Chapter Text
Regulus had felt terrified as soon as he and Draco separated from their friends at King’s Cross Station. He already missed Ron’s steadiness. He wished he had Hermione’s wit at the ready. He wanted Harry at his side, his bravery always unwavering. He longed for the protection Fred and George readily gave.
But he and Draco were on their own now. While he was certain he would be safe with his parents… He had a bad feeling about this summer.
“Hello, boys,” maman said as they finally approached their parents.
“Maman. Father,” Regulus said, and he fell into their arms. Maman hugged him tightly, and father was shaking slightly.
“Shall we go home?” their father asked.
“Yes please,” Draco said quietly. They walked away from the larger crowd until it was safe enough to apparate away.
Although he felt nervous about it, it did feel good to be home. The Malfoy Manor was beautiful, especially in the summertime. Large, sprawling grounds with a garden that maman had carefully curated, lots of empty sky for flying… All the windows were open in the manor when they stepped inside, and it flooded the marble floors with golden sunlight.
“I thought I would order Lafontaine’s for dinner tonight,” maman said. “Do either of you have any requests?”
“Éclairs?” Draco wondered.
“Canelés?” Regulus added.
“Besides sweets,” maman chuckled.
“Fine… Dauphinoise potatoes?” Regulus said instead, and Draco nodded along.
“Sounds perfect. You boys go and unpack. I will take care of the dinner order,” maman said. Regulus gave her a hug alongside Draco before turning to his father.
There was a lot that needed to be said. He’d been at the graveyard when the Dark Lord returned. He’d watched the Dark Lord duel Harry. Regulus was so scared now. What was going to happen between them?
“I’ll let you boys decompress for a bit. I know this was a stressful year,” their father said, his voice very quiet. “I’ll come up in a little while, if that’s okay?”
“Ya, of course,” Regulus said. Their father nodded at them, and then he and maman disappeared into the living room areas. Regulus looked at his brother, who looked nervous. They grabbed their trunks and dragged them up the stairs to their room.
They were quiet as they began to unpack. Regulus could feel the anxiety rolling off of Draco, and he could tell his hands were shaking when he lifted some empty flasks out of his trunk.
“Coco,” Regulus said, abandoning his own unpacking to walk over to his brother.
“Sorry,” Draco whispered.
“Don’t be. It’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?” Draco snapped, and Regulus was taken back by his brother’s sudden hostility. “You were right. All along you were right. Father… he… He was there, and he was just standing by while You-Know-Who tried to kill Harry. How could he do that? You were right about last year, too. He had to be one of those Death Eaters the night of the Quidditch World Cup. He tortured those muggles.”
Draco was crying now, and Regulus threw his arms around his brother.
“I know, Draco. I know,” he whispered, and he guided them to both sit down on Draco’s bed. “It’s so hard. Father… He’s a good dad. He’s always been good to us. That version of him is hard to see separately from the person he is to others.”
“He’s not a good man, is he?” Draco whispered.
“No,” Regulus whispered back. “But neither was I.”
“No. You are a good person. Maybe Regulus Black wasn’t, but you are.”
Regulus didn’t know what to say to that. He was Regulus Black. But Regulus Black and Regulus Malfoy… They were different people. The line between them blurred a lot, but there were also times where he really could separate the two. Regulus Black had never liked sweets. Ever. But Regulus Malfoy? Well, he was a fiend for French pastries.
He was saved from having to answer by a soft knock on their door.
“Come in,” Regulus called, and Draco quickly wiped the tears from his face.
“Draco, Regulus, may I have a moment?” their father asked, peeking his head into their room.
“Of course,” Draco said, and Regulus nodded along. Their father stepped in and walked up to where they sat on Draco’s bed together. Then, he knelt in front of them, placing one of his hands on each of their knees.
“I want both of you to know,” their father said, his voice shaking slightly, “no matter what happens this summer… I love you both so much, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
Regulus’ skin prickled, and his breathing picked up.
“Papa,” he whispered. He hadn’t called his father that since he was five years old.
“Is this… Is this because… He’s back?” Draco asked, his voice very, very quiet. Their father drew in a sharp breath.
“You know? Wait… Of course you know. Potter is your friend…” Their father squeezed his shut, then seemed to steel himself before staring up at them again. “Yes. The Dark Lord is back. But I swear, he will not touch either of you.”
“Papa,” Draco also said, his voice shaky with more tears.
“You boys will lay low this summer, do you understand? I… I have no choice. I will do what is asked of me. But you two will remain here, safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“But what about you and maman?” Regulus gasped.
“You don’t need to worry about us. We are your parents, and thus not your responsibility. You, however, are mine, and I will keep you safe. I promise.”
Regulus had never felt so afraid. To keep them safe… their father could be defying the Dark Lord.
“Is he… He wouldn’t come here, would he?” Regulus asked, his voice so quiet he thought at first his father hadn’t heard him. His father’s icy blue eyes hardened.
“I cannot guarantee. You two must be prepared for that possibility,” he said, and Regulus let out a pitiful keen of despair. What would happen if the Dark Lord came? If he recognized who he was?
“H-H-He won’t make us join, w-will he?” Draco stuttered, and he gripped Regulus’ left arm. Regulus, too, had flashes of memory dart across his mind, of Lucius Malfoy standing by while he was branded.
“I won’t let that happen,” their father said, his voice surprisingly sturdy. He gazed at them both, his eyes settling on Regulus with regret burning in them. “Before you were born… I… I stood by as your mother’s cousin became a Death Eater.” Regulus drew in a sharp breath, and Draco choked on a cry. “He was not yet an adult, and I see now how wrong that was.”
Regulus’ eyes went wide. Of all the things… Lucius Malfoy regretted standing by that night?
“You two are each your own person, and you deserve to make decisions for yourself. That, I can promise to you,” their father said. Regulus didn’t know how to respond to that. His head was reeling with the knowledge that Lucius… that his father regretted the night he had stood by and watched Regulus Black become a Death Eater. His father couldn’t know exactly what that meant to him now, and for the first time in his life, Regulus wanted to tell his parents who he was… But that could mean a death sentence at this time. It was too dangerous.
Instead, Regulus threw his arms around his father and buried his head into his neck, trying to convey all the emotion he felt in the embrace. He still couldn’t forgive Lucius Malfoy for that night, but it hurt less now. Draco moved on their father’s other side, also throwing his arms around him. Their father wrapped his arms around them, and they both ignored the tears they felt on their shoulders.
It hadn’t even been a week of summer break when their maman approached them one afternoon. Her face was grim, and Regulus immediately knew this was not going to be a pleasant conversation.
“You boys are fifteen now, and fast approaching the age where you will be considered adults,” she said, and Draco also straightened at her tone. “There are certain parts of my past that I had hoped I would never have to train you in, but now I must, for your protection.”
“What are you talking about, maman?” Regulus wondered, his skin prickling.
“Do you know what Occlumency and Legilimency are?” maman asked, her voice quiet but cutting.
“No,” Draco said, looking over at Regulus, who swallowed thickly.
“Yes,” he whispered. Of course he knew. It had been such a big part of his life before. Walburga had spent years rifling through his mind before he had grown skilled enough in Occulmency to repel her. Although, he had never been able to become skilled in Legilimency, not like Sirius and Narcissa. Sirius had learned both skills. He’d had to, as a defense against Walburga. But Narcissa… She had been born with the gifts naturally, a pride amongst the Black Family.
“What are they?” Draco asked, his voice timid.
“Legilimency is the art of penetrating one’s mind, reading thoughts and making them see what you want them to see. Your defenses are stripped and you become exposed, your every thought and emotion known,” their maman said, her voice hard and not bothering to soften exactly what it was. Draco sucked in a sharp breath, and Regulus winced.
“Occlumency,” she continued, “is the opposite. It is shielding your mind against the attempts of a Legilimens to infiltrate your mind.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Regulus asked.
“Because it is time for you both to learn Occlumency,” maman said firmly.
“Why?” Draco wondered, his eyes wide with fright.
“Because you are in danger otherwise. I will not hide that from you. I will teach you both how to shield your minds. It is something you must succeed in, or you will be an open book to the Dark Lord.”
Draco shuddered and Regulus drew in a deep breath.
“How… How are we going to learn?” he asked softly.
“I will explain to you exactly how to shield your mind. If you are willing, I will practice on you,” maman said sternly. “But only with your permission. I will try to invade your mind, and you will push me out. You, Regulus, seem to already be able to possess this skill. You may have been born an Occlumens, as I was.”
“You’re an Occulmens?” Draco wondered. Regulus remembered last summer, when he had felt his maman try to pry into his mind. She must have realized then.
“I-I guess,” he said. He definitely was not born an Occlumens. It had simply been muscle memory from what he’d had to learn in his past life. He’d had to work hard to learn it in the past, and hopefully those painful years of Walburga tearing through his mind wouldn’t be in vain now.
“Will you both listen as I teach you?” their maman asked gravely.
“Yes,” Regulus answered at once. He couldn’t afford not to learn and practice. He had to be able to shield himself from the Dark Lord, and Draco needed to learn as well.
“I’ll try,” Draco said nervously.
“We start now,” maman said.
And that was how they spent the next few weeks of their summer vacation. They would sit across from their mother as she explained how to shield one’s mind from a Legilimens, and then she gave them exercises to practice. They meditated before bed, clearing their minds of any thoughts and emotion. Regulus helped Draco practice their mind exercises, but he didn’t have the skill in Legilimency to actually use it against his brother to see if their exercises held up to the real thing. He knew he would have to let his maman try to infiltrate his mind. Only then would he have a true test to see if he was safe from the Dark Lord.
But… If he failed to keep her out… she would see who he really was, and that thought was terrifying. Still…
“I’m ready for you to try it on me,” Regulus said during one lesson. The again went unsaid, and he tried not to notice his maman’s look of guilt.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I am.”
“Lucy,” Draco said, a note of fear in his voice. Regulus nodded at his brother, then turned back to his mother. His stormy eyes matched hers. She didn’t speak, but he felt the cold press of her mind against his all the same.
Regulus took a breath and emptied his mind. He imagined walls. Layer upon layer of brick. The cold pressed harder, slipping through cracks in his walls. A memory was pulled from his mind… images of throwing snowballs at Harry and Ron flashed in his head before he shoved the memory away.
No, he thought hard, but the cold presence of his maman pressed back harder. Another memory was pulled between the cracks of his walls.
He was at the old Black estate in France. Crabbe had just pushed him into the lake. He was drowning.
No! He pushed that memory aside and tried to focus his mind again, but everything seemed wobbly now. The cold pressed even deeper.
“Your sister is a big meanie!”
“I know. Come on, let’s dry your tears.”
Regulus sniffed loudly, dragging his sleeve across his face. His little five-year-old hands stung with lots of scrapes after his cousin Bellatrix had pushed him over.
“Not with your sleeve, Reggie. Use this,” his cousin, Narcissa, said, pulling out a delicate handkerchief. She gently wiped Regulus’ face.
“Thanks, ‘Cissa,” Regulus murmured. The young girl smiled brightly.
“There you go. All cleaned—”
NO! Regulus pushed the memory and the cold presence from his mind so forcefully that both he and his maman stumbled back. Her eyes had gone wide with disbelief, and Regulus felt like something cold had been poured down his back.
“M-Maman… I…” Regulus didn’t know what to say. How did he explain that memory away? Maybe he could pass it off that it had been one of hers or… “I don’t know…”
“Hush,” maman snapped, and Regulus went rigid. “Do not tell me any more. We will try again after a few more exercises.” She turned away, and Regulus looked at his brother fearfully. Draco had gone extremely pale, and he looked between Regulus and their maman with terror in his eyes.
“I don’t—” their maman gasped, before she seemed to steady herself. She turned back to them, her lips drawn into a thin line. “I will not ask. The more I know, the more dangerous it is for you. You must keep practicing. Your defenses are good, but they need to be better.”
“Okay,” Regulus said, his voice very small. His maman did not try to see into his mind again.
Regulus was reading in the living room with Draco when the air went cold. The candles all flickered, casting long shadows in the room. The sun had just set and it was getting dark. Something was wrong.
Regulus put his book down and sat up straighter. Even Draco had noticed the sudden shift, and he was looking around with wide eyes. They looked at each other, not sure what to say, and then their maman came striding into the room.
“Books away. Stand up. Remember your lessons,” she hissed. Her eyes had a wild look to them, and Regulus sprung to his feet at once as she hurried out of the room again.
“Close your mind. Think of nothing,” he ordered Draco, dragging him to his feet. “If you have to think of something, start reciting Ancient Runes in your head. Do not think about our friends.”
“Lucy, what’s going on?” Draco whimpered.
“It’s Him,” Regulus hissed. The Dark Lord had just arrived. Draco’s knees buckled, and Regulus yanked him back up again. He took a deep breath of his own, and carefully constructed a wall in his mind.
“Lucy, I’m scared,” Draco said. He looked incredibly pale, and his whole body was shivering.
“Me too. But you can’t show it. Clear your mind. Clear it, or you’re in danger,” Regulus urged. He waited until Draco had taken a few deep breaths, wrestling his face into a neutral expression, before he took his hand again.
“Together,” he said. They crept to the edge of the room and waited. They could hear voices drawing closer from the foyer. Their parents, and then the voice Regulus had hoped he would never hear again.
“… still what a lovely home you have. It will be the perfect space to use as I start my plans again,” the Dark Lord said, his voice cold and raspy. It made Regulus’ left arm sting and the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably. Draco looked over at Regulus, his face still carefully smoothed into neutrality, but his eyes pinched with fear. Regulus didn’t like it either. If their home was to be turned into the meeting grounds for Death Eaters… then they would not be safe the rest of their summer.
“You are, of course, welcome to use my home as you see fit,” they heard their father say. His voice sounded a bit strained.
“If you are so kind, let me know what time you would like to hold your meetings,” their maman said, her voice steady. “We are a bit short on help, nowadays, and I will need some extra time in order to plan for large groups. I am happy to serve as I am able.”
Regulus admired his mother. She would have been brilliant in politics, or perhaps if she had pursued law. She had made it sound like she was willing to help at a moment’s notice, while still asking for a headsup so they would know when He was coming.
“The Blacks have always been my most loyal servants. You have nothing to worry about, Narcissa. I shall soon reunite you with your sister,” the Dark Lord said.
Regulus looked at Draco, his eyes wide. Surely he couldn’t mean Bellatrix, could he? Draco bit his lip and squeezed Regulus’ hand.
“Now,” the Dark Lord’s voice hissed, “Last I remember, you had two sons. I never had the pleasure to meet them before. I should like to now.”
Draco squeezed Regulus’ hand even tighter. Regulus squared his shoulders and schooled his face.
“They should be here any moment,” their maman said. “Boys?” Regulus looked at Draco one more time, who gave a single nod. They let go of each other’s hands, and then strode into the room.
Regulus' breath stuck in his throat, and by sheer will alone his knees didn’t buckle at the sight of the Dark Lord. He was even more terrifying than before. White skin, red eyes, and slit nostrils. He looked more like a snake than a person, and he stared at them unblinkingly.
“Ah,” he said, his voice causing the skin on Regulus’ arms to stand up. “Look at these boys.”
“Good evening,” Draco said politely, and he gave a small bow as they approached. Regulus followed his lead, but remained quiet.
“What are your names, boys?” the Dark Lord demanded.
“I am Draco,” Draco said, his throat bobbing nervously.
“Regulus,” Regulus said. He didn’t want to speak to this man. He had died betraying him. NO. Don’t think of that. Blank thoughts. Blank thoughts.
“Regulus?” the Dark Lord hissed. “I should say, you do bear a striking resemblance to your dead cousin.” His hand flashed out and grabbed Regulus’ chin, twisting his face this way and that. Draco sucked in a sharp breath next to him, and Regulus focused hard on controlling his breathing.
“I am told that a lot,” he said, grateful his voice didn’t shake.
“Hm…” The Dark Lord took his hand away, but his red eyes remained fixed on Regulus’ face. “What a waste he was in the end. Hopefully you won’t be the same.”
Cold. Regulus felt so cold. He bowed his head, his nails biting into the palms of his hands as he clenched his fists so as not to let his hands shake.
“Now, there is a very specific reason I have come here today,” the Dark Lord said, his red eyes narrowing as he turned back to their parents. “I would like to see the diary of Tom Riddle.”
Regulus’ heart dropped, and his knees buckled slightly. He barely caught himself, and then had to steady Draco as he too swayed.
The diary, of course, had been destroyed. Several years ago. Why was the Dark Lord looking for it? Regulus didn’t like this. He didn’t like it as all. A magic most dark and foul… Why couldn’t he remember more clearly? Several more images flashed in his mind. A dark cave. The silver glint of a locket. What did it all mean?
“I-I-I—” their father stuttered, and Regulus’ fear for himself was replaced by fear for his father.
“The diary, Lucius,” the Dark Lord hissed, his forked tongue flashing across his lips. “I left it in your possession. Where. Is. It.” Their father remained quiet, his mouth opening and closing without any sound. Then, all at once, his head was thrown back, and it looked like he was choking. Draco surged forward, but Regulus caught him and held him back.
The Dark Lard was using Legilimency. Regulus knew the signs. He looked over to his maman, who stood frozen in place, rage clear on her face.
It only lasted a few moments, and then their father was collapsing on the ground, wheezing. The Dark Lord drew to his full height, towering over him.
“YOU LET IT BE DESTROYED?” he roared, his voice making the entire manor seem to shake.
“M-M-My Lord! I-I-I-I didn’t m-mean for—” their father pleaded.
“CRUCIO!” The Dark Lord pointed his wand at their father, and he began to scream.
“Father!” Draco wailed, and Regulus choked on a sob on his own. It was horrible! It was the most awful sound he’d ever heard, even more terrible than the screams of Heather O’Connor. This was his father screaming in pain.
“My Lord, please!” their maman exclaimed, stepping forward.
“Stay out of this, or I will turn my wand on your sons instead!” the Dark Lord threatened. He let his spell lapse, and their father laid panting on the ground.
“Narcissa… please… ” he croaked. Their maman hesitated, her eyes wet with tears.
“Very well,” the Dark Lord said, likely reading their father’s thoughts again. “Do it now while my mercy is extended.” Their maman nodded, and then strode to Regulus and Draco. She grabbed Regulus’ wrist in one hand, and Draco’s in the other, and began to drag them from the room.
“No! No! Father!” Draco screamed as he thrashed in her grip.
“Please!” Regulus pleaded, but he and Draco stood no match against their maman as she dragged them from the room. Their father’s screams started again, and Regulus sobbed.
“It is going to be okay. Stay with me, it is going to be okay,” their maman whispered as she dragged them up the stairs. The screams of pain followed them, echoing in the large hallways of the manor.
“Wh-Why is he doing this?” Draco sobbed. His face was a mess of tears.
Because he can, Regulus thought to himself, his own vision blurry as he cried. Their maman didn’t stop until they were in their room, and she settled them onto the chaise with them. Regulus buried his face into her lap, and Draco tucked himself into her side. Regulus’ chest hurt so bad as he choked on his cries.
No matter what had happened in the past, that was his father being tortured downstairs, and it was the most terrible feeling in the world to be so helpless as his family was hurt. Why was he always so helpless?
They sat in silence until Regulus and Draco had grown too exhausted to continue crying. They had no way of knowing how much time had passed, and their mother didn’t move or speak. Regulus felt so tired, but he couldn’t find sleep either. Draco couldn’t either, and they held hands silently as they waited.
It could have been minutes or hours, but the door to their room finally creaked open.
“Father!” Draco wailed, flinging himself from the couch and over to their father. Regulus followed suit, his heart dropping at the sight of him.
Their father was extremely pale, and the veins on his neck and face were dark and inflamed. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair had fallen out of the ponytail it had been in. Still, he caught Draco and Regulus as they barreled into his arms.
“I’m so sorry, boys. I am so, so sorry,” their father said, hugging them tightly. Tears sprung to Regulus’ eyes again as he embraced his father. His whole body was shaking.
“I’m sorry, too,” Draco cried, and that hurt Regulus even more. No doubt, Draco had found a way to blame himself. He had been there with Harry, afterall, when the diary had been destroyed.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I am sorry that you had to see that. And I am sorry that it will likely not be the last…”
“What do you mean?” Regulus asked, drawing back fearfully to stare at his father.
“The Dark Lord has said he will use our home as his base of operations. I cannot refuse, less I suffer the consequences,” their father said softly, and he placed a hand on Regulus’ shoulder. “But you have my word… I will protect you and Draco. He will not come near you.”
He would not come near them, and their father would pay the price for that. Regulus let out a long, drawn out cry, and buried his face into his father’s chest.
The world had never seemed so dark.