Roots to Ground You 1

Roots To Ground You

Chapters 1-5

See the Main page for warnings.

Art by CoCo – Thank you so much

Change your opinions, keep to your principles; change your leaves, keep intact your roots.

Victor Hugo

Chapter 1 – Regulus Knows a Secret

June 1979

Regulus Black paced his room. He did not want to believe Kreacher’s recounting of what happened in the Dark Lord’s deathtrap cave, but Kreacher would not lie to him. He paused and assessed the affected house-elf who was sleeping in his bed. 

The Dark Lord left him for dead in that cave.  If he had not ordered Kreacher to return… he would have never known Kreacher’s fate or learned the Dark Lord’s secret. He still was not sure if that was a good thing or not.

At least, Kreacher was almost back to being healthy after days of caring for him. 

“How could he sink to such deplorable magic?” Regulus asked. “A Horcrux damages your being… your essence, not just your soul. It’s one of the fastest ways to drive you irrational and insane.” Regulus pushed both hands through his curls in distress. 

He looked at Kreacher. Large round eyes that were focused on him were a relief to see. Kreacher was awake. 

“This would explain some of his more questionable actions. He’s talking of killing other wizards. I know they oppose him, but we are not a big community…. If he kills off everyone who disagrees with him, there will be no one left!”

Regulus paced some more and continued muttering to figure out what his options were if any.

“Maybe that’s his true goal. Forget abolishing the muggles or ruling over them. This will lead to the annihilation of everything!” He threw his hands into the air. “With a Horcrux, he will come back if anyone does manage to kill him.”

His body stiffened at the idea of someone being able to stop the Dark Lord. He was powerful. People feared him and his name. Could anyone stop him? Was there someone more powerful than him? It was whispered that Dumbledore created a group to oppose him.  He was sure his brother and his friends were a part of it. 

If they did manage to triumph over the Dark Lord… there was the Horcrux. The Dark Lord would come back. No one would expect it. Returning from being ‘killed’ would tighten the fear-based hold he had on his followers and the wizarding people. From a strategic point of view, it was a brilliant way to convince people you were all-powerful… immortal… a god. He could not be stopped by death.

The Horcrux needed to be destroyed before that happened. The Dark Lord’s restoration could not occur. It was up to him to do it. He was the only one to know of its existence.

Regulus realized he could never be in the Dark Lord’s presence again. He would know that Regulus knew his secret. Regulus’ life would be worth nothing- as if it was worth anything to the Dark Lord now.  

He tossed out muttered curses about the idiotic, idealistic, self-centric followers of the Dark Lord like Dumbledore handed out lemon drops. They were the ones opening the door for the psychotic man to take control. Unfortunately, Regulus was a part of that group and cursed his own blind stupidity in the mess.

The locket Kreacher told him about would need to be retrieved and destroyed.  He studied Kreacher. He would not allow his elf to drink the liquid once more to retrieve the locket. He would do it. He was a dead man already. He would order Kreacher to destroy it. He would let the Dark Lord know he was not as smart as he thought he was by leaving a note letting him know Regulus Black destroyed his plans.

Regulus took a deep breath.  His hands were shaking. He told Kreacher his plan.

“Master Regulus, how is Kreacher to destroy such a dark object?”

Regulus froze at the question. He did not know the answer. Could the object be destroyed by standard means? If they were protecting something as precious as a soul, one would not want it to be easily destroyed. He needed to research. He could not leave Kreacher with such a malignant item and not give him a method to destroy it. How did he overlook that point?

Not destroying it would leave a path for the Dark Lord to come back, and Regulus’ sacrifice would be for nothing. No, he was not going to be that much of a Gryffindor about this. Sure the plan did sound a bit like his brother, and that made him recognize he needed to stop and think. He needed to treat this like the Slytherin he was.  He needed more information.

He checked to verify his parents were still gone and headed for the library. He found the section he remembered reading about Horcruxes in.  He pulled out several books and took them back to his room to look through to keep anyone from inquiring what he was up to.

The books were as he remembered. They told of Horcruxes and how people used them in the past only to eventually lose the thread of their plans and their ability to reason and make accurate assessments frayed and became skewed over time. When people came back using one, they were never the same and were not free of the damage. There was nothing beneficial about creating or using a Horcrux.

The problem with the Dark Lord was that he had created a support base before his insanity was clear to those around him. He was smart, even when insane. He lured them in with what they wanted to hear, and he trapped them by marking them. They could not get away from him.

He turned the page of the second book and noticed handwritten notes in the margins of the pages.

“Individuals beyond redemption follow this path and can not be trusted.”

“You have to be an idiot to do such a thing.”

“Some fools even make more than one.”

“Destroying them requires extreme means.”

What constituted extreme means? – Regulus studied the handwriting. It was familiar. It was not his parents’ handwriting. He recognized those at a glance. That meant he was exposed to it but not frequently – extended family then. It was not one of his female cousins. All three Black sisters had a more flowery artful script.

Regulus pulled a desk drawer open and pulled out several stacks of envelopes. It was all of his correspondence with family members over the years. He flipped through them until he found a match – Grandfather Arcturus. His fraternal grandfather Black was the one to leave the notes in the books. Based on the notes, Grandfather knew more about Horcruxes than what was printed in the books. It appeared he may know how to destroy one.

Regulus chewed on his lip. Could he tell his grandfather about this? Should he tell him? That could lead to his grandfather’s death. But… if he knew how… Regulus needed that information.

There was no way he would tell his parents about it. He could not trust them to be on his side. He was sure they would find the idea of making Horcruxes as abhorrent as he did, but they have always silently supported the Dark Lord… or at least his professed aims. It was part of the reason he joined the Death Eaters. He wanted them to be proud of him and prove he was the dutiful son. 

He did not know what his grandfather’s opinion on the Dark Lord was, he realized. He only knew what his mother claimed was the family party line. He had never heard anything from Arcturus’ own mouth on the topic. In fact, he hardly ever talked one-on-one with his grandfather. He only ever saw him at family events or with his parents – then his mother always took over the conversation complaining about how great their house was and how so-and-so was not living up to it. Then she would try persuading Grandfather to expel the individual from the family.  

Regulus examined the times he spent in his grandfather’s presence over the past several years. Nothing he did or said ever supported the Dark Lord. He did not say anything against him either. But, from the comment in the book, he would not follow the Dark Lord if he knew about the Horcrux. There was a chance he could learn what he needed to know without telling the entire truth… if he was Slytherin enough.

~~~~

Regulus approached the manor gates. He wiped his palms on his pants then muttered curses under his breath.  He pulled out his wand and vanished the moisture and wrinkles away.  The gates swung open when he stepped up to them. He walked up the path, fighting to keep his breathing steady and from betraying him.

An elf opened the door.

“This way, young Black. The master awaits you,” the elf said.

So much for him being his grandfather’s heir that Mother always said he was.  If he was, then he would have been greeted as Heir Black. He pushed those thoughts away and followed the elf through the dark hall. Entering the sunlit sitting room forced him to blink his eyes several times as they adjusted.

Grandfather was an imposing figure in the wingback chair. It reminded Regulus why he never wanted to visit his grandfather when he was a child. He scared the crap out of him, and he still did on an instinctive level. The scowl did nothing to alleviate Regulus’ nervousness. His mother’s voice reminding him that he was a Black and better than everyone else did nothing to help the situation.

“Regulus, have a seat.”

Regulus sat across the coffee table from his grandfather.

“Hello, Grandfather,” Regulus muttered but forced himself to sit up tall and look the older man in the eye.

The elf snapped in a tray of tea and biscuits. Grandfather fixed two cups with a wave of his wand and floated one to Regulus along with a plate of peach-filled biscuits.

“Your favorite,” Grandfather said.

“Yes, they are. Thank you.” Regulus accepted the cup and took a sip. It was made just the way he liked it. He should not be surprised that his grandfather took note of such things over the years. He would be a foolish Slytherin to not do so. Know your enemy and all that.

“What brings you to visit?”

That was not a Slytherin opening. However, Grandfather had age and respect behind him, which meant he did not have to play all the social nicety games. He held the greater power in this and probably most situations.

“I need information and advice.” Regulus pushed his lips closed. He shared more than he had planned in the first sentence. He glared at his teacup but knew there was nothing in it to cause truthfulness.

Grandfather settled into the chair with cup and saucer in hand. Regulus could not read the expressions beyond the surface, which showed vague interest.

“On what topic?”

Regulus forced himself to not fidget. He was on an important mission. He needed to stop the insanity. He was a Slytherin. He was a Black.

“How do you destroy a Horcrux?” he blurted out to his horror. He might as well be a Gryffindor with the way he was acting. He glared at his teacup briefly before forcing his eyes back to Grandfather’s face.

Now, Regulus could read what the man was feeling. There was the same horror Regulus had felt when he learned what the Dark Lord had done. There was shock at the question, and there was a core of steel supporting everything. That core of steel was what Regulus wanted to show to the world but seemed to be lacking at the moment. 

Grandfather managed to hide all his feelings behind his mask quickly.

“Why do you need to know that, and what makes you think I know the answer?”

Regulus shifted in a controlled manner to relieve his desire to fidget. “You made notes in the books about them.” He took a sip of his tea not wanting to answer the first question, but he knew he would eventually.  Grandfather stared at him without saying a word. He sighed. “The Dark Lord made one. I know where it is and plan on destroying it.”

One bushy gray eyebrow raised at Regulus’ confession.

“The whole story!”

He had taken a chance coming to his grandfather. He needed information and help. So far, Grandfather had not thrown him out or rebuked him. He was not pleased but seemed receptive to Regulus’ situation. 

He committed himself to this path when he approached the gate. There was no reason to hide it. Either way, he was doomed, but his odds of success were better with help.

Regulus obeyed. He told of loaning Kreacher to the Dark Lord and what he learned afterward.  How he realized what the insane man had done. He had been a fool to follow him… but his parents… Bellatrix… all the other Slytherins.

“What he said matched with what I’ve been taught all my life. We are better than muggles. We are better than the blood traders… always pure.”

Grandfather pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His hand dropped and he shook his head. Regulus got an impression of disbelief and disappointment.

“OK.” He closed his eyes for several moments, probably gathering his thoughts. Then he opened them and locked his dark eyes on Regulus.

“In my opinion, it’s a bunch of hogswallop.”

Regulus’ jaw hung open. He tried to close it, but it just returned to the open state. No sound came out of his mouth.

“We only have accurate family records back to Licorus Black. Everything before that is only family stories.”

“But… but… the tapestry….” Regulus did not know what to believe. His mother touted the tapestry as a family treasure.

“Your mother made that tapestry as a school project based on the stories of the self-updating tapestry that was destroyed back in the 1700s. She took every family history story, written or verbal, and used it to create it.”

“If she made it, why can’t she remove names from it instead of blasting them off?”

Grandfather chuckled and rubbed the tip of his nose with a finger. “That was because of your Uncle Alphard. He tampered with it when she was making it. He made it so no one could change it once complete. She was so mad when she realized what he had done. If she was a dragon she would have been breathing fire. Lucky for Alphard, she lived in a different house from him when she discovered it, so he avoided the brunt of her displeasure.”

“Why did he do that?” Regulus set his teacup on the table.

“They were siblings. What other reason do they need? Surely you and Sirius…”

Regulus shook his head. “Sirius does things because he hates the family and to spite us. I haven’t seen him since he graduated, and before then, I only saw him at school mealtimes. I might as well not exist to him.” The bitterness slipped into his words. He was better than this. He should not be showing his soft side so easily to his grandfather – you especially do not expose your soft side to family. They are the ones who can hurt you the most and the deepest. He had learned that lesson well.

Grandfather hummed and stroked his chin. “Once more, I believe I know only parts of the story. Which is not surprising. Tell me about your childhood and Sirius.”

Regulus shot up to his feet. “What? Why? There are more important things than what’s in the past.”

“Sit down, lad!” Grandfather barked. Regulus snapped back into his seat. “If you don’t know what has happened, how can you turn the board to your advantage?”

Regulus’ face flushed at the reprimand to a basic lesson.

“But… I don’t know how much time I have. He will kill me as soon as he realizes I know his secret, and I can’t hide from him because of the damn brand he marks us with… like we’re property.  That should have been my first warning sign.”

Grandfather was studying him again. “You are just full of issues to be worked out. Let me see that mark.”

Regulus slowly rolled up his right sleeve and moved to stand beside his grandfather’s chair.  Arcturus took hold of the arm and studied the mark. He waved his wand about. Regulus could feel his spells poking at the mark on his arm. Grandfather clicked his tongue several times at his findings.

“I can’t believe you young fools let him claim you as nothing more than servants,” Arcturus said after letting go of Regulus’ arm.

Regulus rolled his sleeve down and took his seat. “It was presented as a way to show our devotion to the cause, a badge of honor.”  

Grandfather shook his head. “And that did not ring any warning bells for any of you? A bunch of blind sheep.”  Grandfather settled into his seat. His wand was still in hand but not pointed at anything. “Do you know what that mark does?” he subsequently asked.

Regulus picked up his cup and sipped it to moisten his dry mouth. “Not before. After it quickly became clear the power he held over us.” The memories of the pain delivered through the mark made Regulus wince. “No one warns the new initiates because of fear and pride – and probably enjoyment for some.” He set his cup down. “This does not help me replace and destroy the Horcrux.”

Grandfather tapped his wand twice against his leg. His gaze seemed unfocused. He muttered, “I let the flash of one spell distract me from the important one in this battle.” He studied Regulus. “It might not be too late to win the war. I have a reliable acquaintance who has greater knowledge about such dark items.”

“No!” Regulus shouted as fear gripped him.

Grandfather chastened him with a raised eyebrow. Regulus shrank into his seat.

“I… the more people who know….” Regulus ran his fingers through his hair, disturbing it from the traditional slicked-back look. Pressure was building. The desire for action was warring with the need for information. Trust was not given lightly, and that was even more true in times of tribulation.   

Grandfather’s severe countenance eased. “We have an accord dealing with such matters. He will not betray you or me.”  

Regulus closed his eyes. He drew in a deep breath. He called on his training to think beyond his terror. He knew he was trapped and needed aid. That was why he came to his grandfather. If Grandfather trusted this man, then he would grant the man an opportunity to prove his worth. He opened his eyes and nodded.

Grandfather slipped his wand away. “Good. I’ll call him now to see when he can come. Then, we will talk about your family.

– – – – –

Regulus waited for his Grandfather’s acquaintance… friend… someone who he trusted with such a big secret and who had knowledge and experience with such items. He was not sure how to classify it, but they were close enough that the man agreed to come as soon as he could, which turned out to be within half an hour.

The sound of the floo activation and of someone entering pulled Regulus from his thoughts. He moved so he could see into the floo room.

Arcturus offered his hand. “Glad you could come.”

The visitor appeared to be slightly younger than his grandfather, but they probably were in Hogwarts at the same time. He looked harmless – a lot like an academic, but there was something about him that gave Regulus pause on trusting his first assessment.

The man shook Grandfather’s hand with a brief smile before his eyes lost their mirth. “You indicated you needed me on a topic of grave matters. Of course, I would come as soon as I could. You are not one to call Kraken when it is only a grindylow in the water.”

“It is.” Arcturus motioned for the man to follow. “My grandson Regulus has brought me some dire news that falls under your expertise.”

The eyes of both men locked onto Regulus lurking in the doorway.

“Marcus, may I present my grandson Regulus. Regulus, this is an old co-worker, Marcus Smith.”

The two exchanged greetings before being ushered into the sitting room Regulus had left earlier. They all took a seat and the house-elf refreshed the tea and biscuits. Regulus tried to covertly study Marcus. Smith was both a wizard and muggle surname which did not give him any clear clues on how to classify the man. He decided to follow his Grandfather’s lead in this.

Regulus took a sip from his now refilled cup.

“That mad wizard has made a Horcrux,” Grandfather said.

No amount of training in proper decorum could keep Regulus from spitting his mouthful of tea across the room at the blatant announcement. He stared at his grandfather with wide eyes.  Grandfather waved his wand, banishing the tea. Was that a sparkle of mirth in his eye? It reminded him of Sirius. –  His eyes must be playing tricks on him.

Marcus pressed his lips together and his head slowly nodded. “I can see why you wanted to tell me in person.” He turned his focus to Regulus. “How do you know this, Regulus?”

Regulus slowly breathed in.  He looked to his grandfather for guidance. Arcturus gave a nod of consent. Regulus recounted his story once more to this stranger. He felt he was falling deeper and deeper into an unknown he would never get out of… but what other options did he have. Anything else would let the wanker win.

Marcus’ fingers tapped rhythmically against the chair’s arm. His gaze was locked on the far wall at the end of Regulus’ story. Marcus let out a long breath.

“This is indeed dire, my friend,” Marcus said to Arcturus. Marcus’ gaze met Regulus. “Thank you for bringing us the information.”

“What can you do about it?” Regulus slapped a hand to cover his mouth. His eyes widened. What was wrong with him? Such a blunder would have his mother scolding him as soon as the words passed his lips.

“That will depend on what an inspection of the Horcrux reveals,” Marcus answered as if the interruption was not impolite. “Where was this cave?”

Regulus checked with his grandfather quickly before answering. “I don’t know the exact location, but my house elf does and can take us there.”

Marcus pulled a book and quill from his pocket and started making notes. Regulus looked to his grandfather to gauge his reaction. Arcturus appeared calm and unsurprised by the actions. He sat back in his chair and sipped his tea.

“The potion made your elf weak.  What other side effects were there? The more I know, the more likely the potion can be identified or at least have a possible counter on hand when we go after the item.”

Regulus managed to keep the shock at the blasé attitude from showing and answered Marcus’ questions. Once the man was satisfied, he snapped his book shut and tucked it away.

That was when Grandfather joined the conversation. “He has marked them all with a slave mark by claiming it’s an honor.” His lips curled into a sneer.

“Really?” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “That is interesting and explains a few things.” His fingers were tapping once more on the chair arm. “You examined the mark?”

“I did.” Arcturus set his teacup on the side table. “It’s entangled with the bearer’s magic. It allows him to call them, track them within the British Isles, and torture them through it.”

Regulus knew some of that but had not realized the extent. Marcus’ thoughtful gaze moved to Regulus once more. Regulus wanted to squirm under the intense look that made him feel like nothing more than an item to be taken apart for study. That was when Regulus began to wonder about Marcus’ job.

“Do the abilities go both ways?”

“No,” Regulus answered. “If he calls us, we know where we need to go. That is the only time we know where he is through the mark.”

Marcus nodded and appeared unsurprised by the information. Regulus admitted that anyone who knew anything about the Dark Lord would not find it surprising. He would not let his location be easily accessed even by his marked Death Eaters. They could break under questioning or turn on him… like Regulus was doing. No, the man may be insane, but he was not stupid.

“Do you think it can be modified or removed?” Marcus’ question was directed at Grandfather this time.

“I do, with the proper cautions and rituals after more study of the mark.”

Marcus did not blink an eye at the use of rituals which meant he was not a “light” agenda follower. Regulus knew he would not be since Grandfather brought the man in, but it was a relief to have proof.

“Good. Now that I know about it, we’ll have to study one to understand the magic behind it and use it to our advantage.”

Who would want to study the mark? Who would not bat an eye at unfavorable magics? Who would know about Horcruxes?

Regulus’ eyes widened. He looked from Marcus to his grandfather. Mentally he groaned as he blurted out, “You were an Unspeakable?” to his grandfather. He gave up all pretense of being a man of his station and slumped back into the couch, hands covering his face. “Stupid” he muttered.

Marcus’ good-natured laughter pulled him from his downward self-flagellating spiral.

“He’s a sharp one,” Marcus said.

“Do sit up, Regulus!”

Regulus obeyed his grandfather and tried to pull his tattered pureblood persona back around him. He could feel the frayed edges not meeting, letting his tells through. He did try.

“He appears to be smarter than others in my family. What is your plan?”

Marcus gestured to Regulus. “With his help, I want to get the Horcrux first.”

“I planned on replacing it with a fake so he would not suspect…” Regulus looked down at his hands as he admitted, “I also planned on leaving a note letting him know I took it.”

“Why would you do such a daft thing?” Marcus asked.

“I figured I would be dead from the potion by the time he discovered the swap.”

Grandfather muttered about youthful dramatics.

“I can appreciate wanting to gloat when safely dead. However, I don’t think we will be leaving him a note, but the fake in its place is a good idea.” Marcus had his book out again. “Since we don’t know exactly what it looks like, final modifications will have to be made on-site.” He tapped the end of the quill to his lips. “We will need a way to get all of us onto the island without disturbing the Inferi. I’ll need to see the cave and its protections first.  Is the elf yours or a family elf?”

“Kreacher is a Black family elf. He favors me and Mother.”

Marcus’ fingers tap rapidly. “Which of you does he favor more? Would he keep a secret from Walburga even if she ordered the information from him?”

Regulus thought about it. He did not know, but there could be a way to keep the elf silent.

“He would if he made a promise to me not to tell her, especially if it would endanger me if he told.”

Grandfather gave him an approving nod at the suggestion.  Marcus’ eyes lit up. He scribbled onto a new page before ripping it out and handing it to Regulus. “I suggest the promise be worded like this.”

Regulus read the wording that would neatly keep Kreacher from telling or hinting about the task they would be asking him. It was a well-worded promise that would protect all involved – including Arcturus by allowing Kreacher to imply Arcturus’ involvement if questioned. That would give the secrecy validity to the rest of the family. He handed the paper to his grandfather.

Arcturus read it and nodded approval.

“Call the elf!”

“Kreacher!”

The elf popped in to bow at Regulus’ feet.

“Master called. How may I serve?”

Regulus ordered Kreacher to look at him. Kreacher did but took a brief look around to identify who else was in the room.

“I need a promise from you.”

“Kreacher is Master Regulus’ faithful elf.”

“I know, but what I will be asking your aid for could endanger my life if anyone knows. The vow is to protect both of us from others outside of those in this room finding out.”

Kreacher’s eyes grew wide, and he nodded his head. “Anything to keep beloved master safe.”

~~~~

Kreacher took them to the cave entrance. Both Marcus and Arcturus ran magical scans that Regulus did not know.  Regulus and Kreacher sat back and watched the two older men confer over the readings and begin another set of diagnostic spells.

If Regulus had any doubt that they both worked currently or in the past as Unspeakables, they were now dispelled. He wondered if anyone else in the family knew about Grandfather’s career in the Department of Mysteries.

After an hour, the men were satisfied with the readings, and they all returned to Grandfather’s home where dinner was waiting for them.  Regulus sent Kreacher home with orders to tell his mother if asked that he was visiting Grandfather Arcturus. She should be happy with that and see it as him trying to secure his position in the family succession.

The meal looked good and the aroma woke Regulus’ absent hunger. Its ferocity took him by surprise, but it should not have given he had hardly eaten since learning of the Dark Lord’s true motives.  Regulus ate and listened to the older men exchange pleasantries and catch up while they ate. Once the dishes were cleared away and they retired to Grandfather’s study, they returned to the topic of the cave.

“Interesting defenses he put up.” Grandfather pulled many books from the shelves behind his desk. He handed several to Marcus.

They sat at the table Grandfather used for project work. Regulus felt like an unneeded observer but also understood that he was a useful tool that would not be let out of their sight. It also meant that he was under their protection. If they worked for the DoM then he was probably safe as long as Rookwood did not find out.

“Augustus Rookwood is one of the Dark Lord’s marked followers,” Regulus spouted. “I thought you should know in case you need DoM resources.”

Marcus’ fingers tapped on the table, an action Regulus was quickly attaching to the man weighing his next move.

“That’s good to know,” Arcturus said. “I hoped that the DoM was free of his people, but that was foolish of me.”

“Is he the only one?” Marcus asked.

“The only one I know of.” Regulus rubbed at the mark hidden under his clothing.

Neither man missed the gesture. Grandfather was the first to ask, “Is it bothering you?”

Regulus sighed. “No, but thoughts of the others in the department…” He shrugged.

“Could we create an array that would detect the mark?” Marcus tipped his head and contemplated Regulus. “Would you allow me or one of mine to study it?”

Regulus hesitated. He knew of deserters who had tried to remove the mark and died in the attempt. Regulus told them that.

“They did not have the resources or knowledge we have. Arcturus thinks it can be removed, and I trust his judgment when dealing with such magics. We would start with a diagnostic before trying to modify or remove it, with your permission.”

Regulus could see the appeal to the knowledge, the tactical advantage of detecting the mark, and the value of modifications if they wanted to turn a Death Eater to be their informant. Regulus froze.

“I think he just caught on.” Marcus laughed. It was not a mean laugh like he had heard from others in school or his fellow Death Eaters. It was a laugh of delight and good humor.

“I believe he has. But, I believe he will best serve us by being out of the country. His occlumency barriers will not stand against the madman and could lead to him learning that his secret is out and Regulus’ death. There will be others that can be turned for the right incentives.”

Marcus nodded. “What have you planned to explain about him being out of the country and out of the Dark Wanker’s grasp?”

Regulus bit his lip to stifle the snort at the name.

Arcturus leaned forward against the table with a smug twist of his lips. “I’ll be sending him out for training on the various Black estates I own.”

Marcus’ returned the smug look. “Saying so much with so little.”

Arcturus shrugged, but there was an entire conversation that passed between the two men that Regulus could not decipher. It gave him hope of surviving his current situation. He would put his trust and life in their hands. 

“That will keep him off the radar for a few years. Hopefully, by that time we will have things handled here. Push comes to shove, we can remove the mark and fake his death until it’s all over.” Marcus nodded his head while he talked.

Grandfather waved his hand in acceptance.

“Where would I really be going?”

“Depends on what we discover and your choice.” Grandfather focused on Regulus. His dark eyes were unreadable but expectant. “You can learn the ins and outs of estate management, or you can work for who we work for.”

Regulus let the words settle before responding. “The DoM here… but Rookwood?”

Marcus drew Regulus’ attention with a flick of his hand. “We have ways around Rookwood, but I believe your grandfather is thinking of having you trained at InterMyst Headquarters.”

“What is InterMyst?”

Marcus chuckled. “Not many truly know about it. It’s the international equivalent of the DoM. All Department of Mysteries, around the world, have some connection to the International Mysteries. There are just some magics that need a united international oversight.”

That was not something Regulus had considered before. He had never truly thought beyond England. He was never encouraged to see beyond his homeland. Sure, he knew about other countries’ magical areas, schools, and governments, but he never saw them as important or pertaining to him.

Even the position of Supreme Mugwump had no bearing on the Wizengamot or wizarding life of England. But what if it did? What if it was behind the scenes? What did he know about the workings of the larger world? Nothing. He was possibly being offered a chance to get a peek behind the curtain. That was not a chance he could pass up.

Grandfather gave him an indulgent look before focusing back on his book. They flipped through the books and read several sections before they discussed how to get around the cave’s defenses.

“I think I can get around the dampeners he placed on magical travel with the temporary ward matrix.” Marcus tapped a passage in the book he was reading. “I think using this set of warding stones combined with a Hepthenian arrangement will create a tunnel through his anti-magical warding.”

Arcturus pulled the book to him and read the passage. “I think you are correct. You might want to change the rune base to harmonize with what he used in the cave.”

Marcus rubbed his chin. “You may be right. I can bring a set of each to see what works best.”

The two swapped ideas. Regulus was utilized as their secretary and to fetch new books or paper. They spent several hours working out ways past the Dark Lord’s defenses, defenses that Regulus believed impenetrable. It was just one more illusion ripped from Regulus’ eyes about the man he swore to follow and about how the world truly worked.

Chapter 2 – The Locket

The three were once more outside the cave that housed the Dark Lord’s Horcrux, four days from their first visit. Marcus and Arcturus swiftly bypassed the cave’s protections. They had no trouble getting to the island and the pedestal. Regulus kept an eye on the dark shadows lurking under the water. He was ready to cast a fire spell at a moment’s notice if any Inferi emerged from the depths.

Marcus cast diagnostic spells at the pedestal and bowl. “Nasty, but what we expected.”

Arcturus looked at the readings floating between them and shook his head. “Merlin’s balls! He doesn’t seem to know what over-kill is.”

“But he’s also overconfident.” Marcus’ wand tapped at a section. “He doesn’t think anyone can get around it. If we set up an Isis field, I think we can simply summon the locket from the bowl without anyone having to drink the liquid.”

Arcturus nodded his head. In minutes they had the magical field set up and the locket in hand.

Marcus held it by the chain away from his body. “Mother Morgana! This thing is fucking malicious. Will you do the honors of modifying our fake?”

Arcturus held out the replacement and cast spells on it. He flinched when he was finished.  He handed it to Marcus who had put the real one away in a special box. “Does it feel the same to you?”

“Yeah.”

Marcus carefully placed the fake locket into the bowl. Then they removed any trace of the magic they had worked in the area.

Getting out was as easy as getting in, to Regulus’ relief. He breathed easier once they were out and away.

~~~~

Regulus tried not to look like a wide-eyed child as they led him into the depth of the Department of Mysteries. All three of their identities were hidden by magical cloaks. Marcus’ badge let them through security and bypass several main passages. They moved down through the department and into a ritual room.  Marcus secured the door once they entered.

Marcus went to the workbench and placed the box on it. He grabbed several items and handed them to Arcturus. Arcturus set up for the ritual without any prompting. The two moved around each other setting things up and were finished quickly and efficiently.

The last thing they did was place the locket in the center of the ritual circle. The malevolence emitted grew once it was enclosed in the circle’s wards. Regulus could clearly feel it. It made his mark sting.

Grandfather noticed and marched up to him demanding his arm. Regulus rolled up his sleeve and offered it to him without question. Grandfather picked up a quill and circled the mark in runes with swift efficient strokes. He muttered a spell and the pain stopped.

“It’s only a temporary block between you and him. It will keep the shard from interacting with you and alerting him.”

“Thank you,” Regulus said.

“We should have thought of that beforehand.” Marcus shook his head at their oversight. “Quick thinking.” He turned back to the circle and locket. “What can you tell us?” He cast several spells and did not look pleased. “The idiot made more than one!”

That was something Regulus had never considered. Who would divide their soul more than once? If Regulus had followed his initial plan, it would have been useless. His sacrifice would have been in vain since there were other Horcruxes out there keeping him tethered to this world.

“Can you tell how many he made?” Arcturus asked.

Marcus shook his head. “I only know there are more than one because there is less than half a soul in this one. I would guess around an eighth.”

Arcturus tapped his wand to the palm of his hand. “So he made at least three. Three is a magical number.”

Regulus cleared his throat. “He wouldn’t stop there. He would go for seven.”

He had both men’s attention now.

“I don’t know if he has made seven, but he would see seven as more magical and his ultimate goal.”

“I can see that being his thinking. Riddle always thought he was bigger than he was.” Arcturus looked back at the locket. “He would defile a founder heirloom with a piece of his soul. He would see it as fitting… what he was due.”

“Riddle?” Regulus asked.

Marcus seemed just as interested in the answer.

“Tom Riddle is the Dark Wanker’s real name. He was a year ahead of Orion. He always came home with things to say about the half-blood upstart.”

Marcus looked shocked. “You are sure he’s the same person as the wanker?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

Marcus shook his head. “Not to me. Walk me through it.”

“Riddle was nothing much but started making waves when he learned he was from the Gaunt family.”

Marcus’ face scrunched up. “That bunch inbred their magic away.”

Regulus was surprised at such a statement and flinched thinking of the close relations of his parents. Marcus noticed.

“Your family will come to no harm as long as you marry outside the close family for the next few generations.”

“How do you know that’s true?” Regulus’ curiosity was roused. This was not the line the pure-bloods took on the topic.

Marcus waved a hand in the air. “I’ll get you the research when I can. I’m more interested in the Riddle bloke.” He looked at Arcturus expectantly with his book in hand.

“He was a Parselmouth and a descendent of Salazar through his mother. He used that to his advantage when in school. That’s where he started cultivating his propaganda and followers. Orion was indifferent to him but admired the man’s ideas and drive. He would say that there may be something to them. Although, he was adamant that he was not going to follow a half-blood.”

Regulus felt like he had been hit with a knee-reversal hex. “Does he know Tom and the Dark Lord are the same person?”     

Arcturus sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know how he can’t be suspicious after all the complaining he did about the boy. The message and plan are the same. Tom just claimed a jumped-up moniker and changed his looks.”

“And mother?”

“She was ahead of them in school. I don’t know if she paid the younger years any attention or if Orion told her.” Arcturus squeezed Regulus’ shoulder.

“They, mother more than father, pushed me toward him… they wouldn’t follow him, but it’s the right thing for me to do!” Regulus balled his hands feeling betrayed by his parents and everything they taught him. “Maybe Sirius was right in running away.”

Arcturus pulled Regulus into a hug, surprising him. He could not remember ever getting a hug from his grandfather. He did not know how to respond.

“Seems I’ve failed you both. We still need to talk about that.” Grandfather held him at arm’s length. His eyes reflected his sincere determination to make that happen.

“You’ve been walking the fence for years to keep the upper hand and the Black political power from the extremists,” Marcus said.

“It seemed like the right thing at the time… but at times…”

Marcus patted Arcturus’ back. “Cheer up, you have the best chance to redeem the family right there, and who knows what we can do about your other grandson or other members of your family.”

Regulus stepped back. “Bella’s a fanatic follower. She threatened my parents’ lives if I didn’t join when I hesitated.”

Arcturus rubbed his brow and shook his head at the newest revelation. “If they only followed proper cleansing traditions instead of getting bogged down by the black magic residue. It leads to madness every time.”

“Cygnus ignored your many warnings about her leanings,” Marcus said.

“Wouldn’t do a thing about it. They’ve all let the darkness twist them as a rebellion against the ‘light’ and its growing list of magic they oppose because they see it as dark.”

“It’s all messed up, I know. Has been for years. I blame Dumbledore.”

Arcturus sighed and seemed to push it all away. “Anything else we can learn from the locket?”

Marcus deactivated the magic protections. “Not at the moment. Nephthys at InterMyst has the beginning magical theory for locating soul pieces, but she hasn’t had anything to test it on.” He placed the locket back in the box. “I think this could be just the thing she needs, and we will be able to locate the other soul pieces if she succeeds.”

“It doesn’t exist?” Regulus asked.

“You would think it would,” Marcus said, “but it doesn’t. We can only identify them when we come across them, not track them.”

Grandfather sat on one of the stools. “Most Horcruxes found are of long dead wizards with only one split. Their spirit is still out there without support to get a new body. They are stuck. The Horcrux is destroyed and the remaining part is freed from this world.”

“Hence no need to track soul pieces.” Marcus waved the box through the air. “However, this one gives us an opportunity we haven’t had before.”

“She’ll be thrilled,” Arcturus said.

Marcus chuckled. “That she will.”  

~~~~–

Regulus finished his floo call to his mother letting her know that he was spending the evening with Grandfather Arcturus again. She was pleased, as he expected. This laid the groundwork for him getting out of England. 

He joined Arcturus at the table for dinner. He pushed the green beans around on his plate. “What are my odds of getting out of this mess alive?” Now that he had hope, that question had been weighing on him.

Grandfather placed his silverware down on his plate and gave him all his attention. “Better now than they were before. I can not guarantee that Tom will not hunt for you, but I doubt he will if led to believe what you are doing will benefit him in the end.”

“He’s always wanting financial and political support from his followers.” Regulus stabbed a bean. He slowly nodded his head as he sorted out the correct path. “I should write to Cousin Bellatrix about the opportunity you are giving me.”

The corners of Arcturus’ mouth curved. “I think that would be an excellent move.”

Regulus placed the green beans in his mouth while he composed part of the letter. “She will be so pleased that I’m trying to secure more of the Black resources for the cause.”

Arcturus picked his silverware up and cut a piece off his baked fish. “I am sure.” 

Regulus’ appetite returned. He stopped playing with his food and ate it.

“What is Narcissa’s position on Tom?”

“She has never said anything one way or another in my presence other than to imply agreement only when needed. She stays behind the scenes like most of the wives. Bella is one of the few exceptions.”

Arcturus hummed and took a sip of wine. Regulus watched him but did not know what it signified.

“Your mother has always insisted Sirius dishonored the family by being sorted into Gryffindor. She implied he was rebellious and demanded he was removed from the family.” Arcturus caught Regulus’ gaze. “I knew there was more to it, but it did not seem important at the time to dig further.” Arcturus shifted and nearly pressed against the table. “I require that information now.”

Regulus gulped at the imposing presence his grandfather emitted. He pondered the best starting point and what was the starting point. Regulus took a sip of his water.

“As long as I can remember, Sirius and Mother have been at odds. Small things at first. What he should wear, how he should fix his hair, how to act. The demands did not seem out of place to me, but Sirius is contrary to his core.” Regulus pulled up long ago memories of a six-year-old Sirius refusing to put on the “proper” clothing for some event. “One time, Mother gave him an ultimatum to wear the clothes she picked out or nothing at all.”

Grandfather’s lip turned up at the corners. Mirth danced in his eyes.

Regulus continued, “He came downstairs without any clothing and a smug grin on his face. Mother was horrified. Father was amused but hid it – mostly.” Regulus smiled, finding the mirth in it as an adult and not as a small frightened kid who longed for things to go smoothly and without yelling for once. He had no doubt that Sirius would have gone to the dinner naked and enjoyed every minute of it. “Mother screamed at him for quite a bit before spelling the clothes on him with threats for him to behave.” 

“Did he?”

Regulus cocked his head while trying to remember. “I don’t remember Mother being upset with him afterward, but she did keep him at her side. The fight for control between them got worse as he got older. She wanted him to be the perfect Black heir – her version of the perfect Black heir. She forced him to study family history,” he snorted, knowing now about the tapestry, “and dark magic.” He rubbed his ear, troubled at a resurfaced memory. He met his grandfather’s eyes. “I think she may have even used them on him. I wasn’t there, but Sirius would return with a look in his eyes. I didn’t understand it then, but… but I’ve seen it in those subjected to dark magic.”     

Grandfather rubbed his temple. “He refused to break… at least in the way Walburga wanted him to.”

Regulus nodded his head. “He became more determined to be his own man and sure that everything the family stood for was evil and wrong.  Sorting into Gryffindor was the biggest ‘fuck you’ he could throw into her face.”

Arcturus nodded, following the progression.

“Knowing Walburga, she tried even harder to control him when he was home.”

Regulus pointed at Arcturus. “Exactly. The fighting got worse each time we were home. Sirius reveled in flaunting all she despised in Mother’s face while she tried to scream him into submission. One night, spells were cast.” Regulus dragged his hand over his mouth. He moistened his lips and breathed in. Memories of the rapid spell exchanged flying through the house accompanied the yelling. They got darker and nastier with each volley. So did the words. “Mother cast the Imperius Curse at him. It hit him. Father stepped in. The spell had hit and Mother thought she had won – she looked so triumphant until Sirius growled at her. He said… he told her he would never be the puppet she wanted him to be. She would never control him. He summoned his things and walked out the door…. He walked away. He didn’t look back. He didn’t slam the door. He showed no emotion – and it’s the scariest sight I have ever seen.

“Sirius is always – always expressive – happy, sad, mad, hate, hope, amused – he always showed it. Even when he hid what he was feeling, the mask was expressive. It had to be to not give it away, but that night…” shivers shook Regulus as they had then, “that night there was nothing. It might have been the closest to broken that I had ever seen him.”

Regulus used both hands to press against his mouth before dragging them down with an exhale. He remembered feeling unsettled by everything, but this was the first time he assessed why.

“He gave up on us that night and found a new family that would love and accept him as he was and not force him to be a figurehead for their power grab.”

Regulus closed his eyes to hold back the emotional maelstrom inside of him. Sirius walked out leaving him behind to become his Mother’s focus. Mother’s insane need to be the purest of pure – the epitome of wizards and his need to please her put him on the path he now walked. If he had not sought answers for Kreacher, he would be dead. 

A warm hand on his shoulder pulled him from his introspection. Grandfather now sat in the chair beside him.

“I’m sorry.”

Regulus shrugged. “What could you have done?”

“Poisoned her.”

Regulus snorted and laughed before the thought of being appalled poked at him. Grandfather pulled him into a hug before it could get a hold. Strong arms wrapped him in warmth and protection. Regulus sagged into the long-forgotten hold of someone willing to protect him.

“We’ll work it out.” Arcturus rubbed his back.

Regulus snorted. “Or die trying.”

“Not the preferable option.” Arcturus pulled back. “Talking about options – what is your choice? We need to get moving on that before Tom tries calling you.”

The elves replaced the dinner plates with pudding.

“I’ve started down the path of contributing to his defeat. I want to continue down it. Will they let me help in the Horcrux research?”

Arcturus finished chewing his bite of pudding. “That can be arranged after the research into the mark. Nephthys is in need of a new junior assistant.”

“What happened to the last one?”

“Marcus said he refused to work for her after spending two days roaming InterMyst without his body.”

Regulus’ eyes widened. “He’s still alive?”

“Yes, they were studying astral projection.”

Doubt crept up on Regulus. He had no desire for his soul to wander around without his body. Determination beat it away. He had a mission to see through. Nephthys’ group was his best bet at completing it.

“Once you are involved with the Department of Mysteries and InterMyst, you are always part of it. It will be your calling until you die.”

“So you are still an Unspeakable,” Regulus said. He had guessed from the conversations over the past few days. “What about people like Rookwood?”

Grandfather leaned back into his chair. “There are levels of involvement and recruitment. Rookwood is in an entry position.  They know the basics of the DoM and work on some of the mysteries. How they handle that will prove if they are worthy or not for the greater secrets the InterMyst studies and protects. Many never pass this stage.”

“You have a secret organization hidden behind a secretive organization.” 

“What better place to put it. Everyone expects there to be secrets they are not privy to.”

“But, I will not be starting at that level,” Regulus said.

“No, we are bringing you directly into InterMyst. You know too much already to start at the DoM entry position, and it wouldn’t get you out of the country. Plus, the study of souls is a small group based out of InterMyst Headquarters with a lot of time in Cairo.”

The information thrilled and terrified Regulus. This was an opportunity beyond any he had dreamed of before, and yet, it was an opportunity that he always wanted. This was a chance to learn more about magic and understand the mysteries of the world. Knowledge was power even if he could only share it with his co-workers. But first, he had to outlive Tom and see him destroyed.

“Others will accept me skipping over the trial period?” 

Grandfather chuckled. “There’s more than one way to be approved for the position. In your case, it’s sink or swim. If you sink, all memories of the DoM and InterMyst will be stripped from you or you will be killed depending on the reasons for failing.”

Regulus caught the inside of his lip between his teeth. He was not surprised that such drastic actions would be taken. It hinted at the direness of the secrets they held and protected.

Grandfather’s hand rested on Regulus’ shoulder. “You will do fine. You have a goal to drive you and keep you on task. You understand the need for some mysteries needing to stay mysteries to the general population.”

~~~~

Regulus signed his name with a flourish. He completed his letter to Bellatrix and handed it to Grandfather for final approval. Arcturus nodded and handed it back to him.

“Well worded. She will read what she wants to read between the words.”

“Thank you.”

Regulus placed it in an envelope addressed to his cousin. He set it on the table beside the one for his parents. Both letters would be sent once he was safely in Dijon, France. 

“We should be off. Marcus will meet us there,” Arcturus said.

Regulus picked up the bag Kreacher had packed for him. “I’m ready.”

Chapter 3 – New Path

July 1979

Marcus ushered Regulus through the magical district in Dijon, France on the lovely July day. Magic saturated the air just like the magical districts at home. Marcus ducked into a stationery shop. Regulus was quick on his heels. 

“Meeting with Quizzel,” Marcus told the man behind the counter.

He nodded to them and gestured to the back. Marcus tapped his wand on the frame of the backroom door and pulled Regulus through the doorway. They stepped into a reception room. Regulus stumbled feeling like he had just traveled by floo or portkey. He looked back and there was only an empty door frame in an alcove. There was no sign of the shop.

Marcus spoke with the cloaked and hooded individual at the desk. The individual directed them to the seats around the room. Marcus settled into a seat. He picked up one of their scattered periodicals and flipped through it. 

Regulus slowly eased onto the chair edge. He looked around the room. The windows were charmed to show other locations because no two contained the same landscape. There were two other alcoves with odd door frames, and there were no visible doors out of the waiting room.

Regulus wanted to ask questions, but he feared asking and showing his ignorance. He curled his fingers under his legs to keep both from fidgeting while they waited. He could not tell if the receptionist was looking at them or his work – it unnerved him. That was probably what was intended.

A door appeared behind the desk and opened. There was a backlit human shape standing in the opening. Marcus dropped his magazine and stood up. Regulus sprang to his feet as well. The man stepped through and the light dimmed.

“Marcus, good to see you,” the man said as he walked with his hand extended to them.

Marcus exchanged a hearty handshake. 

“Come to my office, and we can get down to business.”

Regulus followed them into the bright room. The door snapped shut behind them.

“Cover your eyes,” Marcus warned.

Regulus did just before there was a flash that leaked through the cracks of his fingers.

“Spell detection analysis complete,” said a female voice. “Please proceed to the next room.”

Regulus dropped his hands. The small room they were in was plain and uninteresting. A door in front of them opened.

“Welcome back, Marcus Smith and guest,” said the woman who greeted them on the other side of the door. She handed each of them a robe like the receptionist. 

Regulus pulled his on and tugged the hood over his head. He felt the concealing magics engage. He looked at the other two and was surprised he knew which one was Marcus.

“Guest cloaks are connected so you can identify other members of your party and not get lost,” the yet unidentified man said.

“That’s helpful,” Regulus said.

“Yes. It’s very irksome to find lost guests when identities are concealed,” he grumbled.

He led them into a large bustling room that reminded Regulus of the Ministry’s atrium. 

“Welcome to the Caverns,” their guide said.

People were entering and exiting from various halls and swiftly moving through the area. Looking up through the round opening, Regulus’s eyes passed over at least a dozen floors. Memos were flying through the air and between the floors. There were four sets of glass elevators transporting people.

Marcus grabbed Regulus’ arm and pulled him into the nearest elevator. Their guide pushed the button and the glass cylinder rose. Regulus turned and watched the activity around him as they moved up.

The path to the office was winding. The halls reminded Regulus of the Gringotts tunnels with how smooth the stone had been finished.   

“Where are we?” he asked.

“We are underground in a cave system,” their guide answered. “Here’s my office.”

Regulus was impressed with how big the office was and wondered where the man fell in the hierarchy structure. What was the hierarchy structure for the place? 

He shut the door and pushed back his hood. Regulus pushed his back following Marcus’ lead.

“Quizzel, this is Regulus Black and the one to bring to our attention the issue for Nephthys. Regulus, this is Quizzel, Assistant Director of this place.”

Quizzel nodded to Regulus. “Nice to meet you. Related to Arcturus, I take it.” 

Regulus sat up straighter. “Yes, sir. He’s my grandfather.”

“So what mysteries have you brought us?” The question was addressed to Marcus.

“That bloody wanker that’s stirring up trouble in England has made several Horcruxes and is branding his followers with a slave mark.” Marcus placed the box containing the locket on Quizzel’s desk. He gestured to Regulus. “It’s only because of the kid that we learned about the Horcrux we retrieved.” He tapped the box with a finger. “My tests proved that it’s not the first he made. I figured it would be right up Nephthys’ alley. She can have it to test her theories on and figure out a way to locate the others so the madman can be taken out.”

“I think I need the entire story, Marcus.”

“Regulus should start it since it starts with his house-elf.”

Regulus told his story once more. It came easier this time. He ended with Grandfather Arcturus bringing Marcus in.

“You should take over from here. I was there, but I don’t know what you did to retrieve the locket,” Regulus said.

Marcus gave an overview then gave specifics on the magic they used. Regulus had been there, and he had no clue what Marcus was talking about. It was all high-level magical theory mixed in with procedures. When he finished, Quizzel looked very dower.

“So you have brought several projects to my door. One, Arcturus believes the mark can be removed with a bit of study. Two, before removing the mark or if we can’t, we should try blocking the connection to Tom so he can’t track Regulus through it. Three, develop a method to detect the mark to identify Death Eaters in our mists. Four, Nephthys can test her theories and find a way to locate Tom’s other Horcruxes. Five, put together a team to hunt for the Horcruxes once we can locate them. All of them involve the kid.”

“Yes.”

“If we don’t, Mr. Riddle could return once killed.” Quizzel drummed his fingers on his desk. “I’d rather send in a retrieval squad and capture him, dose him with veritaserum to get the location of the items from him, and then kill him.”

“You would have to locate him and get past his followers without attracting the wrong attention. Not to mention that would be pushing the scope of the agency,” Marcus said. 

Quizzel pointed at Marcus. “And that’s the wall I can’t get around. Convincing the International Confederation of Wizards that they need to act by sending hit wizards into one of the member countries….” He shook his head. “We won’t get permission to do it.”

“Dumbledore and the other British representatives have always been obstacles on that point,” Marcus said.

“He won’t let you stop Tom. Why?” Regulus asked. 

“Power and politics.” Marcus huffed. “Right now everyone sees Tom as a British problem. Dumbledore and the British Ministry for Magic don’t want to look bad by having outside forces come in and take out their boogeyman. Everyone is happy to ignore the issue on an international level.”

“But his followers are not only from Britain.” Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know of at least one from Bulgaria.”

Quizzel leaned forward against his desk. “How many identities of Death Eaters do you know?”

“The interrogation begins,” Regulus thought. He had been expecting something like it since he agreed to this path. 

Regulus shifted to look Quizzel in the eye. “I personally am sure of the identities of a handful. I know of several supporters, if not marked, from conversations and eavesdropping. My cousin likes to share her opinions and is in the inner circle.”

“She’s so free with information?” Quizzel asked.

“She believes me to be loyal and bound by family traditions. I’m harmless in her eyes.”

“Which means many others will see you as harmless as well,” Marcus said.

Quizzel pulled parchment and quill to him. “Names!”

“My cousin Bellatrix Lastrange. She’s the one to push me over the line to join. Her husband and his brother. Lucius Malfoy but his wife, my cousin, is not marked. She avoids discussing it when she can. I am unsure of her true loyalties.

“Bellatrix talks a lot about Barty Crouch Jr. running with them. I have not personally seen him at a meeting…” Regulus shrugged. “If he is not marked, he probably will be in the future.” By the end, there was a list of forty individuals who supported or were marked followers.  

“Thank you.” Quizzel placed the parchment in his desk drawer. He tapped on a rune-covered box. “Time we bring Nephthys in on this and introduce her to her new assistant.” 

A woman strode into the office. Based on her features, Regulus suspected she had Mediterranean roots, and her style of dress reminded him of images of Egyptian wizards he had seen in books. She nodded to Quizzel. Her dark eyes landed briefly on Regulus before locking on Marcus.

“Dear Marcus, I hear you have brought me an item to further my research.” She strode to a free chair. Her turquoise robes swayed around her. 

“I have.” He pointed to the box on Quizzel’s desk.

She leaned closer and pulled her wand. She cast what Regulus guessed was a diagnostic spell and clicked her tongue. “Well warded box. I’ll have to wait to get it into my labs for inspection.” She adjusted the orange scarf draped over her head and around her neck. “Give me the rundown.”

Marcus did all the talking this time providing the researcher the details that seemed pertinent to her. She nodded and inserted a few questions along the way. 

She clasped her hands together. “This could be exactly what I need.” She directed her attention to Regulus. “Thank you for providing it to me. What were your NEWT scores and your preferred classes?”

“I got five O’s and one E. I’m good at charms and transfiguration.”

Nephthys tutted and shook her head. “I don’t want to know what you are good at. What classes did you prefer?” She raised a dark eyebrow expecting an answer.

Regulus swallowed. She radiated a no-nonsense authority and control. It was similar to Professor McGonagall but less militant. She was not someone Regulus would want to cross.

“Ancient runes and herbology.”

“You will definitely need runes. How are you in arithmancy?”

“I got an O.”  

“Spellcraft?”

Regulus’ face scrunched in question.

“They don’t teach spellcraft at Hogwarts anymore,” Marcus said.

Nephthys let out a huff that clearly conveyed her disdain at the news. “No wonder the new English recruits are behind everyone else. What other basics are they lacking?”

“Basic warding, beginning alchemy, any true grasp on history and government at all levels, ritual magic unless taught at home,” Marcus listed flicking a finger up with each one. 

She adjusted her scarf again. “Your country’s education is appalling.”

Regulus had not realized they were lacking so many courses. Everyone always said Hogwarts was the best school in Europe. 

“And you, what do you know on these subjects, hmm?”

“Nothing on alchemy. I read books on warding in the family library, so my experience is only theory and not hands-on experience.”

“Smart to not try unsupervised,” Quizzel said. “Nasty accidents.”

“I know some about ritual magic, but it was not something my parents practiced.” 

Nephthys nodded, appearing satisfied with his answer. She swiftly stood and scooped up the box. “Come, I will show you around and get your credentials made.”

“Make sure to take him to Joseph to get preliminary readings on the mark,” Quizzel ordered.

Nephthys waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Of course.”

Marcus nodded his head for Regulus to follow Nephthys out of the room. Regulus pulled his hood up over his face and wondered why Nephthys’ robes were different and distinct. She adjusted her scarf once more and stepped through the door. Her robes transformed to look like what the others wore. He was taken by surprise when she caught his arm.

“Let me tie you into my glamor so we can identify each other.”

Regulus nodded. She pulled her wand and cast. Regulus could see through the masking magic of her robes.

“Come!” She set off at a brisk pace that had Regulus trotting to catch up to her. 

~~~~

After showing him the various departments of research within the InterMyst, she took him to one of the sub-departments of Magical Workings. She knocked and entered one of the small workrooms.

“Joseph, I’ve brought a project from Quizzel.”

A gray-haired man hunched over a worktable looked up and blinked owlishly at them through his large glasses. He seemed confused for a moment before jumping from his seat.

“Quizzel did send me a missive,” Joseph said in accented English. “You must be my patient.” 

“Yes, sir,” Regulus said.

“Sit! Let me have a look at it.” Joseph gestured to a table and chair.

Regulus rolled up his sleeve and rested his arm on the table. Joseph pulled his wand from its spot tucked over his ear and waved it around. Regulus recognized them as the spells his grandfather had done on him only a week ago. He was surprised to find comfort in that small fact.

The man muttered to himself and jotted down notes. He moved on to unfamiliar spells. They all seemed diagnostic in nature.  Joseph stepped back and slipped his wand back behind his ear. He pulled out a missive and opened it.

“My findings agree with the ones Quizzel sent. Definitely a slave bond. It will not interfere with the InterMyst contract, so you can get his admission paperwork finished.” He looked back at his papers. “I will need to get a spell schema from it to study before doing anything.” He looked around his room. “I’m not set up for that. Tomorrow.” He faced Nephthys. “Can you bring him by around 10 AM tomorrow?”

She pulled a small book from her robe and flipped through it. “That will work.” She tapped the page with her wand. Regulus saw writing appear on what looked like a calendar. She snapped it shut and put it away. “We must be off.”

Joseph nodded and shooed them away. 

Nephthys led him through the building and to her labs where she started filling out paperwork. “Read this and then sign.” She handed him several parchments. “It’s your admission paperwork.” 

Regulus carefully read the papers. He checked for hidden writing and other methods of contract deception. He got himself enslaved once, he was not going to do it again.

Nephthys gave him a smirk as he cast the third charm on the paperwork.

“There’s nothing hidden on those, but it’s always prudent to check.”

“There are fairly hefty clauses about secrecy,” Regulus commented.

“Part of the job – Unspeakable and all that.”

Regulus returned to reading. Nothing was unexpected. Grandfather had warned him what to expect and what would be required of him in magic and oath. He was beginning to understand the need based only on a few things he had seen during their tour. At the end of the document, Regulus signed the contract. He felt the oath magic wrap around him and bind him. He let out a deep breath. His next step on his new path had been taken.

~~~~

Regulus followed Nephthys to her lab the next day.  It seemed being her assistant was a lot like being an apprentice. Room and board were provided by his new teacher. Last night he unpacked his things in her spare bedroom. 

Staying with her was a relief to him. It gave him a secure place to reside and someone who knew the local area. She had already introduced him to the local bakery where they grabbed breakfast before heading in through a different entrance. 

Once they were within the lab’s security, their robes’ obscuring runes were deactivated. 

Nephthys clapped her hands together. “Time to see what you brought me.”

She carried the box containing the locket into a containment circle painted on the stone floor. She levitated the locket out of the box and into the center. She activated the circle then called him over. 

“Take a look. What do you notice?”

“Those are not standard runes,” he said. He walked the perimeter and studied the runes. “Egyptian?”

“Some Egyptian but the majority is cuneiform script or based on it. I’ve found that it works best for my research.”

Regulus completed the circle and stood beside his new mentor. “Cuneiform? I’m not familiar with that.”

She snorted and waved her hand. “Of course you wouldn’t. It’s the first form of writing we know of and found in the Mesopotamia region.”

“Why is it better than regular runes?”

“Written words hold power no matter who created them. With the creation of writing, many doors were opened, new ways of communication were available, information could be passed and records kept. There is magic in words and in their written form. If there wasn’t, runes would do nothing.”

Regulus pushed his hands into his pockets and stared at the glowing lines. He had not considered what gave runes power before. He just assumed it was his magic.

“Words are used in spells to direct our magic. Runes do the same, but if they did not represent a word or concept, they would just be scratches in the dirt. Each culture holds different ideas as important. That importance transfers to their words and writing and to magic cast using them.”

“How do you know that?” Regulus watched her from the corner of his eye.

“Department of Magic Studies,” she said. “You can read their research in the record room, if you like, but on your own time.”

Regulus nodded.

“So the older the writing the better it works?”

“Not always. Depends on what you are doing. It seems to be true when dealing with the soul.”

“Egyptian for the same reason.” 

“More words and concepts dealing with death and the ka or soul.”

“Allowing for more targeted workings,” Regulus said.

“Exactly!” She faced the locket and pulled her wand. “Let’s see what we can discover from this trinket.”

The next hour Regulus watched Nephthys cast spells and create records. He tried reading them, but they were too technical for him to fully follow. She released the wards and returned the locket to its box.

“Interesting,” she hummed. “That was the third Horcrux he made.”

“Can you tell how many he made?”

She put the box into a safe. “Not yet. I suspect there are others from the odd readings I got.” She spread the papers out on a table. Her keen eyes raked over them. She stabbed her finger at a series of numbers. “I’ve never seen reading like these from a Horcrux before. I also have never had a Horcrux so fractured before.”

“What do the readings mean?”

Nephthys explained the results and what she suspected some of them meant. She theorized that a certain set of readings were the tie to the owner of the soul – the founding soul section. Without such a tether, how would the founding piece be kept from passing on when the body died? That was the purpose of a Horcrux. Each Horcrux made after the first would have a connection to the founding piece, but she did not know if they would have a tether to each other. She planned to suss that out with her study of the locket. But, she would need more readings for that.

“Will you be able to locate the other pieces from that?” Regulus pointed to the safe.

“I hope to.” She gathered up the papers and put them in a portfolio. “Time to see Joseph about your arm.”

~~~~

Sirius Black was not in the best of moods. Both his mother and grandfather had sent him letters. Grandfather had sent letters that he incinerated as soon as he recognized the writing. Mother sent a howler to crow about Regulus’ estate training under Grandfather Arcturus. He had not been fast enough on the draw to destroy the howler before it went off, but he destroyed it as swiftly as he could. 

He answered the knock at his flat door. Arcturus Black stood in all his stern glory looking as dark as any Black family member. He thought he was quit of the lot of them, but they kept turning up like a bad knut. 

Sirius squared off in the doorway. “What do you want?”

Arcturus lifted a brow. “I thought that would be obvious. I would like to speak to you. I tried writing, but my letters did not make it to you intact.”

“I couldn’t imagine why they didn’t.” Sirius glared at Arcturus. “I can’t imagine why you sent them in the first place. I’m not part of the family. I haven’t been since the summer after my fifth year when I left the dark pit Walburga likes to call home. What need do you have of me when you are training perfect little Regulus to follow in your pure-blood, muggle-hating footsteps.”

Arcturus said nothing. He did not react to Sirius’ vitriol-filled words. He did look expectantly at Sirius. The calm angered Sirius. He readied another volley of insults but was interrupted before he could start.

“I see Walburga has already stirred the cauldron.”

Sirius huffed. That was an apt description of his mother’s actions.

“She has never known when to leave well enough alone.” Arcturus shook his head.

That was the most expressive he ever remembered seeing his grandfather.

“May I come in? I have business to discuss with you.” 

“I don’t know what business we have to discuss.”

“Family business.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “I have been reliably informed that I have been cast out of the family along with the others who have besmirched the name Black.” 

Arcturus rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes. That was not standard Black protocol. Sirius pointed his wand at the man before him.

“Who are you?” Sirius growled.

The next moment, his wand was no longer in his hand.

“The person who I appear to be.” The man manhandled Sirius into his flat and closed the door. “The same person who found you and Narcissa slinging mud at each other while standing knee-high in my pond.” 

Sirius was pushed into a table chair. His possible Grandfather sat across from him. The stolen wand rested on the table between them. Sirius weighed his chances on retrieving his wand.

“Maybe you could grab it, but I doubt you would be fast enough.”

“What?”

“You have not changed. Your every thought is clear on your face and in your body language for people to read. You were deliberating on the odds of taking back your wand.”

Sirius glared at the man who was most likely his Grandfather.

“Legilimency?”

Arcturus sighed and shook his head. “Use your brain, boy. Did we have eye contact?”

Sirius sunk into his seat at the chastening words. The answers were obvious. He was once more jumping to conclusions.

“Do you need any more proof that I am Arcturus Black or can we move on?”

Sirius tried to think of ways to verify his visitor’s identity. 

“What’s your cook elf’s name?”

“Cottontail.”

That was something only the family would know and no one impersonating Arcturus would bother to find out. Sirius crossed his arms.

“What do you want to talk about?” The sooner they ‘talked’ the sooner he would leave.

“You are my heir.”

Sirius’ mouth dropped open. “What? No.” He waved his arm in the air. “Not a Black anymore. Cast out of the family and all that.”

“Sirius,” Arcturus snapped. 

Sirius sat up straight and gave Arcturus his attention just like he had as a kid.

“Walburga is full of hippogriff dung and can only control who she considers a Black – not who everyone else accepts as a Black, despite her Herculean efforts.”

“What?” Sirius wondered what potion he had been slipped and who slipped it to him. Those words could not be coming from his grandfather’s lips.

Arcturus snapped his fingers in his face. “I know you are smarter than this.”

Sirius shook his head. He looked around. He was in his flat. Nothing looked out of place except Arcturus sitting across from him. He pinched himself. It hurt. Not an illusion or dream.

“What if I don’t want to be a Black?”

“What if I told you Walburga fed you a bunch of lies and propaganda growing up and not the path I want for the family legacy?”

“What about Orion or Regulus?”

“Are we playing questions?

“What?”

“Repetition.”

This was not his grandfather. His grandfather did not act like this or know anything about muggle radio plays.

“You will find, I know more than you think I know and am not as rigid as you think I am.”

“But Mother…”

“Forget anything your mother ever said about me and the family. It’s skewed and fabricated.”

“What?”

Arcturus lifted a brow but continued his case. “Walburga embraced the pure-blood rhetoric and ran with it.”

“The others?”

“Oh, they all believed it to some level, even you.”

Sirius shot up. “I do not!”

Arcturus relaxed into the chair. “There is always someone that humans think they are better than even in a small way. Wizards all think they are better than Muggles. Pure-bloods think they are better than other wizards. You think you are better than the rest of your family.”

Sirius raised a finger but let it fall to his side. He could not argue against any of the statements. He smashed on the part of him that wanted to argue just to argue. The sooner Arcturus said his piece, the sooner he would be out of his life once more. Sirius balled his fists under the table and pushed his anger away to weigh what was being said. It contradicted beliefs he had longed held. Beliefs built on his observations. He was not wrong about them being dark blood purists. What was Arcturus basing such accusations on? Had he succumbed to the Black madness?

“Bull shit!”

“Which part?”

Sirius sputtered. This was not how interactions with his family went. One of them would say something inflammatory and they would end up in a fight. This calm attempt at a rational conversation was throwing him off his game.

“About the Blacks not being dark.”

“Did I say anything about them not being dark?”

Sirius opened his mouth and stopped a moment to review. “No.”

“I won’t deny that some in the family are pure-blood snobs.”

“Some! They are all muggle-hating monsters.” 

Arcturus flicked out fingers as he listed names. “Andromeda, Alphard, Cedrella, Dorea, Cassiopeia, Lucretia, Lycoris, and you, I assume, – eight all born in the last three generations who did not.” 

Sirius did note that the majority of names on the list were female relatives. Andromeda, he knew, was disowned. Bellatrix and Walburga had a lot to say about her going off and marrying a muggle-born. 

Uncle Alphard never said much on the topic, but he was always amused with Sirius sowing mischief at gatherings. He could see Alphard not following the party line but not saying anything about it. Walburga would have swooped down on him the moment he had.

Lucretia was his father’s sister, but he only remembers seeing her a few times growing up. She and her husband travel a lot. The last four were of Arcturus’ generation. In fact, Lycoris was his sister. 

“At least three of the eight were disowned, and the others married into other families,” Sirius pointed out.

“Or we don’t waste our time trying to change the bigoted minds. Unfortunately, I see how that has allowed the youngest generation to take the ideas to a more warped level.”

“Why don’t you do something about it?”

Arcturus chuckled. “You make it sound like I can issue a decree and it will be followed by the rest of the family.”

Sirius reared back. “You can’t?

“Circe help us! What are they teaching you?”

“Mother implied…”

Arcturus’ hand cut through the air. “The more I hear, the more I believe your mother is insane.”

“I won’t argue with you on that point,” Sirius said. “Why did she use you as a threat against me?”

Arcturus sighed. “I don’t know. We are not a noble patriarch family where the family head dictates how the members should act. If that was the case, I would have put a stop to them following the dark wanker when this first started. The only power I hold over the others is the hereditary Wizengamot seat and to whom I leave it and my holdings.”

“What?” Sirius shook his head. He must have misheard that. “You don’t support Voldemort?”

Arcturus scoffed. “That jealous little prick, no. No matter what he says, he is making a personal power grab. The entire wizarding world will suffer because of it.”

Sirius sat up. “Why don’t you oppose him or work with those who do?”

“Like Dumbledore.” Arcturus snorted and flicked his finger. “No, I will not be one of his sycophants.”

Sirius bristled at the implication.

“No need to get your back up. I have my reasons.” He locked eyes with Sirius. “Who said I’m not opposing the Dark Lord? Not all actions are done in view of others.” He tapped the table. “Back to why I am here. You will inherit my holdings and the seat. Although what you appear to know about the power structures of our world is lacking. Training is in order. You will come to dinner on Sundays to remedy that.”

“What about Orion?”

“I refuse to allow Walburga to have control of any of my estate. Passing Orion over was part of the marriage contract. In the end, the choice of heir is mine.”

“If I don’t want to?”

“Then I will pass it to another though choices are slim. Think on this, do you want one of your other relatives to have the seat and my estate to support the current dark lord?” Arcturus stood. “Dinner is served at six.”

Arcturus let himself out of the flat while Sirius watched.

~~~~   

Sirius threw the wrench across the room and growled. He glared at the motorcycle in the middle of his flat where his couch and coffee table usually sat. A wave of his wand summoned the tool back to him. A knock preceded James opening the flat door, letting him and Lily enter. 

“Hey,” James greeted. He scanned the room. 

Lily ignored the impromptu mechanic shop and placed the bags of takeout on the table. James stood beside Sirius looking at the bike. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“Nothing,” Sirius bit out. 

James side-eyes him. “Tune-up?” 

Sirius tossed the wrench into the toolbox.

“Come eat!” Lily had the food out of the bags and on the table.

They all sat down and dished up lunch. James filled Sirius in on the gossip from the alley.

“Peter said the Wigtown Wanderers and the Montrose Magpies are scouting the same seeker. There’s quite the kerfuffle about it.”

“I’m sure,” Sirius muttered and took another bite of his sandwich.

The couple focused on him. Sirius slowly chewed and swallowed before acknowledging their stairs. “What?”

“Even I can see something’s eating at you.” Lily poked him in the arm. “Talk.”

Sirius opened his mouth to brush it aside but stopped at the concerned looks his friends were giving him. He sighed.

“Grandfather Arcturus visited me yesterday.”

“Here?” James said with incredulity and looked around. “Nothing’s destroyed.”

Lily punched James’ arm. “You’re not helping.” She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Why did he visit?” 

“To tell me I’m his listed heir and he expects me to come to dinner on Sundays to learn about his holdings.”

James shook his head. “But I thought he was training Regulus? That’s what I’ve heard gossiped about for the last few days. Let’s not forget your mother’s howler to let you know.”

Sirius scratched his ear and reviewed the conversation. Then he snorted a laugh. “He neatly sidestepped it with misdirection both times I brought that up.”

“But you were disowned.” James looked as perplexed as Sirius had felt during the visit.

“Not by him, apparently.” Sirius pulled at their conversation thread and tried to distill them into an explainable whole. “He said very unflattering things about Walburga.”

“Has his opinion of her changed or always been that?” Lily leaned further into the table and toward Sirius.

“They’re Blacks,” James said as if that was enough explanation.

It would have been for Sirius before the talk with Arcturus.

It was Lily’s turn to snort. “That’s no better reason for something than they are Slytherin or Hufflepuff or muggle-born or redheads.” Anger flashed in her eyes. She dismissed James and homed in on Sirius. “What has he said about her in the past?”

Sirius took another bite of his sandwich to buy him time to examine his past interactions with Arcturus. His brow furrowed as he came to a surprising realization. “I don’t know… I think… I believe that was the first conversation I’ve had one-on-one with him.”

“Surely not! What about the family gatherings you complained about getting dragged to once we were back at school in our dorm room?”

Sirius cocked his head pulling at memories he had shoved into the darkest closet corner and tripled locked the door. “They were family gatherings… every adult was jockeying for his attention. I would get away and hang out with the other kids as soon as possible.”

“Did you ever visit him with your immediate family?” Lily asked.

“Yes… but,” Sirius shook the cobwebs from his head, “…Walburga dominated every conversation that was started. Heaven forbid we discuss the latest quidditch scores when her opinion on the latest Wizengamot law or ruling needed to be shoved down our throats once more.”

Lily leaned back in her chair and tapped her lip. “What did he say about her?”

“He called her a liar and insane.”

James choked on his food. “In those words?” 

“He said what she taught me was skewed and fabricated and he thought her insane after hearing what she taught me.”

“Sounds like you might not know all of your family as well as you thought you did,” Lily said.

Sirius barked a laugh. “That’s exactly what he pointed out to me.”

“But Blacks are following You-Know-Who.” James waved a hand in the air. “Just look at Bellatrix. We suspect Regulus. Your mom and dad supported his ideas. The rest just haven’t said anything.”

“There you go tarring everyone with the same brush,” Lily scolded.       

“But, Lils…”

“Arcturus did point out several family members who didn’t fit my idea of a Black.”

“Who?”

Sirius ended up recounting the majority of the conversation to them by the time he answered their questions. He found that their reactions and questions helped him sort things out for himself.

“You should have dinner with him,” Lily said with the authority of a queen.

“He should?” James’ face scrunched up, and he shifted back surprised his wife would say such a thing.

She ignored James and pointed at Sirius. “You obviously don’t have all the facts. Your beliefs about the Blacks are built on childhood impressions.” She held up her finger before either man could counter her. “I’m not saying they are baseless. I’m saying that we don’t see everything and often only see what interests us or what hinders us. You admit to not giving your Aunt Lucretia much thought or interacting with her much. You, therefore, don’t know much about her. She did not have an impact on your idea of what a Black is.”

“But everyone knows…” James sputtered.

“Nope,” she demanded. “What if I said all pure-blood wizards look down on muggle-borns?”

“But that’s not true,” James protested and started to name off wizards and witches to prove his point.

“Andromeda Black married a muggle-born,” Lily said. “Just like not all pure-blood wizards hate muggle-borns, not all Blacks are the same. And, you can’t say the exceptions don’t count.” Lily threw her hands into the air. “James, I’ve been having this same argument with you since first year, only the group changes.”

Sirius noted Lily changed the wording from “look down” to “hate” in her example. It reminded him of Arcturus’ statement about everyone thinking they were better than someone. Did Lily feel like all pure-blood wizards and witches looked down on her for being a muggle-born? She was a brilliant and talented witch. But she would not have made the word change without reason. Did she think that he looked down on her? He questioned her taste in friends, but not because she was muggle-born. 

He decided he should jump in before it could go pear-shaped and James ended up sleeping on the couch. “I’ll go to dinner and see what he thinks I should know.” He shrugged at James’ flabbergasted look. “It can’t hurt. I can’t let them get their hands on the Black Wizengamot seat, can I?”

Chapter 4 – Shifting Paradigms 

July 1979

Sunday came quicker than Sirius liked. He approached the home of Arcturus Black. It had been years since he was here. It still looked and felt imposing despite him having grown since his last visit. It was a lovely-looking estate house. It should not be imposing. Maybe that was because of the man inside. Arcturus Black stood tall in Sirius’ memory and a boogeyman used to try and keep him in line.

“That might have more to do with it,” Sirius muttered and forced his feet to carry him to the door.

“Heir Black,” the elf who opened the door greeted. “This way.”

Sirius followed the elf into the dining room. Two places were set. To his relief, they were not on opposite ends of the long table.  Arcturus entered from another door and stood behind the head chair.

“Thank you for coming.”

Sirius was surprised at the genuineness of the statement.  There was no barbed undertone, no snide twang, or belittling lilt that was common at Black family dinners. “You did bring up some good points. It won’t hurt to gather more information, as Lily pointed out.”

Arcturus gestured to the chair to his left for him. “Lily?” Arcturus sat.  Sirius followed.

“Lily Potter, James’ wife.”

Serving dishes filled with food appeared on the table. They were a welcome sight that meant the dinner would not be drawn out by courses.

“The elves were excited to be cooking for more than me.” Arcturus indicated the eight dishes on the table.

“They did know there was only one more coming to dinner?” Sirius started serving himself food after Arcturus made the first move.

Arcturus chuckled. “They know, but they live in hope of more.” Arcturus placed a roll on his plate. “I have heard good things about Mrs. Potter. Glad to see that she lives up to her reputation with the sound advice she gave you.”

Once more Sirius found himself on the wrong foot by the unexpected. “You have?”

“A friend in the ministry, who had been talking with Professor Fenwick mentioned her.”

“She’s being talked about?” Sirius rubbed his ear. “Not that I’m surprised. She’s smart and quick with her wand. I just never thought about people at the ministry talking about my friends.”

“Everyone is talked about at some point in the ministry. It’s the biggest gossip mill and every family has at least one relatively close member working there.” 

Sirius paused in cutting his chicken breast. He had not thought about it in those terms before. It was true. From the members of the Wizengamot to the clerks, a wide range of their society was covered and families were represented by the hundreds of people who worked and passed through the building daily. Sirius bet that there was not a piece of gossip that did not pass through one hall or another.

“That is why having a network of friends and acquaintances is the first step to not being trampled over and used by others.” Arcturus pointed the prong end of his fork at Sirius. “This starts in Hogwarts. Being sorted Gryffindor starts you off in a different spot.”

Sirius’s grip tightened on his utensils. His irritation flared. “Gryffindor is a great house and I’m proud to be one.”

Arcturus nodded. “You should be. It was a good fit for you.”

Sirius sputtered as the steam powering his rant vanished. “But you said…”

“What did I say… word for word… not what you heard?” Arcturus raised a challenging eyebrow.

Sirius reviewed the words. He slumped back into his chair, a move that would have his mother sending a stinging hex to make him sit up. It took him time, but he saw what Arcturus wanted him to see. He became defensive at the first mention of Gryffindor. He had heard accusations and belittling in the sentence but upon re-examination, the words were neutral as was Arcturus’ delivery.

“Being sorted Gryffindor starts you off in a different spot,” Sirius repeated.

“There is nothing inherently good or bad about Gryffindor. It is a different outlook and requires different methods.”

“Walburga would disagree.”

Arcturus set his silverware down. He looked Sirius in the eyes. “I understand you have been conditioned to expect the worst from family members, but you are giving them a form of control over you and your actions. It is best to minimize such control if you don’t want others to lead you around.” He picked the utensils back up and cut into his meal.

Sirius took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My temper has always been an issue.”

Arcturus chuckled. “You are not the only one. My brother Regulus was the same on a few issues. He was worse when he was your age though.”

Sirius turned slightly toward Arcturus. “Really. What set him off?”

“Usually Pollux.” Arcturus had a soft smile on his face. “He was an ass as a child and out to make his mark. He resented that we were the elder branch of the family so tried to prove he was better by flaunting his accomplishments and name-dropping. He always had the proper opinion to share with you. Regulus would verbally and magically eviscerate him when he pushed too far.”

Sirius snorted. He could see his other grandfather acting that way. It was the way he still acted. “Couldn’t happen to a nicer person.”

Arcturus lifted his goblet in a salute to Sirius. Sirius lifted his goblet in return.

“Regulus was passionate and went after his goals. Classist as they come, but did not go out of his way to prove he was better. He just expected it to be obvious to everyone, and they should know to get out of his way. Another reason he and Pollux did not get along.”

“What did he do? I don’t think I’ve heard stories about him even if they named my brother after him. Surely, they picked the name for more than to… no, never mind.” Sirius waved his hand through the air as if it would erase what he was saying. They would pick the name to gain favor with Arcturus. “But why didn’t they name me that?” 

“I suspect they would have if he had died before you were born. He died weeks after.”

“Instead, I get to be the third to use Sirius. At least, it is a build-in-joke.”

“I’m sure you have gotten miles of use out of it.”

“Drove Walburga nuts, and I reminded her that she chose it each and every time.”

Arcturus chuckled softly at the comment, but Sirius heard it and was warmed by it.

“Uncle Alphard would help set it up if he was around. I miss him. He treated me decently.”

“I do as well. He had a wicked sense of humor hidden under the Black stuffiness. Walburga was always his favorite target.”

“Really?” Sirius sat up eager for stories about his favorite uncle besting Walburga.

Arcturus spent the rest of the meal recounting stories of his childhood and his siblings’ and cousins’ antics. They were all stories that Sirius had never heard. Orion never told stories. Walburga only told stories about the glory of the Black family. 

Arcturus told of misadventures where they ended up calling an elf to rescue them from the treetop and pranks pulled on their cousins. There were bets and challenges as stupid as any Gryffindor would come up with. There were accidentally and purposefully destroyed belongings. 

Sirius was shocked to learn that Walburga had made the family tapestry and Uncle Alphard tampered with it so it could not be changed once a name was on it.

“Are any of the older names right on the tapestry?” Sirius asked. 

Arcturus wobbled his hand in the air. “There are documents in the old family records that support some of it, but not for the entire time period the tapestry covers.”

“Why is some of it missing? Aren’t they magically protected?”  

“Protections against time and mishandling – yes, but not every generation was as thorough at casting or maintaining them. Much was lost when the home of the original tapestry was destroyed by Fiendfyre. No protection could withstand it.

“And then there are the sections of the records that are questionable because of historical revisionism or highly biased accounts.”

“You’re saying our family history is made up?” Sirius leaned back in his chair and looked at Arcturus.

“It’s as accurate as anyone else’s family history.”

Sirius snorted at the non-answer answer. “If it’s not accurate, it shouldn’t matter.”

It was Arcturus’ turn to find amusement in the others’ statement. “It matters because they believe it to be true. They define who they are and derive their worth by their family achievements and power.”

Sirius gestured with a hand. “That’s what always irritates me. Why must the achievements of past family members affect who I am and what I can do? I am my own person! I should be able to stand on my own merit.”

Arcturus was measuring Sirius. He tapped a finger against his lips. “Human nature and society shortcuts.”

“What?”

“When you meet someone new, what is the first thing you do?”

Sirius was confused by the current turn of the conversation. “Introductions. Shake their hand?”

“Yes, but what are you thinking? What are you focusing on?”

“Um, I guess, I would look at them…” Sirius tried to think about the last time he met someone new and was coming up blank.

Arcturus shifted in his chair and waited.

“I would note their hair color and maybe what they were wearing…”

Arcturus pulled out his wand and an illusion of a scruffy-looking man appeared.

“First impressions?” Arcturus barked. 

“Wariness.”

The man was replaced with an illusion of a beautiful blond woman.

“First Impression?”

“Vela.”

Arcturus rapidly moved through a dozen illusions demanding Sirius’ immediate response.

Sirius answered, “Boring, dangerous, fun, stuck-up, friendly, honest, sad…” 

“Why did you answer the way you did?” Arcturus asked. 

“It felt right,” Sirius said.

Arcturus brought up the image of the boy with glasses perched on his nose, a book in hand, and a serious look on his face that Sirius said was stuck-up.  It morphed into the same boy dressed in quidditch gear and a large grin on his face. “Does he still appear to be stuck-up?”

“No.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Facial expression and what he’s wearing.”

Arcturus nodded. He waved his wand making the images vanish. “We make first impression judgments based on appearances and body language. It’s a quick risk assessment to know if the person is safe and how we should react to them. The problem is that what we first see is only a snapshot and not the entirety of who the person is.  

“We do the same when making quick decisions about groups of people because it’s easier than separating them out individually.  Unfortunately, they are often false and prejudiced. We all do this even if we don’t realize it.”

“What does this have to do with relying on past family achievements?”

“The impression of a family is built by those who had the name before. Therefore the greater the number of positive achievements tied to the family name that are remembered by the society at large, the more favorable the current and future family members are accepted by others. It opens doors.”

“That’s not fair to the individual!”

“It’s not fair to a lot of people.”

Sirius was once more taken aback by Arcturus’ admission. 

“You are not going to change everyone’s bias, but you can stop playing the game by identifying your own bias and questioning its validity. Give people the break you want. You can also create a new family reputation that you can be proud of.”

The pieces Arcturus had hinted at and set plainly in front of him fell into place.

“That is why you want me as your heir. You want to change the Black family stereotype.” 

“Yes. I have for a long time, but it’s a numbers game. For once, I think they are in my favor.”

Sirius dragged his hand over his mouth while his mind spun examining things he had always known in a new light. There always seemed to be so many Black at the family gatherings that he felt outnumbered. 

However, his cousins were all females. Their children will not have the Black name and will carry on their father’s family. He and Regulus were the only path for the Black name to continue. With the war going on, there was a chance they might not survive and end the line. A younger Sirius would have been jubilant at the chance to end the Black name. 

A part of nineteen-year-old Sirius was maliciously gleeful at the idea still, but he was weighing if the satisfaction of turning the Black family reputation around would be greater than letting it die. It was an attractive idea.

“What about Regulus?” Regulus would oppose him. Walburga raised him to be her version of the perfect Black.  

“Regulus is my concern.” Arcturus summoned an elf who set a package on the table beside Sirius. “Inside are a few books you should read. I would like your thoughts on them at our next several dinners.”

“If I don’t want to read them?”

“You don’t have to. If you want to change the family image, you will find them beneficial to the task.” Arcturus escorted Sirius to the floo. “I am sure I do not have to point out it would be best for your future to keep knowledge of you being my heir to a very few.”

Sirius nodded. That was knowledge that did not need to be spread around. Bellatrix would probably kill him herself to open the spot for Regulus.

“Longer life expectancy if I keep it to myself.”

Arcturus clapped Sirius on the back. “Have a good evening and take care.”

Sirius disappeared into the floo.           

~~~~

Regulus had been working at InterMyst for several weeks before he had free time to check out the records room. The name was a misnomer. It should have been the records library. It was multiple rooms filled with shelves of books with reading tables scattered throughout. 

The first thing he looked up was how language and writing related to magic. The first time he witnessed an Asian witch cast a spell not in Latin shocked him. However, once he thought about it, he realized he was being short-sighted and egocentric to believe that magic in other language groupings would be based on bastardized Latin. 

Europe and surrounding lands used Latin because that was the language of the Romans who ruled over much of the area. Parts of the world that were not heavily influenced by Rome based their spells on their own language or root language. Once Regulus pulled on the thread of an idea, his preconceived ideas unraveled.

Combine that with Nephthys telling him about the power of the first known written language, he wanted to read through the research the Department of Magical Studies had “published” on the topic.

Publishing for an Unspeakable was not the same as the independent researcher. Their findings were written up like any researcher would do for publishing in a trade journal, but after a review by management, a copy would be put into the research room for other Unspeakables to read. What section depended on restriction levels of the research. If the research was considered world-ending dangerous, only management and those with permission would ever read them. 

The records room was used to keep abreast of what other departments were doing and if their work would aid in another department’s work. Regulus was surprised at how many of the departments had combined teams working together. 

Both the department of Thought and Nephthys’ department of Soul researched the power of identity. Nephthys researched how identity was related to the soul while Thought focused more on what gave one a sense of identity. Both groups kept abreast of the other research because they could spark new lines of research. 

He found the section with the research he was interested in and pulled the most interesting sounding for this visit. He took them to the reading table and dove in.

~~~~

The order members moved from their cramped seating in Dearborn’s front room. Sirius was ready to get out before he needed to renew the personal cooling charm again. Having so many people in a small space was not the most comfortable even with the cooler September days and magic. 

“A moment of your time, please, Sirius.” Dumbledore was standing behind him.

Sirius turned not having seen the man move. “Sure.”

Dumbledore drew him into a hall away from easy view and easy eavesdropping.

“I heard your grandfather has been sighted more frequently in the ministry the past few months.” Albus stared at Sirius expectantly, but he had not asked a question. 

In the past, Sirius would have jumped in offering whatever he knew on the topic, but since the first dinner months ago with Arcturus, Sirius was trying to stop and question even his own beliefs and actions. Of course, Albus would want to keep tabs on what was happening on the political front and who was on which side. That was logical. But how much did Albus need to know? Was Sirius willing to spill personal information entrusted to him or family secrets? Where was the line between helping the war and protecting family?

“Which one? I do have two of them and they are both Black. You know I don’t keep tabs on my family, Albus. The outcast and disgrace that I am and all.”

“Arcturus.”

Sirius rubbed his chin then nodded. “Could be. He does hold the Black family Wizengamot seat. Are they meeting more than normal? James hasn’t said anything about it to me if they are.”

Albus ran a hand down his beard. “No, my dear boy, which does make me curious what he’s doing there.”

Sirius shrugged. “Once again, I don’t keep tabs on them.”

“I heard he paid you a visit a while back. Surely you know something.”

Sirius huffed, brushing it off while wondering who Albus’ source was. Not many knew about the visit. “He did visit, to my surprise.”

“I’m sure,” Albus said. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses. 

One of the Prewett brothers must have told a joke because those around them were laughing. Sirius glanced at them.

“The purpose of his visit?”

“Invite me to dinner.”

Albus nodded sagely at the answer. “I hear he has taken your brother under his wing to train in the management of the estates. Something about sending him out of the country.”

“I’ve heard the same but not beyond that.” Sirius felt like he was being pulled into the steps of a duel – cast, shield, repeat. “Mother sent me a howler to make sure I knew. You remember her howlers?”

Albus flinched at the reminder of the howlers she sent Sirius his first several years at Hogwarts. “I do. Have you taken Arcturus up on his offer?”

“I did.”

Sirius searched the thinning crowd for his friends. “What do you want, Albus? I don’t want to stand in the hall playing word games with you all night. You have other things to do as well.”

Albus straightened and cleared his throat. “I’m trying to discern Arcturus’ motives and plans. He’s not been an active player on the board. If he is becoming one, it is beneficial to know which side he’s on and what piece he is.”

Sirius bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. War was not pretty, but putting it in terms of a chess game, felt impersonal and belittled… dehumanized the sacrifices they were making.

“With him reaching out to you, I hoped you might have a bit of insight into his actions.”

“Nope.”

“What did you talk about at your dinner?”

“Family history, mostly.”

“Will you be seeing him again?”

“He did ask me to come by again.”

“Would you try to find out? It could be of vital importance. If you can convince him to come to our side, that would be wonderful, my boy.” Albus clapped a hand to his shoulder in an over-friendly manner.

“No promises, Albus, but I’ll take him up on his offer.” Sirius shrugged, dislodging the hand.

Albus clapped his hands and smiled cheerily. “Excellent! I look forward to your report.”

He turned and left Sirius standing in the hall not sure how he felt about being asked to spy on his grandfather. He was not sure he liked his grandfather, but he did respect the man he was getting to know. Sirius did not want to do anything that would betray the growing relationship between them.

“Ready to head out?” James asked.

“Yes.”

“What did Albus want?”

“He asked me about Arcturus. He wants me to basically spy on him.” He grabbed James by the arm and dragged him out to join Lily. “We can talk about it later when there aren’t so many people around.”

~~~~

Regulus returned often to the research room. Once he started researching a topic, it would lead him to another. He followed the winding research trail until he was reading about the muggle concept of genetics and how it applied to witches and wizards and why inbreeding caused family lines to die and create squibs. It also pointed out that muggle-borns entering their society were returning descendants of squibs. It cited other papers that delved more into the topic.

He remembered Marcus commenting on the Gaunt family and Regulus’ own crossing family branches. This must have been what he was referring to. Regulus checked the distribution level on the paper he was reading. It was marked with several colored bands and symbols that Regulus had learned to read. This report was accessible to all Unspeakable. It could be talked about as a concept outside of the InterMyst and DoMs, even encouraged, but was restricted information by law in several countries. England was one of them.

Regulus dragged his hand down his face and sighed. Oh, he could clearly see why both sides would not want the information getting out. Pureblood fanatics, like his mother, would not want to be proven wrong or admit that their ideas were detrimental to their world. They would suppress and ignore any research or report or person who said bringing new blood into the family was a good thing. 

Some on the other side would love to see the purebloods lose their magic due to their own beliefs. He was sure they would see it as poetic – another pureblood family dies out because of inbreeding. 

Both sides would hide the research because learning muggle-born had distant ties to the wizarding world would undermine both their crusades and support base. It probably would not make life better for the muggle-born. It would not make the purebloods accept them, and it might lose them their support among the muggle lovers.    

He placed the reports in the return box and exited the records room.

—-

Nephthys joined him for lunch. “What has you so lost in thought?”

“I feel like everything I grew up believing was a lie,” Regulus admitted.

“Serious thought. Might help if you talk through it with an unbiased party.”

“You don’t know if you are unbiased,” he pointed out.

She shrugged. “True, but I’m not a contributing individual to your youth.”

Regulus rubbed his face and slumped in his chair. He pushed his mother’s scolding voice away. Nephthys was level-headed and objective. She would not let her personal feelings affect helping him.

“Start with what first set you on your path of reflection.”

Regulus made sure the privacy runes on the table were activated. “Squibs work here. It took me by surprise. I didn’t understand why they would be allowed to work in a magical research department.”

“Understandable,” Nephthys said. “What did you do with that information?”

“I discreetly inquired about what they did.”

“What did you learn?”

“Most of the newest wizarding inventions are based on muggle technology, the squibs are our spies in the muggle world and our sources of cultural understanding for it, and muggles are more than wizarding society likes to think of them.”

“All true.”

“Muggle-born can often be linked back to a cast-out squib. Pureblood families are going to interbreed their families out of existence. All of it would be considered blasphemy by my parents.” Regulus waved his hands in the air to vent his frustration. “But, I read the reports in the report room. The research supports it. I know it’s valid. I don’t know what to believe or think or do. Time and again, what I think is true is only an illusion and I’m only a pawn to further a doomed cause.” Regulus ran both hands through his hair. “How can I even… how can proper choices be made when they don’t know the facts. We are all wearing blinders. Some are put on us by others and some we put on ourselves. Yet we base our lives on our limited view.”

“It’s a human thing,” Nephthys said. “We cling to things and beliefs that make up our identity. We are afraid contemplating a different idea will destroy who we believe ourselves to be. We may turn out to not be the hero of the story but the villain or worse the nameless character that the hero or villain passes on the street without notice.”

Regulus dropped his head to the table and onto his folded arms. Nephthys chuckled.

“The dramatics of youth,” she said.

“My life is crumbling around me and you laugh,” Regulus said into his arms. 

“It is part of life. It happens to all of us and sometimes more than once. See it as an opportunity to rebuild yourself as you want to be and not as others want you to be.”

Regulus rolled his head and shifted so he could look at her. “How do I do that?”

“Answer for yourself, what do you want to stand for? What truths do you hold close after everything is stripped away? What gives you strength to stand?”

He gave her a questioning look.

“Family, loyalty, truth, justice, retribution, success, power, knowledge, adventure. What do you value and can build your life on.”

“I don’t know.”

She patted his head. “That is why you should think on it. Find out who is Regulus Black and what makes him tick.”

 Regulus sat up properly.

“I’m not a clock,” he hissed.

“Muggle expression. What motivates you to do what you do.”

Regulus did not know. Who was he with his parents’ beliefs of blood purity and being better than others stripped away? This was the second time in three months that his world was shaken. The first got him to InterMyst. He was glad of that. Sure the threat of Tom was out there, but this place offered him hope and support. Maybe the second paradigm shift would be beneficial as well. 

“How do you know muggle expressions?”

“My father’s a muggle.” She took a sip of her tea.

Regulus blinked at her several times as that information percolated through his mind.

“My mother is from a pure-blood family. They wanted her to marry and have pure-blood children. She wanted to experience life and have a career.”

Regulus rein in his shock at the information. “Did she get cast out?”

“Definitely. Both sides were happier afterward. Mother went to work for Gringotts and became a curse breaker. She found adventure and met my dad working in Egypt. She has never looked back.”

“But… what about the family… I mean…” Regulus shook his head. It was like trying to understand Sirius abandoning them. “What about family responsibility?”

“She saw it as a cage trapping her from experiencing life.” Nephthys patted Regulus’ hand. “Family responsibilities should be balanced with the individuals. What does family responsibility boil down to?”

That was a good question. Various ideas filled his mind, but condensing them down to one central truth or guiding point was evading him. 

“At the root, its purpose is to continue the family by having children. She did that, just not with who they wanted her to. She has five magical children. That’s more than her brother produced.” She waved a dismissive hand.

He sat stunned once more as a new view opened before him. What did he think family responsibility was? He had been taught he was better than everyone else because of his blood, to lord it over others, to not bring ‘shame’ upon the name, make a good marriage, continue the family line, and teach and provide for the future generations.

He had learned the first three were not as important as his mother taught him. The rest was what every family needed to do to carry their name on as Nephthys pointed out. 

“Did her leaving break an alliance her father wanted?” Regulus asked. He knew that marriage was still often used to cement agreements.

Nephthys smirked. “She threw it on the ground and stomped all over it. He wanted her to marry a wizard four times her age. She would have been wife number five.”

Regulus did not need the rest spelled out for him. He had heard similar stories at school. He suspected the previous four wives were no longer living.

“Her wishes were not taken into consideration. To this day, we don’t know if her father agreed because of money or because of blackmail. However, she managed to ruin her prospective husband’s life by informing a few people of his underhanded dealings with them.”

“They did not take it well, I assume.”

A feral grin was his answer. “The poor man passed within the year in his prison cell.”

Regulus fingered his robe clasp and nodded his head. “Did you grow up in a magical or muggle home?” His curiosity pushed forward.

“Muggle neighborhood, but home was filled with both magical and muggle items. Went to Muggle school until eleven, then I split my time between the two.”

“Why?”

“There are benefits of a muggle education for a magical. They teach the basics of Arithmancy from an early age. They call it by a different name and don’t teach magical relevance, obviously.”

Regulus nodded.

“But it gave me a head start when I took the class. Learning about the scientific method and how to debate are obvious plusses in my chosen job. Magical schools don’t teach you critical thinking skills.”

“How did you go to both?”

“I was a precocious kid. I took several correspondence courses and did in-person classes in the summers. Not something everyone can do or wants to do.”

“What was it like for you when you entered the wizarding world?” Regulus was surprised at how interested he was in her answer.

“It was not a lot different from the muggle one. Some bullies targeted me for one reason or another – gender or race or blood. I’m of mixed race in both worlds.”

That was not something he considered.

“I didn’t put up with it then, and I don’t put up with it now. I’m grown and demand respect for my research and skills. If they do say something, I’ll hex their bits.”

Regulus shifted and crossed his legs.

She contemplated Regulus. “I should take you into the muggle world at least once. It’s better with a guide.”

“I don’t know about that.” That was a big step.

“Broadening your horizons and gaining new experiences are good for you. Trust me.”

Regulus’ stomach dropped. He knew there would be no way out of the trip.     

Chapter 5 – Connections

September 1979 

After close to three months of Sunday dinners with Arcturus, Sirius made his own way to the dining room once the elf let him in. Arcturus met him in the hall, having come from his office. Sirius accepted the offered hand to shake in greeting.

“Evening, Sirius. How was your week?”

They took what had become their seats at the table.

“Fine,” Sirius answered. The food appeared before him. “I finally got the flying charms and the cloaking runes to work together on my motorcycle.”

“Was the book I pointed you to helpful for that?”

“Yes, it was.” Sirius took another bite of his meal then pointed his fork at Arcturus. “I hear you have been stirring things up.” 

“In what way?”

“You are out and about in the ministry. Probably for political maneuvering or at worst supporting the dark twat.”

Arcturus cocked his head and studied Sirius. “Who did you hear that from?”

“Many have inquired about you but don’t push when I remind them of my estrangement from my family. However, Dumbledore knows of your visit and wants me to spy on you and bring you to his side if I can.”

Arcturus snorted and shook his head. “I wouldn’t put myself under his direction if he was Merlin reincarnated.”

Sirius was surprised when the expected indignation at the statement was absent. Since the incident with Snape and Moony, Sirius had put Dumbledore on a pedestal and flocked to his banner when called. 

To teen him, Dumbledore stood for the light, for the right, for the muggle-born, for what his family was against. He helped Sirius and his friends. He let Remus attend Hogwarts when others would have turned him away. He was one adult that Sirius looked up to for seven years of his life and who supported him in getting away from his family.

Arcturus, through their talks, had been showing Sirius to look at a topic, break it down, examine everything, then form a conclusion – did not matter if it was the same or different from the one he started with. The important thing was that Sirius ended with well-thought-out arguments and supporting facts. That mentality had crept into more of his life than just their talks.

Sirius knew that was the reason he had been impatient with Dumbledore’s dancing around during their conversation the other night. All Dumbledore gave him were surface reasons or platitudes in place of a good reason. It felt a bit like he was being handled or maneuvered – like the pieces on Dumbledore’s board. 

“Why?” Sirius knew Arcturus was not a Dumbledore fan from their first conversation, but now, he wanted to know his reasoning. Sirius suspected that he would not agree with it, but he wanted to know and understand it as part of their renewed relationship.

Arcturus picked up his goblet. He sat back in his chair and took a sip. Sirius now recognized it as one of Arcturus’ delaying tactics to ponder his words. 

“History,” Arcturus answered. He lifted a finger to keep Sirius from jumping in with more questions. “Albus Dumbledore is twenty years older than I am, so I don’t have first-hand knowledge of his teen years. I do know those who do and the stories they told.”

Sirius found himself leaning forward and ignoring his dinner. He was curious if he had ever heard this old gossip.

“Like all of us, Albus had his youthful indiscretions and miss-steps. He also has skeletons in his family’s closet. It’s some of those miss-steps that lead me to question his current actions.”

The current course vanished and the next one took its place. Arcturus took a bite.

“Like?” Sirius prompted.

Arcturus motioned to Sirius’ plate. Sirius reluctantly utilized his manners and sampled the dish.

“Even when I was a child, whispers of what his father did would creep up from time to time. It wasn’t something I paid close attention to, but I did go digging into it as an adult.”

“Did he wear plaid with polka dots?”

“No, his father went to Azkaban for attacking Muggles.”

Sirius froze. His mouth dropped open. “But he’s pro-muggle?” Sirius pondered the situation and how he would react in such a situation. He could see that galvanizing the person to one extreme or the other. “How old was Albus?”

“Pre-Hogwarts.  It brought a lot of attention to the family. His actions were judged criminal, and he offered no reason in court. 

“The family moved to Godric’s Hollow after the father’s incarceration. Those who knew the family there, always comment on how the family kept to themselves. That was what the public knew.”

Sirius punctuated his words with a jab of his fork in the air. “But you know more.”

Arcturus gave a nod. “This is Black privileged information and will not go beyond us until it is deemed needed.”

Sirius swallowed hard. Privileged information was critical or dangerous information that was only known by the father and heir of a family. 

“I can understand his motive for attacking them once I learned the reason behind his actions.” Arcturus raised his finger once more. “It took me a lot of digging to learn and verify this. The muggle boys attacked and traumatized his daughter. She was never the same afterward. When they moved, she was not seen by many in Goderich Hollows. Percival was an angry father avenging his daughter – in an inappropriate and unlawful way.”

Sirius tried to take that in. Yes, he could understand wanting to get back at those who had wronged you and yours. “Is that all your reasons?”

“No. Later on Albus became friends with their neighbor Bathilda Bagshot’s nephew.” Arcturus took a slow sip of his wine.

Sirius dropped his silverware onto the table and glared at Arcturus. He could sense that the next bit of information was important, and Arcturus was dragging it out. 

“Who was her nephew?” Sirius growled.

“Gellert Grindelwald.”

“No!” Sirius gasped. He fell back into his chair. “Really? How?”

“According to Ms. Bagshot, Gellert came to live with her after he was expelled from Durmstrang. The two of them were thick as thieves that summer with all sorts of plans to make the world better.” Arcturus raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Sirius’ mind was spinning, and for once, he cursed at the lack of a good history education at Hogwarts. There were too many holes in his knowledge to get a true picture. Arcturus wanted him to come to a conclusion from the information. He started with what he knew about Grindelwald. Not much other than Albus defeated him.  

How could Albus be friends with such an evil man? 

“She hinted that there was more than friendship between them.”

Sirius’s head shot up, and he gapped at Arcturus. “They were lovers?”

“That was the implication I got, but I have no supporting evidence.”

“They were romantically involved,” Sirius muttered. He would never think of Albus the same. How could he look at Albus and not give away this revelation? Sirius covered his face with his hands and groaned. “I can never talk to him again.”

“Just don’t look him in the eye.” Arcturus finished his meal. “Make sure your mental defenses are up.

Sirius dropped his hands. “What?” His mind was grabbing for pieces once more. “You’re saying he’d use Legilimency on me.”

“At the drop of a hat if he believed it aided his cause. He wasn’t so good at it years ago.”

Sirius held a deep breath and slowly let it out. Surely, Albus would not do such a thing to his friends… but he had been friends with Gellert Grindelwald. But that was when he was around Sirius’ age. Lily always told them that he and James were making bad decisions because they had not learned to look before leaping – a lesson she hoped they would learn as they got older. The chessboard analogy returned. If they all were only pieces on a board…, yes, he would do that. But, that was something he would expect from his relatives and not the leader of the light.

“That is one of the reasons I will not be one of his followers,” Arcturus continued. “He is so sure of his own rightness in any situation and his path is the only one. What better way to spread that belief than to be over the education of the youth of our nation.”

“Stop.” Sirius held up a hand. He shook his head. His hero’s clay feet were showing. “That’s a lot to digest.”

Arcturus inclined his head to Sirius.

Sirius ran both hands through his hair. “I’m not disagreeing with any of it at this time. Some of it makes sense, but the full ramifications…”

“Understandable. Here are a few more points to add for consideration. What did Albus and Gellert plan together? What did they agree on? What drove them apart? What is Albus’ goal then and now? What is his view on the world?”

Sirius nodded, already rolling the questions around.

“Any suggested reading materials this time?”

“I found the newspaper archives of interest when I looked into the topic.”

Sirius felt a headache starting. “Can I talk to James and Lily about this?”

Arcturus shrugged. “Up to you. Do you think they would be objective about Dumbledore?”

“Maybe…”

James had been helpful talking through some of the other topics Arcturus had brought up for discussion. Lily always had a unique viewpoint to add having grown up in the muggle world. On the topic of Dumbledore, Lily would be the one to talk to out of the two of them. James would be a hard stone to bulge from his current perception of the Headmaster without proof. Lily was the more open-minded of the two.

Dinner continued and their conversation turned to current wizarding news but avoided talking about Voldemort and his followers.

~~~~

Lily opened the door at Sirius’ knock. He pushed his hair out of his face. “James in?”

“He’s out running errands. Don’t know how long he’ll be. Come in and wait.” 

Sirius followed Lily into the Potter home. She headed to the room she claimed for her projects. 

“Keep me company while I paint,” she said.

“Sure.” Sirius plopped onto the loveseat she kept in the room.

Lily picked up her paints and stood at her easel. She layered paint on the canvas. Sirius watched while his thoughts were on last night’s conversation with Arcturus.  

“What topic did your grandfather bring up that has you tied up in knots this time?” Lily was focused on her painting and not looking at Sirius.

Sirius sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. He shifted in his seat. “Albus.”

She looked at him now, briefly. “What did he say about Albus that’s got you looking so conflicted?”

“He challenged me to consider Albus’ motives based on what he does and supported through his life and not just what I saw in school.”

Lily nodded and hummed. “Reasonable.”

Sirius huffed. “To you, yes. You were not raised to see him as the hero of the last war.”

“So you are having issues humanizing him and seeing him as a fallible man instead of a great infallible giant who is the next Merlin.”

“Yes,” he groaned.

“You wanted to talk to James, who holds the man on the same pedestal, about this?” She gave him a piercing look.

“Not really. I know James won’t believe what Arcturus told me without proof, especially when the source is a Black. Yet, I need to talk it out with someone. Everything is buzzing around in my head. I can’t make it all behave and see where it leads.” He threw his hands into the air. 

“Lay it out for me,” Lily said. “What are his facts and sources?”

“He’s only twenty years younger than Albus. He was alive and remembers a lot of Albus’ early life and the gossip that lingered around the Dumbledore family for decades.”

“Some of those gossip mongers never forget anything, I’ve noticed.” Lily jabbed her brush against the canvas. “Go on!”

“Arcturus said that Albus’ father was jailed for attacking muggles.”

Lily snapped her attention to him. “Isn’t Dumbledore a half-blood? That means at least one of his parents was from the muggle side of things.”

“His mother. According to Arcturus, Percival Dumbledore never gave a reason for his actions. The real kicker is that Albus was close friends with Grindelwald. Grindelwald’s aunt implied it might have been more.”

“Oh!” Lily gasped then giggled. “Lousy choice, but it’s funny to think of your professors as having relationships – romantic or friendships. They are such a big part of our teenage life, but that is the only way you see them.”

Sirius shrugged, indifferent to the lives of his other professors.

“Continue!”

He told her what they had talked about and the questions Arcturus left him with. She had cleaned her brushes and put them away by the time he was done. She curled up into the other end of the loveseat with chin resting on her knees as she listened. She sat there in a quiet contemplation for several minutes once he was done.

“Wasn’t Grindelwald’s motto for the greater good?” Lily asked.

“Maybe,” Sirius said. It sounded familiar, but he was not sure.

“I know I read it somewhere.” She waved a hand dismissively in the air. “I’ll find it later. But now that you highlighted the connection… who else do we know that uses that phrase?”

 Slowly the answer came to Sirius. “Albus Dumbledore.”

“The question is what does he mean by it? Does he use it the same way as Grindelwald or different? Is there a difference? Is it just a justification to do something that would normally be questionable?”

Sirius thumped his head against the wall behind the loveseat. “It’s questions like that that are driving me batty. I want to shove it all down into a box and lock it away.”

“Why aren’t you doing that? It’s closer to your usual MO.”

Sirius rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Because of Arcturus, the dirty snake. He keeps challenging me to question things. He’s dared me to find the truth on my own and prove him wrong.”

“You can’t resist the dare,” Lily said.

“No.” Sirius rolled his head so he could look at Lily. “I’m screwed. He knows how to get me to do what he wants. I’m doomed!”

Lily chuckled and shook her head. “I think it’s all been very reasonable from what you’ve told us.”

Sirius jabbed his finger in her direction. “That’s how it starts. It all sounds reasonable and before you know it you are agreeing to sit on the Wizengamot and deal with adult things you never thought you would have to because you left that behind long ago.”

“Do you want it going to a supporter of You-Know-Who?”   

“That’s why I’m in this mess, Lils.”

She poked him with her foot. “Welcome to being an adult. I’ll help you look into Dumbledore if you want.”

“That would be great.”

~~~~~

“Walk through the doorway,” Joseph ordered.

Regulus walked through the doorway with the dark-mark detection arrays. Joseph grinned as he looked at the parchment.

“Nephthys, your turn.”

Nephthys walked through. Joseph was pleased with the results.

“The control test subject passed through with no name added to the list. The targeted test subject’s name appeared on the list. It would be nice to have a larger sample size. Two isn’t enough to base effectiveness on.”

Regulus studied the freestanding doorway. It reminded him of something… it reminded him of the doorways into the Ministry for Magic.

“Does the testing have to be done in the Mysteries or can it be used in a public building?” Regulus asked.

Joseph looked like his birthday had come early. “A field test. Wonderful idea. It would have to be someplace where the marked would be. You have a suggestion.”

“The British Ministry for Magic. If you could put it on the entrances into the building, you would catch a good portion of the population given enough time.”

“Yes. But proving that the people named do have the mark is an issue.”

“I can corroborate some names. Would that be enough?”

Joseph thought then nodded. “It would be for a start. Once we try there, we can place them in other public locations like the shopping districts. It doesn’t have to be a doorway. It could be the corner of two buildings. They just have to pass between the two arrays.”

“Quizzel can get it arranged for you,” Nephthys said.

~~~~

Here,” Lily said, holding up a newspaper for Sirius to see the headline. 

“ALBUS DUMBLEDORE DEFEATED GRINDELWALD”

Sirius took it from her to read the article. Lily shifted to read it with him. She made notes on her muggle notebook.

“What else are we looking for? What dates?” Lily asked.

Sirius consulted his own notes based on information from Arcturus. “The trial of Percival Dumbledore sometime before 1892.” He showed her his list of events and dates.

Lily cast the indexing spell again. Several newspapers lit up for them to collect.

“You don’t have to help me,” Sirius said. “James…”

“James thinks the sun shines out the man’s arse.” Lily brought two papers back to the table they were working at. Sirius sat down with the others. “He’s a talented and gifted wizard. But he’s old. The older a person is, the more they can be set in their ways of thinking and view of the world. They resist change because ‘they know better.’” 

Sirius chuckled. “A story there?”

“My sociology teacher has us reading about generations’ exchange of power.  As each generation comes into their own, they want to make their mark on the world and rebuff the ideas of the previous generations. The older generations are comfortable and hold power that they don’t want to give up or change their ways or invalidate what they see as their life’s work – their legacy.”

Sirius nodded knowing she was taking muggle university classes. “And nothing changes.”

“Not true in the muggle world,” Lily told him about the baby boom after World War II and how that generation was making their mark on the world because of their numbers. Lily continued to copy the articles of interest while they talked. 

At the end of their time in the newspaper archives, Lily had copied a stack of articles dealing with the Dumbledore family and Albus’ documented achievements.

~~~~

The wall of Lily’s project room was covered in parchments connected by strings.

“What’s this?” Sirius asked.

“A way to make connections. I’ve put up facts and events and made connections where I could.”

Sirius read several of the parchments. He tapped one. “This is a voting record. Where did you get it?”

“Ministry archives. Wizengamot voting records are public records.” Lily waved her wand and several of the parchments lit up. “These are all laws dealing with creature rights. You want to know what they all have in common?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Research into what Albus Dumbledore stands for.” She tapped the wall. “Well?”

Sirius looked at the cobweb on the wall and shook his head. “They are trying to take rights away?”

Lily shook her head. 

“What do they have in common?” he asked.

“The ones for creature rights pass 10% of the time and the ones with creature restrictions pass 15% of the time despite those who follow Albus or the light side outnumbering those who oppose.”

“Sabotage? Tampering with the vote?”

Lily shook her head. She waved her wand and the wall changed to lists of names and numbers. “Parts of his voting block didn’t show up.”

“Someone blackmailing them?”

“Could be. It’s not always the same people missing though. If I found the pattern, surely Albus has. He hasn’t done anything about it.” Lily shook her head. “No matter how I look at it, it doesn’t paint him in a good light. This isn’t the only topic to have such irregularities.”

Sirius contemplated the situation and began to see what Lily was pointing out. Albus has always vocally championed creature rights. He voted for them when they came up, but there was an unmoving tug-a-war with neither side gaining much ground. Albus was either incompetent, saw the issue but was ineffective at countering it, or it was what he wanted to happen.

“It’s happening too frequently to not be someone interfering in some way,” Sirius said.

Lily folded her arms and glared at her wall of data. “Exactly. Who is the question followed by why.” She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know enough about the inner workings to pinpoint it. But it seems to be treading some sort of balancing act. Never too far one way or the other of the political lines depending on topic and year.”

 Sirius stroked his chin and looked at the wall. “Can this be transferred or copied so I can show Arcturus? Maybe he would see something we don’t.”

“Oh, would you!” Lily’s eyes lit up. She hopped up and lunged toward him to give him a hug. “Yes, please!”

~~~~

Regulus entered Joseph’s lab and was pleased to see Grandfather Arcturus there. 

“Grandfather,” he greeted and inclined his head to the older man. “I hope you are well.”

Arcturus surprised him by greeting him with a brief hug. “I am well.” He stepped back and examined Regulus. “You look much better than when I last saw you.”

“Five months away from England has been good for me,” Regulus admitted. “What news do you have from England?” Regulus locked his knees so he would not telegraph any of the anxiety he was feeling.

“Those I suspect of following him are proposing very slanted legislation. Support is divided.  More disappearances. There was an attack by his masked followers in Diagon Alley mid-day last week.”

“How many were injured or killed?” Regulus asked.

“Luckily no deaths, but ten injured. That’s enough to get people talking and stir up fear, which I believe is his goal. And, Epaphroditus Nott died under questionable circumstances. Your father has reached out to me, concerned about the shift.” 

“Typical. Ignore it until it looks like it will affect him personally,” Regulus muttered.

Arcturus guided him to an empty work table, and they sat down.

“That is true of most people.” Arcturus rested a hand on Regulus’ arm then gave it a pat. “It is hard to be concerned with a bigger picture when the things close to you are easier to see.”

Regulus huffed and shook his head. He was still angry at his parents for him being in the situation he was in. He knew it was not all their fault. He was responsible for the choices he made on limited and biased information. Nephthys assured him it was the folly of all youth. It was whether you learned from it that classified you as an adult. He was trying to learn from his errors.

“Is Nott’s son suspected?”

“Suspected but proven to not be behind it.”

“Theophilus is one of Tom’s early followers. If Epaphroditus was standing in Tom’s way, he would have him removed in favor of Theophilus.” Regulus ran a hand down his chin. Epaphroditus was not pro-muggle, but he had taken a hands-off approach to Tom’s crusade, much like his parents. “Are they afraid he will come after them?”

Arcturus hesitated. “I think they are beginning to see his instability. Bellatrix has been telling her parents things that have them worried.”

Regulus would not put it past Bellatrix to do something to his parents either on her own or on Tom’s order if she thought it would further their goals. He did not want his parents killed. He cared for them despite the ire he felt for them.

Regulus tapped his finger on the tabletop. They could be in danger. Would Tom use them against him if he learned of his betrayal or just kill them? “Is he worried enough to leave the country? Maybe travel or visit Aunt Lucretia.”

“Walburga despises my daughter,” Arcturus said.

“I’m beginning to think she despises everyone, even herself.”

Arcturus snorted. “You may be correct. Between the two of us, we could probably convince them to take a long holiday in one of the Black properties.”

“Mother always lusted over the one on Crete.”

Their plotting was interrupted by Joseph and Nephthys entering the lab.

“Let’s get that mark on your arm modified to keep you from harm,” Joseph announced. “Arcturus, if you would get things started.”   

~~~~

James bounded up to Sirius as soon as he exited the floo. He grabbed Sirius’ shoulders and gave him a small shake. “I’m going to be a father!”

Sirius blinked trying to process the rush of words that just left his best friend’s mouth.

“Lily’s pregnant. I’m going to have a kid. I’m going to have a kid…” Realization of what that meant seeped into his last statement. “I don’t know how to take care of a kid.”

Sirius placed his hands on James’ shoulders to anchor him. “You’ve got time. I’m sure you can practice with some of the old crowds’ kids. You will not be short on advice whether you want it or not.” 

“You have not quite eight months before arrival,” Lily said, standing in the doorway. “Come on in, Sirius. Don’t let James’ ill manners keep you in the entry.”  She turned and disappeared into the home.

Sirius clapped James on the shoulder before resting his arm over his shoulders. He steered James into the home. “I’m the godfather, obviously.”

James sputtered, pulling himself from his previous revelations. “We haven’t talked about it, but you’re my choice. Oh, don’t say anything yet. We want to keep it under wraps for a while. Lily doesn’t want all the fawning over her. You’ve seen how they treat Molly.”

Sirius nodded. “She would hate that.”

“Not to mention all the advice everyone would be giving me,” Lily grumbled. “I prefer they keep their noses out of my business.”

Sirius plopped down onto the couch. “Fat chance of that happening. The world runs on rumors and busybodies.” He rested his feet on the coffee table and received a mild stinging hex from Lily. He dropped his feet to the ground.

James kissed the top of Lily’s head before sitting down beside Sirius. 

“What are you two planning to do today?” Lily asked.

“Albus has a task for us,” James admitted. “I wanted to do a bit of planning on that before we do it.”

Lily nodded. Sirius could see the fear she tried to hide when they went out on a task for the Order. There had been an increase in attacks from Voldemort’s side. The Order was scrambling trying to keep creature groups from joining him. It was not very successful. That was disheartening. Combine that with Lily’s research, the opposing force felt like it was winning.

They talked about names for the baby and what they planned for the nursery. James wanted to cover the walls with a Quidditch game with the players flying around the room. Lily put her foot down squashing that idea before it got off the ground.

“Overstimulation like that is not good for the baby,” she said. 

Sirius threw out wilder and wilder themes for the nursery. They were all nixed by Lily, but he did get them both to laugh at some of them. That was a win in his book.

“We should go to my office and make our plans,” James said. He stood and headed out of the room.

Sirius stopped by Lily’s seat before following. “Congratulations. Let me know if you need anything.”

She smiled up at him. “Thanks, Sirius. Maybe later on in the pregnancy. I’ll let you know.” He started to turn when she grabbed his arm. “Thanks for taking my research to your grandfather. His insight has been interesting.”

“He mentioned you two were corresponding on the topic,” Sirius said. “He has good things to say about your research and analysis abilities.”

“Sirius?” James called.

“Coming. I just stopped to flirt with your wife.” He flashed her a smile and squeezed her hand before heading to James’ office.

~~~~~

Sirius followed the Potters home after the Order meeting.  James handed him a tumbler of firewhisky. Lily held a glass of juice. James held his tumble aloft. “To Benjy Fenwick, may his soul rest in peace.”

They lifted their glasses then drank to their fallen companion. He wasn’t the first person they knew to die because of the war, but he was the first Order member in a while to be killed. Some whispered about the Order members becoming Death Eater targets.

They wearily sat down after the toast.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” Lily rested a protective hand on her stomach. She looked contemplatively across the room. “Sometimes I wonder if the muggle-born who left England early on were the smart ones.”

James took Lily’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Oh, Lils, that doesn’t guarantee safety. Where would he focus if he took over England? Going away is no guarantee of safety, even for our baby.”

“I know. I just worry…”

“So do I. That’s why it’s important we do all we can to stop him.”

“Are we really doing all we can?” Lily asked. “What the Order does feels more like trying to use a band-aid on a gash.” She looked between them and realized they did not get the reference. “Aguamenti Charm on Fiendfyre.”

James rubbed her back. He tried to placate her with calming words that were not having the desired effect. Sirius did not blame her. He felt the same way. The more he dug into things, the bigger the picture he understood. Their actions, while they might save a person here or there, were having no effect on the bottom line of the war.    

“He’s not taking out just blood traders anymore,” Sirius said. “Epaphroditus Nott died a couple weeks ago under odd circumstances. He’s a dark wizard, but he was not a known supporter. Everyone knows his son is a follower.” Sirius shrugged hoping they would follow his logic. 

“You think he took out Epaphroditus to put his son in power over the estate?” James asked.

“That’s the prevailing theory. Can’t prove it because the Aurors can’t figure out how he was killed.” 

Lily set her glass down. “Wait and see if it happens again. Not proof, but….” She shrugged. “Sirius, did you know your parents left England?”

Sirius sat up. “What? How do you know that?”

“Beth was telling me they left for a vacation out of the country for an indefinite amount of time. She overheard your cousin Narcissa and Madam Farnsworth talking about it. Madam Farnsworth was curious why she could not get in touch with your mother.”

“I know nothing about it, obviously. You know I don’t talk to them, and Arcturus didn’t say anything about it.” Sirius shrugged. “Not like I care.”

James lifted his glass toward Sirius. “Hear, hear.”

“I’m more curious as to why. It’s not something they have done in the past, is it?” Lily asked.

“We traveled occasionally when I was a kid, but not often or for longer than a weekend.”

“I wonder what would make them run?” Lily asked.

“Maybe they are visiting whatever Black property Regulus is training at,” James said. “Christmas is in a month. Not everything has hidden clues or an agenda.”

Sirius nodded his head. “That does seem more logical. “I’m sure Walburga misses her precious son who’s been away from her for months.”

~~~~

Sirius thrust the envelope to the Potters as soon as he entered their home. Lily took it from him and examined it. 

“What is it?” James asked. He leaned closer to Lily.

“Invitation to Christmas dinner with Arcturus.” Sirius scuffed his foot on the floor.

“Wonderful!” Lily said.

James looked like she just said mandrake roots have lovely singing voices. Lily pulled out the invitation. 

“Who else will be there?” Lily asked.

“If you come, just the four of us,” Sirius said. “You don’t have to.” Sirius shrugged. “I’m going to go because…” Sirius could not verbalize why he was going to go. It was not something he was ready to admit to himself.

James and Lily exchanged communication with looks.  James ruffled his hair and signed.  Lily won the argument.

“From your time with him, it sounds like he is trying to reach out and isn’t as big of a jerk as the rest of your family. Uff…” Lily elbowed James. “One dinner with him would be fine.”

“I’ll reply that we’re coming,” Lily said. She turned and walked out of the room.

Sirius snickered once it was safe. James punched his arm.

“Thanks a lot,” James muttered.

“I have dinner with him once a week and survive.”

~~~~

Arcturus personally welcomed James and Lily into his home when they showed up for Christmas dinner. Sirius was amused by James’ reaction to Arcturus kissing the back of Lily’s hand and complimenting her on her lovely robes.

“Thank you, Mr. Black,” Lily said.

“Arcturus, please.”

“Lily.”

Arcturus was smooth in his handling of Sirius’ friends. He had honed that skill well. Maybe he has always been that way. Sirius did not know. On top of it, he came off as sincere.

“Mr. Potter, welcome to my home.” He shook James’ hand.

“Thank you for inviting us.” James’ delivery was stiff but acceptable.

“You are Sirius’ family. I believe it is a good opportunity to get to know one another.”

James softened with Arcturus’ acceptance of his place in Sirius’ life. 

They were led to the dining room. The table was decorated for the holiday, but not extravagantly so. James pulled Lily’s seat out for her. Once she was seated, the men took their places. The awkward vibe was back as their first course was delivered.

Lily broke it. “These are adorable.”

On each of their plates were three tart-looking items. Sirius poked one with his fork.

“They are filo tarts with caramelized onions and goat cheese,” Arcturus said. “Cottontail wanted to try something different this year since we have guests.”

Lily cut one in half and ate it. She hummed appreciatively. “Lovely.”

Sirius picked one up and popped it into his mouth. It was surprisingly good. The sweetness of the onions and the sharpness of the cheese went well together. 

Lily shot him a scolding look. 

“It’s an hors d’oeuvre. They’re finger food,” Sirius protested.

James followed Sirius’ example. Lily huffed at them. Arcturus chuckled.

“He is correct,” Arcturus said. 

“It just seems uncouth when they’re part of dinner,” Lily said.

“How was your Christmas day?” Arcturus asked, moving the conversation on.

They chatted about their childhood holiday traditions as the celeriac, camembert, and truffle soup was served.

“We would always get a set of new pajamas on Christmas Eve to sleep in,” Lily said. “I think it was Mother’s way of keeping us from being in pictures in ratty-looking pajamas.”

Lily had to explain that pictures were taken as the gifts were opened and in their nightclothes. 

The topics of politics and government policies crept up during the appetizer and salad courses. Sirius and James exchanged befuddled looks as Arcturus and Lily pleasantly debated on the topics.   

By the time the main course of ham and roasted vegetables was served, Arcturus had pulled Sirius and James into the debates. Lily was enjoying herself, often playing devil’s advocate just to tweak James’ nose. 

With the figgy pudding, the conversation turned to quidditch and various teams’ chances for the upcoming year.

Sirius sipped his tea. He had a full belly. He was enjoying the conversation and the company. This was what he always wanted family dinners to be like growing up. He felt warm watching his grandfather, best friend, and best friend’s wife talking and laughing around the table.

Accepting Arcturus’ invitation was worth it. 

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