Chapter Text
“Alright, give it another go,” said Remus, holding out the black Auror jacket to his brother-in-law.
Regulus frowned, but took the jacket in his right hand. He slipped the left sleeve on, and then, with a struggle, wrapped it around him until he could slip his right arm into the other sleeve.
“Ugh, it feels wrong?”
Remus spun his finger. With a sigh, Regulus turned around.
“You’ve twisted it,” Remus said, helping Regulus get the jacket back off.
Once free, Regulus collapsed onto the couch and glared at his missing left forearm. “Having one hand is harder than I thought it would be. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to dress myself again.”
“You just need time,” said Remus, sitting down next to him and laying a supportive hand on his shoulder.
“What I need is a break,” his brother-in-law responded.
Two weeks ago, Regulus had finally undergone amputation surgery on his left arm. The healers had cut right above his elbow, and successfully ended the unbearable pain he’d endured for the past few months. But although magic had allowed the scars to heal quickly, he was still adapting to the changes that losing half a limb entailed.
“Fair enough,” said Remus, rising. “It’s nearly tea time anyways. I’ll be back.”
As Remus left the drawing room, Regulus looked around. Pollux sat regally in an armchair, close to the piano where Kitty and Sirius were practicing. His old eyes were busy scanning the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow.
Just a month ago, Sirius and Regulus had helped their grandfather move back into Grimmauld Place, permanently. His many years in this world were beginning to catch up to him, according to the healers. Although it had taken some convincing, Pollux had swallowed his pride and accepted his grandsons’ invitation to spend the rest of his days at the family home.
Regulus turned his attention to the middle of the room. His wife and nephew were sitting at the coffee table, the bag of Harry’s Triwizard Tournament winnings in front of them as they discussed what Harry should do with it.
“I know I could put it in the vault,” said Harry, “But I think the twins could really use it. It’ll help them fulfill their dream.”
Ruth nodded. “You know, I think it’s a good idea. Starting a business is really hard, especially without financing. The Diagon Alley Daycare took two years to get on its feet, and that was with Narcissa and Augusta’s funding.”
Harry beamed, glad to have his aunt’s approval.
“But…” said Ruth, thoughtfully. “They’re still Weasleys, and no Weasley is going to accept money like that, even from someone they consider family.”
“Oh… right…” Harry’s shoulders fell in disappointment.
Ruth patted him on the back. “Don’t worry! We’ll just have to find a way to convince them!”
Regulus smiled at his wife’s attempt to reassure their nephew, as a melodic sound pulled his attention to the corner of the room, where Kitty was sitting with Sirius at the piano.
Sirius finished his piece and gestured to Kitty, who, with her brow furrowed and a frown on her face, attempted to replicate her uncle’s song. Regulus winced as she hit a few notes too hard.
“Whoa, love,” said Sirius.
The music stopped.
“A little less force,” said Sirius. “Remember, the piano requires a gentle touch.”
“UGH!” cried Kitty, pressing down multiple keys at once. The notes played in a disharmony that startled the other occupants in the room.
“Kitty?” said Regulus, as Kitty pushed herself out of her seat and stormed past him. “KITTY!”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” She shouted, nearly colliding with Remus and his tea tray in the doorway. With a grumbled “sorry,” she disappeared up the stairs.
Remus returned to his seat with the tea as the others joined him.
“Could I have mine upstairs?” asked Harry. “I want to finish my homework.”
“Of course,” said Sirius. “Go with him, Paddy.”
With a ruff, the loyal dog followed Harry upstairs.
“That’s her third outburst this week,” said Regulus. “Even practicing the piano isn’t helping, and that’s always been her go-to when she’s stressed.”
“She’s upset,” Ruth told him. “Her father just lost an arm. It’s hard not to think about that.”
“I don’t think it’s the arm,” said Pollux, sipping his tea.
The others looked at him.
Regulus quirked an eyebrow at him. “Then what could possibly be bothering her so much?”
Pollux set his tea down. “I meant that it’s more than just your arm. The other day she was asking me quite a few questions about Barty Crouch, Jr., particularly about your relationship with him.”
“Oh,” said Regulus, a shadow falling across his eyes. “I suppose I haven’t really told her much about him. The memories are just… so painful…”
Sirius wrapped an arm around him.
“Bloody hell,” Regulus said, running his hand through his hair. “What should I do?”
“Kitty doesn’t know much about your life before you were a werewolf,” said Sirius. “Maybe it’s time you told her.”
Regulus’ shoulders’ slumped. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Speaking of which, I’m going to check on Harry,” said Sirius.
“You think he needs a conversation, too?” asked Ruth.
Sirius shrugged. “Well, he needs something. He said he wanted to finish his homework, but it’s been done for a week.”
As both brothers went upstairs, their husband, wife, and grandfather exchanged worried glances.
“To be honest, I don’t blame Kitty,” said Ruth. “I’m not very fond of Barty, either.”
“I don’t disagree with you,” said Remus. “I just hope that knowing more about his relationship with Regulus will help Kitty come to terms with everything.”
“I do hope they return soon,” Pollux said. “There is a matter of utmost importance I must discuss with the four of you.”
“About what?” asked Ruth. “Did someone escape from Azkaban again?”
“Thankfully not,” Pollux shook his head. “Nothing of that nature. It is politics.”
“Is Umbridge pushing more anti-halfbreed shenanigans?” asked Remus.
Pollux sighed. “No, but she may be involved. Tell me, have either of you seen Educational Decree Number 22?”