Postcards from Another Life, Part Two
IV. Christmas Eve 1980, 42b Cardross Street, Fulham, London W6
You won’t believe the things I’ve seen…
Regulus’ dreams were full of darkness, cluttered with swirling images of bleak caves and stormy seas, of Kreacher forcing that foul concoction down his throat. He dreamt of falling, of dying, of running and running until there was nowhere left to run to and nowhere to hide.
He drifted in and out of consciousness, never quite managing to open his eyes. The voices he heard were dislocated, incomprehensible, and they sounded like they were coming from far, far away. He could feel sweat prickling on his skin but he was cold, so cold, and shivering.
Someone was touching him, shaking him, pressing a cloth to his forehead and then pulling his mouth open. Regulus struggled feebly to get away, but they were stronger, holding him tight. Regulus coughed; a deep, hacking cough that made his ribs shake and brought water to his eyes. When the coughing subsided he felt a little more awake, but still very ill, and he could open his eyes just enough to see Sirius staring at him.
‘Relax,’ said Sirius. ‘It’s just a bezoar. Antidote to Common Poisons and Universal Antidote didn’t work. Here, drink this, it’ll help.’
Regulus’ hands shook too much to hold the cup, so he had to let Sirius feed him like a child. He gulped down the whole cup, then another, before trying to speak.
‘Thank you,’ he muttered. A few deep breaths and his wits started to return. ‘I can’t stay here, I have to go, it’s not safe…’
‘You’re not going anywhere,’ said Sirius firmly. ‘You’re not fit.’
Regulus opened his mouth to argue, but just as he did so his left forearm burned painfully. He grasped at it instinctively, realising only then that his lower arms were exposed - Sirius must have changed him out of his robes.
‘I was wondering when you were going to tell me about that,’ said Sirius.
Regulus flinched as the Dark Mark burnt darker and more painfully. ‘Sirius, it’s not safe, they’re coming for me. Leave me here if you must, but go.’
‘Gryffindors don’t run away, remember?’ said Sirius. ‘The flat’s well protected and we’re not going anywhere until you tell me about that. So talk.’
Lacking the strength to argue, Regulus admitted defeat. He may as well tell Sirius the whole truth now, maybe that would be enough to make him see sense and just get away now, before Voldemort turned up to kill them both.
‘You’ve seen the Dark Mark in the skies, right?’ he began, and Sirius nodded. Regulus swallowed hard before continuing. ‘Well, that’s not the only sort. The Dark Lord had the mark, like this, burnt onto the skin of his supporters.’
‘But you’re not a Death Eater.’
Regulus almost smiled: Sirius was the smartest person he’d ever met, but he could be awfully stupid about things he didn’t want to see.
‘It’s been nearly a year now,’ he whispered.
‘No.’ Sirius shook his head slowly. ‘Reggie, no, not you. Why?’
Regulus had expected Sirius to be angry. He could cope with Sirius’ anger, all the shouting and rages, and maybe even violence. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before and besides, Regulus knew that this time he deserved it. But Sirius looked more horrified than angry, and the expression of shocked disbelief, of shame on his brother’s face hurt more than any curse.
‘I…they wanted you, really,’ he said. ‘They came to the house, spoke to Mother…one of them was at Father’s funeral. You didn’t go.’
‘I had work to do,’ said Sirius quietly.
‘The Order?’
Sirius nodded. ‘Look, I know I’ve not been around much for a while, but that’s why. I knew you’d never join and it’d be safer - for you - if I just stayed away.’
‘Yeah, well, I thought it would be better for you if I was a Death Eater,’ said Regulus. ‘They told Mother they expected the House of Black to show its support for the pureblood cause. I thought if I didn’t, they’d only go after you.’
‘I’d never join the Death Eaters!’
‘And if you refused a direct invitation, they’d kill you,’ said Regulus. ‘Anyway, it’s probably better that you did stay away - if they thought we were still in contact, they’d have made me spy on you.’
Sirius shook his head. ‘Why am I so important? Surely one faithful little pureblood is as good as another?’
Regulus was spared from having to answer Sirius’ question by Remus’ arrival.
‘Hey,’ said Remus. He padded across the room and handed Sirius a small vial of clear liquid, planting a soft kiss on Sirius’ temple as he did so. ‘I see our patient is awake. How’re you feeling, Regulus?’
‘Fine.’ Regulus bristled slightly, feeling distinctly ill at ease with the scene of cosy domesticity before him, the quietly possessive way Remus’ hand rested on Sirius’ shoulder, and the fact that Sirius looked more comfortable just because Remus was in the room. He’d long since got over the shock of seeing them snogging in the dorms all those years ago, but this was different. Regulus felt like an intruder, all the more so when he realised it was almost certainly Remus’ pyjamas that Sirius had put him in, as Sirius likely didn’t own any.
Remus nodded and turned his attention back to Sirius. ‘Lily says to give him a few drops of that every hour, and to keep a note of his temperature before and after each time. She’s still testing the sample and will let you know if she finds anything new.’
Regulus blinks. ‘Sample?’
‘You puked up a load of whatever it was that poisoned you just after you got here,’ said Sirius. ‘Remus took a sample over to Lily to see if she could work out what you’d taken. Which means I’d better come up with a bloody good present on her birthday, since a mug of your vomit is the last thing she wanted on Christmas Eve.’
Belatedly, Regulus noticed the tinsel hanging from the ceiling and the enormous plush fox, presumably some sort of gift, sitting in front of the wardrobe. The fact that it was Christmas, with everything else that had happened over the previous forty-eight hours suddenly struck him as absurdly amusing and he found himself laughing, a low, slightly manic laugh.
‘You were just telling me about how you joined the Death Eaters,’ said Sirius, unamused.
‘He what?’ Remus started, but Sirius held a hand up to stop him.
‘Reggie?’
‘I haven’t got time for this!’ said Regulus. ‘I keep telling you, it’s dangerous. Yes, I joined the Death Eaters but I’m not one anymore and if you don’t stop chattering and listen to me we’re all going to die.’
‘Regulus, you’ve just admitted to being a Death Eater,’ said Remus, in what Regulus thought was an excessively reasonable tone of voice. ‘How do we know we can trust you?’
‘Because I’m telling the truth!’ exclaimed Regulus. ‘Sirius, you believe me, don’t you?’
Sirius bit his lip, conflicted, before looking Regulus in the eye. ‘Reggie, are you working for Voldemort?’
‘Not anymore,’ said Regulus. ‘Look, I can explain the rest later but for now you have to believe me: The Dark Lord doesn’t know I’m here and I’m not working for him.’
‘OK.’ Sirius nodded slowly. Remus still looked unconvinced, but didn’t speak.
‘What did you do with the robes I was wearing?’ asked Regulus.
‘They’re down by the bed,’ Sirius told him. ‘They were all wet and slimy, with blood on the sleeve.’
Regulus reached down and picked up his sodden robes. It only took a few moments of fumbling through the pockets to find what he was looking for. He pulled out a heavy gold locket, ornately engraved with a serpentine ‘S’ in the centre, and dangled it from its chain.
‘This,’ said Regulus, ‘is a fragment of the Dark Lord’s soul.’
‘A Horcrux?’ breathed Sirius. He took the locket from Regulus’ hand, placing it on his palm and staring in open astonishment.
Remus leant over Sirius’ shoulder, equally shocked. ‘I didn’t even know they were real,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard stories but…it just seems so outlandish. I thought they might be a myth.’
‘No, they’re real, it’s just no-one’s made one for decades. Or if they have, they haven’t been caught.’ Sirius turned the locket over as he spoke, apparently oblivious to the ‘how do you know so much about it?’ look Remus was giving him. Regulus had been on the receiving end of a few such looks from his Gryffindor dorm-mates, and felt no need to explain.
‘I wanted to destroy it,’ said Regulus, ‘but I haven’t got time. You’ll have to do it for me.’
‘What do you mean, you haven’t got time?’
‘I’m dying, Sirius. The poison I drank was the Dark Lord’s own creation - his protection for the Horcrux. The only way I could get to it was by committing slow suicide.’
‘Poisons have antidotes!’ insisted Sirius. ‘Which, granted might be harder to work out for something Voldemort made himself, but there’s bound to be a way. I’ll find a way - Lily’s helping and if she can’t crack it we’ll go to Dumbledore, he’ll know where to find Professor Slughorn and - ’
‘ - and if the potion doesn’t kill me, the Dark Lord will,’ said Regulus flatly.
‘Does he know you’ve got this?’ asked Remus, indicating the locket.
Regulus shook his head. ‘But he knows I betrayed him and, well, you don’t just hand in your resignation to the Dark Lord.’
‘We’ll protect you,’ said Sirius. ‘I’ll protect you. Bloody hell, Reggie, you don’t think I’d just let Voldemort kill you do you?’
Sirius’ eyes were bright, earnest, and Regulus thought that if it were possible to keep a person alive by sheer force of will, Sirius might just about be able to do it. But that wasn’t possible and there was no point in pretending otherwise.
‘If you try to stop him he’ll just kill you as well,’ said Regulus. ‘He’s got spies everywhere.’
Sirius folded his arms across his chest. ‘Not at Hogwarts,’ he said stubbornly.
‘I was approached by Death Eaters the first time at Hogwarts.’
‘And you didn’t tell me?’
‘It wasn’t that hard to keep out of their clutches back then,’ said Regulus. ‘There might not be any full-on Death Eaters inside the school, but there are children of Death Eaters and a load of Slytherin wannabes - all it would take is for one of them to catch a single glimpse of me.’
‘There has to be a way!’
‘There’s no way! The Dark Lord won’t stop until I’m dead!’
Sirius and Regulus glared at each other for a long moment, until Remus broke the silence.
‘Not unless someone else killed you first,’ he said.
The two brothers turned to look at him, open mouthed.
‘Even Voldemort won’t try to kill someone who is already dead.’
Regulus was still staring but Sirius grinned, then jumped up and kissed Remus full on the mouth.
‘Moony, you are a complete bloody genius,’ he said.
Regulus groaned. ‘Do I have to spend my last minutes watching you two get off with each other?’
‘Reggie, don’t be such an arse,’ said Sirius. ‘Don’t you see? The only thing that’s going to put Voldemort off coming after you is if he hears that you’re already dead.’
Sirius paused, apparently in deep contemplation as he chewed his lip and nodded slightly. ‘It has to be me,’ he said at last. ‘It’s the only thing that makes sense.’
Remus nodded in agreement, and Sirius pulled out his wand.
‘Sirius!’ Regulus tried not to panic: what were they talking about?
But Sirius didn’t answer him, just turned away and walked over to the window. He pulled it open, pointed his wand at the sky and muttered, ‘Avada Kedavra.’
Regulus could feel his heart pounding in his chest as Sirius looked down.
‘Poor pigeon,’ said Sirius.
‘Never mind “poor pigeon”, what the bloody hell are you doing?’
‘I’m faking your death,’ said Sirius, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. ‘Like Moony said, Voldemort won’t come after you if he thinks you’re already dead. Even if he finds out that you came here, that works in our favour - makes it more believable. So I’ll just say that you came here being all Death Eater-y or something, we fought, and I killed you.’
‘You could go to Azkaban for murder!’ protested Regulus. ‘And besides, who’s going to believe I’m dead without a body?’
Sirius shrugged. ‘No-one gets sent to Azkaban for killing a Death Eater; I’ll say it was self-defence. And if anyone wants to see your corpse I’ll tell them I burnt it to stop Voldemort turning you into an Inferius.’
‘I suppose it could work,’ said Regulus, trying very hard not to get his hopes up. Resigning himself to a certain death had been painful enough - the prospect of being granted a reprieve, but then having snatched away from him, was almost unbearable. ‘But I’ll still have to go into hiding.’
‘I’ll think of something,’ said Sirius, waving his hand. ‘For now, I’m taking you to Hogwarts: there might be some junior Death Eaters lurking in the Slytherin dungeons, but there aren’t any in Dumbledore’s office. We can take you straight there by Portkey. We’ll ask him how to destroy a Horcrux while we’re at it, because Merlin knows I haven’t the foggiest.’
Regulus nodded slowly. ‘Is that allowed? I mean, do you normally drop by the Headmaster’s office with injured Death Eaters?’
‘Dumbledore’s seen stranger things,’ said Sirius with a shrug. ‘Moony, can you go and ask him? And see if Lily’s found anything out yet as well?’
Remus nodded and turned to leave.
‘Wait,’ Regulus called after him. ‘You might as well tell her to come too. And James. There’s something else I need to tell you all - about the prophesy.’
‘You know about the prophesy?’
‘Later, Sirius,’ said Regulus. ‘I’ll tell you everything I know, I promise, but for now can we have less chat and more fleeing for our lives please?’
Sirius grinned and gestured for Remus to carry on with a tilt of his head. Once he and Regulus were alone, he set to work getting Regulus ready to travel, fussing around and pulling a set of his own robes over Regulus’ head.
‘So you don’t get cold,’ he explained. ‘I’m afraid the Portkey might make the nausea worse, but there’s not much I can do about that.’
‘Better than the alternative,’ said Regulus with a tiny smile. ‘Sirius, I…I’m sorry. I should never have joined the Death Eaters. You must be so disappointed with me.’
‘Yeah, well.’ Sirius scratched the back is his neck, looking away. ‘It was pretty fucking stupid, Reggie, even by your standards. But I reckon you’ve paid the price already.’
‘You’re not even going to hex me a little bit?’
‘Maybe later.’ Sirius turned to face Regulus, looking uncharacteristically solemn as he tucked a lock of Regulus hair behind his ear. ‘Look, Reggie, whatever you’ve done, you’re my brother and I love you. I won’t let Voldemort kill you. I’ll find a cure for the poison, get you away, destroy the Horcrux and then keep on fighting until Voldemort’s gone for good. And I’ll protect you.’
Regulus inhaled deeply as Sirius leant forward and kissed him on the forehead.
‘But for now,’ Sirius continued, ‘there’s this.’
His thumb stroked the Dark Mark tattoo, charcoal grey and ugly on Regulus’ skin.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘How does it work, Reggie?’ asked Sirius. ‘I saw it change colour earlier, and you said Voldemort would be after you - that means he controls it, right? Can he use it to track you, know you’re still alive?’
‘I…I don’t know,’ admitted Regulus. Stupid, stupid, he thought to himself. In all the time he’d spent watching how Voldemort worked, tracking down his secrets, he’d never bothered find out.
‘I can’t leave it like this,’ said Sirius. ‘I’m sorry, Reggie, I’ll have to take it off you - it’s too big a risk.’
Regulus nodded. He knew Sirius was right. ‘That’s going to hurt, isn’t it?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry.’ Sirius looked distraught, miserable at the prospect of causing Regulus any more pain. ‘I can try to burn it off, or cut below your elbow. It might not hurt so much to cut it off, but you’ll lose your hand.’
‘Burn it,’ said Regulus, with decisiveness he didn’t quite feel. ‘It was burned on to me, so it’s only fitting. I’ll…I’ll be glad to get rid of it anyway.’
Sirius nodded. ‘I’ll need your wand.’
Remus came back into the room just as Sirius raised the wand. Regulus saw Sirius hesitate, just for a moment, and put up his other hand to stop him.
‘Make him do it,’ said Regulus, indicating Remus with a jerk of his head.
‘This,’ said Sirius, turning Regulus’ arm in answer to Remus’ raised eyebrows. ‘Voldemort branded him with the Dark Mark. It’s magic, somehow, but there’s no time to work it out. We have to take it off him.’
Remus swallowed heavily, and turned to face Regulus.
‘You’re sure you want me to do it?’
‘Yes.’ Regulus nodded. ‘Sirius has done enough. You know how?’
‘I know of a spell,’ said Remus, ‘I’ve never used it.’
‘Do it.’
Remus waited long enough for Sirius to fetch a bottle of firewhiskey, and a towel for Regulus to bite on. Sirius clambered up on the bed beside Regulus, and held his free hand tightly. Regulus couldn’t bring himself to complain.
‘Are you sure about this?’ said Remus. ‘It’s going to hurt a lot.’
‘Just get it over with.’
It did hurt: scorching, white heat burnt his flesh, blazing through to the bone. Regulus’ skin bubbled and blistered as fire and magic exploded in his veins. He screamed and sobbed, burying his head on Sirius’ chest as the agony of Dark Magic being forced from his body ripped through not only his arm, but his entire body. Thick, acrid green-black smoke billowed up around him, and the scent of roast pork filled the air.
The spell must have ended because Sirius was holding him tight, stroking his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. Regulus clung to his brother as wave after wave of pain shot through him, his arm ablaze.
Regulus could just hear a crash in the distance over his own cries, the sound of footsteps, and Sirius’ voice calling out, ‘now!’ A jolt to his stomach and he was spinning, spinning away for what seemed like forever until he landed with a bump in the middle of Dumbledore’s office.
::
For the second time that day, Regulus awoke somewhere he didn’t quite remember arriving. His arm was throbbing, though it was now wrapped in bandages and thickly coated in soothing balms. Regulus fought back a combination of nausea and exhaustion to lift his head and inspect his surroundings.
He was in Dumbledore’s office, though it looked very different to the one time Regulus had been called to it after getting caught up in one of Sirius’ fights during his third-year. The vast desk that Dumbledore had peered at him over on that occasion was absent, and the room was full of people. Sirius was at the far end of the room, talking animatedly to Lily and James, though apparently keeping his voice down so as not to startle the infant resting on Lily’s hip. Remus was being interrogated by a portrait of Armando Dippet, whilst Dumbledore himself seemed supremely unconcerned by the disruption to his office, whistling to himself as he petted a scarlet-plumed bird - a phoenix? - and occasionally asking the portraits to keep the noise down.
Regulus himself had been laid out on velvet-upholstered chaise-lounge, and covered with a blanket which had obviously been brought up from the hospital wing. By his side was a small table with a pitcher of water and beyond that, the shelf bearing the Sorting Hat and the sword of Godric Gryffindor, the rubies on the hilt twinkling in the twilight. Regulus raised an eyebrow at the Sorting Hat.
‘Courage,’ he muttered, and his attempt at a laugh turned into a cough.
‘Reggie?’ Sirius was at his side in an instant, pouring Regulus a cup of water and sitting beside him, propping Regulus’ body up against his own. Regulus sipped at the water, spluttered slightly as the coughing died down.
‘Thanks,’ he said quietly. He looked up to see the other occupants of the room gathered around him, staring with a mix of concern and curiosity, and maybe just a bit of suspicion.
‘Regulus,’ said Dumbledore in an altogether far too cheerful tone of voice. Regulus had thought he’d at least have had the decency to keep his eyes from twinkling, under the circumstances. ‘Would you care for a lemon drop?’
‘No, thank you,’ said Regulus. ‘I need to know - the Dark Lord, is it safe? What’s happening?’
‘By now Lord Voldemort will almost certainly have been informed of your murder,’ said Dumbledore. ‘As have the Ministry. They took the matter so seriously that they’re sending the Head Auror, Alastor Moody, to question Sirius himself.’
Regulus’ eyes widened in shock. ‘Will he be all right?’
Sirius grinned. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘Moody’s one of ours.’
‘A deputation from the Order of the Phoenix will be arriving in London shortly to escort your mother out of the country,’ Dumbledore continued. ‘It appears that news of your death brought on a sudden desire to reconcile with your cousin Andromeda, and she’ll be joining the Tonks family on holiday in the Alps.’
‘I bet Mother loved that,’ muttered Regulus.
‘Almost as much as Andromeda did,’ Sirius told him.
‘As for you, Regulus, Mrs Potter has already made considerable progress identifying the ingredients used in the poison you ingested, and I have arranged for her to have full use of all Hogwarts facilities until she has found a cure. You yourself will stay here tonight until the Order is ready to move you to a safe house in the morning. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Regulus. ‘And… thank you.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ said Dumbledore breezily. ‘Since you are my guest for this evening, there’s plenty of time for us to have a nice little chat. Tell me, Regulus, what do you know about Horcruxes?’
‘A bit,’ said Regulus. ‘But there’s something else you need to know first.’
‘About the prophesy,’ said James. ‘Sirius told us you knew something about it.’
Regulus nodded. ‘That’s sort of how I ended up in the Death Eaters. In a roundabout sort of way.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Remember how I told you I was first approached while I was still at school?’ Regulus looked at Sirius, who nodded. ‘Well, that wasn’t unusual; almost everyone who’s pureblood and hasn’t already come out against the Dark Lord gets asked, at least indirectly. I wasn’t interested and that was that for a while - I didn’t have anything they particularly wanted, and I suppose they just wrote me off as another blood traitor in the making.
‘I didn’t hear any more until this time last year - I got a message on New Year’s Eve. Anyway, I can tell you the details later, but the main thing is that this time the Dark Lord was determined to get me to sign up. I didn’t know why, but I did know it had something to do with Sirius. I thought it was just because Sirius was in the Order - that he was angry that the son of one the oldest wizarding families in Britain was a blood traitor, and he wanted me to redress the balance.’
‘But it was because of the prophesy,’ Sirius said slowly. ‘Because I’m Harry’s godfather - he wanted to get to Harry through me?’
Regulus nodded. ‘He’s desperate to get to Harry, any way he can.’
‘We know,’ said Lily, cradling Harry’s head with her hand as she spoke. ‘James and I can’t be seen in public, do our own shopping, anything, because anyone who’s seen with us will be threatened for information about where we are.’
‘But you’ve hardly seen Sirius for ages,’ protested James. ‘Voldemort must know that Order members keep away from our families when we can, because it’s safer.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Regulus, ‘but like I said, he was considering all options. I don’t know, maybe he was just keeping me as a back-up or maybe he decided it would be too suspicious if I suddenly got in touch with Sirius again, but once I told him I didn’t know anything about Harry he let it drop.
‘He kept me on in the Death Eaters, though, used me as a sort of errand-boy. I was never very important but as long as I kept my head down I heard things, saw things, worked things out for myself. Much more than the Dark Lord realised.’
‘Such as the existence of his Horcrux?’ said Dumbledore. ‘An impressive piece of detective work, I must say.’
Regulus shrugged. ‘He was very interested in the Black family heirlooms, even took some books from Father’s library. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. But that’s not all.
‘I got to see more than most of the Death Eaters, so I found out most of their names. A lot of them don’t even know each other, but I did.’
‘And you’ll be able to provide us with a full list of names?’ asked Dumbledore.
‘You probably already know most of them, or at least suspect,’ said Regulus. ‘But there’s one you definitely don’t know about.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘What the Dark Lord has always wanted is a spy in the Order of the Phoenix,’ said Regulus. ‘It became almost an obsession after Harry was born - he was desperate to find someone close to the Potters, to lead him to Harry.’
‘But none of us would betray Lily and James,’ said Sirius.
‘Not everyone has your loyalty,’ said Regulus, offering Sirius a tiny smile. ‘The Dark Lord found his spy. He doesn’t know it himself yet; you don’t just come out and ask an Order member to hand over a baby. But there is a spy, and he’s been passing on secrets for a couple of months now. Just little things, trivial even. But it’ll get bigger and bigger until he’s in so deep he won’t be able to turn to the rest of the Order for help without incriminating himself.’
‘I see,’ said Dumbledore. Regulus noticed that his eyes weren’t twinkling anymore. ‘Can you tell us the name of this mysterious individual?’
Regulus took a deep breath before he spoke.
‘It’s Peter,’ he said. ‘Peter Pettigrew.’
::
V. 1st May 1981, Fire Lodge, Talisker, the Isle of Skye
…the adventures I’ve had.
Peter Apparated a few hundred yards from the Lodge, the Northern Wind whipping his face as he trod through sodden bracken. Through the mist and rain he could just see smoke from the peat fire drifting up from the chimney. He wrapped his robes snugly around him, and started walking.
Lily and James’ newest hiding place belonged to an old friend of Dumbledore’s, apparently, and was so close to the ends of the Earth that it would have been hard to find them even without the protection of the Fidelius Charm. It was hard to imagine that they could be safer.
If not for Peter, of course.
Peter shook his head and put the thought out of his mind. He had to do what was necessary to survive. For all their talk of loyalty and comradeship, he didn’t really believe his friends wouldn’t do the same if it were him; they barely spoke to him these days as it was. Sirius had been surly and distant ever since Regulus’ death at Christmas (only Sirius, Peter thought bitterly, could murder his own brother and then expect sympathy for it), Lily and James kept themselves cloistered away with Harry, and if Remus had any interests beyond Sirius’ cock and whatever secret research it was he was up to, he wasn’t sharing them with Peter. I don’t need them, Peter reminded himself, I need to survive.
‘Hi, Wormtail.’ James’ familiar face peered around the heavy oak door only moments after Peter’s knock, bog-brush hair as unruly as ever and his glasses crooked. ‘Terrible weather for spring, eh?’
They went through the familiar rigmarole war-time greetings; Peter’s transformation was awarded with a hunk of cheese, and Lily made a very old joke about venison when a large stag materialised in the living room. The whole thing was a farce, of course, but Peter went along with it without complaint. The Dark Lord would be arriving in a little over an hour, so the sooner he got out of there, the better.
Peter might have resigned himself to what he had to do, but he had no desire to witness the inevitable.
‘Sorry to drag you out here like this,’ James’ voice called from the kitchen as he made tea. ‘Sirius had something to do for the Order, and Dumbledore says it’s important to check on the Secret Keeper every day. Besides, we hardly see you these days; it’s as if we hardly know you.’
‘It’s fine, I don’t mind,’ said Peter.
James emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with three steaming mugs and some biscuits.
‘Mind you don’t ruin your appetite with those,’ chided Lily. ‘You’ll stay to dinner, won’t you?’
The minutes ticked by at an excruciatingly slow speed as Peter tried desperately to think of an excuse to leave. He couldn’t bear the thought of staying much longer, but if he aroused suspicion now, put the whole plan in jeopardy…well, he didn’t want to think of the consequences of that, either.
‘Peter, would you mind checking on Harry for me? I’ll just go and check on the potatoes.’
Peter nodded eagerly, glad that Lily had offered him the perfect excuse. Checking his watch as he walked to the nursery, he saw there were only minutes to go - he could sneak out of the window and Apparate away before they had time to miss him.
The nursery was in near-darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of a nightlight by the cot. Of course Peter had no intention of looking in the cot to check on Harry… but he could hardly fail to notice that it was empty.
Peter cast his eyes around the room, trying not to panic. Where was he? Had someone taken him? A momentary flutter of relief that Harry might have escaped was swiftly replaced by terror at the prospect of Voldemort’s wrath. Peter was on the brink of full-on hysterics, checking in the laundry bin and behind the wardrobe, when the door opened.
‘Lily!’ he said. ‘Harry couldn’t have, um, climbed out of his cot could he?’
She didn’t answer, just walked silently to the other side of the room. James followed, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. The soft click of a locking spell told him the door was sealed.
‘Lily, Prongs!’ called Peter, glancing wildly from one to the other. ‘What’s happened to Harry, where is he?’
Still not speaking, Lily lifted her hands and covered her face. Peter watched her, confused.
‘Lily, are you all right? Are you crying?’
Lily shook her head, her red hair swaying and then…starting to recede. In seconds she was taller, skin paler, robes fitting tightly across the shoulder, and hair short and dark.
Polyjuice Potion, Peter realised with horror, as the impostor’s hands lowered to reveal a familiar face.
‘What?’ Peter gasped. ‘You’re dead.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you,’ said Regulus, a sly grin travelling across his face.
‘But Sirius - ’
‘ - lied,’ a voice behind him finished.
Peter wheeled around to see Sirius advancing upon him, removing a pair of glasses as he walked.
‘I… you can’t,’ Peter protested stupidly, ‘I saw you transform. Polyjuice doesn’t work on Animagi.’
‘Actually, an Animagus using Polyjuice Potion to impersonate another Animagus will appear to take on the animal form of their subject as well as the human one,’ Sirius explained. ‘But I think we’ve got better things to discuss than magical theory, don’t you, Wormtail?’
‘Yes - him!’ Peter cast around, pointing at Regulus. ‘He faked his own death, Sirius, he’s a Death Eater!’
Sirius frowned as he drew his wand and pointed it at Peter.
‘Come now, you and Regulus ought to get on,’ he said. ‘Since you’re both traitors.’
‘It’s a pity for you really,’ added Regulus, raising his own wand, ‘that we betrayed different sides.’
‘I - I don’t know what you mean!’ said Peter.
Sirius took another step towards him, the tip of his wand just touching Peter’s neck.
‘You sold Lily and James to Voldemort,’ said Sirius, his voice cold with contempt.
‘I didn’t,’ said Peter. ‘I wouldn’t. Padfoot, it’s me, your old friend. Regulus is a Death Eater, he was never one of us. Who are you going to believe?’
‘Him,’ said Sirius flatly. ‘Not you, you pathetic little coward.’
Peter sucked in a few deep breaths, thinking hard. Whatever stunt Regulus was pulling, Sirius was obviously involved, and Peter knew better than to try and fight them both. And the Dark Lord would be here any minute, see that Peter had failed to deliver Harry to him… Perhaps that was it: if Peter could blame Harry’s disappearance on Regulus, and deliver both the Black brothers to the Dark Lord, maybe he’d be spared for losing Harry. If he could just keep them talking…
‘How did you do it?’ he asked Regulus. ‘The Dark Lord is sure you’re dead.’
Regulus smirked. ‘My brother and I are brilliant,’ he said.
‘We also know that Voldemort’s going to turn up in about a minute,’ added Sirius. ‘Yes, we’re just that good.’
‘Not good enough to fight the Dark Lord.’ Peter’s voice raised to a squeal as panic overwhelmed him.
Sirius frowned. ‘Silly Peter.’
‘We’re not going to face him,’ added Regulus.
‘I am,’ said a voice from the shadows at the far end of the room.
‘Dumbledore?’ Peter gasped. He was shaking, eyes darting around, frantically looking for escape.
‘You’re surprised to see me?’ asked Dumbledore as he walked to the centre of the room. ‘Yes, I do believe Professor Snape was meant to distract my attention for the evening, but it seems to have slipped his mind. How very remiss of him.’
‘He’s waiting outside with McGonagall,’ said Regulus. ‘Along with most of the Order and a couple of dozen Aurors.’
The colour drained from Peter’s face.
‘Yes, Snivellus is on our side,’ said Sirius. ‘Who’d have thought the greasy git turned out to have more of a conscience than you, Wormtail?’
‘It’s so hard knowing who to trust, isn’t it?’ added Regulus.
Peter fell to his knees, sobbing. He looked up at Dumbledore, pleading desperately.
‘I never meant to,’ he sobbed. ‘The Dark Lord, he has weapons you can’t imagine.’
‘Oh, but I think I can imagine,’ said Dumbledore softly. There was no trace of his customary good-humour, no twinkle in his eye as he spoke.
Peter gulped. ‘Are you going to kill me?’
‘No,’ said Dumbledore. ‘You will be delivered to the Aurors, and then taken to Azkaban to await trial.’
Weeping, Peter curled in on himself, hiding his face with his hands. They were wrenched away when Sirius and Regulus took one arm each, and then hauled him to his feet.
‘Sirius, please,’ whined Peter. ‘Spare me. I’m your friend.’
Sirius snarled. ‘Not any more.’
Peter screamed as the two brothers tightened their grip, and a jolt of magic pulled them all away.
::
VI. 14th August, 1986. Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.
It’s all turned out beautifully.
The sun was high overhead, beating down tropical warmth onto the tiny boat. Regulus squinted in the light, and scowled in mock-outrage when Sirius and Remus shot water at him from their wands. Lily held Harry’s hand as he leant over the deck, laughing at James’ tales of kracken and sea serpents.
Regulus breathed deeply, inhaling the sea air and enjoying the warmth of the sun on his neck. Though this was no holiday, it was the closest to one he’d had for many years. They’d all known that Dumbledore’s defeat of Voldemort would be only temporary, and the last five years had been a long, hard slog, tracking down and destroying the remaining Horcruxes, to say nothing of the endless trials at the Wizengamot. Out of hiding, Regulus had become a household name, the star witness whose testimony condemned a dozen Death Eaters to Azkaban.
Eventually the final members of the party arrived on the boat. Dumbledore, injured in battle, was supported by Professor McGonagall, whose tartan hat looked most out of place on the little craft bobbing in the middle of the ocean. One of Dumbledore’s hands was mis-shapen, gnarled and black, much like the charred flesh on Regulus’ forearm where the Dark Mark once stood. In his good hand he carried a golden ball that glinted in the sunlight.
‘Is that it?’ asked Sirius as they all gathered around. ‘It’s ready?’
‘It is,’ said Dumbledore.
They all stared at it. Inside the golden ball was layer upon layer of lead, and magic, an impenetrable shell that encased the locket Regulus had taken all those years ago. The Horcruxes gone, all that remained of Voldemort was a spirit, a wraith, some horrible spectre that none of them understood, except perhaps Dumbledore, who had captured him and trapped him inside the locket. Regulus didn’t know how he’d done it and for once he was glad not to know. All that mattered was that there was no escape from his prison.
‘He’ll never die,’ said James, peering at the ball. ‘Not really.’
‘It’s all very mythic, isn’t it?’ said Lily. ‘The ultimate punishment for the villain who craves immortality: let him have it.’
Remus looked up from the ball at Dumbledore. ‘Is this what you meant, that there are things worse than death?’
Dumbledore nodded, then turned to Regulus. ‘Mr Black, you took the first step on this journey - would you like to complete it?’
Regulus accepted the golden orb, which felt heavy in his hand. ‘The Dark - Voldemort,’ he corrected himself, ‘chose Harry to seal his fate. We might not have fulfilled the prophesy, but I think it’s his turn now.’
He looked around for Harry, who was munching on a biscuit that McGonagall had given him. ‘Harry, how far do you think you can throw this ball into the sea?’
‘I bet I can throw it really, really far, Uncle Reggie,’ said Harry, bouncing excitedly on the spot.
‘Come on then.’
Harry used all the power in his five-year-old arms to fling the ball a good two metres overboard. It glittered for a moment between the waves, then sank, taking the last fragment of Lord Voldemort to the deepest depths of the ocean. The assembled party stood and watched it disappear in silence.
Sirius let go of Remus’ hand and walked over to Regulus.
‘It’ll be time to go soon,’ he said. ‘Just another ten minutes until the Portkey takes us back to Scotland. We did it Reggie: it’s all over.’
Regulus grinned. ‘We did,’ he said.
Sirius beamed and pulled Regulus into a rough, impromptu hug, slapping his back before heading off to talk McGonagall into dancing with him around the deck.
Regulus turned and gazed out over the vast expanse of the ocean. They had done it, but Sirius was only half right about it being all over; the peace was only just beginning. They’d never found a complete cure for the poisoning he’d suffered retrieving the first Horcrux, but an elaborate mix of antidotes taken daily kept the worst effects at bay. His forearm was still an ugly mess of damaged tissue, but it didn’t hurt any more.
All in all, Regulus thought, his legacy of war wasn’t so hard to bear. Memories, his brother back by his side, a daily goblet of potion, and some really great stories to tell about how he got his scar.
THE END