat of silence passes then she finally faces him, expression serene, looking younger than the last time he's seen her - she resembles the Walburga Regulus vaguely remembers as a toddler, though much, much kinder. "You left me to rot on my own in that wretched house, Regulus Arcturus. I gave you all the opportunities you could have wanted, any child could have wanted, to succeed in life, and how did you repay me? You betrayed the Dark Lord, let me believe you'd disappeared in battle, presumed dead, and when I finally got word that you were alive - simply a traitor - you ran away again."

Although her words are harsh, his Mother's face and tonality remain unchanged, as if she's discussing the weather or reciting a recipe out loud.

Regulus wants to retaliate. Wants to tell her how much she'd fucked up his childhood, how she pressured him into doing all the wrong things, how betraying the Dark Lord was the first good thing he did on his own and how he needed to abandon her to rot in Grimmauld Place to ensure it wouldn't be him wasting away in that dark, oppressing prison. He wants to tell her how much happier he is now, and how loved and wanted and needed he is. So much so that sometimes he doubts he'd ever known true love before getting Harry in his life.

But no words come out. Regulus is left staring at Walburga, mouth gaping like a fish, words stuck somewhere in his chest.

His Mother smiles, an indulgent expression one might wear when their child is throwing a temper tantrum and they're letting them exhaust themselves.

"Don't worry, Mother forgives all. You've always been so easily impressionable, my dear Regulus. I'm sure that good for nothing brother of yours got into your head and manipulated you away from my side. It's not your fault you're weak, my son. I shall find you and I won't let you out of my sight again. I'll make sure you do what you're supposed to, from now on."

Her lips are pulled into a soft, gentle smile, and Regulus hates it more than her sneers - at least those are genuine. Walburga brings one of her hands to his face and cups his cheek tenderly, a sharp fingernail digging into his skin painfully. Regulus wants to flinch back, move away, but he's rooted to the spot and all he can do is stare into her unfeeling, cruel eyes as she continues to smile.

"My poor, weak Regulus. Mother will fix it all, as she always does."

Her hand trails down his jaw, slowly, painfully, leaving a trail of red scratches where her nails dig sharply into his skin, until it reaches his throat. There, her hand pauses for a moment before wrapping itself around it. Regulus looks on, panicked and immobile, breathing harshly as Walburga starts to squeeze, gently at first, then the pressure starts building and building and Regulus starts choking along with it.

Between one moment and the next, his eyes snap open. Regulus is gasping for breath, his heart is hammering in his chest and a light sweat his making his clothes cling unpleasantly to his body. He stays frozen in the same position he woke up in, staring into the darkness, feeling as if his Mother is still next to him, squeezing the life out of him.

Finally, he sits up and grabs his wand, casting a spell to check the time - 5:37 am.

"Bloody hell," Regulus mutters to himself before he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and gets up.

He tiptoes over to Harry's crib to check on him, finding the boy fast asleep. He's sprawled on his back, his chest rising and falling steadily, his head turned sideways where he seems to be sleepily gnawing on his fist. Regulus smiles and runs a gentle hand over his hair and cheek then leaves his son to his sleep.

He showers and changes into a clean set of robes, then leaves the bedroom quietly after casting a Monitoring Charm on Harry in case he wakes up before Regulus returns.

The Manor is quiet and peaceful so early in the morning while all its occupants are fast asleep - save one, whose nightmares are determined to torture him still. Regulus walks along the lengthy hallways, mindful of his footsteps, and reaches the kitchen where one of the Malfoy elves is puttering around.

"Good morning, Mr. Black, sir! What is you doing in the kitchens so early, sir? Dobby is not cooking breakfast yet, oh no. Dobby must punish himself for this great mistake, oh yes. What will Master and Mistress say when they be hearing Dobby is a bad elf who is not preparing food in time for their guests."

Bewildered, Regulus watches, mind still halfway stuck in his earlier nightmare, as Dobby the elf grabs a random pan off the stove and starts hitting himself over the head with it. The resounding clang as it comes in contact with the creature's head finally snaps him out of his state and he rushes forward just in time to catch Dobby's wrist and stop the second blow.

"Dobby, stop punishing yourself. You did nothing wrong, okay? It's not your fault. I woke up early because of a nightmare and came here to make myself a cup of tea. I didn't even know someone would be awake at this hour. You didn't disappoint your Masters, it's okay."

Dobby looks at him in bewildered awe, green, bulbous eyes seeming even bigger now.

"Mr. Black be meaning it?" the elf whispers slowly.

"Of course. Now let go of the pan, please, and go back to whatever your duties are. I'll make myself tea and leave you to your chores."

Dobby slowly lowers his hand, letting go of the pan so that Regulus can deposit it back on the stove, and stares at Regulus as if he's never seen another human being before. Regulus decides to allow the emotional elf a moment to collect himself, and instead directs his attention to finding a kettle and some tea bags.

By the time he's set the water to boil, Dobby seems to have calmed down somewhat.

"Dobby can be making sir's tea," he says, gnawing on his lips in a nervous gesture, eyes anxiously darting between the pan and back to Regulus again.

"I know, but I like doing things myself sometimes. You can help me find a cup and saucer, though."

"Dobby can do that!" Dobby exclaims enthusiastically. He darts around the kitchen, jumping over a moving broom and dustpan busy sweeping the floor, and almost stumbling over a bucket full of water which was in the process of dumping itself into the sink. Eventually, the tiny elf reaches the right cupboard and opens the door, rummaging around for a few seconds before emerging, victorious, with a cup and saucer.

When he presents them to Regulus, he notes with amusement that they seem to be of much nicer, fancier quality than what they've been using at mealtimes so far. If he had to guess, Regulus would say these are probably part of a set Narcissa usually brings out for high standing guests or balls and society parties.

"Thank you, Dobby," he smiles at the elf, who beams in pleasure for a second before hurriedly going back to preparing a chicken at the counter.

Regulus turns off the stove and brings the kettle over to his cup, where he dumps a chamomile and vanilla tea bag before pouring boiling water over it. Mission accomplished, Regulus takes his cup after plopping a spoon in it and stuffing a packet of sugar and milk in his pocket, and bids Dobby goodbye.

The elf waves back energetically and Regulus shakes his head in amusement as he walks away.

He heads out into the gazebo, covered in Warming Wards to fend off the January chill, and places his tea, sugar and milk on the table then sinks down into a chair. Regulus takes a moment to look around him, at the snow covered grounds and the dark sky, and sighs to himself before preparing his now fully steeped tea and taking a grateful sip.

As he stays there and drinks his hot tea, Regulus' mind drifts to the nightmare that woke him up. It's not the first time he's dreamt of his Mother, but he wishes she'd stop haunting his sleep. He knows it's a reaction to the stress of his waking hours, that although Sirius alleviated his fears somewhat, the worry that he'll run into her or she'll track him down somehow still lingers at the back of his consciousness.

He tries not to let it get to him, but a few months of therapy cannot completely undo years of mental abuse. Now that he thinks about it, Regulus realizes he'll have to find another therapist here. Maybe he can owl Dr. Popovici later and see if she has any recommendations in the British Isles.

By the time he comes out of his musings, morning has descended upon the Malfoy Property, the weak sun struggling to push past grey clouds to warm up the earth. Regulus gulps down his remaining tea with a grimace - cold tea is the worst - and readies himself to get up and go back inside.

An eagle owl swoops down from the sky and lends in front of him before he can push away from the table though.

"And what's this?" he wonders aloud. The owl drops a letter in his lap then hops over to a chair where it can groom itself in peace, so Regulus takes it and opens the seal.

Regulus,

Dumbledore saw you when you came over a few days ago and asked me about your stay in England. He was upset that you did not inform him of your arrival, and wants to know if you are just visiting or planning to stay longer. I did not tell him anything, which you can guess did not please him too much, but do not worry about me. I am valuable enough that he will not force the information out of me.

I doubt he will personally contact you, not now, but I will not put it past him to have you tailed and observed. Be careful.

I know you know what you are doing, but please do not antagonize him unnecessarily. He may not be dangerous when it comes to your safety or Harry's, but Albus Dumbledore is not someone you want as your enemy either.

I hope you are okay. Do not hesitate to owl me. I am always available for you.

Severus Snape

Regulus looks at the letter with narrowed eyes. So, Dumbledore isn't done meddling in his life, is he?

"You can go back to your master. I don't have anything to write a reply with here so I'll write it later and send it off with my own owl."

The eagle owl looks unblinkingly at him then takes off, and Regulus pockets the letter and grabs the cup and saucer from the table. He rises from his seat and goes back inside, cogs turning in his head as he walks.

He had hoped the old man had gotten the message and decided to finally mind his own business, but it looks like that's not the case at all. No worries, Regulus isn't intimidated, not by a long shot. If that's how Dumbledore wants to do things, then so be it.

With a spring in his step, Regulus rounds the corner towards the kitchen and hums under his breath. Dobby eyes him with wide eyes as he sets his cup to wash with a flick of his wand and lets him know his Mistress is awake and waiting for him in the Dining Room. Regulus thanks him then walks back out, walking leisurely towards his destination, all the while humming and thinking of all the colors Dumbledore's face will turn when he fails in subduing Regulus.

Narcissa doesn't even ask when she sees the scheming look in his eyes.

It's a few days later when Sirius and Remus finally return to England with all their luggage and Tilly in tow. Regulus graciously doesn't point out that with the help of a house elf it shouldn't have taken more than a day, and simply smiles to himself.

"So, this is what you found?" Sirius leans back in his chair, one arm thrown carelessly around Remus' shoulders while the other holds up the file Regulus took from Gringotts on the Northern Ireland property.

"Yes, the other one was too small. I, of course, have no other properties  left in my name aside from Uncle Alphard's apartment, so this is our only option. Unless you want to buy an entire other house or apartment, obviously."

Sirius wrinkles his nose. "I hate house-hunting. Besides, this looks fine," he waves the moving pictures around then steadies his hand and angles them so Remus can take a look. "What do you think?"

Regulus watches Remus as he flips through the file. The werewolf's eyes linger for a moment on the pictures of the expansive garden and surrounding woods, and he knows Remus has made his choice before the other man even voices it.

"It's perfect," Remus speaks up softly. "The two of you and Harry will have plenty of space to fly when he gets older, and I can run around the woods during the full moon. After we ward it properly, of course."

Sirius beams at his fiancé, leaning in to give him a smacking kiss on the cheek, and Regulus pretends to gag as he averts his eyes.

"Sirius! Control yourself, for Circe's Sake."

"Now why would I do that, moon-moon," Regulus can hear the smirk in Sirius' voice.

"First of all, call me that again and you're sleeping on the ground for a month. Secondly, because your brother is in the room."

"Oh no, by all means, continue. Don't stop on my account," Regulus drawls sarcastically, examining his nails casually.

"See? Reggie doesn't mind," Sirius catches his eye and winks impertinently. Regulus subtly flips him off and rolls his eyes when Sirius pouts.

"He absolutely does mind," Remus chides, pushing Sirius away rather ineffectively, in Regulus' humble opinion. "Now be serious for a moment, this is an important decision."

Before his brother can even open his mouth, Regulus adds, "don't say you're serious all the time or I will make Mother's dream of having only one son alive come true."

"Merlin, tough crowd. Okay, alright, I'm serious."

Both Regulus and Remus can see Sirius' lips twitching, and they shake their heads in exasperation at the same time.

"Have you seen the house yet?" Remus asks, getting them all back on track.

"No," Regulus shakes his head, "I waited till you both got back. We can go today, though. The house should be in order since Grandfather Arcturus had a Stasis Charm placed on it according to our Account Manager."

"Then let's get changed and go on a trip," Sirius claps his hands, rising from his seat and grinning with excitement. Regulus stands up as well and goes back to his bedroom, where he shrugs into warmer robes and a winter cloak. Harry is down for his nap, so he plants a gentle kiss on his son's forehead and leaves him be, knowing Tilly will be keeping an eye on him while they're out.

The three adults meet up at the front door where they all read the coordinates provided by Gringotts one more time before Apparating to Northern Ireland.

When his feet touch the ground, Regulus feels gravel underneath his boots, and a biting wind sweeping his hair in every direction and stinging his face. He looks around and takes in the small hill they're standing on, with some moderately sized mountain on one side and the sea on the other.

"What town is this, again?" Sirius asks, his voice barely traveling through the howling wind.

"Newcastle. That's the Slieve Donard Mountain and that's the Irish Sea," Regulus replies automatically.

Sirius quirks an eyebrow, smirks, and says, "Ravenclaw."

Regulus makes a face at him then turns his back on his brother, pointedly ignoring his childish jabs. As he turns around, he finally catches sight of the house.

From his vantage point it doesn't seem very wide, but it has two floors and a big porch. The exterior is painted a creamy white, with a black tiled roof on top, windows surrounded by dark frames, and a black, steel door.

A massive metal gate separates them from the house itself, while a long metal fence continues alongside the edges of the property. If he squints really hard, Regulus can make out trees in the distance, where he guesses the small forest included in the property lies.

Wordlessly, the three of them start walking towards the gates. Regulus can hear the soft hum of idle wards - meaning they're there and they're protecting the property to a certain extent, but due to the fact that no one is specifically keyed in as the Master of the house they're not working at full capacity.

"Sirius, if you would," Regulus gestures for his brother to approach the gates. 

Sirius nods and takes a step until he's inches away from the metal bars of the gate. He pulls out a small dagger and cuts a straight line into his left palm, then grabs a hold of one of the bars with it. There is a moment of complete silence and stillness, then the bar glows as the wards absorb the given blood, and the gate swings open.

"I'll key the both of you in when we get inside. I'm freezing out here."

Regulus snorts but doesn't reply. He follows his brother and Remus inside the property, turning around briefly when the gate closes itself in his wake, then walks up the short path to the entrance of the house. His eyes roam over the yard and the sprawling garden filled with flower beds, hedges, fountains, and a small pond. If he isn't mistaken, he can also see some Quidditch Hoops in the distance; suddenly, his hands itch to wrap around a broom and soar through the sky. After all, Regulus hasn't flown since he graduated.

Sirius repeats his actions at the gate when they approach the front door, and after it glows as it recognizes Sirius as the Master of the house, they enter. It's warm inside, Regulus feeling relieved to be out of the unforgiving wind, so he unbuttons his cloak and hangs it up at the entrance then takes in his surroundings.

The room they're in is big, the space split between the small entrance area, the kitchen, and the living area. It's big enough not to be cramped while also being small and cozy. Regulus instantly feels at home.

He takes off his shoes, distracted, and starts walking, eager to see more. There is a door nestled in a corner, and he opens it to reveal a half-bath: a sink, a toilet, cabinets, and a mirror. Regulus closes the door and turns around, walking up the stairs which are in surprisingly good condition and don't creak at all. The first floor opens into a long hallway, with five doors on either side of it. He picks a direction and starts opening the doors, peering in to see what's inside. In total, there are three bedrooms: the master bedroom, which is the biggest, two smaller ones which will suit him and Harry just fine, and two bathrooms.

The rooms are sparsely furnished. Each room contains a bed, bedside table, a decently sized wardrobe, and a fireplace. They'll have to buy or replace furniture to suit each of their needs, but until they have the time this will do.

Satisfied with his inspection, Regulus closes the last door behind him and walks away, back to the stairs, where he runs into Sirius and Remus who are just climbing up.

"What do you think?" Sirius asks, eyes gleaming.

"I like it. Take a look for yourselves too," Regulus replies then climbs down the stairs, leaving the couple to their own examination.

Downstairs, Regulus looks around the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards, taking stock of appliances, crockery, pots and pans, gazing at the main fireplace which will host their Floo Connection, at the mantel where he can already see framed pictures of his family, of his son on his first day flying outside, his first scraped knee, his first day in primary school, then Hogwarts, days at the beach and on Holidays, birthdays and random moments of joy that deserve preserving forever in picture form.

Regulus' eyes cloud with tears at the pure happiness warming his chest. He blinks them away and the mental image goes with them, leaving the bare mantel in its place, but Regulus knows it's not really gone - it just hasn't happened yet. Suddenly, he knows that this is his home, his son's home, the place he'll grow up in until the day he moves out on his own, and he can't wait to bring Harry here, to start making memories in this little house nestled between the sea and the mountains, with sprawling gardens and thick forests.

When Sirius and Remus come down together, their smiles are all the confirmation Regulus needs. He nods and smiles back, and together they leave Newcastle for Wiltshire, to get ready for the last move they'll have to make for a long time.

The wind continues to howl, swaying naked trees back and forth, and rattling the windchimes on the porch, but the air seems warmer and the house seems brighter in the wake of the three's departure. The wards surrounding the property seem to be singing with pleasure, and the light on the porch turns on for the first time in years, letting everyone know the house has a Master again, and soon its walls will be sheltering childish shrieks of happiness, barking sounds of laughter, and all the warmth and joy it's been missing all this time.

"Sirius, watch out for Harry!"

"Of course I'm watching out for Harry! Hard to miss that messy noggin running around between my legs. This child wants to see me tripping up the stairs," Sirius complains.

"He does not," Remus rolls his eyes, taking one of the boxes stacked on top of each other in his fiancé's arms.

"Does too. Look at him, the imp. He's laughing."

Regulus straightens his back and emerges from the pile of boxes littering the kitchen. Harry is indeed running around, making a nuisance of himself, and laughing every time he manages to trip his godfather. Regulus suppresses a smile, trying to look stern.

"Harry, stop tripping your godfather. I can't have him moaning all day about bruises instead of unpacking."

"He's in my way, Daddy," Harry blinks up at him innocently. If he hadn't just seen the little menace causing havoc, Regulus might have even been inclined to believe him.

"Then make your way where Sirius isn't currently moving boxes around the house. Here, help me arrange our plates in the cupboard," Regulus beckons the boy to him, taking out a plate and holding it out to Harry.

The boy beams at him, toddling over to grab the plate, but not before turning around to stick his tongue out at Sirius.

"He's a menace! A Slytherin if I ever saw one," Sirius bemoans, glaring at his godson.

"I seem to remember you being the exact same way when we were children," Regulus points out. He watches Harry with a proud smile as the boy places the plate neatly on the shelf, his little tongue sticking out in concentration.

"He's got you there, love," Remus agrees.

"No one is on my side in this house! Traitors, the lot of you."

Regulus rolls his eyes while he hands Harry another plate and starts arranging the cutlery in the drawer. Sirius and Remus' voices drift away as they take the boxes upstairs and continue bickering there. He'll give them half an hour to themselves before he goes up there, because if he knows something it's that those two never finish their tasks when left alone for more than ten minutes. Honestly.

"Daddy, another!"

"Here you go, emerald," Regulus takes another plate from the stack and hands it over to the impatient toddler. Harry takes it carefully, understanding it's a fragile object that needs to be handled with care, and places it gently on top of the other two already sitting primly in the cupboard.

"Do you like the house, Harry?" Regulus asks, handing him another plate before moving on to arranging mugs, glasses, and teacups. There's a suspicious lack of bickering voices coming from upstairs and he narrows his eyes, knowing he'll have to cockblock his brother soon if he wants the house to be habitable by nightfall.

"Yep! It's nice and warm, and not like Draco's house."

"How so?"

There's a crash from upstairs and muffled swearing.

"Alright up there?" Regulus yells, halting his movements and setting down his favorite mug on the counter.

"We're okay! Don't worry! Don't come up!" Sirius yells back, voice a bit strangled.

"If I come up there in half an hour and you haven't even started unpacking you can sleep in the woods!" Regulus threatens then resumes his task. "Sorry about that, love. You were saying our house isn't like Draco's. How is that?"

He can see Harry biting his bottom lip in thought, his hands on his hips, and it's such an adorable sight Regulus wants to squish the boy's cheeks and never let go. He loves seeing Harry think before he speaks, always taking Regulus' questions and suggestions into consideration before he expresses his feelings. He's a very open and honest child, a bit above average in intelligence for his age, and Regulus couldn't be prouder. Call him petty or arrogant, but he wants his son to be above all of those stuffy Purebloods' children, to show them how extraordinary the son of a Muggleborn and two Bloodtraitors can be.

"Draco's house is big and empty and cold, even when Dobby makes fires in the rooms," Harry finally articulates. "And it takes me forever to find you when I wanna show you my rocks and flowers."

Regulus chuckles and fixes the winter honeysuckle in his hair to prevent it from falling off. It's the latest floral gift from his son, and he adores it. He's secretly taken to collecting all the flowers Harry gives him after they're unwearable, and pressing them between the pages of his favorite books. The rocks, he conjures glass boxes for them and places them inside to start a collection.

Harry, of course, has no idea. He thinks Regulus throws the flowers away when they start to wilt, so he always brings him new ones to wear in his hair. Regulus doesn't plan on letting him know any time soon.

"Well, you won't have that problem here. Tilly can always bring you to me if you're playing outside and it's too far away from the house. And our rooms are next to each other, so I'll always be near you."

"I know, Daddy. You're always there when I need you," Harry beams, holding up his hands to receive another plate.

Regulus hands another one over, feeling a wide smile stretching his face. His heart feels full, bursting with love and pride - pride in himself, that he's raised such a wonderful child, that he's managed to do it with love and care and that Harry knows how loved he is and that he's never on his own. Something Regulus never had growing up, at least not when it came to his parents. He only ever had Sirius, until he left too, and then he only had himself in a house of suffering and shadows at every corner.

Regulus is so grateful Harry will never know that pain and loneliness. That he'll grow up in a warm house filled with light and colors and laughter, and his punishments will be extra chores or loss of privileges like flying, instead of beatings and starvation and isolation. Harry knows love and trust and companionship. Harry knows family.

Another crash rattles the house, making Regulus roll his eyes.

"Alright, I'm coming up there! And you'd better be decent cause I'm bringing Harry with me!"

Harry giggles and takes his hand as they start climbing the stairs carefully, Harry taking one at a time. Even if it's slower and it takes some effort on his part, Harry has been adamant in the last week that he is a big boy and can walk on his own, so he's been refusing to be carried by anyone anywhere. Regulus allows it, knowing Harry is aware he's not allowed to climb up or down stairs without supervision, and knowing it's important to his development.

Harry is turning out to be quite the independent little thing and Regulus couldn't be prouder.

When they finally reach the first floor, Sirius sticks his head out of the master bedroom, looking sheepish.

"So, about those boxes..."

"I'll turn you into a desk lamp if you don't stop fooling around and start unpacking," Regulus threatens, pointing his wand at his brother meaningfully.

"Bullshit, you're not good enough at Transfiguration."

"Try me. Wanting fresh sheets to put on my bed tonight can be a really good motivator to learn."

"If you don't know how to take things out of boxes, I can help, Padfoot! It's easy," Harry boasts, clapping his hands.

"Er, that's okay, Harry. Remus and I've got it. You go back and help Daddy with the kitchen. You don't want him to struggle on his own, now do you?"

It works like a charm. Harry instantly frowns and turns to face Regulus, looking him up and down as if assessing how likely he is to manage to unpack some bowls on his own. Seemingly reaching the conclusion that his Daddy is quite incompetent and helpless, Harry takes Regulus' hand again and starts tugging.

"C'mon, Daddy, let's go. I have to help you."

Regulus raises a sardonic eyebrow at Sirius, who grins impishly and shoos him away with his hand.

"You do, don't you? What would I do without you, Harry," Regulus deadpans.

"Exactly, let's go."

Sirius laughs. "Have fun. And keep an eye on him, Harry! He's old and gets tired easily. He might fall asleep while putting spoons away."

"Sirius, you little-"

"Oh no! Daddy, you didn't tell me you were old! Let's go, now, we don't have much time. What if you die soon?"

Regulus chokes on a surprised snort. "Harry, love, I don't think I'm dying any time soon. But let's leave before your godfather does, possibly at my hands."

He lets himself be tugged back down by an eager Harry, ignoring Sirius and Remus' howling laughter behind the now closed door. He'll get his revenge on those two soon enough. After all, Harry is due for a bath tonight, and they all know how he likes to levitate his bath water and drop it on unsuspecting people. Yes, he'll be avenged soon.

The next few days pass in a blur, if Regulus is being honest. They settle in the new house, buy some extra furniture here and there, and explore the grounds of the property.

It's still too cold for Harry to spend longer than an hour or two outside, especially given the colder weather compared to Wiltshire. Even so, Regulus takes him on walks outside the house every day, and together, they explore the dozens of garden hedges, inspect the frozen pond, and play catch by running around the numerous fountains littering the yard.

After they set up their Floo, Regulus takes Harry over to Malfoy Manor to spend the day with Draco. When he comes back home, the house is empty - Sirius and Remus have decided it's time to start preparing for the wedding, so they're out looking into possible venues and all that organizational stuff that Regulus cannot be bothered with.

With nothing better to do, and to take his mind off questions like 'Is Harry doing okay?', 'Has he eaten yet?', 'Does he miss me?', Regulus rifles through his old school trunk and emerges victorious with his Nimbus 1500. Even if he hasn't flown this broom for more than three years, his hands caress the well groomed, wooden handle with familiarity, expertly going over the slopes and bristles of the broom.

After some more rifling, he also finds the first Snitch he ever caught as Seeker at Hogwarts. Regulus looks at it for a moment, memories of that match flashing before his eyes, remembering how free and weightless he'd felt as he urged his broom closer and closer, how his chest had burst with adrenalin and victorious pride when his fist had closed around the struggling golden ball, effectively winning the match against Ravenclaw.

He comes out of the memory with a smile and drops the Snitch in his pocket. Closing the trunk, Regulus gets to his feet with his broom in hand, and goes outside, where the wind is blowing gently for once and the sun is finally warming up the earth, even if it's very weak.

Regulus puts on his Quidditch gloves, ties up his hair in a tight ponytail, then releases the Snitch before mounting his broom.

His stomach swoops as soon as his feet stop touching the ground and a huge smile breaks out on his face at the feeling of being in the air, suspended in weightlessness with only his Nimbus to keep him afloat.

The Snitch zooms past his face teasingly for a second before darting away. Regulus watches it carefully as it arches down and disappears behind some bushes near the small forest a few yards away, then he smirks, adjusting his grip, and takes off after it.

"Had fun?"

Regulus barely hears Sirius' question through the pounding of his heart and the roaring in his ears but he smiles and nods as he dismounts his broom. His hair came loose at some point during his fifth or seventh go at releasing and catching the Snitch, so it's windswept and tangled in places, his hair tie nowhere to be found. His back and thighs are a bit sore, but pleasantly so. Regulus has never felt more alive than he does in this moment.

"Well, c'mon back inside, Remus is making some tea. You can get cleaned up and join us," Sirius smiles.

"Sure, let's go," Regulus agrees, following his brother back to the house. He discards his shoes at the entrance, salutes Remus, then hurries upstairs. Once inside, he props up his Nimbus next to his wardrobe, undresses and steps into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the sweat he's accumulated outside.

He's just put on a pair of trousers and a shirt and is in the process of toweling his hair dry when Sirius calls out for him.

"What is it?" Regulus yells back.

"You have a visitor. You'd better come down," Sirius replies, sounding disgruntled.

A moment of confusion passes as Regulus tries to figure out who it might be and why it would displease Sirius, when it hits him.

Severus.

Fuck. He totally forgot he invited Severus over today. He was supposed to let Sirius know to vacate the house for a few hours, but now Severus is here and Regulus can't just kick either of them out.

Cursing under his breath, Regulus throws his towel carelessly on the bed and rushes down the stairs. Severus is standing ramrod straight in the living area, while Remus is at the counter pouring tea, his body language stiff, clearly uncomfortable. Sirius is leaning against the other side of the counter, arms crossed, glaring at Severus so hard you'd think he's trying to disintegrate him with his eyes alone.

"Severus! You're here early," Regulus wheezes slightly, feeling awkward.

"I finished my classes early because of an accident with the fifth year Hufflepuffs and did not think you would mind. Clearly, I was mistaken," Severus replies, staring right back at Sirius.

"Care to tell me what he's doing here, Reg?" his brother questions frostily.

Regulus rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "Er, I might have forgotten to mention I invited him over for some tea. I swear I was going to tell you but I was busy with Harry's stomach ache the other day and then I just kind of... forgot."

"I can leave," Severus offers, finally looking at him instead of Sirius.

"I don't think that's necessary," Remus speaks up. He's finally finished with the tea, though Regulus suspects his brother-in-law just ran out of things to fuss over to appear busy. "Is it, Sirius?"

Sirius turns his head towards his fiancé and the two of them seem to be having some sort of silent conversation for a moment. Regulus waits, praying his brother won't cause a scene, and it pays off when Sirius looks at him and nods stiffly.

"We're going to Cissy's. We'll bring Harry back with us later when we return," he says and pushes away from the counter, brushing past Severus and disappearing into the Floo without another word or backward glance.

Regulus watches his brother with guilty eyes, wondering if he should prepare himself for a screaming match when he returns.

"I'll talk to him," Remus puts a hand on his shoulder, looking into his eyes. "It's a complicated situation, and there are a lot of unspoken and unresolved issues here, so it might take a while for him to act normal around Sna- Severus. But Narcissa and I will talk to him. You have nothing to worry about."

Regulus sighs heavily in relief. "Thank you," he closes his eyes for a moment, then offers Remus a grateful smile and waves him off until he, too, disappears with a green swirl of flames.

He shifts his eyes away from the fireplace to Severus and offers him a weak smile.

"Sorry about that. Are you okay? Want some tea?"

Severus looks at him steadily for a moment, and, when he finds what he's looking for, finally relaxes, and walks over to the couch to take a seat.

"I'm fine, just tired. Tea is fine."

Regulus nods and picks up two of the cups Remus prepared, bringing them to the couch where he places them on the coffee table. He sinks into the cushions with a tired sigh, rejoicing in the relief in his sore muscles, and turns his head to look at his friend.

"Tell me about your day."

Severus smiles, clearly exhausted, but starts telling him about his classes and the four accidents he's stopped just in time today until the fifth one happened before he could intervene and sent a Hufflepuff to the Hospital Wing with boils on their hands and uncontrollable hair growth in their eyebrows.

Regulus lets him unload his problems on him, listening to that familiar baritone complain about infuriating school children with no talent for the finer art of Potions and no respect for his classroom, but doesn't miss the 'blink and you miss it' fondness underneath the scathing words that wasn't there the last time they spoke about Severus' experiences as a teacher.

It brings Regulus comfort to know that his presence in Severus' life has actually had a positive impact.

"I recall you mentioning something about the... child having an upset stomach earlier," Severus hedges a while later, after a short lull in conversation.

Regulus smirks, looking at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "Yes? I did mention that."

When he doesn't offer any more details, as Severus obviously was hoping to receive, his friend scowls. Regulus doesn't even try to fight the amusement from showing on his face.

"If you want answers, ask, Severus. I know it's not the Slytherin way, but I'm tired of subterfuge and manipulations and trickery. Come out and say whatever you want to say. Or don't. It's your choice."

Severus seems to be debating with himself for a long moment. Eventually, his need for knowledge wins out, and he sighs, defeated.

"Is he okay? Do you require potions? If you do, tell me and I will brew them for you. Anything you get off the market is trash and you know it, the boy will never get better with those sub-par concoctions," Severus sneers.

"He's fine," Regulus laughs, unashamed. "Narcissa lent me a vial of Stomach Soother she got from you a while ago, and Harry got better. But thank you for your concern."

"I am not concerned. Simply... invested in people not getting scammed by the inferior so called Potions Masters that sell rubbish at every street corner," Severus sniffs.

"Sure, whatever you say, Sev," Regulus pats his arm mockingly. "You know, you can ask about Harry just because you're interested in his well-being. You can show human emotions, even towards James Potter's son, without losing your street credibility," he laughs.

Severus glares at him so hard, Regulus is surprised to find himself not on fire.

"What a ridiculous notion."

"Indeed? Well, in that case I suppose you don't want to go with me and Harry this Friday to pick Potions ingredients from our forest."

A beat of silence and then, "I never said that."

"You'll have to be nice to Harry, though. And keep an eye on him so he doesn't wander off or touch harmful plants. And accept his gifts if he gives you flowers and rocks he picks up along the way. And listen to him babble about everything and anything under the sun," Regulus sing-songs.

"That is... acceptable. I can survive that for the sake of Potions ingredients."

Regulus smiles to himself, hiding the expression by taking a sip of tea.

"Wonderful. Harry can't wait to meet you."

"Wait, you already told him about me?" Severus asks, alarmed.

"Of course I did, silly. You're my closest - and if we're being honest here, only - friend. I told him you have even longer hair than me and he can't wait to braid it for you and put flowers in the braids, so make sure to shampoo your hair very well before Friday."

Severus simply thumps the back of his head on the sofa and sinks further down. Regulus smiles, then maneuvers himself on the couch until he's lying down, his feet propped up on Severus' lap, and sighs contentedly.

"Love you, Sev."

"I can't wait to chop you into Potions ingredients."

The sound of various potions bubbling in their cauldrons, mumbled instructions here, muffled swears or panicked mantras there, fill the dungeons on a warmer than usual day in late January. Severus picks up another NEWT Level essay and begins grading it, graciously ignoring his class's increasing panic as they're undoubtedly messing up their potions yet again.

"Uh, Professor Snape?"

"What is it, Mr. Weasley?" Severus asks without taking his eyes off the parchment in front of him. He crosses off an entire paragraph with red ink, then writes suggestions for better source materials in the margins. With any luck, the student will actually read them and realize their mistake and do better next time. Severus won't hold his breath.

"Could you help me with my potion? I think I did everything right but it's the wrong color and I don't know how to fix it."

The boy's classmates gasp, rather dramatically in Severus' opinion, as soon as William Weasley asks his question. Severus sighs, puts down his quill, and rises from behind his desk to approach the redhead's station. He bends over the cauldron and examines the potion critically, takes a subtle whiff of it, stirs the contents a few times, then straightens and looks at his student.

"Did you add the shrivelfig before or after the boomslang skin?"

"Before, sir."

"And how many times did you stir afterwards and in what direction?"

"Three times, clockwise. And one time counter clockwise. Sir."

Severus clicks his tongue in disapproval. "The textbook is wrong, which is why I always write the instructions on the board. It's two times each for clockwise and counter clockwise."

"Oh," Mr. Weasley replies, scratching his cheek in puzzlement. "My bad, Professor. I'll pay better attention next time."

"See that you do. Here, add this to correct the potion and proceed as per the instructions," Severus says, handing the boy an adder's fork, who takes it gratefully and dumps it in the cauldron. "Now leave it to dissolve for five minutes before you continue."

"Thank you, Professor," the boy grins at him which makes Severus uncomfortable for reasons unknown to him. Why should he feel out of sorts because a bratty Gryffindor smiled at him and thanked him? It's preposterous.

Severus sniffs and turns away, going back to his desk. He picks his quill back up, ready to go back to grading, but the rest of the whelps are still sitting around gaping at him or Weasley, and the dozens of tiny little eyes boring into him make his skin prickle with irritation.

"What. Is. It," Severus hisses through gritted teeth, glaring at the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

No one says a word.

"I think they're shocked I asked for help. Or that you helped me. Could be both," the Weasley child pipes up cheerily while keeping an eye on his potion. Severus notes with approval that as soon as the five minute countdown stops, he begins the next step as per the written instructions.

"I believe you have your own potions to worry about. Desist or I shall deduct points from each and every one of you. I have not helped any of you so far because you have not asked for it. I am not a servant to wait on you hand and foot. You have mouths and tongues to speak if you are struggling. Now back to work."

Severus picks his quill back up and starts correcting essays once more as silence settles over the classroom and the children go back to their cauldrons. Another five minutes pass like this before there is a bit of a commotion. Right when Severus is preparing to lift his head up and deduct points from whoever is disturbing the class, another voice calls his name.

"P-professor Snape? My potion smells bad, c-could you help m-me?" Miss Wagtail stutters.

"Let's see," Severus sighs again, abandoning his essays yet again in favor of helping his student. He assesses the potion quickly and instructs her on what went wrong and how to fix it, being awarded with a shaky smile and a stuttered thank you for his efforts. He nods stiffly and prepares to go back to his desk but suddenly every student in the room raises their hand, asking for help.

Severus takes a moment to sigh internally, cursing Regulus for nagging him into becoming a better person, then starts making rounds, going over each potion and explaining their mistakes. By the time the class is finished and the students have bottled their potions for him to grade, his throat is parched from so much talking.

For the first time since Severus became the Potions Professor at Hogwarts, every student gets a passing grade, more than a quarter of them even getting Os for their efforts. He dreads the moment this news breaks out all over the school, and students actually start asking for his help. And here he thought becoming a good person would be rewarding. Blast Regulus Black and his nagging.

"Daddy! I don't want the green scarf."

"Okay, then. Which one do you want instead?"

"The pink one! It has flowers on it!"

"Very well, emerald. Here you go."

Severus hears the interaction from the other side of the door of Regulus' house when he Apparates on his front stoop. The Potter brat speaks rather well for a 30-month-old, Severus will give him that. And he doesn't sound arrogant or annoying, he has to admit. Certainly nothing like his dratted father or godfather. Then again, he really should have expected better from a child raised by Regulus.

Severus steels himself and knocks on the door then. Regulus calls for him to wait a moment, then the door is pulled open to reveal his friend, dark hair in disarray, cheeks flushed. He may not be harboring feelings for Regulus anymore, but Severus can never deny the younger Black's beauty, especially not now. It's no wonder his teenage self found his sexual awakening in Regulus.

"Severus, hi! Just a moment, we're putting on our boots by ourselves today, so it might take a minute."

"'We'? Do not tell me you have turned into one of those parents," Severus sneers without heat.

"I knooow," Regulus whines, leaning against the door dramatically. "I became the thing I swore to destroy but alas. I'm an annoying dad who refers to his child as 'we' and eats sweets behind his back because said child isn't allowed sweets but his father certainly is. Take it up to the Wizengamot and have me sent to Azkaban."

"If only it were that easy," Severus drawls, amused.

"All done, love? Need help with the beanie? No? Alright, let's go," Regulus beckons, straightening his hair. He holds his hands out in front of him for a moment before they're grabbed by small, chubby hands. They're followed by tiny legs walking gracelessly but rather steadily for his age, then the entire toddler stands in front of Severus.

Unbidden, the first thing he notices is the eyes. Green, green, green. Round and big, long and dark eyelashes framing them, those green eyes stare at him in wonder and excitement, and for a moment Severus is nine again and meeting Lily Evans for the first time.

"Hi!" the child greets enthusiastically, waving a tiny hand rhythmically in front of him, and Severus is 23 again and back in the present, the image of Lily pushed back into the past where it belongs.

"Hello," Severus replies, feeling awkward about interacting with a toddler. What should he even say? How does one behave around a child so small?

Regulus seems to be smothering laughter, so Severus sends him a sharp glare to shut him up. Unfortunately, it achieves nothing.

"So you're Sev? I'm Harry! Daddy telled me all about you! Wow, your hair is really long and pretty. Do you want me to braid it for you? Cissa taughted me. Did you know I'm almost three years old? Daddy said I'm really smart because not everybody talks so good and I guess he's right because Draco is older than me but he don't even know the ABCs!"

"Harry, love, calm down. Breathe. Let Severus answer your questions before asking another, okay?" Regulus laughs but Severus is too busy staring at the pouting toddler. Did this child just speak so much and so well? Grammar mistakes notwithstanding.

"Yes, he's a little prodigy!" Regulus beams proudly, having accurately read the astonishment on Severus' face. "Don't worry, you'll get used to him."

"Erm, yes, my name is Severus," he finally answers the child, looking at him quizzically. "And we shall see how you behave on this outing. If it is satisfactory, I will allow you to braid my hair."

"Yay! I'll be the bestest boy, I swear," Potter, or rather Harry, promises solemnly.

"Wonderful. Let's go," Regulus tugs his son outside fully and closes the door behind him, then they start making their way towards the forest.

Severus walks alongside the duo, Harry in the middle of the two men. Severus tells Regulus about his day then listens to his friend's recount of his own day while walking, admiring the view and watching Harry swing from Regulus' hand before dropping to the ground to walk on his own again. He's a peculiar child, Severus thinks, and very energetic. Even so, he's well behaved, not once interrupting the adults' conversation rudely or trying to get their attention in an obnoxious way. He keeps to himself, humming and singing as he walks between them, occasionally bending down to pick up tiny rocks or twigs to play with.

They find quite a few useful ingredients for Potions in the forest. Severus is surprised to see how attentive the child is when instructed on what is safe to touch and what should be left alone, and even more so when Harry handles the few plants he is allowed to touch with the utmost care. Not even some of his fifth years treat their ingredients like this.

"Told you he's something else," Regulus interrupts his musings, smugly watching his child.

Severus hums, intrigued eyes on Harry as well.

"Maybe we'll get along after all," he concedes.

"Sev! Can I put this in your hair?" Harry calls out, waving a flower back and forth. Severus walks over to him, bends down to be eye level with the child, and examines it for a second.

Harry keeps bouncing in place, clearly unable to contain his excitement, and something softens in Severus. Damn it all to hell.

"Yes, you may."

Harry beams, face full of joy, and takes a step closer to place the flower behind Severus' ear. Unfortunately, he steps on a rock and loses his footing, tumbling forward, but Severus catches him deftly in his arms and steadies him. Heart pounding in alarm, Severus checks Harry's foot, fearing a sprain, and also expecting some tears from the boy, but Harry straightens up and grins at him.

"Thank you!" he says, then places the flower in Severus' hair carefully and steps back. Harry admires his handiwork for a second, nods to himself, and turns around, going back to his flower picking.

Wordlessly, Severus gets back up and turns towards Regulus, dumbfounded.

"He bounces back quickly. And he knows I'm always nearby to catch him if he falls or to heal his scrapes, so it doesn't bother him," Regulus explains nonchalantly. It's now that Severus notices that Regulus has his wand in hand, and realizes the man is always watching out and ready to intervene if Harry needs assistance.

"You're a good father, Regulus," Severus says, meaning every word. After all, he should know - his father was as bad as they come.

"Thank you. Let's get back now, it's time for dinner and Harry needs time to braid your hair before you leave anyway."

"Yes, let's."

They collect Harry and turn back towards the house, the sun beginning to set up ahead. Harry asks Regulus to tighten the pink scarf around his neck when the air grows colder and the wind starts to pick up, then offers Severus his hand to hold when they leave the forest behind.

"So you don't get lost!" the toddler explains and Severus finds it hard to deny him. Thus, Severus walks the length of Regulus' garden holding hands with Harry Potter and sending subtle Warming Charms when the toddler starts shivering, surprisingly not dreading the idea of getting his hair braided by James Potter's biological spawn. Maybe he should check if the world is ending soon.

Nimble hands run a brush over long, black hair repeatedly. A soft humming is slipping past blood red lips, as eerie and unsettling as it is beautiful, while sharp, cold eyes track the brush's movements through the mirror encased in the vanity. When the last of the tangles have been done away with, the figure takes hold of the long tresses and twists them up in a confusing manner, obviously long since learned by heart by the hands twisting the hair in place, and before long they're arranged in an intricate but sensible hairdo atop her head.

The woman examines herself carefully in the mirror for a moment before nodding to herself. She flicks her hand at her brush, wandlessly cleaning it of any stray hairs, then moves to put it back in its place gracefully.

A soft pop interrupts the movement, and she halts, eyes narrowing at the house elf bowing to her through the mirror.

"Mistress has asked Kreacher to look into Master Regulus and Kreacher has done so."

"Well?" she snaps, her beautiful, still yet youthful features twisted in an ugly sneer of contempt, not betraying her almost 60 years of age.

"Master Regulus is back in England, Mistress. Kreacher can sense him and Kreacher has heard rumors in the Alley. But Master's location is veiled from Kreacher, Mistress," the elf bows again, cowering at Walburga's feet, no doubt awaiting his punishment for failing to locate her youngest son.

"Useless," Walburga spits, glaring hatefully at her most loyal - and only - house elf. "Get out of my sight, you bothersome creature, before I sever your head and mount it on the wall."

"Yes, Mistress. Kreacher goes," the elf bows one last time before disappearing with the same pop he arrived, leaving Walburga staring at herself in the mirror, a bone shattering grip on her hair brush.

"So this is how you want to play this, dear Regulus. You think you can just throw everything I've done for you in my face, disgrace the name of the House of Black by helping the cause of those Mudbloods and Blood Traitors, and get away with it," she hisses through gritted teeth, gaze locked on her reflection yet unseeing all the same. It's another dark haired figure she sees before her mind's eye, a figure she longs to wrap in her possessive grip and punish in equal measure.

Walburga stands up swiftly, wand in hand, and sweeps out of the room furiously. As she approaches the Ritual Room of Grimmauld Place, her lips twist in a cruel smile. "Fear not, my son, for I shall find you. And you will be begging for my forgiveness when I'm through with you."

The door bangs shut behind her, the sound loud and ominous in the quiet of the Black Townhouse. A few rooms away, scrubbing pots and pans in the kitchen, Kreacher cries softly, quietly, for fear of his Mistress overhearing him, "forgive Kreacher, Master Regulus, forgive Kreacher for he cannot disobey Mistress, not even for kind, wonderful Master."

Four hundred miles away, Regulus shudders suddenly in the middle of stoking the fire in the living room, as a rush of magic runs through him. He puts a hand on the mantelpiece to support himself, feeling his legs almost give out beneath him before the feeling dissipates as quickly as it came.

"I don't like the feel of that," Sirius says, and Regulus turns to look at his brother sitting ramrod straight on the couch, having obviously felt the same thing.

Regulus straightens up and approaches the living room window on shaky legs, looking out over the grounds with calculating eyes.

"Mother has apparently reached her limit on her patience and decided to track us down," Regulus agrees. He tries to steady his trembling hands, taking a deep breath and holding it in for a moment. It doesn't help, but it's the only thing he can do.

"Think she's succeeded?"

"She'd have blasted the door off its hinges if she had," he replies, though doubt lingers behind his words. He hopes he's right. "But it won't be long until she is successful. Grimmauld Place houses too many Blood Rituals that could help her for her not to be."

"Let her try," Regulus can hear Sirius snarl. "She has no business butting in where she isn't wanted."

Regulus turns away from the window with a sigh and approaches his brother on the couch. He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, feeling the stress coursing through his veins. His Mother barging in is the last thing he needs or wants right now, and Sirius' murderuous tendencies regarding her aren't helping any.

"We both know it isn't as simple as that. Mother has always been controlling of us, me especially. She realized early on you were a lost cause and allowed you to stay away because she hoped you'd get yourself killed fighting Death Eaters. But me? She worked hard to ensure I'd be loyal, so I can't imagine her being too happy that it was all for nothing."

"That psychotic bitch! I'll kill her myself," Sirius spits, rising from his seat with clenched fists, as if he wants to track their Mother down right now and take action. Regulus can feel the headache building up.

"You will do no such thing!" he snaps. He rubs his throbbing temples for a moment then heaves a sigh. "We'll ward the house as best as we can and hope she can't find us. And if she does, we'll call the Aurors and have her charged for trespassing and assault. Just... calm yourself."

Sirius huffs but settles down, his foot tapping rhythmically against the floor the only sign of his continued agitation.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, emerald," Regulus answers wearily, tearing his hands away from his face reluctantly to face Harry. As he turns his head, he feels his eyes widen, mouth hanging open, and such a terrible fear squeezing his heart he expects to die any second now.

"Look! Burga woke me up and gave me this pretty rock! She says she's your momma."

Regulus' eyes travel from the horrible sight of Walburga Black holding Harry's hand in the middle of his own living room, to the round, smooth stone clutched in Harry's hands. His heart jumps in his throat and he makes to rush to his son's side but his Mother holds up a warning hand and stops him in his tracks.

"Tch tch, Reggie dear. Not another step from you. We wouldn't want your emerald to get hurt, now would we?" she grins, sharp and cruel, then turns her gaze to Harry. "Show your daddy the rock grandma Burga gave you, dear."

"Look, Daddy! It has pretty drawings on it," Harry exclaims, showing Regulus the stone which indeed has drawings on it. Runes, to be exact. Regulus knows those runes all too well.

"What have you done?" Sirius snarls, and Regulus startles so badly at his brother's outburst he almost loses his footing. He forgot Sirius was even in the room.

"Oh, this? Nothing much. It'll just ensure the two of you sit down like the nice boys you are and listen to me until I'm done. After all, until I break the runes on the stone, any curse you shoot at me will hurt poor Harry twice as much," Mother pouts mockingly, sharp nails digging into Harry's hand for a second before relaxing again.

Regulus is trembling, fear and anger battling each other in his chest, but he can do nothing but watch and listen to his Mother's demands. He longs to grab Harry and Disapparate to the other half of the world, or lunge and wrap his hands around his Mother's throat and squeeze until he's certain she'll never lay a hand on his son ever again. But he knows she speaks the truth and there is nothing he can do. He won't risk Harry.

"Wonderful, let's sit down, boys. We have some things to discuss."

His Mother's bloodthirsty grin doesn't calm Regulus any, but he obeys her command and sits back down, resisting the urge to collapse on the couch. Sirius follows suit.

Walburga surveys her two sons shrewdly as she takes a seat with the Potter boy kneeling on the carpet near her feet, playing with the Ritual Stone she gave him. Her oldest is seething, rage boiling over in his eyes, and she doesn't doubt he'd have cursed her ten times over by now if it hadn't been for the little precaution she took. What surprises her, though, is seeing the same rage swirling in Regulus' eyes, brewing like a storm behind a calm facade.

Regulus has always been the most level headed of the two. He's always known to keep his mouth shut in front of his betters, to obey orders, to see his own weakness and allow the more experienced and powerful to make the decisions in his stead. Now, however, Walburga sees the same impertinence in his eyes that she thought she'd quashed before it could even bloom. This won't do. This won't do at all.

"What are you doing here? You have no right to barge in here, threaten Harry-"

"Sirius, be quiet," Regulus interrupts his older brother, voice soft yet commanding, his eyes never straying from Walburga for a moment. She narrows hers in turn, a warning that he should avert his gaze since she never gave him permission to look her in the eyes, but he refuses to budge. The ungrateful whelp raises his chin defiantly in silence.

"I'm here for your brother, not you," Walburga says, not once looking at her eldest son. As far as she's concerned, he's no son of hers. He's a failure and a disgrace, nothing more.

"And what business do you have with me, Mother? For that matter, how did you even find me?"

Walburga's eyes flash and she smiles smugly, leaning back in her chair.

"I had Kreacher search for you, but the idiot was unable to tell me more than that you were back in the country," she replies, crossing her legs and arranging her hands one on top of the other in her lap, her wand tucked between them. "Of course, I wasn't going to let the matter lie, we have unfinished business, dear. So I used a lock of your hair that I've always known would come in handy one day, and tracked you down with a ritual."

Her son doesn't seem surprised by her words, so Walburga assumes he felt the magic of the ritual settling over him and his Traitor brother when she found their location. He continues to look at her unwaveringly even as she can see the white knuckle grip he has on his wand. She just knows he's itching to curse her.

"As for my business with you, you know very well what it is. Didn't even have the decency to face me like the so-called man you are, not even a note left to explain yourself. I had to find out you'd betrayed our cause and helped Dumbledore's filth's side of the war from the Daily Prophet!"

"I was under the impression that I was of age and free to make my own decisions without consulting you, Mother."

Anger surges through her and Walburga snaps, "you were not! Of age you may be, but an adult you are not! You're just a brat, weak and foolish. I've done everything to ensure your success and survival, to see you at the Dark Lord's side, fighting against those disgusting Mudbloods, Half Breeds, and Blood Traitors! And this is what you do with it," she points an accusatory finger at the child on the floor. "Take in the Dark Lord's downfall and raise it as your own," she laughs cruelly, hollowly. "Have it call you Daddy, when you should have snuffed its life the second you laid eyes on the abomination."

Walburga's rage is so encompassing, so all consuming, she fails to see the same flame fanning in her youngest's eyes with every word she utters, until Regulus is off his feet and his hand is wrapped around her throat. His fingers don't squeeze the soft flesh, but the threat is there, and the hatred in his eyes is so potent it freezes Walburga for a moment. She has never seen Regulus like this before, never seen him take action, or show such emotion.

"You will shut your mouth and cease to utter another word regarding Harry unless you want to stop breathing, Mother," Regulus hisses coldly.

"Try it," Walburga taunts, smiling recklessly at her son. She's enjoying this more than she expected - riling Regulus up and seeing him so unlike the cowardly boy she knew is terribly exciting. If only he'd shown such passion and hatred on the battlefield when he'd been tasked to strike down Muggles and Mudbloods. "I'll gladly die knowing I'm taking your precious emerald with me."

Her words give Regulus pause as he seems to remember the Stone. His eyes flicker towards the whelp on the ground for a moment, then he's staring at her again, gaze intent and calculating.

"Very well," Regulus releases her throat slowly, reluctantly, then takes a step back, and another, until the back of his knees hits the couch. He settles back down, gaze wavering from Walburga to the child and back again.

The Black matriarch flicks her wand to straighten her clothes then takes her seat back with a smug smile. "Now then. On to business, shall we?"

Regulus shoots her a venomous look, but Walburga graciously ignores it.

"What is it you want exactly, Mother? What did you hope to accomplish by coming here?"

"Do you really have to ask, Regulus? I've come to end this foolishness and take you home, where you belong. You're the future of the House of Black, as disappointing as you've turned out to be, but it's nothing I can't fix. A few weeks under my wand should straighten you right up."

"You're not laying a finger on him, you bitch," Sirius snarls, and Regulus barely restrains him where he sits. Walburga turns a bored eye on him and sniffs disdainfully. 

"Like I would ever lower myself to actually touching him to discipline him. You should know best after all, Sirius Orion."

The dig has Sirius' eyes flashing, which amuses Walburga immensely. She smiles cruelly at him, enjoying seeing him struggling to remain seated and not attack her where she stands.

"Mother, I will not return to Grimmauld Place, or anywhere else, with you. I have a life here, a son, a home, none of which includes or has room for you. So kill this silly notion you have that you own me or have any say in my life, and leave."

Walburga regards Regulus for a moment, observing him properly for once. He looks as Pureblood as ever, something which she attributes to her good genes, but the disgustingly Muggle clothes he's dressed in are tainting the image. His posture is rigid, tense like a coil ready to spring at any moment, and she can see the barely contained rage in his eyes, in the clenching of his fists and the gritting of his teeth.

"How dare you," she whispers, voice cold and quiet. "After everything I've done for you."

"So you keep saying. But tell me, Mother, what have you done for me exactly? Abused me, physically and mentally, destroyed my self esteem, my sense of self, made me dependent on you. Sold me off to a madman who tortured his own followers for sport, and ruined my chances at a normal life! You're nothing, Walburga Black. Especially to me," Regulus spits, venom dripping from his tongue, mouth twisted in a disgusted sneer.

Walburga reels back from the force of his words, clutching her wand angrily, and she stands up so fast she knocks her chair over. She doesn't notice it, for her focus is elsewhere. Her eyes zero in on the Potter brat, whose vivid green eyes are glued to her now, no doubt startled by her sudden motion, and she levels her wand at him.

"This is the reason you've abandoned me! This wretched being has twisted your mind and stolen you from me!" Walburga yells hysterically, a mad look in her eyes as she looks at Potter.

"Mother! Lower your wand right this instant," Regulus commands, voice trembling.

"No! I will blast him apart in millions of pieces and you'll be mine again! I haven't wasted years of my life raising your ungrateful ass for you to start playing house with the Boy Who Bloody Lived and your disgrace of a brother! I will not die alone in that wretched house with that blasted elf sniveling around me! I will not!"

Hysteria is evident in Walburga's erratic movements, her trembling wand arm, her wide, crazed eyes, and her shrill voice. She points her wand at Potter's face again and starts uttering the Killing Curse. Before she can finish, though, the red light of a Stunner races towards her and she falls to the ground in a heap, wand clattering on the wooden floor.

Regulus stares in shock at the prone form of his Mother on the ground, heart beating erratically in his chest. He feels hot and cold at the same time and he thinks he might collapse any second now.

With great difficulty, he manages to tear his gaze away from the stunned Walburga, and turns it towards the doorway, where the Stunner came from, and finds Severus, wand outstretched.

"Severus? What? How?"

"I was coming for a cup of tea and the chance to complain about my day, but I think you might have beaten me when it comes to shitty days," Severus drawls and pockets his wand at last, walking over to Walburga and kicking her wand away.

Regulus nods, numb, then searches for Harry with his gaze. His heart stutters in his chest when he sees his son fallen to the floor, unconscious. He rushes over and checks for a pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when he finds one.

"He's just stunned," Regulus says, to no one in particular, voice relieved but still concerned. "We need to have Walburga break the runes on the Ritual Stone, though."

He turns to look at his brother and Severus, the former wearing a contemplative look on his face.

"Leave it to me," Severus says quietly. "Black, take your brother and godson upstairs and don't come down until I call for you."

Regulus understands what that implies, so he doesn't put up a fuss. He gets to his feet with Harry in his arms and follows a surprisingly unprotesting Sirius upstairs to Harry's bedroom. Regulus lays his son down on the bed and brushes some errant strands of hair away from his face, ignoring his own trembling hands.

"I'll kill her after the runes are broken," Sirius speaks up, drawing Regulus' attention away from his son.

"I want nothing more than to kill her with my bare hands, but Azkaban is the last thing either of us needs. We'll call the Aurors and they'll deal with her."

"I fucking hate her," Sirius spits, clenching his hands into fists, instead.

"Me too," Regulus sighs, feeling drained and exhausted.

A quarter of an hour later, Severus calls for them to come back down, so Regulus takes Harry in his arms again and descends the stairs carefully. His Mother is bound to her chair, her wand tucked in Severus' hair casually, and there's a pallor to her complexion that wasn't there before. Regulus couldn't care less what Severus inflicted upon her to get her to break the runes, and a small part of him feels jealous he couldn't be the one to do the inflicting.

"Give her the Stone," Severus nods towards Walburga. Regulus lays Harry down on the couch and retrieves the Stone from his son's hand, tossing it at a now unbound Walburga.

She catches it with a glare then places the Stone between her palms and closes her eyes, muttering the incantation needed to break the connection between her and Harry. She hisses at the same time a flash of light can be seen from between her palms, then she opens them and lets the now rune-less Stone clatter to the ground.

"Is it done?" Sirius asks impatiently.

"One way to find out," Severus smirks hatefully at Walburga then fires off Stupefy at her before she can blink. She slumps in her chair, but Regulus pays her no more mind. Instead, he rushes over to Harry and casts Rennervate on him, then waits with bated breath as Harry's eyelids flutter for a moment before he gasps awake.

"Daddy? What happened?"

Regulus sobs and laughs in relief at the same time, and pulls his son in a tight embrace, his shoulders finally losing tension as he feels his son safe and sound in his arms. Around him, Severus binds Walburga back to her chair and Sirius fire-calls the Auror Department, but Regulus wouldn't care if Merlin himself came strolling in through the front door. All he cares about in this moment is his precious boy, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

"Alright, Mrs. Black, come with us," one of the Aurors urges, tugging on his Mother's arm urgently, trying to lead her to the Floo.

They've just finished interrogating the four of them about what happened, hearing how she got in their house and almost killed Harry, and how if it hadn't been for Severus arriving just in the nick of time she would have succeeded.

Regulus watches the woman who birthed him struggling against the Auror's hold, a disturbed gleam in her eyes as she twists and snarls.

"No! Release me, you filth! I am the Mistress of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, I will not be dragged to Azkaban like a common stray!"

"We are taking you to the Ministry's holding cells until your trial, Mrs. Black, not Azkaban," the other Auror sighs wearily, twirling her wand in a telling way - Regulus is sure the woman is one insult away from stunning his Mother for the third time today and levitating her through the Floo.

"Regulus! Do something! You can't allow these dogs to manhandle me like this!"

Regulus raises an incredulous eyebrow at his Mother. "You're lucky that's all I'm allowing them to do after you tried to murder my son, Mother. Now go quietly and await your trial."

"TRAITOR! MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD! YOU SHOULD HAVE DROWNED IN THAT LAKE, YOU USELESS FILTH!"

Regulus winces at the volume of her voice but her words no longer have any impact on him. He simply couldn't care less what this despicable woman thinks or has to say about him; not after pointing her wand at Harry and uttering the Killing Curse.

The female Auror seems to have lost her patience at the same time his Mother has finished her tirade. She whips her wand at Walburga and send a wordless Stupefy followed by a quick Levicorpus.

"Now did you really have to stun her?" her colleague laments, exasperated.

"What? My eardrums were beginning to protest," she shrugs, pocketing her wand. "Thank you for your statements, gentlemen. You will be notified about the date of her trial after it's been set, and at least one of you will probably be called in as witness, but you can send your legal representative if you don't wish to be present."

"Thank you, Auror Johnson, Auror Nettles," Regulus inclines his head at both Aurors in turn.

"Give her the dankest cell you have, would you?" Sirius pipes up, shooting their Mother a disgusted look.

"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Black," Auror Johnson quirks her lips in amusement then bids them goodbye. She levitates Walburga's stunned body over to the Fireplace and disappears in a swirl of green, followed by her colleague, Auror Nettles, shortly after.

"I hope she rots in Azkaban," Sirius mutters hatefully after he's closed the Floo Network.

"You and me both, Sirius," Regulus snorts, feeling exhausted to the bone. Harry is sleeping off the day's excitement in his bedroom, though Regulus has placed a Monitoring Charm on both him and the windows and door of his bedroom. Call him paranoid, but he learns from his mistakes.

"Indeed," Severus drawls from the kitchen where Regulus only now notices he has prepared tea and a plate of biscuits.

"Never thought I'd be so glad to see you, Snape. Thanks for the help," Sirius grunts as he swoops into the kitchen and steals a biscuit to munch on. Severus sends him a mild glare before levitating the platter of tea and biscuits over to the coffee table in the living room.

"I did it for Harrison, not you, Black," Severus sniffs.

"Don't be like that, Sev, you know his legal name is Harry," Regulus can feel his mouth slightly quirking up in a teasing smirk as he collapses into the couch and breathes in the scent of mango and orange tea.

"Too plebian for a child associated with me. I refuse to call him Harry."

"Be glad it's Harrison and not something more pretentious, like Hadrian or Harald," Sirius snorts from his cross-legged position on the floor. He grabs another biscuit which he shoves whole in his mouth, chewing obnoxiously, and Regulus can see Severus' lip curling in disgust out of the corner of his eye. He smiles to himself and closes his eyes, listening to his brother and friend's bickering as it lulls him into a state of not quite sleep.

Not even half an hour later, Regulus is jolted awake by incessant knocking on the door. He peels his eyes open tiredly to glare in the direction of the sound but makes no move to rise. Instead, he watches as Sirius scrambles to his feet to open the door then promptly stumbles back as the might of the Black sisters almost bowls him over.

Narcissa and Andromeda make their way inside hurriedly, a sheepish looking Remus following more steadily behind them.

"Sorry, they strong-armed me into leaving the Library early because they couldn't enter the property and the Floo was closed."

"A little warning would have been nice," Sirius grumbles, massaging his foot, where the door had kicked him hard when Narcissa opened the door.

"Well, you could have told us dear Aunt Wally almost killed your godson in your own home, but we had to find out from Lucius who was at the Ministry when they brought her in, so I say we're even," Andromeda snaps without heat. Regulus winces for the thousandth time today, but sinks farther into the couch, hoping to evade their notice.

No such luck.

"And you! Your crazy mother breaks into your house and assaults your son and you don't even have the decency to send an owl," Narcissa rounds on him, hair in disarray and blue eyes electric with the worry and righteous fury inside.

"Calm yourself, woman, he has had a long day. He had just fallen asleep when you barged in here like a stampede of wild Hippogriffs," Severus snaps back at her before Regulus can even formulate a response. Warmth blossoms in his chest at the show of protectiveness and solidarity, and he squeezes Severus' hand in thanks.

Heaving himself into a seated position, Regulus turns to face his cousins with an apologetic grimace.

"It's been a tiring day, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd find out before I had a chance to tell you, so I'm sorry I worried you."

"You should be," Narcissa sniffs, put out, but she's lost all the tension in her body, taking a seat opposite him, next to her sister. Sirius and Remus disappear out of his line of sight, probably at the kitchen counter making more tea if the banging of metal and the sound of water running are anything to go by, so Regulus focuses his attention on his cousins.

"Now can you tell us how in Merlin's saggy tits Aunt Wally broke into your house?" Andromeda presses and Regulus bursts into laughter at her uncouth language. Narcissa only sends her sister a mild glare for the curses, but she seems to be much more interested in hearing Regulus' tale than chastising her older sister.

With a tired sigh, Regulus straightens up and begins telling them about what happened, starting with the feeling that heralded his Mother's visit and ending with the Aurors' departure. When he's finished, Andromeda and Narcissa share a look before turning to face him again.

"I'll look through the Malfoy Library for better wards to put around the house," Narcissa says decisively.

"And I'll contact Amelia Bones to see if she can oversee Walburga's trial herself. She and Ted were good friends at Hogwarts and I know she's a stickler for the rules - she won't let Walburga bribe her way out of the proper sentence. I assume you two have someone to represent you in court when the date is set?"

"Only the Black Family solicitor," Regulus shakes his head, pausing for a moment to take a sip of his tea. "And he'll most likely be representing Mother."

"I'll talk to our family solicitor and have him take your place in front of the Wizengamot, then," Andromeda nods seriously.

"Thank you," Regulus smiles softly at his cousin. "I don't feel like venturing into the Ministry for this. I'd rather just see the back of Mother once and for all."

"Understandable," Narcissa commiserates.

"Now, onto more joyful topics. Icarus asked if they can come over to spend some time with Harry soon."

"Sure, they can come over any time. Sirius, can you key them into the wards?"

"'Course," Sirius nods.

Soon, Andromeda and Narcissa take their leave, followed by Sirius and Remus retiring to their room upstairs. Regulus and Severus remain in the living room, sharing a companionable silence in front of the burning Fireplace.

"Thank you for being here, Severus. I don't know if I'd have had the courage to stun Mother for fear of hurting Harry," Regulus breaks it after close to a quarter of an hour has passed.

Severus nudges him with his shoulder. "Think nothing of it. I am glad I got here when I did. Hopefully this will be the end of unpleasantness for you for a while, Salazar knows you need to catch a break."

Regulus snorts, "not very likely. But one can hope."

"Will you be alright tonight?"

Regulus hums, eyes glued to the ceiling as he finds his words. "I think so. I'll probably sleep with Harry tonight, I don't think I can shut my eyes if I don't feel him in my arms. But I'll be fine."

"I am always one Floo call away, don't forget," Severus reminds him and Regulus shoots him a smile. "I shall take my leave now, Albus will surely wonder where I've disappeared to if I don't return to the castle soon. Keep me updated about the trial and other proceedings."

Severus rises and summons his cloak, fastening it around his neck. Regulus gets up as well and follows him to the door.

"Yes, I'll let you know how Harry's doing in the morning," he grins teasingly at his friend who huffs in annoyance but the relief is palpable in his posture. "Safe trip to Hogwarts, and good night, Sev," Regulus wishes him, stepping over the threshold to give his friend a peck on the cheek, squeezing his shoulder briefly, before he retreats into the house and closes the door softly behind him.

He waves his wand over the mess on the coffee table, sending dishes to the sink for washing, then extinguishes the lights in the living room and climbs the stairs quietly. He stops in his room to grab a set of pajamas then continues to walk until he enters Harry's bedroom, where his son's chest is rising and falling in a peaceful slumber. Regulus changes his clothes then climbs in the slightly too narrow bed, and pulls Harry in his arms. The toddler immediately shifts in his sleep to accommodate his dad, sighing softly once before burrowing his head in Regulus' chest.

Regulus exhales properly for the first time all day, finally, truly feeling tension and worries leaving his body, now that he's holding his son protectively in his arms. He watches Harry sleep for a moment to assure himself the danger has really passed, then he kisses his son's head gently and turns off the lights, shifting in a comfortable position and closing his eyes.

Not a day after Walburga broke into their house, Albus Dumbledore decides to make his presence known in Regulus' life for the nth time, this time in person.

Regulus is running some errands in Hogsmeade of all places, because his brother made the mistake to regale his godson with tales of all the sweets he used to fill his pockets with on Hogsmeade weekends while at Hogwarts, and Harry asked in the sweetest voice possible, ever so polite, if Regulus would be kind enough to procure some sweets for him as well.

So now here he is, perusing the aisles in Honeydukes, looking for Sugar Quills, Acid Pops, Jelly Slugs and other confectionery that make his blood sugar levels increase just by thinking of them.

Regulus waves off a shop assistant when she comes to offer her help, then goes back to debating the merits of getting a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans as well. He's just about to put it back in its place when a voice stalls him.

"I always manage to get the most awful flavors when I try those beans."

Regulus startles, almost dropping the box to the ground, and whips around to face the speaker. Albus Dumbledore, in all of his long bearded, spectacles wearing, colorful robes sporting splendor, looks at him with a jovial smile on his face, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his lime green robes.

"Dumbledore, I wasn't expecting to see you here today. I wasn't aware there was a Hogsmeade weekend scheduled," Regulus says, dropping the box of Beans in his basket.

Dumbledore regards him with a friendly smile, eyes twinkling, and shrugs.

"There isn't. My brother saw you passing by his pub and let me know."

"Ah, the Hog's Head, isn't it? I forgot a member of the Dumbledore family was in charge of that... illustrious establishment."

"Not everyone can be Headmaster of the most prestigious school of magic," Albus jokes though it's clear that Regulus' dig at his brother stung just the slightest bit. "I confess I didn't expect to see you here, though. Mind if I ask what brings you to Hogsmeade today?"

Yes, Regulus would mind very much.

"Not at all," Regulus smiles easily, going back to sorting through various flavors of Acid Pops, wrinkling his nose at the blood flavored ones. "Sirius told Harry about the sweets sold in Hogsmeade and I've been more or less corralled into getting some for him."

"Yes, I can see how Harry's interest might have been piqued regarding Honeydukes' sweets," Dumbledore chuckles, "seeing as I remember your brother dragging his friends here every Hogsmeade weekend to refill his reserves."

Regulus hums in agreement and selects some Fudge Flies and Chocolate Frogs to take home as well. Remus mentioned being partial to chocolate at some point and Regulus himself has fond memories of sneaking Fudge Flies in History of Magic and eating them instead of taking notes.

"Speaking of Harry, how is he? I've heard some disturbing news from the Ministry regarding your Mother but I wasn't sure what to believe."

Regulus smiles to himself now that Dumbledore has finally got to the point of this entire encounter, then turns to face the wizard with a calm expression.

"He's well. Got a bit of a scare but I calmed him down and then updated the wards around the house to ensure that never happens again. He's a toddler, they bounce back fairly quickly, and Mother didn't technically get to hurt him in any way that he'd recognize and remember, so he's already put the entire thing behind him."

"That is true, yes. I'm sorry to hear that the rumors were indeed true," Dumbledore says, expression solemn. Regulus would almost believe him if he didn't know him at all, that is.

"So is that why you've accosted me here, then? To ask about Harry? He's not your responsibility, you know. Even if something had happened, it'd be on me and Sirius to deal with it, not you."

"Regulus, why must you insist on treating me like I'm the enemy? I've been simply worried and wished to check on you personally. I don't think encountering your Mother like this would have been too pleasant for you either. Is it really that hard to believe I might want to see how you're holding up and nothing else, my boy?"

Regulus fixes Dumbledore with a hard stare, looking right in his eyes and not caring if the old man tries to skim the surface of his thoughts. He has nothing to hide.

"I find it hard to believe that's your only purpose for being here. I know you tried to force Severus into giving you my location after I decided to move back to Britain, and I know you had something or someone watching his house when I visited him before the holidays ended. I'm sorry, Headmaster, but this behavior doesn't really inspire trust."

Regulus breaks eye contact and walks away to another aisle. Dumbledore follows him swiftly in silence while Regulus surveys some Cockrock Clusters and thinks of putting them in Sirius' breakfast somehow to get back at him for sending him on this journey to begin with.

"Frankly, I'm not even sure what you want, Dumbledore." He picks up a bag of sweets and dumps them in his cart, not once looking back at the old wizard following him around. "Harry isn't going to anybody else but me or Sirius, I've already told you I don't want you in Harry's life especially since you're nothing more than his future Headmaster, and you've already seen for yourself that Harry is being raised right, with love and care and attention. What more do you want?"

"I am worried for Harry's safety. Your Mother broke into your house  and her initial purpose wasn't even to hurt Harry himself, how long until one of Tom's followers decides to attack Harry? If you allowed me to survey your house, I could place some additional wards that would ensure all of your safety."

"And alert you to the comings and goings of my own house," Regulus adds snidely.

"Only in the event of an attack," Dumbledore reassures.

"Like how you were alerted about the Potters falling at the end of His wand after it happened?"

"Regrettably, they refused to make me their Secret Keeper. None of it would have happened if they'd accepted my help."

"I wonder why they refused," Regulus bites back. "But James and Lily Potter's decisions aside, my answer is no. Narcissa has already found some strong wards to place on the property and everything has been taken care of. If Sirius and I are displeased with the security, we can always place the house under our own Fidelius."

"Narcissa Malfoy found you the wards? The same woman who is married to Lucius Malfoy, one of Tom's supporters who lied his way out of Azkaban?" Dumbledore asks pointedly.

"The very same man who also gave you one of His horcruxes as proof of his new allegiance," Regulus snaps, turning to face Dumbledore again, eyes blazing. "Do not insult my intelligence or question my cousin's loyalty. She loves Harry as much as she loves her own son, she'd sooner turn Lucius in to the Ministry herself than put Harry or me or Sirius in danger. And Lucius isn't the monster you seem to think he is either."

"I'm not pointing fingers, Regulus, I'm just begging you to be cautious about who you trust. Your brother and Harry's parents put their trust in the wrong person and it led to James and Lily's demise, Sirius' imprisonment, and Harry's orphanhood."

"We know better this time around, thank you very much. And while we're on the topic, why are you so obsessed with Harry's safety anyway? What is he to you? I can see the merit in keeping him close and on your side when he grows up, because of that damned Boy Who Lived moniker and the political influence he could have in the future. But he is just the kid of two of your former students and soldiers. I don't see you obsessing over the Longbottom Heir or the countless Weasley children's safety."

Regulus scrutinizes the Headmaster carefully, puzzling over this strange fixation the man has with Harry. His words give Dumbledore pause, and he shifts in place, adjusting his glasses in a move that is obviously meant to stall. Stall for what?

Feeling his suspicion increase and his hackles rise, Regulus glares at him.

"What aren't you telling me? What are you hiding? I swear to Morgana if you're keeping a secret that might endanger Harry I will end you myself."

"Nothing of the sort, dear boy," Dumbledore amends. "I'm just on guard about Tom returning and hunting Harry down."

"When that monster returns, He'll be everyone's problem, not just Harry's."

"Ah, but that is where you are mistaken. Harry will be in much graver danger. Tom has never taken kindly to being bested by anyone - when he comes back, I am almost entirely certain he will want to finish what he started that night in Godric's Hollow. And I fear he won't stop until he succeeds."

A shiver of dread washes over Regulus at the thought of his precious son being hunted by that monster. He won't allow it. He'll take Harry and hide him in the deepest pit in Australia under three Fidelius Charms and all the wards he can find before he lets that happen.

"When that moment comes, I'll deal with it. In the meantime, we've got everything covered and don't require your help. Much appreciated."

Dumbledore shakes his head sadly, seeming disappointed by Regulus' continuous refusal to receive his help. Thankfully, he drops the matter, understanding that, yet again, Regulus will not budge on this and that no amount of pressuring will make him rethink his decision.

"Very well, then. My help, as always, will be waiting until you require it, of course. You know where to find me."

"That, I do," Regulus nods sharply and watches as Dumbledore sighs then gathers himself and steps past him towards the exit of Honeydukes. "And Headmaster?"

"Yes, my boy?" Dumbledore turns to face him with interest.

"Never threaten Severus over matters that concern me, Harry, or my family again. I don't care what your plans for him are or what you're holding over his head, but he is my friend and I won't hesitate to burn your entire school to the ground with you in it if you ever do it again. Have a good day."

Regulus turns to pick up his basket without another word or look back, then takes his purchases up to the counter. He smiles at the man at the till, and asks for a big bag to dump the sweets in, pays then takes his leave.

By the time he comes out of the store, Dumbledore is nowhere in sight. Regulus smiles in satisfaction and makes his way to the Apparition Point, twirling his wand between his fingers and whistling to himself happily.

Days bleed into weeks. Weeks turn to months. Walburga is charged with attempted murder, breaking and entering, and the attempted use of an Unforgivable. She gets a cell right next to Bellatrix.

Soon, May is upon them, and with it come slightly more sun than usual, pleasantly warm breezes, days spent on the grounds, and meals taken in the small gazebo Remus suggested building in March.

The naked, snow-laden trees stand now tall and proud, their branches heavy with pink and white flowers. Harry loves picking up fallen petals and having Regulus glue them with a Sticking Spell into flowers again, so that he can then turn them into flower crowns for the whole family.

The frozen pond has come alive once more, and Sirius spends a surprisingly big amount of his free time tending to the fish he's decided to house in it. His brother takes Harry with him everyday to feed the fish and clean the pond, and Regulus loves seeing the patience, kindness, and gentleness his son shows the tiny creatures.

As the days grow longer, Sirius and Remus' patience, however, grows shorter, and three days into May they finally announce they've had enough of waiting and are getting married in a week. Apparently, venues are hard to come by, especially as soon as they wish to have their wedding, and the flower arrangements, catering and all the other organizational stuff is giving both of them a headache. Thus, they've decided to forgo planning, and simply do it.

Regulus shakes his head in amusement, more so at the fact that they even tried at all than anything else. He knows Narcissa will likely blow a fuse over the short notice and lack of fanfare, but they both know careful, meticulous planning has never been Sirius' forte.

As expected, his cousin has a bit of a meltdown when Sirius tells her the tragic news, but she quickly regains her composure. As soon as Regulus sees the gleam in her eye, he knows it's time to make a hasty exit - there is nothing Narcissa loves more than organizing and challenges, and his brother's wedding has both.

"You'll get married at Malfoy Manor, of course, because the grounds are bigger and better maintained that yours, and this way you can invite whoever you want without having to disclose your location. Then, I'll compile a list of appetizers, entrées, main courses, side dishes, and desserts. Of course, can't forget about the cake, but I have a baker friend from France, she's a wonder and her baking is the best in all of Paris."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Sirius asks, equal parts horrified and bewildered.

Narcissa doesn't even seem to be hearing him, as she continues charging ahead.

"Then I'll have to take care of the seating arrangements- Sirius, don't forget to send the invitations tomorrow, if you want your wedding to have any guests and for me not to scalp you right before the big day. Oh, and music, I'll see what I can do, we simply must have a singer or a band present, it wouldn't do for you to have your first dance to music playing over the Wireless..."

And so she goes off, and Regulus knows it is time for him to leave.

And now here he is, browsing the aisles of Gladrags, looking for wedding robes. Harry is weaving between his legs, inspecting the fabric of robes intently for a few seconds, peeking at Regulus' displeased face, turning back with a scowl of his own, before shaking his head and going to the next set of robes that catches Regulus' eyes where he repeats the process. It's an adorable sight - the shop assistant thinks so too, if the cooing she bestows upon Harry every five minutes is a good indicator - and Regulus can never really get used to the idea that his son loves him so much, looks up to him so much that he wishes to emulate him.

Regulus is interrupted from his browsing by the front door chime going off, and a familiar annoyed voice muttering and cursing. He turns around with an amused smirk.

"Fancy seeing you here, Severus. Was the second hand clothes store closed today?"

"Oh laugh it up, Black, why don't you," Severus scowls fiercely as he approaches. "I'm here to get wedding robes for your brother's blasted wedding. Minerva has been insufferable since she heard the mutt is getting hitched, and shopping for clothes is better than hearing her gushing."

"Don't be like that, Sev, they're like children to her. Of course she's excited. And anyway, it's a good thing you're here, you might help me decide on what to get. My little helper seems to be sharing my opinions, which isn't very helpful at all," Regulus laughs, kissing Harry's beaming smile for a second before turning back to his friend.

"These are hideous, these are the wrong color for your complexion, and these have the wrong kind of stitching. Keep looking."

"Well, that was fast," Regulus blinks, bewildered for a second, before he shakes it off and starts sifting through another row of robes. "By the way, have you found a plus one?"

Regulus can see Severus raising a sardonic eyebrow over the top of a reddish brown sets of robes he isn't actually interested in, but pretends to study the collar when his friend looks at him.

"No, and I don't plan to bring one anyway."

"How come? I'm sure you could find someone."

"I am not interested in idle chit chat for the duration of the ordeal. Attending the wedding is bad enough."

"That's my brother's wedding you're talking about," Regulus mock scowls at the Potions Master.

"Exactly," Severus deadpans then moves over to where Harry is running his fingers over a dark green set of robes with wonder on his face. "These will do, Harrison. Thank you." Turning back to Regulus, he raises an eyebrow, "and you said he's not helpful."

Regulus chuckles but has to concede the point. The robes are beautiful, and the color suits Severus - not quite black, but dark enough to not make his friend uncomfortable.

"They suit you."

"Much appreciated. And anyway, why do you care if I have a date or not? Do you?"

Regulus snorts, shaking his head. "As if. I've come to terms with the idea that relationships aren't for me. I mean, kissing is kind of nice I guess, and holding hands with someone, sleeping in the same bed, holding and being held, all of that stuff. But more? It's not for me."

Severus doesn't get a chance to reply because Regulus finally finds a set of blue robes that match his complexion perfectly. Both him and Harry squeal over it for a moment, then Regulus rushes to the changing room to try them on. They are a bit loose around the waist and shoulders, so he calls for the shop assistant to perform the necessary changes to tailor them to his body. Fifteen minutes later, he walks out of the changing room with a cautious smile.

"What do you think?"

Severus looks at him for a long moment, saying nothing. Regulus worries he looks so bad his friend has finally been rendered speechless since no insults are bad enough. But right when he's starting to feel self conscious, Severus swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, and he smiles softly at Regulus.

"They're a good match, you look beautiful in them."

Relief crashes over Regulus at Severus' words and his face breaks out into a smile.

"Thank you! Alright, I'll go back and get changed, watch Harry for me until I get back."

He dashes back in the changing room and switches the wedding robes for his usual ones, and after he buttons his shirt back on he catches sight of his reflection. A handsome young man stares back at him, gray eyes framed by long, soft, dark eyelashes, pitch black hair twisted in a simple bun, strong jaw softened at the edges here and there. He looks as he's always looked, and for a moment he feels confused at what caught his attention in the first place, but then he notices - his lips are still stretched into a smile, as if absent-minded, and his pale cheeks are blushing a healthy red.

It's such a bizarre sight, Regulus blinks at himself owlishly for a long while. He doesn't know why he's blushing, maybe all this changing of clothes back and forth has heated him up.

Shaking his head, Regulus finishes dressing and walks out, where Harry is swinging Severus' hand back and forth. Severus himself watches the boy with a fond smile, which he makes sure to form into a challenging glare every time he looks at the girl behind the counter, as if daring her to comment on it.

"All done, let's go," Regulus announces himself, and watches Severus jolt in surprise at the sound of his voice. Harry immediately replaces Sev's hand with his, and Regulus smiles down at his son before he walks over to the shop assistant and hands her the robes over to be bagged. He pays, takes his purchase, then waits as Severus does the same before the three of them walk out of Gladrags.

"Daddy, can I get a butterbeer?"

Regulus looks at his son for a moment, then at Severus, and replies, "sure, emerald, why not. Severus, care to accompany us?"

"I should probably return to the castle," Severus draws out, gaze uncertain. Regulus frowns in confusion, not understanding why his friend is being shifty all of a sudden. It's not like Severus to beat around the bush and hedge, he usually doesn't have a problem with telling you to piss off when he's tired of your company.

"But Sev! You promised to get me bangers and mash!" Harry implores, tugging on Severus' hand and looking at him with the most heartbroken green eyes the world has ever seen. Regulus knows Severus has lost the battle before it even began the second his son brought out the big guns.

"Come on, Severus, Dumbledore won't kill you if you linger for one more hour at The Three Broomsticks with us," Regulus insists.

Severus rolls his eyes and sighs, but lets himself be pulled by a very determined Harry.

"Very well. Lead the way, your Highness."

"Thank you, Sev!"

"Yeah, yeah, save it, brat."

They walk inside the pub, and Regulus is instantly greeted by the smell of food and butterbeer, and the sounds of chairs scraping and a cacophony of voices talking over each other all at once. The pub is devoid of any students, thankfully, but the usual Hogsmeade residents are more than enough to fill three quarters of the available tables and drown the air with conversations.

The three of them pick a more secluded table in a corner, and settle quickly. Regulus browses the menu idly, knowing he won't be getting anything besides a butterbeer of his own, but wanting to have something to appear occupied with until Madam Romserta comes over to take their orders. For whatever reason, he doesn't feel like facing Severus just yet, his mind still puzzling over the other's strange behavior.

"Sorry for the wait, dears, it's rush hour. Now, what would you three handsome lads like to order?" Madam Rosmerta asks as she sidles up to their table, a warm, friendly smile on her face when she looks at Harry.

"We'll have a butterbeer and a small plate of bangers and mash for my son, please."

"And you, Severus?"

"A butterbeer will suffice."

"Wonderful. I'll bring your drinks in a jiffy, and the food is only 15 minutes behind."

With that, she bustles away from their table, disappearing from sight for a moment, before she comes back with three tankards. She places them on the table, smiles and waves at Harry, then disappears back into the throng.

Regulus fusses over Harry for a moment, then busies himself with taking a long drag from his drink, and when he's run out of things to stall with, finally looks at Severus. Who is already watching him. Quite intently, Regulus might add, but not for long. When he realizes Regulus has finally turned to look at him, Severus averts his eyes to a spot over his shoulder. Regulus frowns, thinking, then as if a candle has been lit inside his head, he realizes how familiar this behavior is.

"Severus, can you look at me?" he asks gently.

Severus resists for a second then seems to give in and turns his eyes on Regulus'.

"Is this what I think it is? Sixth year again? Don't be embarrassed, I just want to know."

Severus clenches his jaw, avoids eye contact for a moment, then he returns his eyes to him and nods mutely.

Regulus stretches his hand over the table and rests it on Severus', grasping it gently.

"Hey, it's okay. It's not like you can help your own feelings, right? But I wish I could give you what you want. You know I can't."

"All I want is you. All I've ever wanted has been you, Regulus. After your rejection I... I tried to get over it, forget you, but Evan Rosier was not enough. Rabastan Lestrange was not enough. And you know why? Cause they weren't you," Severus whispers, pained, haunted eyes blazing with fire, burning a hole through Regulus right to his soul.

Regulus' heart hurts, hearing those bastards' names falling from Severus' lips, and it clenches painfully in his chest, though he doesn't know why. But the thought of his friend seeking what he could not have in Regulus, in those two's beds, is sickening and it makes him want to rip them to shreds. They didn't deserve Severus.

"But I can't be what you want, Sev," Regulus tries again, pleading desperately for him to understand, feeling as if every word is being ripped by force from his throat but knowing he has to let his friend down yet again. "I'm not... like everybody else. I don't feel want or need, and I cannot force myself for you, not even you. I love you dearly, and if I ever thought having a partner for me was a possibility you'd be my first choice, but it isn't. It never will be."

"Don't say that," Severus rejects his words, shaking his head vehemently. "You don't know what I want, Regulus. I don't care about wants and needs and I'd rather cut my hand off than force you or know you're forcing yourself. The only thing I've ever wanted was you. You, Regulus. That is more than enough."

Regulus chews on his bottom lip in thought, feeling uncertainty, confusion, and a glimmer of hope, all swirling inside his brain and his chest, like impatient bees. He stares at Severus' uncharacteristically open expression, his earnestness and hope, his conviction in his words, all of it plain to see. Or maybe it's only Regulus who can see them as if by reading a familiar, worn out, well loved book.

"I... I need some time to think, Sev. Please give me that. This isn't no, but... allow me to think," he finally says when it feels like the silence has stretched for too long.

Brief disappointment flashes in Severus' eyes, there and gone in the blink of an eye, but he nods, understanding.

"I'll be waiting for your answer, whichever it is. Take your time, I don't want to pressure you."

"Thank you," Regulus smiles.

Madam Rosmerta returns to their table with a small plate of bangers and mash and a basket of fish and chips in one hand.

"Here you go, dears, this one's on the house," she greets them, placing the basket of fish and chips in the middle of the table, in Severus and Regulus' direct line of sight. Regulus smiles and thanks her, then helps Harry get a grip on his fork before taking another sip of his butterbeer.

Severus pushes the basket meaningfully towards him with a scowl.

"Eat, I'm sure you haven't had anything in your stomach since this morning. I won't have you fainting on the streets now."

Regulus laughs, feeling warmth in his cheeks and his chest, but starts eating dutifully, throwing his friend cheeky glances as if to say "there, see? I'm eating".

The rest of their time at the pub goes smoothly, and no more tension lingers in the air, at least not the uncomfortable kind.

Regulus goes home with Harry and, strangely, all he can think about is that kiss he pressed on Severus' cheek back in January.

I once read this quote about love, when I was 16 and alone, because I rejected the first person who ever loved me not out of his duty as family, but because he chose to do it. Even in spite of all of my flaws. The quote goes like this: "Love is like a fever which comes and goes quite independently of the will."

Stendhal, a Muggle French writer you've surely heard of, had a lot more to say on the topic of love, but I confess I've quite forgotten most of it. This quote, however, stayed with me, and has continued to do so ever since.

Love, Severus, has always been a complicated topic for me. I won't go into detail for you know very well why that is, but I will say this: loving you has never been hard.

You were my first friend. When everyone around me treated me like a ticket to success by associating with the right, proper Black son, or when they shot me glares and hexed me in the hallways for being a Death Eater when joining the Dark Lord wasn't even a thought in my head yet, when the entire world conspired against me in one way or another, you were there. Silent, patient, sympathetic, you stood by me and never let me drown in the sea of accusations or disappointments hurled at me from every direction.

So, no, loving you has never been a burden. Letting you go was.

Narcissa likes to joke about your confession so many years ago. She finds great humor in both of our humiliations, and treats the whole ordeal as just a rather hilarious comedy of errors. I have never treated it as such.

It hurt more than I can ever express to turn you down that day in the Great Hall, even more to do so in front of such a great audience. It felt like I was betraying you, somehow, throwing your love in your face, your efforts to keep me afloat all that time. I felt, in that moment, such crushing despair when I realized I couldn't be what you wanted me to be, because I knew you were the best thing I was ever going to get. No one could truly love the broken, spineless, useless son of Walburga and Orion Black ever again, and with every word of rejection I hammered another nail in the coffin of my chance to love.

But I did it. Because I told myself, 'He's better off. This will pass, and he will realize there are better choices out there. He will find someone who wants him physically as well as emotionally, someone who can love without doubt and fear and insecurity, someone who can receive that same love in return without needing reassurance that it's real, that it's deserved.'

And I let you go.

I didn't think about you, or love, for a long time after we drifted apart. Sirius was fighting on the opposite side of the war, I was Marked and doomed to a life of subservience under the Dark Lord, then I almost died in the act of revenge on behalf of my house elf - the only being who loved me unconditionally from the moment I was born.

And then came His fall, came Sirius' imprisonment, came Harry. Beautiful, wonderful Harry, who loved me before he even knew my name, who called me Daddy and refused to accept my attempts to correct him. My son, who is pure, and innocent, and kind, who gifts me flowers and rocks, who weaves me crowns made of fallen petals and holds my hand when we go down the stairs because he fears I might fall otherwise. And he's taught me so much since he came into my life, about the world, and myself, but most of all, about love.

I now know love is kind, and patient. Love doesn't ask for the impossible, it doesn't ask for anything at all. It just wants to be felt and shown and spoken, freely and easily, without shame. And I know I've always loved you, in one way or another, since I was 15.

The fever of my love for you has come and gone. That's what I've always told myself. 'It's fine, it happened, I was a kid and he was the first person who loved me when he didn't have to. It's passed.' And maybe, I think, in a way, it did pass. For a while, regrettably, you were but a footnote in my life, a past that could have been but never was, an open chapter left hanging, never to be finished.

But you came back in my life. The chapter finally picked up where it left off. At first, I was sure we'd be nothing more than friends. I was sure your love for me was gone. I was mistaken.

And now, I sit and ponder, Severus, how can I reject you another time? How can I break my heart, my hope, for a second time? I cannot. And I refuse. Because I know, in my heart of hearts, that I have always loved you, even when I didn't think of you, and that I can love you again, even when I never thought I would.

My only wish is for you to give me your patience again, and to stand by me as you've always done.

In Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy said, “I’ve always loved you, and when you love someone, you love the whole person, just as he or she is, and not as you would like them to be.” I never realized why this quote always made me wistful and heartbroken, until we talked a week ago in The Three Broomsticks and you said I was the only thing you've ever wanted. So I trust you when you say I am enough the way I am.

The question isn't whether I love you or not, Severus. But rather, will I allow myself to be vulnerable and open with you in a way I've never been with anyone else? Will I open myself to the possibility of getting my heart broken, of ruining the good friendship we have? Will I take the chance that none of it will happen, but that instead I will be happy and loved with the person who's known me best since I was 14 and we started talking?

My insecurities would like me to say no, vehemently and decisively. No, I will not. But I have discovered, through a long and winding road, that I am much more than my insecurities.

In the end, have you not bared yourself to me, time and time again? Have you not laid your heart at my feet, free to do with it as I please, to choose whether to stomp on it and throw it back at you or cradle it gently in my hands and safeguard it for as long as I shall draw breath?

I don't think it's fair of me to let my flaws hurt you just because I'm too afraid. So, I've decided to take a step into the unknown, with you by my side, and take a leap of faith. I know you will catch me if I fall.

And thus, my answer is yes, Severus, I love you and I will give this a chance. After all, loving you has never been hard.

Just be patient with me, for I can't afford the hastiness of a 16 year old anymore. I need to take this slowly, and carefully, because I have another responsibility beside myself now - Harry cannot suffer due to my own mistakes. He needs stability and peace.

If you can understand and accept that, accept us as we are, then you don't ever have to doubt that I am yours.

In a way, this has always been the only option for me: it's always been you or loneliness.

Love,
Regulus

Sirius straightens his robes for the thousandth time, looking himself over in the mirror anxiously, visibly resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair. Regulus watches him with amusement from where he's leaning against the doorway. 

"You're being ridiculous, Siri. It's going to be fine."

Sirius shoots him a half hearted glare through the mirror.

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one getting married."

"You've been with Remus since you were teenagers. It's not like he's going to stand you up at the altar," Regulus chuckles. He pushes himself away from the doorway and approaches his brother with a soft smile on his face. He wraps his arms loosely around Sirius, resting his chin on his shoulder, and stares at the two of them, side by side. "Nothing will go wrong, I promise. This is your big day, so enjoy it and stop fretting. I'm very happy for you."

"Thanks, Reggie," Sirius smiles tightly, nerves still very much there but something in his eyes seems to soften and relax when his gaze slides to Regulus' reflection. "Alright, let's do this."

Sirius takes a deep breath, shoots the mirror one last glance, then nods decisively to himself before turning towards Regulus and holding out his arm. Regulus takes it with a reassuring smile and opens the door, the two of them spilling out on Malfoy Manor's grounds.

Beautiful, cream colored wood benches are neatly placed on the manicured lawn, split in half to make way for a walkway covered in flowers. Up ahead, the open altar lies, a raised platform decorated by an archway made of white lillies, where the wedding officiant waits beside a nervous looking Remus.

As soon as the werewolf catches sight of them, he freezes and straightens up, eyes locked on Sirius. Catching on, the guests stir into action and whip around in their seats. As their eyes fall on the Black brothers, everyone stands up.

"Don't let me fall, please," Sirius whispers as the music starts playing, signaling the start of the wedding march. 

Regulus' hand tightens around his brother's bicep then begins tugging him gently towards the altar. "Never."

They slowly make their way towards the waiting groom, and Regulus looks around at the gathered people as they walk. His eyes slide from person to person, gaze falling on most of their Hogwarts professors, and nodding politely at each of them. McGonagall is surreptitiously dabbing at her eyes while Hagrid doesn't even bother hiding his loud sniffles. Andromeda smiles broadly a few seats further, and Tonks - dressed in a colorful rainbow dress today - gives them both a thumbs up before she goes back to holding Harry's hand.

Harry is bouncing in place and grinning broadly, which prompts Regulus to return his smile, then turns back to whisper furiously to Draco for a moment. Narcissa's smile trembles slightly at the corners but it's clear she's doing everything in her power to keep her tears at bay until the wedding actually starts at the very least. Lucius gives Sirius an encouraging nod as they pass him and Ted mouths 'good luck', but Regulus isn't even sure his brother is paying attention.

Right when the music dies down, they reach Remus and, concomitantly, the altar. The two grooms lock eyes, and Regulus can hear both of their breaths hitching as they take each other in from up close. He allows them a moment, then he straightens up and lets his hand fall from Sirius' bicep to his palm.

"I, Regulus Arcturus Black, as Sirius Orion Black's closest relative, do hereby consent to the magical, physical, spiritual, and legal union between my brother and his chosen partner, Remus John Lupin. With Magic as my witness, I bless your marriage, and may nothing ever stand between the two of you. So mote it be. Let the ceremony begin."

Regulus places Sirius' hand in Remus' then steps back and to the side. The two turn to face each other, holding hands and smiling broadly, as the officiant clears his throat and casts a mild Sonorus before beginning.

"Our purpose today is to observe the holy union between Magic's sons bearing the names of Sirius Orion Black and Remus John Lupin. As his closest relative, Regulus has officially given Sirius' hand in marriage over to Remus. Now, I ask the soon to be married couple to begin their vows."

Remus takes in a deep breath then begins.

"You cannot possess me for I belong to myself. But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me for I am a free person." Sirius smiles, shaking his head. "I pledge to you that it will be your eyes into which I smile every morning. I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care. I shall be a shield for your back, and you for mine. I shall not slander you, nor you me. I shall honour you above all others, and when we quarrel, we shall do so in private and tell no strangers our grievances. This is my wedding vow to you. This is the marriage of equals."

Regulus' heart swells with love and happiness as he watches his brother's eyes shining with tears and elation as Remus finishes his vows. Sirius struggles to compose himself then he clears his throat and starts his own vows.

"I take you to be my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish  our friendship and I will love you today, I will love you tomorrow, and I will love you forever. I will trust you and I will honour you, I will laugh with you and I will cry with you. I will love you faithfully through the best and the worst, I will love you through the difficult and the easy. What may come, I will always be there. As I have given you my hand to hold, so do I give you my life to keep."

Everyone seems to be holding their breath, watching the two grooms repeat their vows. Regulus braces himself for what comes next, but of course his brother has to put his own spin on things - otherwise, it wouldn't be his wedding.

"And, as your favorite book heroine, Jane Eyre, said: I ask you to pass through life at my side — to be my second self, and best earthly companion," Sirius finishes with an unrepentant grin. Only now does Magic makes Her presence known. A soft wind, accompanied by tinkling bells and the scent of lillies, sweeps through the crowd before enveloping Sirius and Remus for a moment. As the air settles back down around them, flashes of light flare around the grooms' joined hands, fiery ribbons manifesting around their hands before sinking in their skin, invisible once more.

"Now you are bound one to the other with a tie not easy to break, as Magic Herself has acknowledged this union and has Blessed thee, Sirius Orion Lupin and Remus John Lupin. Rejoice, guests and family, rejoice for the union is official and these two are one. You may kiss your partner."

Regulus averts his eyes in amusement when the newlyweds are upon each other the second the officiant finishes his sentence. Everyone claps furiously, some blowing their noses loudly or still sobbing in happiness, others cheering and whistling for the happy couple. Now that the ceremony is over, the band Narcissa managed to secure on such short notice begins playing a happy and energetic song, and people begin spilling out from the benches to approach Sirius and Remus for their due congratulations.

Being the closest one, Regulus pulls the both of them into a hug as soon as they stop kissing, laughing freely.

"Congratulations, the both of you. I know you'll be happy together, because I don't think I've ever seen a better suited pair in my life."

"Thank you, Regulus," Remus says with feeling, smiling and kissing his cheek for a moment.

"I love you, Reg," Sirius replies then takes his face in his hands and plants a smacking kiss on his forehead. Regulus pushes him away, laughing, then leaves the two Lupins to the mercy of the throng of people waiting for their turn to smother the couple.

He spots Tonks herding Harry and Draco towards a table laden with food so he leaves them be for the moment. Instead, Regulus winds his way through the benches until he reaches the drinks table and pours himself a small glass of whiskey. He's barely taken his first sip when he feels the presence of another person.

"Hiding already?"

"I am doing no such thing. But I wouldn't mind the company while I finish this glass."

"The company or the excuse not to socialize with our former professors?"

"Same thing, really." Regulus shrugs his shoulders and smiles cheekily at Severus who rolls his eyes but accepts a glass of whiskey of his own without a word.

"You did good, at the altar," Severus mentions idly as he watches people start mingling, picking up drinks or finger foods, beginning conversations and forming little groups around the garden. Regulus sighs in contentment and shrugs again.

"It was nerve-wracking but in the absence of Mother and Father I was the only one available. I'm glad I could be there for Sirius like this, it's an important day for him."

"Indeed. What was up with the quote at the end, though?"

"Oh, that?" Regulus laughs. "It's Remus' favorite book since Hogwarts, Sirius read it just to impress him but ended up liking it in the end. Just a little inside thing between the two of them."

"Much more sentimental than I ever expected from the mutt."

"Yeah, he is." His eyes track his freely laughing brother a few yards away, clutching Remus' arm for support as he doubles over, and all Regulus can feel is happiness and contentment. "I trust you got my letter last night?"

"I did," Severus answers quietly and Regulus can feel his hand resting on the small of his back tentatively. Regulus feels his heart stutter in his chest for a moment before it starts beating properly again, but he forces himself to ignore his nerves and relax. "I appreciated your honesty, but please, next time just get to the point, Black. I thought you were going to say no for the majority of that letter."

Regulus laughs and turns his head to regard Severus with amusement.

"My apologies, I was possessed by my own sentimentality for a moment there and forgot myself. I'll make sure to be concise and to the point in the future, Snape."

"You had better. Now, I see your brat requires my presence so I shall leave you to socialize. See you around, Regulus."

"See you, Sev."

Before Severus turns around to leave, he bends down and lays a soft kiss on Regulus' cheek. Eyes wide and heart fit to burst through his ribcage, Regulus can only watch him walk away and join a chattering Harry. Unfortunately, he doesn't have much time to dwell on the gesture before his old Potions Professor, Horace Slughorn, approaches him and jovially engages him in a conversation about the beautiful work Narcissa has done with the wedding.

Mind still reeling from the kiss, Regulus absently entertains the man and keeps up the boring conversation he has no interest in, though his eyes keep straying to Severus the entire time. Somehow, Severus' dark and amused eyes seem to be meeting him every time he does so.

The seasons change rapidly after Sirius' wedding. The two go on their honeymoon, come back, continue living with Regulus and Harry, get a tad more obnoxious with their affection, but nothing really changes.

Similarly, Harry continues to grow at astonishing speeds. Regulus, Remus, Sirius and Severus start teaching him more seriously about numbers, the alphabet, basic notions about magical subjects, and literature. His son takes to it like a duck to water, soaking up the information like a sponge. To balance out the academic lessons, Regulus and Sirius start teaching Harry how to ride a broom and, to no one's surprise, find out the boy is a natural flier. To Regulus' smug joy, and Sirius' sulky dismay, Harry is one of the best Seekers - as far as raw talent goes - they've ever seen. Sirius gripes about Harry not taking after him as a Beater or James as a Chaser for days.

In addition, Harry's metamorphmagus abilities flourish the more time he spends with Icarus/Tonks and the more his magic stabilizes as he grows up. He tends to take after his cousin and shows his emotions through changes in his hair color or irises, but generally only uses his powers to tame his hair by lengthening it enough to tie it in a ponytail the way Regulus does.

Tonks goes to Hogwarts and returns joined at the hip with Charlie Weasley, the second oldest son of Molly and Arthur Weasley. Regulus didn't know them that well at Hogwarts as he was several years behind them, but he knows the Prewett Twins - Molly's brothers - were part of Dumbledore's Order and died fighting during the War. Tonks' new friend brings the Weasley family into Regulus' life shortly after Tonks' return from their first year at Hogwarts, when Harry tags along for a visit in Ottery St. Catchpole and befriends Ronald, the family's second youngest.

It takes a while for Draco and Ron to warm up to each other, given their families' animosity, but no one can really stand in the way of Harry's determined furrowed brows or his delighted smile when the two children finally agree on something, so the trio of boys soon becomes a tight-knit group. All of this comes at the expense of Regulus' sanity, as the boys seem to be getting in much too many dangerous situations, trouble seemingly being synonymous with the three's names. But they always come out alright from the numerous shenanigans they get themselves into and Harry's happiness at having two best friends to have adventures with - just like Padfoot, Moony, and Papa! - are enough to quell Regulus' urge to wrap Harry in bubble wrap (very handy and interesting Muggle contraption) and hide him away in a vault at Gringotts for the rest of days.

As for Regulus, his time is spent in a veritable domestic bliss. He's loved Harry for a long time and he's known he wanted to be his parent for just as long, but as time passes and Harry keeps on growing, keeps on transforming and turning into quite an admirable person, Regulus realizes how much parenting means to him. Some people don't need children in their lives to give them meaning or purpose or accomplishment, and that's just fine - Regulus himself used to think he was one of them before Harry - but he has found that there is nothing that can cure his lingering self hatred, that can make him believe he's doing something worthwhile with his life and second chance after the War, quite like seeing how well he's done when it comes to raising Harry.

After the danger, stress, hectic agony and pandemonium that was his life before and during the War, making peanut butter sandwiches for Harry and cutting them in star shapes because it reminds him of his Daddy and Padfoot's names is the best thing that could have happened to his life.

Aside from Severus, too.

After the wedding, he and Severus tentatively start getting closer beyond a friendship standpoint. It begins small and unsure, both of them eager but neither willing to risk ruining things for good or upsetting the other by crossing some unspoken boundary. But soon, Regulus starts getting more comfortable with displays of affection in the form of kissing, hugging and hand holding, more confident that what he's giving is more than enough and exactly what Severus wants. Severus, in turn, stops walking on eggshells around him, stops being afraid that he'll scare Regulus away with the slightest touch.

It takes a lot of time and patience, uncomfortable but necessary conversations, and a few heated arguments, but they get there eventually. The day the make their relationship official and let Harry know - Harry's response being a confused head tilt and a 'I thought Sev was already your boyfriend, Daddy' - is the day Regulus finally breathes easily and knows he's as content with his life as humanly possible.

The years trickle by, but they don't get married, not even when Narcissa starts casually - and then not so casually - showing him decorations in a wedding magazine she just so happens to have opened every time he visits her. Regulus doesn't need a piece of paper to tell him Severus belongs with him - nor a binding Magical Vow - and Severus, likewise, detests the societal norm that every happy couple must wed one another as the quintessential antisocial prat that he is. Regulus loves him even more after that.

Around Harry's eighth birthday, his friend group gets three more additions in the forms of Neville Longbottom whom his son befriends one day in Diagon Alley as he's browsing the cages and terrariums at the Magical Menagerie, and Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass, whom he meets at Draco's birthday.

The Longbottom Heir is very shy, tending to stumble over his words and blush painfully bright almost every time he opens his mouth or anyone gives him any sort of attention. Harry, though, smiles brightly, asks to be his friend, and then proceeds to pester the boy endlessly until he finally gets used to Harry's outgoing and sunny personality and starts coming out of his shell. Over the three years until they are due to arrive at Hogwarts Regulus has the opportunity to witness Neville Longbottom evolving from a stuttering, clumsy mess of a child to a confident, if still quiet and reserved, pre-teen who matches his son's wit and challenges with an easy grin.

The older Greengrass daughter is a whirlwind of strength, righteousness, intelligence and cunning, all wrapped up into a neat little bow of icy blonde hair, striking blue eyes, pretty dresses and disarming smiles. She is a Slytherin if Regulus ever saw one, and it puts him on edge at first, not knowing if she's genuine in her desire to befriend Harry or if she's acting on her parents' orders of getting close to the Boy-Who-Lived for clout. Eventually, though, he lowers his hackles so to speak, as the warmth in her eyes when she looks at Harry - impossible to fake at such a young age - becomes unmistakable and difficult to dismiss.

Theodore, however, is another matter altogether. The boy is unassuming in both appearance and personality when Regulus meets him. He has brown hair, brown eyes, a weedy stature, features which indicate he'll grow up to be attractive in a conventional sort of way, but he's not striking or attention grabbing in any way. His personality, likewise, is just as plain - quiet, bookish, polite, tending to stick to forgotten corners when in the company of more people than just Harry, or trailing just two steps behind his son - always, without fail - at any other given time.

Regulus knows who the boy's father is, has gone on raids with Thesseus Nott during the War many times, and is aware of how awful of a person the man is. He remembers the sick pleasure the man took out of torturing Muggle children, sexually abusing Muggle women in front of their partners' eyes before finally killing them both. Vaguely, he even recalls hearing about his sudden status as a widower after his several years younger wife's abrupt demise shortly after Theodore's birth.

It doesn't take long for Regulus to figure out that Thesseus' violent behavior isn't an exception when it comes to his own son, nor that Theodore lies to his father about his whereabouts every time he visits Harry. It takes just as much for Nott Snr. to find out about his son's new acquitance as well.

Although Regulus can do nothing to take Theodore away from the abominable man legally speaking - the Wizengamot is teeming with pardoned Death Eaters and corrupted individuals willing to turn a blind eye with enough incentive -, he didn't live as a Slytherin for 7 years at school for nothing. So when Theodore stops showing up for three scheduled visits in a row, followed by a scathing - and heavily cursed - letter from Thesseus Nott about keeping his Mudblood loving hands away from his Pureblood child, Regulus wastes no time before he pays Nott Manor a visit. He reminds his former colleague that he can provide plenty of evidence that would get him Kissed on sight if he bothered long enough to unearth it, and that if that fails, he can just remind the Nott Lord that despite being the father of the Boy-Who-Lived, and a traitor to the Pureblood Agenda, he is still a Dark wizard magically speaking, and a Black to boot. Thesseus gulps rather pathetically when Regulus fingers his wand and casually mentions he's had no opportunities to practice any of the more extreme spells he learned in his youth since he's become a full time dad.

Thesseus isn't a problem after that.

Dumbledore doesn't bother them again, something which Regulus is grateful for, but Professor McGonagall approaches him after his brother's wedding, uncharacteristically hesitant and unsure, asking for permission to see Harry and get to know him. Not one to be cruel needlessly, and having no quarrel with his former Transfiguration Professor, Regulus grants it. After that, the woman offers her help to tutor Harry in some basic Transfiguration before Hogwarts, encourages Harry's increasingly fanatical enjoyment of Quidditch, and becomes aunt Minnie.

When Harry is nine, he confesses without shame or hesitancy - because Regulus has raised him to know that he is loved unconditionally and without restraint by a lot of people and especially by him - that he thinks he might like both girls and boys. Regulus smiles, ruffles his head, and tells him that until he's at least 14 or 15, he'd better not like anyone or anything except for Quidditch and his school subjects. Harry scowls in indignation at having his hair messed with, grins at him then yells over his shoulder that he's Flooing to the Burrow for a game of Quidditch with Ron and his siblings.

When Regulus tells Remus and Sirius, his brother beams and exclaims, "like mother, like son!", and that is how Regulus learns that Lily Potter had been bisexual.

A year later, Harry asks to go to the Muggle Zoo for his 10th birthday, and that's how they all find out his son is a Parselmouth. He flinches at the sound of the language at first, his mind taking him back to his 17 year old self, to torture and madness and trembling fear, before he snaps out of it before Harry can witness his horror. He pushes it away in favor of reassuring Harry the ability doesn't make him evil when Sirius blurts out, like an idiot, that Voldemort was a Parselmouth too. He doesn't want his son to hide a part of himself or to become ashamed of who he is, so he encourages Harry to use it as much as he can and wants to, but to be cautious around whom he displays the ability since a lot of people are prejudiced and won't hesitate to label him as a bad person solely because of it. Like the emotionally mature boy that he is, Harry nods and promises to be careful.

A week later Severus gifts Harry with a small Magical Boomslang and pretends to not have gone soft when Harry hugs him enthusiastically and thanks him over and over again for the beautiful, green snake. Harry ends up naming her Eden.

Sooner than he'd like, the time for Hogwarts arrives. A week before Harry's eleventh birthday, an owl flies through their kitchen window and dumps a letter emblazoned with the familiar purple wax seal Regulus hasn't seen since his school days, almost dropping it in Harry's bowl of cereal. It then flies off into one of the trees outside their kitchen, settling for a nap while they read the missive and are ready to reply.

Regulus watches Harry's green eyes light up in delight and smiles to himself when his son dives for the letter, nearly knocking over his bowl in his haste.

"No need to knock over the table like a barbarian, Harry. The letter shall still be there if you take 3 additional seconds to ensure you don't transfer your bowl's contents onto the table," Severus drawls, eyeing the teen with bored eyes over his Potioneering magazine.

"I know, I know, sorry," Harry hurries to reply and has the decency to shoot them an apologetic look before getting distracted by his eagerness once more.

"Well, let's see it then. Don't want you combusting all over our breakfast, now do we?" Regulus urges with a fond smile. Harry scowls at him for a second then turns back to his letter and opens it carefully despite the very visible impatience swimming in his irises. His eyes scan the contents with bated breath, he turns the parchment over to read the second part as well, then he places it on the table and jumps out of his seat in order to run around the table and hoot with joy.

"I got in! I got in! I got in! I'm going to Hogwarts!"

"Of course you got in, you menace, your name's been registered since you were born," Severus points out. Despite the grumpy words and tone, Regulus can read the amusement and fondness in his partner's black eyes.

"Yeah, but now it's official! I'll live in the same castle as Mom and Papa, and all of you, and I'll get sorted just like you, and have classes with aunt Minnie and Sev, and play on the Quidditch team like Dad, Padfoot and Papa! Too bad Tonks won't be there this year anymore," Harry remarks, his excitement draining for a moment at the realization he won't roam the halls of Hogwarts with his favorite cousin, but he regains his enthusiasm quickly. "But Ron will be there, and Draco, and Daphne, and Theo, and Neville, and the twins! And I'll meet new people and make even more friends and it'll be the best thing ever!"

Regulus is openly smiling now at Harry's excitement, watching him finish his exclamation with a wide grin.

"Of course you will, emerald. It'll be amazing," he agrees and pulls Harry into a hug which, for all the recent griping and whining, he goes willingly into, and doesn't even complain when Regulus kisses his forehead affectionately. Maybe his boy isn't yet as grown as he's been claiming to be after all.

"Merlin save the castle and my sanity if all of you are going to be sharing the same space as the Weasley Menaces for months on end."

"I'll be the best Potions brewer in Hogwarts and it won't matter anymore," Harry boasts from within Regulus' arms, which he hasn't attempted to escape yet.

"I'll give you detention every day for seven years if you think that'll give you a pass to terrorize my waking hours at Hogwarts," Severus threatens mildly, taking a sip of coffee.

Harry sticks his tongue out quickly, as if not really wanting to risk Severus seeing the gesture, before he turns back to face Regulus.

"When can we go shopping for my school things, Dad?"

"We haven't even sent a response to the letter yet and you're already talking about shopping?" Regulus laughs, "I'll take you next week with Theodore and Draco. Let the rest of your friends know if they want to join us."

"Great! Thanks, Dad! I'll go and write the reply, bye!"

With that, Harry dashes up the stairs, his Hogwarts letter clasped in his hand , and leaves his father and step-father alone at the breakfast table, his own bowl of cereal lain abandoned beside his glass of orange juice.

"Gryffindor if I've ever seen one," Severus shakes his head and flicks his wand to direct Harry's dishes to the sink.

"Hufflepuff through and through," Regulus disagrees.

"We'll see."

"Yes, I suppose we will."