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Chapter Text

Harry stares at the body that just fell out of the Veil. He can’t believe it actually worked.

It’s been years since Sirius fell through the Veil, but the body that lies in front of Harry shows no sign of that. Instead, it almost looks like Sirius is sleeping, though most people wouldn’t sleep with their faces pressed against the cold stone floor.

And then the unimaginable happens: The body groans. Harry gasps for breath and takes a couple of steps back.

This can’t be happening. It’s impossible. You can’t bring back the dead!

Harry’s heart is beating so fast, he can feel it in his fingertips. Not knowing what to do, Harry looks at the body in front of him. The living, breathing body of his dead godfather. Slowly, Harry steps forwards and kneels down beside Sirius.

Sirius groans once again and rolls onto his back. Harry flinches back when he sees the unfamiliar face. That isn’t Sirius. The wave of disappointment that washes through him is overwhelming.

The stranger groans a third time and grimaces. His eyes are closed, but Harry can see them moving behind his eyelids.

Not sure if he should touch him, Harry hovers awkwardly beside the man. “Are you alright?”

The man opens his eyes, squinting. “Where am I?”

“The Ministry of Magic.”

The man frowns and looks around. “How did I get here? I don’t… What’s going on? I feel weird.”

“That’s understandable.” It would be strange if someone who just came back from the dead were perfectly fine. “I will tell you everything I know. But first, I need to make sure that you’re alright. May I check you for physical and mental injuries?”

The man furrows his brow and looks Harry up and down. “Yes, but if you hurt me, I’ll torture you into insanity.”

Harry has to suppress a chuckle. It’s been a long time since he let a comment like that influence his actions.

“I won’t. Now hold still.”

Harry goes through all the diagnosis spells he knows, which are quite a lot. Luckily, most of them come back negatively. The stranger seems to be almost in perfect health, apart from a splitting headache and some numbness in his limbs.

Once Harry finished the last spell, he puts his wand away. Then he notices that the man’s expression has changed. His gaze looks much more focused, and there is a fine line between his eyebrows.

“I should be dead. The lake… The poison… Who are you? Why did you bring me here? Do you work for the Dark Lord?”

Harry blinks. What? He doesn’t know who I am? And he thinks Voldemort is still alive? That must mean that the man has been dead for quite a while already. But, of course, it’s also possible that he misses some of his memories. Harry’s diagnosis spells didn’t cover memory loss.

“My name is Harry Potter. And, to be honest, I have no idea why you’re here. I was trying to bring Sirius Black’s body back.”

The man narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about? My brother isn’t dead.”

Harry’s eyes widen. What…? That can’t be possible. Regulus Black died a natural death. Why should he, of all people, fall through the Veil into the land of the living?

Harry bites his lip and looks at the man a bit closer, comparing his appearance to Sirius’. The similarities are so obvious it’s ridiculous. Harry is surprised he didn’t notice them right away. The man has the same hair and eyes as Sirius, and even his face as a whole looks eerily familiar.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Regulus’ hand slips into his robe, clearly trying to make it look like a casual movement. After a second, he freezes. “Where is my wand?”

“I don’t know. I’m surprised you even have clothes on.”

Regulus frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, because I don’t want you to freak out! As I said, I will tell you everything I know. But I’m not entirely sure what’s going on here either. I need a little context. Now, again: what’s the last thing you remember?”

“Fine. The last thing I remember is being pulled underwater by Inferi.” Regulus swallows audibly. “I breathed in water when the urge to take a breath became too strong. I’m not sure why I am still alive. Someone must have saved me, but I don’t know who.”

Harry nods slowly. “And the clothes you’re wearing right now… Did you wear them when the Inferi pulled you underwater?”

Regulus looks down at his clothes. “Yes. I think so.”

“That’s what I thought.” Regulus must have come back with everything he wore the moment he died. That would explain why he’s wearing clothes but doesn’t have his wand. He probably lost it when the Inferi pulled him underwater.

“Hey!” Regulus interrupts his thought process. “You will tell me what’s going on, now! Understood?”

Harry takes a deep breath. He has no idea how Regulus will react.

“Okay. I know this will be hard to believe, but I swear I’m telling you the truth. You did die that day you were pulled underwater. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Kreacher. He will confirm it. You were dead for roughly twenty years.”

Chapter Text

Regulus stares at him for a couple of seconds. Then he starts laughing. “You’re insane.”

“I’m not,” Harry says evenly.

“No one has ever come back from the dead. It’s impossible.”

“Just because no one has ever done it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. I mean, look at me. I’m the first person who survived the killing curse.”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that.

“Right. You survived the killing curse. Of course, you have. Now, if you excuse me, I really need to go-”

Harry grabs Regulus’ arm to stop him from leaving.

Regulus narrows his eyes. “Let me go.”

“You can’t go out there. Everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“I don’t care. Now, let me go.”

“I can’t do that.” Regulus tries to pull his arm away, and Harry tightens his grip. “No, listen to me. Even if I were lying to you, it would still be a bad idea for you to walk out of here. You’re a civilian. You have no right to be in the Department of Mysteries. How will you explain what you were doing here?

“I’ll tell them the truth: that you brought me here against my will.”

Harry shakes his head. “That wouldn’t work. All I would have to do is tell them to look at your forearm. Who would they believe? A Death Eater or me?”

For a second, he can see fear in Regulus’ eyes. Harry bites his lips. Regulus decided to work against Voldemort, and he paid for his mistakes with his life. It doesn’t matter that his death was only temporary. Harry still won’t hand him over to the Aurors.

“Are you threatening me?”

Harry hesitates. “Maybe.”

Regulus exhales sharply. “Let go of my arm. I promise I’m not going anywhere. For now, at least.”

Harry slowly loosens his grip, ready to interfere the second Regulus takes a step towards the door.

“What do you want from me?”

Harry licks his lips. That’s a good question, actually. He could just let Regulus do whatever the hell he wants and watch the drama unfold. But that doesn’t seem right.

“Nothing, really. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Regulus looks at him incredulously. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious.”

“Why should you care if I get hurt? You just threatened to expose me as a Death Eater. Come to think of it, how do you even know I’m a Death Eater?”

Harry frowns. Regulus has a point. It really does look like Harry is contradicting himself. “I knew your brother. I think he would want me to help you.”

“Then you don’t know my brother very well. Sirius hates me.” Regulus sighs. “Look, if you don’t want anything from me, why are you standing in my way? I don’t get it.”

“I just told you why. I don’t want you to get hurt. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen if everyone finds out that you’re back from the dead. You might even get accused of having made a Horcrux.”

Regulus freezes. “What? How do you know about Horcruxes?”

“Dumbledore told me about them.” Harry bites his lips. Should I…? Yes. Maybe this way, I will get through to him. “I know you were trying to get your hands on one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes and that you don’t want to be a Death Eater anymore. I’m trying to help you. Please, let me.”

Regulus stares at him for a very long time. Harry gives him the time to think, trying to look as honest and sincere as he can.

“How…” Regulus clears his throat. “How do you know all of that?”

“That’s a long story. I promise to answer all of your questions once I proved to you that I’m telling the truth, that you really have been dead for over two decades.”

Regulus folds his arms. “And how are you going to prove that?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Harry takes a deep breath. “Kreacher!”

Chapter Text

Kreacher appears with a loud bang.

“Master Harry called?” Kreacher’s eyes widen when he sees Regulus. “Master Regulus! Master Regulus is alive!”

Kreacher storms forwards and wraps his arms around Regulus’ leg. Regulus stares at the house-elf, his eyes widening slightly. After a second, he reaches out and pets Kreacher’s head.

“Master Regulus is alive!” The house-elf repeats over and over again, sobbing hysterically.

Regulus glances at Harry angrily. “Why did you do that?”

Harry squares his shoulders. “You think I’m lying to you. Well, Kreacher won’t do that, will he? Besides, he deserves to know you’re alive. He’s ridiculously devoted to you.”

Regulus scoffs and focuses his attention on Kreacher again. As soon as his eyes are on the house-elf, his expression becomes gentler.

Harry nods. Until now, everything he has seen of Regulus fits into the picture he has of him. He’s not a nice person. Otherwise, he never would have considered joining the Death Eaters. He confirmed that by threatening to torture Harry into insanity. But he also has a handful of redeeming qualities. How he treads Kreacher is one of them. The way he turned on Voldemort is another.

“Kreacher, it is very important that you answer my next question truthfully.”

The house-elf looks up at Regulus and sniffs. “Of course, Master Regulus! Always!”

“I need you to tell me which year it is.”

To Harry’s surprise, the question doesn’t confuse Kreacher. Maybe he’s so used to not questioning his masters that it doesn’t even occur to him to consider the implications of Regulus’ question.

“It’s 2001, Master Regulus.” Kreacher frowns like he just noticed something. “Why does Master Regulus look like he hasn’t aged at all?”

Regulus takes a shaky breath and closes his eyes.

Harry turns his back on him to give him some resemblance of privacy. Finding out that you have been dead for over two decades must be hard to accept. Harry will give him all the time he needs to come to terms with that.

For a while, all Harry hears is Kreacher's sobbing. He’s probably still hugging Regulus’ leg and won’t let go anytime soon unless he’s forced to.

“Potter.”

Harry turns around to find Regulus staring at him. “Yes?”

“Why did Kreacher come when you called him?”

Harry grimaces. “I... I’m not sure if I should-”

“I’m sick and tired of you saying that you can’t tell me something yet. I believe you, okay? You have convinced me that I’ve been dead for two decades, so you have no excuse to avoid my questions anymore.”

Harry hesitates. “I’m not trying to avoid your questions. I just don’t want you to get-”

“Hurt. I get it. Now answer the question, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Fine. Kreacher listens to me because he belongs to me. I inherited him from Sirius.”

Regulus frowns. “That doesn’t make any... Did Sirius marry a Potter or what? Are you his son?”

Harry looks to the side, shuffling his feet. Part of him wants to wait as long as possible before telling Regulus that his family is dead. But another, much larger part refuses to do that. Harry has been left in the dark often enough to know how much that sucks. Harry can’t spare Regulus the pain of losing his family. All he can do is stop patronizing him.

Harry takes a deep breath. “No, Sirius didn’t have any kids. I inherited Grimmauld Place and Kreacher because I was Sirius’ heir, and when he died, no one by the name of Black was still alive.”

Harry averts his eyes once again, but not in time to miss Regulus' shivering. This time, the silence lasts even longer. When Regulus speaks up again, his voice sounds firmer than Harry expected.

“So you’re telling me that my entire family is dead, and the house that should be mine belongs to you, someone who isn’t even a Black.”

Harry bites his lips. “I know it’s a lot to take in. You can move in with me, for now, if you want to. The house is more than big enough, after all.”

Regulus narrows his eyes and looks Harry up and down in a way that makes Harry’s hair stand on end.

“You’re serious,” Regulus says, baffled. “You will let me live in your house, even though you don’t know me at all.”

Harry shrugs. “You have nowhere else to go, right?”

“Why do you care? Again, you don’t know me, and you don’t owe me anything.”

Harry sighs impatiently. Why is this so hard for Regulus to accept?

“Do I really need a reason to want to help you?” When Regulus just looks at him, Harry rolls his eyes. “Fine. You’re Sirius’ brother, and Sirius was like a father to me. You’re family. Of course, I want to help you.”

Regulus nods slowly. Just as Harry expected, the comment about family got to him. “Okay. So what now? How do we get out of here? I can’t exactly walk through the main entrance when everyone thinks I’m dead.”

“You won’t have to.” Harry gestures towards Kreacher, who’s still sobbing against Regulus’ leg. “Kreacher, I want you to bring Regulus to Grimmauld Place. Can you do that for me?”

The house-elf nods enthusiastically. “Yes, of course!”

Regulus frowns. “What about you? Won’t you come along?”

“I can’t. I still have to work for another hour and a half.”

Regulus raises his eyebrows. “You work here? In the Department of Mysteries?”

“Yes. I’m an Unspeakable.”

“Really?” Regulus looks at Harry skeptically. “At your age? You can’t be older than eighteen.”

Harry grinds his teeth. He knows he looks younger than he is because everyone keeps telling him that, but it’s still annoying to hear. “Yes, I am. I’m twenty-one. Anyway, you should go, now. Someone could come in any second. The door isn’t locked.”

“Alright,” Regulus says and grabs Kreacher’s hand, all the while holding Harry’s gaze. “When you come home from work, I expect answers.”

And before Harry can respond, Kreacher and Regulus disappear with a loud bang.

Chapter Text

When Harry opens the door to Grimmauld Place, he expects Regulus to wait on the other side. But to his surprise, he isn’t there. Harry frowns and closes the door. He tells himself that it could have many reasons why Regulus isn’t waiting for him. It doesn’t have to mean anything bad.

Harry considers calling Kreacher to tell him where Regulus is but discards the idea. Kreacher is probably still by Regulus’ side and would loath it to be wrenched away from him. So instead, Harry goes looking for Regulus by himself.

After checking Regulus’ old room, he knocks on Sirius’ door and waits a couple of seconds. Then he hesitantly opens the door. When he finds Regulus sitting on Sirius’ bed, staring into thin air, he relaxes slightly. Harry opens his mouth to announce his presence but hesitates. There is something about Regulus’ expression that makes Harry feel like he’s intruding.

Harry bites his lips. Maybe he should leave Regulus alone for now. He doesn’t think Regulus has seen him yet, so he draws back to close the door.

“Don’t. Stay.”

Harry blinks. So he did notice him.

Harry opens the door wider and steps into the room. After looking around, he raises his eyebrows. “Where is Kreacher?”

“I told him I needed to be alone for a while.”

And yet, here I am. I guess he craves answers more than he wants to be alone.

“Why aren’t you in your own room?”

“This is the only place that feels like home. The only room that has stayed the same, more or less.”

Harry looks around and cringes. The Gryffindor banners and photos of Muggle motorbikes on the wall all but scream fuck tradition and fuck blood purity. That this room reminds Regulus of how Grimmauld Place used to look like the most says a lot. Suddenly, Harry feels uncomfortable just standing there, and he walks to the nearest chair to sit down.

“I talked with Kreacher and my mother’s portrait. They told me a bit about what has been going on in this house in the last two decades.”

Harry grimaces. “They don’t… I mean, they aren’t the best source.”

For the first time since Harry entered the room, Regulus looks at him. Harry shivers and almost averts his eyes. “So you and your friends didn’t throw away most of my family’s possessions?”

“Well… We did, but a lot of it was pretty dangerous.”

Regulus’ eyes are blazing. “Some of those objects were in my family for generations. You had no right to throw them away like they were nothing!”

Regulus stands up and starts walking up and down, giving Harry angry glances now and then.

“How would you feel if someone threw away everything you inherited from your parents?”

Harry swallows. His mind immediately goes to the invisibility cloak and the Marauder’s Map. “I’d be devastated.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So don’t act like you did nothing wrong.”

Harry shakes his head. “It wasn’t my decision. These things belonged to Sirius. He wanted to throw them away.”

Regulus laughs humorlessly. “Oh, Sirius. My dear brother. Of course, he threw everything away. He never understood what it means to be a family. He only ever cared about himself.”

Harry clenches his fist. He can understand Regulus’ anger, but that doesn’t mean that he will sit by and let him insult Sirius.

“Take that back. Sirius wasn’t perfect, but he was hardly selfish.”

“Sirius was the definition of selfish. He went out of his way to be difficult, just because he thought he had to rebel against every little thing our parents said and did. He always acted like he was the only one in the family who knew what it meant to be a decent person. He thought the rest of us were beneath him.”

Harry grinds his teeth. “I don’t know how Sirius was like when he was younger,” he admits. “But when I got to know him, he was nice and supportive and anything but selfish. He even broke out of Azkaban to make sure Pettigrew couldn’t hurt me.”

Regulus stops walking up and down and stares at Harry.

“Sirius was in Azkaban? Are you kidding me?” Regulus closes his eyes and exhales sharply. He walks over to Sirius’ bed and falls down on it like a puppet whose strings have been cut. “Dammit. I thought I could deal with this, but I can’t. I’ve got nothing left. Everyone I’ve ever known is gone. Even If they aren’t dead, they can’t be the same anymore. Not after two decades.”

Harry licks his lips. Regulus looks devastated. But…

“I think you’re doing incredibly well. If I were you, I’d be kicking and screaming and destroying everything around me. I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love. But losing everyone at once… I can’t even imagine how that must feel like.”

Regulus scoffs. “You don’t know what I did while you were at work.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re holding up pretty well, right now. Much better than I did when Sirius died.”

“You don’t need to cheer me up. I don’t need your support.”

“I didn’t say you did. And I’m not trying to cheer you up for the sake of it. I meant what I said.”

Regulus looks at Harry skeptically for a moment. Then his face becomes smooth. Harry hopes that means Regulus believes him.

“So,” Harry says and leans back. “You said you have questions, right? Go ahead and ask.”

Chapter Text

“Tell me about Sirius. What did he do to end up in Azkaban?”

Harry takes a deep breath. “Sirius didn’t do anything. He was innocent. Peter Pettigrew only made it look like Sirius killed thirteen people with a single curse.”

Regulus frowns. “I thought Pettigrew was his friend. Why would he do that to Sirius?”

“Do you want the long or the short version?”

Regulus hesitates. “The short one. For now.”

“Okay. Pettigrew was a Death Eater. He was responsible for my parents’ death, who were two of Sirius’ closest friends. As soon as Sirius found out about that, he went to confront Pettigrew. And Pettigrew used that opportunity to make it look like Sirius was the one who became a Death Eater and betrayed my parents.”

“Pettigrew was a Death Eater?”

Harry blinks. “You didn’t know?”

“Of course not. Many Death Eaters use fake names and wear masks whenever they can.”

Harry nods slowly. It makes sense that they wanted to keep their identity hidden. And Pettigrew had even more reason to do so than most. If the Order of the Phoenix had found out he was a spy, he would have been useless for Voldemort.

“You said Sirius broke out of Azkaban. How did he do that? I thought that’s impossible.”

“Actually, many people have broken out of Azkaban by now.” Harry catches Regulus’ incredulous look and adds, “Anyway, that’s another story. Yes, Sirius was the first one to break out of Azkaban. He used his Animagus form. As a dog, he was thin enough to fit through the bars.” Harry sees Regulus’ eyes widening slightly. “You didn’t know he was an Animagus.”

Regulus exhales slowly, gazing at one of the Gryffindor banners. “No, I didn’t. But I knew he was interested in becoming one. He read enough books about the topic to make that obvious. I didn’t think he’d actually try it, though. It can have disastrous consequences if you don’t do it right.”

Harry shrugs. “Sirius made a habit out of taking risks, didn’t he? If he had stopped to think for a second, he would have realized that it’s not a good idea to confront Pettigrew on his own. He should have told at least one person what was going on. Maybe then he wouldn’t have ended up in Azkaban, and I could have grown up with my godfather instead of with the Dursleys.”

“Wait. Hold on a second.” Regulus pushes a strand of hair out of his eyes and frowns. “Are you telling me you’re Sirius’ godson?” Regulus narrows his eyes and looks at Harry closely. “Who were your parents? You look a bit like James Potter.”

Harry chuckles. He can’t help himself. The question is just too unexpected.

“What’s so funny?”

Harry shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m just not used to meeting someone who doesn’t know who I am.”

Regulus raises his eyebrows. “Why? Are you some kind of celebrity?”

“God, no.” Harry shudders. Just thinking about being called a celebrity gives him the creeps. “Celebrity isn’t the right word. I’m just… Well, it’s kinda hard to explain. Everyone knows who I am, sure, but the reason why is pretty stupid.”

Regulus scoffs. “You know, you suck at explaining who you are.”

“That’s because I don’t understand why everyone makes such a big deal out of it. But if you really want to know… I told you I survived the killing curse, right? Well, Voldemort tried to kill me when I was a baby. He failed and disappeared from the face of the earth for thirteen years. That’s why everyone knows who I am.”

Regulus stares at him for a couple of seconds. Then he licks his lips. “What are you gonna tell me next, huh? That Dumbledore was the Dark Lord’s biggest supporter all along? There is no way a baby could have defeated the Dark Lord!”

Harry shrugs. “Why should I lie to you? As soon as you talk with anyone who isn’t me, my lies would get exposed. Besides, I wasn’t the one who defeated Voldemort. It was my mother. She let Voldemort kill her, even though he was willing to spare her life. Her sacrifice protected me from Voldemort’s curse.”

Regulus shudders. “Can you please stop calling the Dark Lord by his name?”

“Why? You haven’t complained about that until now.”

“Yes, because you keep confronting me with ridiculous claim after ridiculous claim! It’s rather distracting. Now, how about you act like a normal person and call him You-know-who or something like that!”

Harry rolls his eyes. He will never understand how a name can scare you. It’s just a word. It doesn’t have any power in and of itself. “Fine. If you insist, I’ll call him Tom Riddle. That’s the name his mother gave him.”

Once again, Regulus stares at him. Harry suppresses a sigh and waits until Regulus gets over his surprise. Being stared at all the time is getting old really quick.

“How do you know his real name?”

“One of Volde-” Harry clears his throat. “I mean, one of Riddle’s Horcruxes told me that.”

Regulus freezes. “What? He made more than one Horcrux?”

“Yes. He created seven in total, though one of them was made unintentionally.”

Regulus flinches. He looks like he just got hit in the face. “No, that can’t be true. Even the Dark Lord isn’t insane enough to try that.”

“Yes, he was. But none of that matters anymore. All seven Horcruxes are destroyed. Riddle is gone, and he’s not coming back.”

Chapter Text

“The Dark Lord is dead? For good?”

“Yes.”

Regulus shudders and closes his eyes. Harry watches as Regulus clenches his shivering hands to fists.

Harry frowns. “You don’t seem happy about that.”

He looks at Regulus, waiting for him to respond, his muscles becoming tenser every second Regulus remains silent. Did he misjudge Regulus? Is there still some part of him that supports Voldemort?

No. That’s ridiculous. Harry read the note Regulus left behind in the fake locket. He wanted to see Voldemort dead at all costs. So why isn’t he relieved to find out he’s gone?

Regulus clears his throat. “I’m not sure I can believe you. I mean, the Dark Lord made seven Horcruxes, and all seven of them were destroyed? That sounds too good to be true. Are you sure there is no way for the Dark Lord to come back?”

“Yes,” Harry says without hesitating.

“Why are you so sure? Why are you convinced you didn’t miss a Horcrux or that the Dark Lord didn’t have some other means to stay immortal on top of the Horcruxes?”

Harry licks his lips, hesitating. “I don’t think I can tell you that yet.”

Regulus scoffs. “How often do I need to tell you that you don’t have to keep things from me anymore? You don’t-”

“This isn’t about you,” Harry interrupts him. “At least not the way you seem to think. I can’t explain it to you because it’s a secret that I have only shared with a handful of people, people I trust with all my heart. No offense, but I don’t know you well enough to know you won’t betray me. What the general public knows will have to be enough for you.”

Regulus squares his shoulders and stands up. He walks around the room the way only a Slytherin can. Casual, but with a certain grace and purpose to it.

“Doesn’t the world deserve to know why the Dark Lord won’t come back? How do you justify keeping that information to yourself? Why should you and a couple of people you handpicked be the only people knowing about it?”

Harry grinds his teeth. “You’re making it sound like I’m being unreasonable. I’m not. I just don’t want the Prophet to spread lies and misinformation about me again.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Everyone who’s famous gets some bad publicity.”

“It’s not just bad publicity. If you knew what lies the Prophet has spread about me, you wouldn’t call it that. They wrote I was crazy, that I might turn into the next Dark Lord and that I killed Albus Dumbledore. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I don’t know what will happen if it becomes common knowledge how I know there is no way for Riddle to come back.”

If everyone finds out I had a connection to Voldemort’s mind, that I was a bloody Horcrux, some people might demand my death, arguing that you can’t be sure the Horcrux inside me is destroyed as long as I’m alive.

“I’m not stupid enough to risk becoming a scapegoat once again. Maybe it would be different if the general public thought Riddle could come back. Maybe then I would speak up. But this way, I don’t see why I should put myself through that.”

Regulus looks at him for a while, his face expressionless. It makes Harry uncomfortable that he can’t tell what Regulus is thinking, and he hunches his shoulders.

Then, after a minute or two, Regulus smiles. “So they wouldn’t have believed you after all.”

Harry frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“You threatened to expose me as a Death Eater, remember? You asked me who I thought they would believe. You or me. Now, if the public thinks you’re crazy, they have no reason to trust your words, right?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “They don’t think I’m crazy right now. The Prophet only pushed that narrative right after Riddle returned. They wanted everyone to think I lost my mind so that no one would believe my claims that Riddle was back.”

Regulus snorts. “So the Prophet and the ministry haven’t changed at all, have they?” He shakes his head. “So, if you won’t tell me why the Dark Lord is dead for good, will you at least tell me how the locket was destroyed? I deserve to know that, don’t I?”

“Sure. Well, to be honest, the locket was one of the trickiest Horcruxes. Not that any of them were easy to get rid of, of course.

Dumbledore and I went to that lake with the Inferi in it about four years ago. We didn’t know that you had already removed the locket, of course. Dumbledore drank the damn potion, and we took the fake locket you left behind. It took us a while to find the real locket and destroy it with Basilisk venom.”

Regulus freezes and stays like that long enough for Harry to become concerned. His eyes look dull, like all light and life has been sucked out of them.

“Regulus…? Are you alright?”

Regulus ignores his question and says, “so, it was for nothing, then. I died for nothing. If I hadn’t taken the locket, you would have found the Horcrux and destroyed it. Getting involved was unnecessary.”

Harry bites his lip. “I don’t see it like that. You did the right thing. You turned your back on Riddle and tried to bring him one step closer to mortality. That’s all that matters.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You aren’t the one whose death was meaningless.”

“No,” Harry admits. “But I know how it feels like to suffer for no reason. It sucks, I know. But at least you have the knowledge that you had the best intentions. Do you really think that has no value at all?”

Regulus shakes his head. “Stop talking. I can’t listen to this right now. Please go now.”

“Of course, if that’s what you want…” Harry stands up and walks to the door. “If you need anything, you can call Kreacher or me at any time. I’ll have dinner in about an hour. You can join me if you want.”

And with that, Harry opens the door and leaves Regulus behind.

Chapter Text

Regulus doesn’t come down for dinner. In fact, Harry doesn’t see a glimpse of him in the next twenty-four hours, though Kreacher assures him Regulus asked for food a couple of times.

Eventually, Harry has had enough and knocks on Regulus’ door. Moping around won’t do Regulus any good. It’s time for him to realize how lucky he is that he got a second chance.

“Come in.”

Harry opens the door and steps into the room. Regulus sits at the desk, his nose buried in a book. Slowly, he raises his head and closes the book in a deliberate movement.

Harry glances at the title and suppresses a groan. He thought he threw that stupid book away. How did Regulus find it so quickly? And why did he decide to read it?

Well. The second question has an obvious answer. Regulus knows next to nothing about Harry. So, of course, he wants to find out as much as possible about the person who brought him back from the dead.

“You have lived quite a life, Potter.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I don’t know about that. Rita Skeeter just likes to dramatize things.”

Regulus flips through the book, stopping now and then to read a sentence or look at a picture. “So this book isn’t very accurate?”

Harry grimaces.

“Yes, it is,” he grudgingly admits.

Skeeter hadn’t dared to write lies about Harry, knowing Harry could expose her as an Animagus at any time. At least, that’s the only reason Harry can think of why she didn’t drag his name through the mud as she did Dumbledore's.

“I still wish Skeeter hadn’t written it. Not every aspect of my life needs to be public knowledge.”

Regulus cocks his head. “You said you’re famous for surviving the killing curse.”

“Yes? And?”

What is Regulus trying to say? That he’s famous for something else? It’s been a while since Harry skimmed through the book, but he would have remembered if Skeeter had claimed something like that.

Regulus snorts and shakes his head.

“Oh, forget it.” Regulus closes the book and puts it back on the shelf. “So, why did you knock at my door?”

Harry blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change of subject.

“You need a new wand, right? We could go to Diagon Alley today.”

Regulus frowns. “Yes, I do need a wand... But I don’t have any money, do I?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got more than enough money.”

Harry swallows when he remembers that a good portion of that money came from Sirius. Does that mean some of it should belong to Regulus? He will have to look into where Sirius got all that money from…

Regulus looks at Harry with a strange look in his eyes. “That’s… very generous of you.”

Harry shrugs. He doesn’t think so. It’s just the right thing to do, especially since Harry has more money than he could ever spend.

Regulus clears his throat. “There is also the problem that people think I’m dead. I don’t want to risk being seen by anyone who knows me.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. I only need to alter your appearance. Shouldn’t take me more than a couple of minutes.”

Harry draws his wand, carefully keeping the tip pointed away from Regulus. A little confused, he notices that Regulus neither flinches back nor eyes the wand suspiciously.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

Harry hesitates for a moment, surprised that Regulus doesn’t seem to have any reservations. Harry, for one, would feel extremely vulnerable in Regulus’ situation.

Harry shakes his head and raises his wand. He shouldn’t expect Regulus to act the same way Harry would. That’s stupid.

“All right,” Harry says and swings his wand, altering the form and length of Regulus’ nose until it looks crocked and long, like Snape’s nose was. It’s easier for Harry to change someone’s appearance when he has a clear picture in mind. Using people he knows as references always helps with that.

After that, he gives Regulus Neville’s eyes and Ron’s freckles, as well as a darker skin tone and light brown hair. Then he conjures a mirror and holds it up so that Regulus can see his own reflection.

“What do you think? Do you look different enough?”

Regulus gives his face a critical look and touches his nose. “Yeah, that should work.”

“Good.”

Harry turns the mirror around and points the wand at his own face.

Regulus frowns. “What are you doing?”

“Changing my appearance as well.”

“I can see that. But why?”

After he changed the color of his eyes to brown, Harry stops long enough to say, “I’m not in the mood to have people staring at me.”

He swings his wand again and watches as his hair turns blond. Then he lengthens it so that it covers his scar. He gives his reflection a thoughtful look and nods. That should be enough. His hair, scar, and eyes are the characteristics everyone associates with him, and it’s crazy how different his face looks with another hair color.

“You do that regularly,” Regulus says, sounding stunned.

Harry sighs. Slytherins. Why do they always think fame is something to be cherished?

“I don’t like getting stared at. Why the hell is that so fucking hard to understand?” Regulus raises his eyebrows, and Harry takes a deep breath to calm down. “Anyway, are you ready to go?”

Chapter Text

“Will you join me for dinner today?” Harry asks when he closes the door behind them.

Luckily, their trip to Diagon Alley had been pretty short. Harry doesn’t know what he would have done if someone had recognized Regulus. He knows it hadn’t been very likely - after all, Harry had changed Regulus’ appearances for that very reason - but that doesn’t change the fact that he is still glad to be back home.

It’s safer here.

“Of course.” Regulus glances at Harry. “I wasn’t trying to be rude by avoiding you-”

“I know,” Harry says and steps into the kitchen, aware that Regulus is right behind him. “You don’t need to explain yourself.”

As soon as they sit down at the kitchen table, Kreacher appears to serve them dinner. Unsurprisingly, the house-elf went out of his way to make the meal as extravagant as possible. He’s still staring at Regulus like he’s afraid he will turn into thin air any second.

Harry thanks Kreacher for the meal, as always, but when Regulus does the same, the house-elf almost faints. Harry suppresses a curse and does his best to calm Kreacher down. It takes a while, but eventually, Kreacher finally stops crying and disappears after bowing to them.

Harry sighs. “House-elves can be really exhausting.”

“Can you blame him?” Regulus raises his wineglass to take a sip. “He thought he’d never see a Black again.”

“I know. It’s still exhausting.” Harry eyes the glass in Regulus’ hand. There are two words written on the bottom of it. Can it be…? Yes. Toujours Pur. So, the Order of the Phoenix didn’t throw everything away, after all. It doesn’t surprise Harry that Kreacher chose this wineglass for Regulus.

Harry bites his lips. “Regulus… Just how much do you value your family’s heirlooms?”

Regulus raises his eyebrows. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

Regulus frowns and lays his knife and fork to the side. After a second, Harry follows his example.

“I don’t value everything my family owned equally, of course. But I would give a lot to get certain heirlooms back.”

Harry nods. “Can you make me a list of the stuff you miss the most?”

“To what purpose? The Order of the Phoenix threw everything away, remember?”

“Not all of it is lost forever. Mundungus Fletcher stole some things and sold them. I know how I might get some of them back.”

Regulus stares at him. “You would do that for me?”

“Sure.”

Regulus hesitates. “I don’t think I can let you do that. I owe you too much already.”

Harry blinks. That sounds like something a Gryffindor would say. He thought Regulus is the kind of guy who takes everything that’s offered to him without asking too many questions.

On the other hand, maybe Regulus just can’t stand the thought of being in Harry’s debt.

“I won’t ask for anything in return if you are concerned about that.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want to pay you back. It’s that I’m afraid I won’t be able to. Is that so hard to understand?”

It isn’t. At least, not for Harry.

“Okay, how about this: I’ll try to get your family’s heirlooms back, not for you but because it will make me feel better.”

Regulus stares at him for a moment. Then he laughs. “You’re unbelievable.”

Harry grins. “I hope you mean that in a good way.”

“That you have to ask this question proves my point.” Regulus sighs. “Okay, if you are sure you want to do this, I won’t stop you. But don’t say I tricked you into doing this in a couple of weeks.”

“In case you forgot, I was the one who brought your family’s heirlooms up. So, unless I find out you played with my mind somehow, it would be stupid to accuse you of tricking me. And in case you did play with my mind, well, then…”

Then what? Harry isn’t entirely sure what he would do in that case. Hopefully, Regulus isn’t stupid enough to try something like that.

Regulus sits up straight and looks at Harry calmly all of a sudden. “I’m not playing with your mind. I will never do that.”

Harry looks at Regulus for a long moment, trying to figure out if he’s being honest or not. He might only be saying what Harry wants to hear, but he doesn’t think that is the case. Regulus looks too sincere, and, as far as Harry knows, he has no reason to lie.

So Harry just inclines his head and says, “Good to know.”

Chapter Text

Harry is almost done eating when Regulus speaks up again.

“Do you think I will ever be able to walk around as myself again?”

Harry swallows and pushes his plate to the side. “I don’t know. But I wouldn’t want to live like that.”

Regulus snorts. “Says the guy who changes his appearance when he goes to Diagon Alley.”

“That’s different. I don’t have to change my appearance. I just prefer it that way. And the worst thing that could happen if someone recognizes me is some bad publicity. You, on the other hand…”

“Yes? What do you think will happen if people find out I’m not dead anymore?”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s hard to say. All I know is that witches and wizards can be pretty hysterical and fearful. It could end very badly.” Harry glances at Regulus. “I already told you people might think you made a Horcrux. I wasn’t just trying to scare you when I said that.”

Harry never thought he might come to regret the way he taunted Voldemort minutes before his death. He didn’t think mentioning Horcruxes in front of an audience could have any negative ramifications at the time. Now everyone knows everything there is to know about Horcruxes, which, oddly enough, is kind of a problem if only because people might come to the wrong conclusion.

Regulus rubs his temple and leans back in his chair. “There must be some middle ground between never showing my face again and revealing to everyone that I’m back from the dead.”

Harry hesitates. “Well… Maybe there is some way to make it look like you were never dead to begin with.”

“And how is that supposed to work? I mean, look at me. No one will believe I’m around forty years old.”

“Of course not. But there might be a spell or potion that puts the victim into a coma or something and prevents them from aging. Everyone knows how powerful Riddle was. I bet we could claim Riddle invented such a spell, and a lot of people would believe us.”

Regulus snorts.

“I wouldn’t believe a story like that, and that means many others wouldn’t either.” Harry opens his mouth to protest, but Regulus holds up a hand, showing that he isn’t finished yet. “But I do think it is worth looking into. If we manage to find a long-forgotten spell or potion with the effects you described, I will not have to hide anymore. And since I don’t have any obligations right now, I might as well spend most of my time researching.” Regulus glances at Harry. “I saw that you have a couple of Dark Arts books lying around, but it’s unlikely that we will find anything useful in one of them.”

Harry nods. He knows which books Regulus must be talking about. He bought them for his work as an Unspeakable. Most of them focus on the theory behind Dark magic rather than specific spells and potions, though, so they aren’t very useful in this case.

“I agree. I’ll buy some new books as soon as I can.” Harry bites his lips. “I wish I could ask Hermione for help. She’s a lot better at researching than I am. But I don’t think that’s a good idea. She would ask too many questions.”

Regulus frowns.

“Hermione… Granger, right?” When Harry gives Regulus a surprised look, Regulus adds, “Skeeter mentions her a lot in her book about you.”

Oh. Right. Harry shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think about Rita Skeeter of all people right now.

“Speaking of Hermione,” Harry says, trying to steer the conversation away from authors who should mind their own business. “I don’t have a lot of friends who come over unannounced. Hermione and her husband, Ron Weasley, are the only exception, really. They usually drop by once a week, at the very least. And while I’m convinced they would keep your existence a secret if I asked them to, I can’t expect you to trust them. So… just think about what you want to do when they come over, whether or not you prefer to stay out of their sight.”

Regulus frowns and sips at his wine. “What do your friends know about me?”

Harry shrugs. “The same things I knew about you before you fell out of the veil. That you were a Death Eater who turned his back on Riddle and tried to destroy one of his Horcruxes. They have no more reason to distrust you than I have.”

“I don’t know about that. Some people are more forgiving than others.”

Harry hesitates. He can understand Regulus’ reluctance to trust people he doesn’t know. It’s only natural that he’s careful, given his difficult situation. And since it’s not important for Regulus to meet Ron and Hermione any time soon, Harry won’t waste his time trying to convince Regulus that his friends won’t hurt him.

Harry sighs. “Just… think about it, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”

When Regulus doesn’t answer, Harry picks up his fork and continues eating. Now that he got that off his chest, he can think about the letter he will have to write after dinner.

If everything goes as planned, Harry will have some of Regulus’ possessions back pretty soon.

Chapter Text

For once, Harry enters the Leaky Cauldron looking like himself. It feels strange and unfamiliar, but it can’t be helped.

After taking a quick look around, Harry finds the woman he’s looking for and walks up to her, ignoring the people glancing at him.

When he sits down across from her, she raises her head and looks at him curiously. “It’s so good to see you again, Mr. Potter. It seemed like you had disappeared from the face of the earth lately.”

Harry suppresses a sigh. Of course, she wants to know what he has been up to. She’s not even trying to be subtle.

“Hello, Mrs. Skeeter,” Harry says and raises privacy charms around them. A middle-aged wizard who sits at the table beside them sighs disappointedly, and Harry grinds his teeth.

That’s exactly why he doesn’t like walking around as himself. He just wants to be left alone. Is that too much to ask for?

Skeeter clears her throat. “Why did you want to meet me here? Your letter was painfully vague.”

“You are still writing for the Prophet, right?”

Skeeter has the nerve to look offended.

“Of course, I still write for the Prophet! Where have you been that you have to ask that question?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Skeeter can ask as many questions as she wants. Harry isn’t stupid enough to tell her anything she could turn into a headline.

Well. At least not a headline he doesn’t approve of…

“I’ve got a story for you.”

Immediately, Skeeter sits up straighter and licks her lips.

“I’m surprised you want me to write about you,” Skeeter says, looking torn between eagerness and caution. “I still remember the passive-aggressive letter you send me after I publi-”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Harry interrupts her, feeling embarrassed. Looking back, it had been a bit childish to threaten Skeeter just because he hated the book she wrote about him. Especially since the book hadn’t been filled with lies, for once. “The story I got for you isn’t about me. At least not directly.”

And just like that, most of Skeeter’s excitement turns into thin air. “Oh. So what’s the story about, then, if not you?”

Harry straightens his back. This is where he needs to be careful what he says.

“One of my friends is interested in the Black heirlooms. I want to spread the message that I’m willing to buy those heirlooms back from whoever owns them right now.”

Skeeter nods. “Okay. And what’s the story?”

“I just told you.”

Skeeter stares at him blankly. “That’s your story? I’m sorry, but there is no way the Prophet will print that. Well, it might work if you put it in the add section-”

“No one looks at the add section! You need to write an article that people will actually read.”

Skeeter throws her hands up. “Then you need to give me more than that! Tell me something people will be interested in, something you haven’t talked about in public yet. For example, who this mysterious friend is you mentioned, the one who wants to get his hands on the Black heirlooms.”

Harry grimaces. As much as he hates to admit it, Skeeter has a point. It’s stupid to assume that the Prophet prints everything Skeeter gives them. Harry bites his lips. What can he reveal that isn’t too personal and is still connected to the Black heirlooms in some way? There must be something.

And then it hits him. Of course.

“I think… I think I got something your readers might want to read.”

“Really? What is it?”

Harry hesitates. Does he really want to do this? He hates using his fame to get what he wants. But he had already accepted that he would be doing that, to a certain degree, when he contacted Skeeter, didn’t he? And what he is about to tell Skeeter isn’t any more personal than the stuff Skeeter already shared in her book, so it’s not a big deal.

He might receive a couple of Howlers for his honesty, but he can live with that.

Chapter Text

Half an hour after the Daily Prophet arrived, something taps against the kitchen window.

“Huh,” Harry says, looking at the owl carrying a red letter between its talons. “People are faster than I thought.”

Regulus glances at the window while Harry stands up to let the owl in. “Why are you getting a Howler?”

“You’ll see. Well. Technically, you’ll hear, not see.”

Harry takes the letter, and the owl flies away without waiting for a treat. Shrugging, Harry sits down at the table and opens the Howler, which immediately starts screaming.

“Traitor! How could you? You are turning your back on everything you stand for! Soon you will say Dark Magic should be legal! There is nothing valuable about pure-blood heirlooms! You should stay as far away from that friend of yours as you can! He obviously has a terrible influence on you! Deep down, you must know you have changed for the worse!”

Harry rolls his eyes and bites into his toast. He had known he would anger some people by publishing that article. Still, it never ceases to fascinate Harry how quickly certain people turn against him.

“And how dare you use your dead godfather to achieve your goals? It’s pathetic! I bet Sirius Black is turning over in his grave!”

Harry clenches his fist. He can deal with people thinking badly of him. He’s used to that. But dragging Sirius into it is going too far. It’s not even like he told Skeeter anything Sirius would be ashamed of. He only explained to her why Sirius had been innocent and a bit about what happened the day he died. Some of that had already been public knowledge, of course, because of Skeeter’s book, but Harry had never shared his thoughts on it publicly before.

Harry listens to the Howler with half an ear, wondering when the next one will arrive. It’s been almost two years since Harry spoke up about something in the press, so it’s bound to get some attention.

Eventually, the Howler stops screaming, and Harry rubs his ears. Why do they need to be so loud, anyway? It’s not like it will get the message across more clearly.

“Potter.” Harry glances at Regulus and finds him sitting rigidly in his chair, the book about ancient curses he had been reading in closed and pushed aside. “What was that?”

“A Howler.” Regulus just stares at him, and Harry sighs. “Fine.” Harry pushes the Prophet in Regulus’ direction. “I told you that I would try to get some of your possessions back, right? Look at page five. That should answer all questions you might have.”

Regulus frowns and opens the Prophet. While he’s reading, another owl pokes against the window. Harry shakes his head and stands up to get the second letter. It amazes him that some people seem to have nothing better to do than write Howlers before going to work.

When Harry opens the second Howler, Regulus looks up from the Prophet for a second and then keeps reading the article. For a while, all that can be heard is the voice of an angry woman, complaining what a disappointment Harry is and that he wouldn’t have turned out this way if he had become an Auror.

The Howler is still screaming when Regulus closes the Prophet and locks eyes with Harry.

As soon as the Howler turns into ashes, Regulus opens his mouth.

“That was your plan? To tell the public that you want to buy the Black heirlooms back?”

“Yes. I’m pretty sure it will work. I don’t often talk to the press, and when I do, people tend to notice.” Harry gestures towards the two piles of ashes the Howlers left behind. “That I received Howlers so soon after the article was published proves my point.”

“I can’t believe you did this for me. You hate being in the public’s eye.”

Harry shrugs. “Sure, I don’t like it, but it’s not the end of the world. I’ve been through much worse.”

Regulus looks conflicted. “You should have told me what you intended to do.”

Harry blinks. It almost sounds like Regulus wishes Harry hadn’t met with Skeeter, but that can’t be true. Unlike Sirius, Regulus liked how Grimmauld Place was before it became the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

“Why? Would you have tried to stop me?”

Regulus hesitates. “Not necessarily. But if you had told me your plan, we could have looked for a better alternative together. Something that wouldn’t have resulted in you getting a dozen Howlers.”

“I’ve only gotten two.”

“Yes, so far. You know you will get more.”

Harry frowns. He still doesn’t get what Regulus’ problem is. “Why do you care? It’s not that big of a deal. Howlers can’t hurt me, no matter how many I get. Why can’t you just be happy that you will probably get some of your family’s possessions back pretty soon?”

Regulus folds his arms, looking unsatisfied. “Look. I’m not trying to be ungrateful. Most people wouldn’t put so much effort into helping someone they met less than a week ago, and I appreciate that.

“But before you do something like this again, I want you to talk with me about it first. I’m sure you would want me to do the same if our situations were reversed.”

Harry opens his mouth, only to hesitate and close it again. Regulus is right. He doesn’t like the thought of Regulus getting Howlers for Harry’s sake, either. And it’s not like Regulus is asking him never to help him again. He just wants the chance to be involved in the decision-making, which is only fair. Harry nods slowly.

“All right, I will. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Later the same day, the wards on Grimmauld place warn him that two people just opened the front door and stepped into his house. Frowning, Harry leaves his room and walks down the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

He knew Ron and Hermione would show up eventually, if not today, then tomorrow at the very latest. They are both so busy that they probably didn’t read the article when the Prophet arrived, but Harry had been sure that at least one of their colleagues would ask one of them about it.

Still, normally they don’t just walk in like they own the place.

Ron and Hermione are waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, Ron with his arms folded and a frown on his face and Hermione biting her lips, looking uncertain.

“You could have knocked, you know?”

“Since when are you interested in Dark magic and artifacts?” Ron asks, completely ignoring Harry’s comment.

Harry narrows his eyes. “I’m not, and you know that. I mean, you have read the article before coming here, right?”

“We know the article must contain at least a couple of half-truths. I mean, Rita Skeeter wrote it,” Ron says like that explains everything. And it would have if they were still fourth-years at Hogwarts. But they aren’t, and since Ron read Skeeter’s book, which didn’t include a single lie, he should know better.

Harry raises his eyebrows. “If you think the article is full of lies, why do you believe the part about me wanting the Black heirlooms back?”

Ron frowns, looking uncertain for the first time. “Well… You have been kind of distant lately. And we have seen your Dark Arts books, Harry. You don’t even try to hide them.”

Harry stares at Ron, feeling anger rising in his stomach. Is that all Ron needs to think Harry is going down a dark path?

“I need those books for my work as an Unspeakable! If you only came here to complain that I’ve changed, then-”

“That’s not why we came here,” Hermione interrupts him. “Harry, we are worried about you. I’ve never heard that Unspeakables need to know anything about Dark magic before.”

“Of course, you haven’t. Unspeakables aren’t allowed to talk about what they do at work, remember? I will get fired if anyone finds out I told you that.” Harry shakes his head. “You don’t need to worry about me. Everything is fine, I promise.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have let Skeeter publish an article like that. Unless…” Hermione bites her lips, and a hopeful tone enters her voice. “Unless Skeeter published that article against your will?”

Harry feels like laughing. Ron and Hermione are making an even bigger deal out of this than Regulus did, though for different reasons.

Why does everyone around me think they know what I should and shouldn’t do? It’s annoying.

“No, Skeeter didn’t publish that article against my will. She wrote exactly what I asked her to.”

Hermione hesitates. “So you don’t want those items back for yourself…? Who is that friend Skeeter mentioned, then?”

“That would be me.”

Harry flinches and turns around to see Regulus leaning in the kitchen door. He didn’t hear him coming up behind him at all. Have I already become so used to his presence? Or did I not hear him because I let my guard down?

Harry hesitates for a second. Then he steps a bit to the side so that he can keep an eye on Ron, Hermione, and Regulus at the same time.

“And who are you?” Ron asks, blinking.

Regulus’ eyes flicker towards Harry, and he raises an eyebrow questioningly. Harry shrugs. Regulus has to decide for himself if he wants Ron and Hermione to know who he is.

“They won’t betray me, right?” Regulus asks. Apparently, Harry’s shrug didn’t reassure him enough.

Harry glances at his friends briefly. They might have a small disagreement right now, but Harry thinks they will still listen to reason.

“No, they won’t.”

“What?” Ron asks, confused. “Harry, what the hell are you talking about? How can we betray this guy if we don’t even know him?”

“Do you want to tell them, or shall I?” Harry asks Regulus.

Regulus inclines his head. “I think they need to hear it from you.”

“Fine,” Harry says and looks at Ron and Hermione, who return his gaze with a mixture of confusion and impatience on their faces. “Ron. Hermione. I know it’s hard to believe, but this is Regulus Black, Sirius’ brother.”

For a few long seconds, Ron and Hermione just stare at Regulus uncomprehendingly. Then, Ron shakes his head.

“No, he isn’t. Regulus Black is dead.”

“Ron,” Hermione whispers and pulls on her husband’s sleeve. “Look at his eyes, his hair, his face. He might not be Sirius’ brother, but he’s definitely related to him.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.” Ron’s eyes are fixed on Regulus while his hand disappears inside his robe.

Harry tenses.

“Ron,” Harry says as calmly as he can. “He isn’t dangerous. I promise.”

“Really,” Ron sneers. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees that Regulus’ hand has disappeared inside his robe as well. Ron and Regulus stare at each other, looking like they are a second away from drawing their wands. They remind Harry of two cowboys he once saw on TV, both of them ready to shoot but hesitating because the other might be faster.

The air feels thick with tension.

“Ron,” Harry tries once again. “Please don’t do anything stupid. Regulus isn’t dangerous. He has been living with me for almost a week and hasn’t tried to hurt me even once.”

Ron's eyes widen, and then they twitch like he wants to glance at Harry but isn't willing to look away from Regulus for even a slip second.

“What? You let a stranger live in your house for a week? Why?”

“Because there wasn’t an alternative!” Harry responds impatiently. “Regulus doesn’t have a house or money, and everyone thinks he’s dead. Would you have left him on the streets in muggle-London, or what?”

“Harry,” Hermione whispers.

Harry turns his head to look at her after giving Ron one last angry look. Hopefully, Harry can pull Hermione onto his side before the situation escalates. Some of the tension leaves his body when he sees that Hermione’s hands aren’t in her robe, which means she isn’t gripping her wand.

“Harry, this isn’t like you. You wouldn’t keep something like this from us. How can you be sure that this man is Sirius' brother, that he isn’t lying to you or messing with your mind somehow?”

For a moment, Harry is at a loss for words. How come I’m the only reasonable person in the room right now? Well. Apart from Regulus, maybe. He hasn’t said anything stupid yet.

“Excuse me? Do you really think that I can’t protect myself against a single, former Death Eater who didn’t even have a wand in the first twenty-four hours he was back? And in case you forgot, this isn’t the first time I’ve kept something from you. Have you forgotten the blood quill? Or that Ginny and I didn’t tell anyone we broke up for a whole month?”

Hermione frowns. She doesn’t look convinced, but at least she seems to be thinking about his words.

“This is different,” Ron says, his gaze still fixed on Regulus. “If this man is really Sirius’ brother, there are only two possibilities. Either he didn’t die like Kreacher claimed and had some sinister reason to stay hidden for so long, or he did die and managed to come back because he made a -”

“He didn’t make a Horcrux!” Harry interrupts impatiently.

“You can’t know that!”

That statement is the last straw. Ron isn’t listening to him at all. Harry draws his wand and swings it three times.

Three wands fly towards him, and Harry catches them with his left hand. It probably only works because Ron and Regulus were completely focused on each other, and Hermione didn’t expect Harry to raise his wand against her.

“Harry!” Ron cries, alarmed. “What are you doing?”

Harry locks eyes with Ron, and his best friend flinches and takes a small step back.

“We will go into the living room now and have a civil discussion. I will give you your wands back as soon as I’m convinced you won’t hurt each other. Is that clear?”

Ron grimaces. “Harry, mate, this is really not necessary-”

“Is that clear?” Harry repeats.

Harry looks back and forth between Ron, Hermione, and Regulus until all of them have nodded, more or less reluctantly. Only then, Harry allows himself to relax.

What a mess, Harry thinks as he follows his friends into the living room.

Chapter Text

“What I am about to tell you will have to stay between us at all costs,” Harry says once they sit down in the living room.

Ron narrows his eyes. “Why?”

Harry takes a deep breath. “Because I will tell you a bit about what I do as an Unspeakable. If anyone finds out I broke my silence, I could end up in Azkaban.”

Harry watches as Ron and Hermione exchange a look. They both look apprehensive, but there is also a strange glint in their eyes. They can’t help but be curious.

“Alright,” Hermione says. “We promise to keep our mouths shut.”

Harry glances at Ron and raises his eyebrows. Yes, they are married, but that doesn’t mean Hermione can speak for both of them.

Ron clears his throat. “Yeah. What Hermione said.”

“Good,” Harry says, wondering how he should approach the subject. Just saying Regulus fell out of the veil won’t be enough to satisfy them. “I have been studying the veil in the Death Chamber lately. You know, the magical object Sirius fell through? Believe it or not, not even Unspeakables know exactly how it works. It is unknown, for example, what happens to objects and people that come into contact with it. They just… disappear.

“Anyway, I’ve been looking for a way to get Sirius’ body back for a while now. A theory claims it should be possible to retrieve someone if you are emotionally connected to the person who disappeared behind the veil. About a week ago, I tried to prove the theory, and Regulus fell out of the veil. Alive and unharmed. I can’t explain how or why that happened.”

Just as Harry expected, Ron and Hermione don’t seem to know how to respond. Ron opens his mouth multiple times without saying anything, and Hermione stares into thin air, apparently lost in thought.

“What exactly does that mean?” Hermione asks, eventually. She sounds hesitant, careful. Harry can’t exactly blame her for that. “I mean… You can’t have brought someone back from the dead, right? It’s impossible.”

Harry shrugs. “Apparently, it isn’t. I told you I can’t explain it either.”

Hermione opens her mouth, probably to protest, but Ron is faster. “But how do you know this is Sirius’ brother? I mean, he didn’t even die anywhere near the veil, right? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Not this again. This is hardly the most important thing right now.

Regulus leans forward and looks Ron in the eye. “There are pictures of me in my room, Weasley, and Kreacher recognizes me. If that doesn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”

Ron mutters something, too quiet for Harry to understand, and folds his arms. To Regulus, it probably looks like Ron isn’t convinced yet, but Harry knows him well enough to know better. Ron just doesn’t want to admit how unlikely it is that Regulus isn’t who he claims he is.

“Why didn’t you tell us what happened sooner?” Hermione asks. “Why did you wait a whole week?”

“Because it’s Regulus’ decision who he tells about it. It could have horrible consequences if the wrong people find out he’s alive. I mean, both of you reacted pretty badly, and you are supposed to trust me.”

Hermione blushes, but the embarrassment doesn’t seem to be strong enough for her to back down. She raises her chin. “You told us you have been living with a former Death Eater, Harry. What would you have done in our situation?”

“I would have asked questions before jumping to conclusions.”

“I don’t think that’s true. We both know how hot-headed you can be.”

“Yeah,” Ron agrees. “And I’m still not convinced Regulus isn’t dangerous.” Well, at least he doesn’t question Regulus’ identity anymore. That’s something. “He was a Death Eater. How can you be sure he won’t hurt you?”

“I can’t,” Harry admits. “Just like I can’t be sure you won’t hurt me, Ron.”

Ron’s face darkens. “That’s hardly the same.”

“Maybe. But Regulus has no reason to harm me, Ron. Quite the opposite, actually. Without me, he’d be in a very vulnerable situation right now. And I don’t think his Death Eater past matters anymore. He turns against Voldemort and tried to destroy the locket, remember?” Harry pauses for a moment to let his words sink in. “And I know how to protect myself, Ron, even if I’m not an Auror, like you.”

Ron frowns and leans back in his chair. He looks unsatisfied, but at least he doesn’t appear to be half as tense as he was a couple of minutes ago.

“So,” Harry says and claps his hands. “Do you have any more questions or reasons why you think I can’t take care of myself?”

“We know you can take care of yourself,” Hermione says impatiently. “We were just-”

“Worried about me. I know.”

Harry smiles. Ron and Hermione care enough about him to want to protect him, and he can be grateful for that while still wishing they would take it down a notch.

Hermione smiles back at him, and suddenly Harry knows that everything is fine between them again. He doesn’t need any more explanations or apologies, and Hermione doesn’t either.

Harry glances at Ron. The tight lines on his face and the slightly narrowed eyes tell him everything he needs to know. Ron doesn’t trust Regulus and still thinks he might be dangerous. Harry doubts he will get through to him right here and now, though. Ron has always been more reluctant to admit he overreacted than Hermione.

Harry suppresses a sigh and pulls his friends’ wands out of his robe. “Do all of you promise not to hurt each other if I give them back to you now?”

“Yes,” Hermione and Regulus say almost at once. Ron hesitates for a second. Then he rolls his eyes and nods.

“And do you promise you won’t tell anyone Regulus is alive?”

Ron and Hermione nod, though Ron looks like he doesn’t want to.

“Good,” Harry says and gives his friends their wands back.

“Harry,” Hermione says. She is playing with her wand, something he has never seen her do before. It immediately puts Harry on edge. “Do you think you could bring anyone else back from the dead? Or was that a once-in-a-lifetime kind of situation?”

Harry hesitates. “I’m not sure. I told you, I don’t know why Regulus fell through the veil. Maybe I could, but I won’t try it again. It’s too dangerous. I don’t know the risks. And…” Harry frowns, not sure how to put his thoughts into words.

“It feels wrong,” Hermione whispers. “Why should you decide who gets to have a second chance and who doesn’t? No one should have that kind of power.”

Harry exhales slowly. “Exactly.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.” Hermione stands up. “We should go, Ron.”

Ron blinks. “What? Now?”

“Yes. Come on.”

Ron frowns but doesn’t protest. Regulus stays behind while Harry accompanies his friends to the door.

“Wait,” Harry says when Hermione opens the door. “I almost forgot to ask you something.”

Harry tells Ron and Hermione that they are looking for a spell or potion that explains why Regulus hasn’t aged at all.

“I know how busy you are, but if you stumble over something that could be useful, please send me an owl.”

As expected, Ron doesn’t look very enthusiastic, but Hermione smiles. “Of course, we will.”

Chapter Text

“I’ve figured it out,” Regulus says when Harry steps back into the living room.

Harry frowns. “What have you figured out?”

“Your weakness. Your biggest flaw, whatever you want to call it. I was already beginning to believe you are too good to be true.”

Harry blinks. Too good to be true…? Is he serious?

“And what is my biggest flaw?” Harry asks curiously. He knows what his answer would be: His tendency to try to save other people without considering the possible dangers and ramifications. It had led to Sirius’ death, among other things.

“It’s your friends. You don’t see clearly when it comes to them.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.”

“It means that you love them too much to consider their flaws. You didn’t assume your friends would make such a big deal out of Skeeter’s article, nor did you expect Weasley to almost draw his wand. And you didn’t think it would be so hard to get them to listen to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have told them who I am so nonchalantly.”

Harry grimaces. Everything Regulus said is true, of course. It bothers him that he didn’t predict his friends’ bad reaction. Still, Harry isn’t sure why Regulus sees the need to talk about it. Well, he’s probably just angry that I got him into such an uncomfortable - arguably even dangerous - situation.

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that you think too highly of your friends. You expect them to have your back, always, and never, ever turn against you. That you gave them the power to put you in Azkaban, even though you could have explained what happened some other way, proves my point.”

Harry folds his arms. “And you think it’s a bad thing that I trust my friends unconditionally?”

“Not necessarily, no. You see the best in people. It’s an admirable flaw, that’s for sure.”

Harry shakes his head slowly. “That’s not true. There are quite a lot of people I have nothing but disdain for. Dumbledore saw the best in people, not me.”

Regulus cocks his head and thinks about that for a moment. Harry does his best not to squirm under his scrutiny. “You see the best in Weasley and Granger, at the very least. And in me too, I guess. Most people wouldn’t be able to overlook my Death Eater past as easily as you do.”

Harry frowns. Regulus might have a point. But that still doesn’t explain why he wants to talk about it.

“What’s your point?” Harry repeats.

“You’re fascinating,” Regulus says simply. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

“Fascinating,” Harry deadpans. He’s never been called fascinating before. Admirable and passionate, yes. Even heroic. But never fascinating.

“Yeah, fascinating. And more complex than you seem to be at first glance. It never gets boring around you.”

“I wouldn’t mind a bit boredom now and then,” Harry mutters and rubs his forehead. “It’s hard to turn my mind off and relax sometimes.”

Regulus looks at Harry contemplatively for a couple of seconds. Then he smiles. “I think I can help you with that. Come on.” Regulus extends his hand and waits for Harry to take it. When Harry looks at it skeptically, Regulus rolls his eyes and adds, “I promise you’ll like it. Trust me.”

Harry hesitates for another second, then he sighs and lays his hand into Regulus’, who pulls him through the living room and towards the stairs.

Whatever Regulus has in mind can only be better than talking about his fight with Ron and Hermione.

***

"Take off your shirt."

Harry almost chokes on his own spit and whirls around to stare at Regulus. "Excuse me?"

Regulus grins and raises an eyebrow. "I want to give you a massage. It’ll feel better if there isn't anything between my fingers and your back."

"Oh," Harry says, feeling stupid. Of course, that’s why Regulus said that. There is no other reason why he’d want to see Harry without a shirt. "Why do you want to give me a massage?"

“I said I’d help you relax, didn’t I?”

Harry hesitates. “Yes, but what are you getting out of this? If you want me to return the favor, I’ve got to warn you that I’m not very good at it. My ex-girlfriend always complained that I don’t know how much pressure is too much-”

“I don’t want anything in return. I just want to help you relax, as I said. Is that so hard to believe?”

Harry stares at Regulus, blinking. “Yeah? Kinda?”

Regulus shakes his head, looking amused. “Take off your shirt, Harry, and lay down on the bed. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Harry sighs and raises his hands to open the first button of his shirt. He still doesn’t understand why Regulus wants to do this, but he sees no reason to complain. After Harry opened the last button, he lays the shirt over the back of his chair. Feeling a bit exposed, he hastily climbs onto his bed and lays down on his stomach, turning his head to the side so that he can breathe more freely.

Harry swallows when Regulus climbs onto the bed. For some reason, his mouth is dry all of a sudden.

"Do you mind if I sit on your butt? It’s more comfortable that way."

"Um, sure, go ahead."

"Okay." Harry feels the bed shifting, and a couple of seconds later, he feels himself being pushed deeper into the mattress. He tries not to think about the fact that Regulus’ ass presses against his. Harry already feels awkward enough as it is.

Something touches Harry’s back, and he flinches against his will. Regulus’ hands are a bit cold, though surprisingly smooth.

"Relax, Harry. You won't have to move a single finger for the rest of the day. Close your eyes and let go."

Harry exhales slowly. "Why do you call me by my first name? You’ve never done that before."

The hands draw back, and he hears Regulus muttering a spell. A second later, his hands are back, but this time, they feel even smoother and covered in something wet. Some kind of oil, probably. Harry closes his eyes.

"Do you mind? Me calling you Harry, I mean."

"No. It’s kinda nice, actually," Harry admits.

"Good."

Harry frowns. Regulus still hasn’t answered his question, but he decides to let it go. The hands on his back are making him feel more and more relaxed and sleepy. Moving his mouth to formulate words feels like too much of a bother. Harry shivers when Regulus presses down on a particularly sensitive spot. He hadn't even realized how tense his back had been before.

Soon Harry loses all sense of time and sinks deeper and deeper into the mattress. After god knows how many minutes have passed, Harry feels Regulus shifting on his butt, leaning forward.

"Harry? Are you still awake?" Regulus whispers, and Harry feels something brushing against his ear. Probably Regulus’ lips.

"Yes," Harry mutters sleepily. "Please don't stop just yet."

"I won't. Not until you have fallen asleep."

"I don’t think that will happen anytime soon," Harry warns and yawns.

Regulus chuckles. "I don't care. Seeing you so relaxed is all I need to keep going."

Harry’s sleepy brain doesn’t know how to respond, so he just hums and hopes Regulus will be satisfied with that.

Harry feels Regulus exhaling and his lips brush against Harry’s ear again when he sits back up.

For a moment, Harry wonders why Regulus thought it was necessary to speak directly into his ear. Then he decides that it doesn’t matter and lets himself drift.

***

Somewhere along the line, he must've fallen asleep after all because the next time he opens his eyes, he’s alone, and there’s a blanket over his body. Harry sits up and blinks, wondering how the hell he could have fallen asleep while someone sat on his ass, for god’s sake.

Chapter Text

Three days after Regulus massaged him, Harry is still trying to figure out why Regulus did him that favor. Yes, Regulus said he wanted to help Harry relax, but he can’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t his only motivation.

Harry can’t lie to himself. If Regulus were a girl, Harry wouldn’t have to think about it. He’d assume Regulus had been trying to seduce him. But Regulus isn’t a girl, so there must be some other reason why he wanted to sit on his ass, knead his muscles until Harry fell asleep, and brush his lips against Harry’s ear. Twice. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Right?

It doesn’t help that Regulus acts like nothing out of the ordinary happened, except that Regulus’ gaze seems to linger a little too long on Harry sometimes. It happens especially often when they are both in the living room, bent over Dark Art books.

Harry wonders what about him is so interesting that Regulus keeps looking at him. It can’t be his scar. Regulus knows where his scar came from because of Skeeter’s book, but for some reason, he doesn’t seem interested in it at all. Maybe it’s because he didn’t grow up hearing stories about Harry’s scar, like everyone else his age.

But why else could he be looking at Harry if not for his scar?

You’re fascinating, Harry remembers Regulus saying. And more complex than you seem to be at first glance. It never gets boring around you.

Harry shakes his head and ignores the warm feeling in his belly.

***

About a week after Harry told his friends about Regulus, an owl pokes against the window during breakfast. Harry stands up and lets the owl in, wondering if another person decided to sell the Black heirlooms in their possession. He’s still getting offers like that every other day. Harry already managed to buy a handful of objects back. The relief and gratitude on Regulus’ face had been more gratifying to see than Harry wants to admit.

But as soon as he sees his name on the envelope, he knows the letter isn’t from a potential seller. Harry gives the owl a tread before he opens the envelope.

Dear Harry,

first of all, I want to apologize for the way Ron and I behaved the last time we saw each other. We were out of line. I can see that now. Ron has realized it too, but I couldn’t get him to admit it yet.

Anyway, that’s not why I’m writing this letter. I’ve got some good news for you. I’ll be honest, Harry. I wanted to look for an answer to your problem, but I haven’t found the time yet. Work has been insanely demanding. I’m sure you can relate. But, as it turns out, I didn’t need to do any research. I stumbled over a solution while I was working.

A couple of days ago, an anonymous source reported that a wizard used a long-forgotten curse that turned his house-elf into a toy for the wizard’s grandson. Now, usually, when you turn a living being into an object, they can’t think or feel anything while being an object.

The curse the wizard used works differently, though. When the curse was removed, the house-elf explained that he had been fully aware of himself. He even had access to all of his senses, except his eyesight. So when someone talked near him, he could hear it. When there was a scent around him, he could smell it. He could taste the dust that settled over him and felt pain when the wizard’s grandson kicked him around. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t talk. Couldn’t even sleep to escape the constant boredom.

And do you know what the worst part is? The wizard most likely won’t get more than a twenty Galleon fine! Can you believe that? God, it makes me so mad that house-elves still get treated like objects! It’s barbaric!

Anyway, the next part is why I decided to write this letter: The house-elf didn’t age at all, Harry. Not a single day.

The curse doesn’t work on humans, for all I know, but since Voldemort was such a powerful wizard, I think people will believe he managed to alter the curse to make it fit his needs.

I hope I could help you with that. If you want to know more about the curse, read the Prophet article on page twelve tomorrow. The information in it is accurate.

I hope you’re well, Harry. I’m sorry Ron and I didn’t manage to drop by this week. As I said, work has been brutal. I’ll see you next week.

Love, Hermione

Harry lowers the letter, feeling disgusted and excited at the same time. He sees Regulus looking at him with a concerned frown on his face and smiles reassuringly. At least, that’s what he tries to do. Since Regulus’ face darkens, it can’t look very convincing.

“What’s wrong? Is someone threatening you?”

Harry sighs. “No. I’m just disgusted with how some people tread their house-elves. Here.” Harry shoves the letter in Regulus’ directing. “Read this. Hermione found a solution to our problem.”

Harry waits patiently while Regulus’ eyes flicker over the parchment. When he finally looks up, Harry sees the same disgust and excitement written all over Regulus’ face.

“Some people don’t deserve their house-elves.”

Harry nods. “I agree.”

He tries to imagine what it must be like to be turned into an object, unable to move and sleep. The thought of being alone with your thoughts twenty-four hours a day terrifies him. He’d lose his mind if he had to go through that.

Harry shakes his head. As disturbing as the curse is, that’s not why he showed Regulus the letter. “Well? Do you think we can use this curse as an explanation?”

Regulus furrows his brow and thinks about it for a couple of seconds. “Yes, probably.”

“Great! Then I’ll write a letter to Skeeter and ask her to meet me again-”

“Not so fast, Harry. We have to figure out what exactly we want to tell Skeeter first. Just telling her that the Dark Lord used this curse on me won’t be enough. She will want to hear details, like why the Dark Lord cursed me instead of killing me. We don’t want to be caught in a lie, do we?”

Harry grimaces. Regulus is right, of course.

“I’m not particularly good at lying and deceiving,” he admits.

Regulus glances at Harry’s right hand that lies on the kitchen table. Harry tenses and turns his hand around so that the scar Umbridge forced upon him isn’t visible anymore.

Something flickers over Regulus’ face, but it’s gone before Harry can figure out whether it’s annoyance or… something else.

“Don’t worry about that,” Regulus says. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out that is so close to the truth you won’t have to lie a lot.”

Chapter Text

“So this is where you live?” Skeeter asks and looks around.

Harry grinds his teeth. Regulus and Harry had decided that it would be better to meet with Skeeter in private, but that doesn’t mean that Harry likes having her in his house. “Yes, but don’t waste your time looking around. I won’t allow you to mention how my house looks like in any of your articles or books. Understood?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Harry takes a deep breath and tells himself that it doesn’t matter how nonchalant Skeeter’s answer sounds like. If Skeeter ignores his wishes, she will regret it, and she knows that.

“I’m surprised you wanted to see me so shortly after our last meeting. I suppose you have a new story for me?”

“Yes. And this time, it’s a story that actually deserves to be told.”

“Is that so?”

Harry sees Skeeter glancing at Regulus curiously, now that she inspected every last corner of the room. She hasn’t asked who he is and what he’s doing here yet, but Harry supposes it is just a matter of time before she does.

“Yes. Do you remember the Prophet article about the mistreated house-elf that got published a couple of days ago?”

Skeeter purses her lips and nods. Harry suppresses a grin. It’s kind of funny that Skeeter doesn’t like talking about articles other people wrote. He’ll keep that in mind. It might come in handy one day.

“When I found out that such a curse exists, I checked every object in my house, looking for signs that something might be a transfigured house-elf. As you may know, this house belonged to the Blacks, and they were prone to using Dark Magic. And, after a couple of hours, I did find an object that was clearly a living being.”

Skeeter’s eyes widen, and she stops taking notes on her parchment to stare at Harry. “You found a transfigured house-elf?”

Harry shakes his head. “No. I found a transfigured wizard.”

Skeeter’s eyes get so big that she reminds Harry of Dobby for a moment. Harry ignores the pain in his chest and watches as Skeeter’s surprise turns into confusion.

“The curse doesn’t work on humans.”

Harry expected that objection, of course, and has already thought of an answer in advance. “Yes, that’s what confused me at first, too. But, as I found out since then, it was Voldemort who cast the curse. He must have found a way to make it work on humans as well, but I have no clue how he did that.”

Regulus had assured him that they wouldn’t need to have an answer for everything. It might even look suspicious if they could explain everything perfectly. Regulus’ argumentation had made sense to Harry, so he had decided to trust Regulus in that regard.

Skeeter’s eyes flicker towards Regulus. “And I suppose you are the wizard Mr. Potter found?”

“Yes.”

Skeeter looks at Regulus critically and cocks her head. “How do I know you two aren’t lying to me? Everyone can claim that they were cursed and turned into an object. That doesn’t mean it actually happened.”

Harry blinks. He didn’t think Skeeter would try to figure out whether they were telling the truth or not. He thought she wouldn’t care about that as long as she got a good story she could sell. Then he realizes that she probably just doesn’t want to print anything people won’t believe. She could lose her credibility that way - whatever is left of it, anyway.

Regulus clears his throat. “I was trapped for over twenty years. You can find pictures of me in which I look exactly like I do now that were taken decades ago.”

Skeeter looks at Regulus for a long moment. “Fair enough. May I ask what your name is?”

Regulus doesn’t hesitate. “Regulus Black.”

Harry tenses. Since it isn’t public knowledge that Regulus was a Death Eater, they probably won’t have to convince Skeeter that Regulus isn’t dangerous. But you can never know.

Luckily, Skeeter shows no sign of fear or caution.

“Regulus Black? Sirius Black’s brother?” Skeeter turns her head to look at Harry. “So he’s the reason why you sought me out in the first place? The reason why you want those heirlooms back?”

“Yes.”

Skeeter frowns, and he can already guess what her next objection will be.

“But the article about the cursed house-elf appeared after you wrote me.”

Harry smiles slightly. No one can claim that Skeeter is bad at finding inconsistencies.

“Yes, that’s true, but if you read the article closely, you will know that the incident happened a month ago. The Prophet just couldn’t talk about it before since it was still considered confidential information. But I already knew about it sooner because I’ve got connections in the ministry.”

Skeeter purses her lips again, and Harry can see the moment she decides the explanation is good enough.

“Why did He-who-must-not-be-named put that curse on you?” Skeeter asks Regulus.

Harry knows what Regulus will say, and so he leans back and listens to the story they had agreed on.

“I found out You-know-who had turned Slytherin’s locket into a Horcrux and tried to get my hands on it. Unfortunately, I didn’t sense the curse You-know-who had placed on it. So the moment I touched the Horcrux, my consciousness was pushed into a copy of the locket I had brought with me. I had intended to leave the copy behind in case You-know-who ever decided to check on his Horcrux. I didn’t want him to know the locket had been taken.

“When Harry freed me from my prison, he told me that my house-elf, who I had brought along with me, had taken the Horcrux and laid the fake locket at the place where the real Horcrux had been. Harry found the fake locket when he was looking for the Horcrux and took me with him.”

Harry knows Regulus isn’t telling the truth, but he still shudders. He can’t even put into words how glad he is that it didn’t actually happen that way.

“Why didn’t He-who-must-not-be-named put the curse on all of his Horcruxes?” Skeeter asks after she wrote everything Regulus said down.

“We don’t know for sure. But Harry told me You-know-who put a different curse on another Horcrux that almost killed Dumbledore when he touched it and left him with a rotting hand. He could have put that curse on all of his Horcruxes as well, but he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t have the strength to protect all six Horcruxes with such powerful curses, or maybe he wanted to vary the protections he put on his Horcruxes. Who knows?”

Skeeter nods slowly. “And you - I mean, the locket you were turned into - were in Mr. Potter’s possession for how long?”

“Around four years. That’s what Harry told me, at least. I didn’t have any sense of time while I was under the curse.”

“Fascinating,” Skeeter says, licking her lips. “And did you ever hear or sense anything... interesting about Mr. Potter? Something you want to share?”

Harry sneers. “I didn’t ask you to come here so you could pester Regulus with stupid, irrelevant questions. Stay on topic. It’s not that hard.”

Skeeter narrows her eyes. For the first time today, she looks genuinely angry. “My success as a reporter doesn’t depend on whatever stories you can provide me with, Mr. Potter. I can and will walk out of here if you keep talking to me like this.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “As if you would pass up on an opportunity like this.”

Skeeter folds the parchment on which she took notes throughout their conversation and, for all intents and purposes, looks like she is getting ready to leave.

Harry sighs and adds, “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. It won’t happen again.”

“Apology accepted,” Skeeter says tightly, her fingernails digging into the parchment.

“Good. Now, do you have any more follow-up questions, or do you think you have everything you need?”

Chapter Text

Shortly after the Prophet article gets published, the tentative routine Regulus and Harry had been following changes significantly. They are still having breakfast and dinner together, but apart from that, they don’t spend much time in each other’s company anymore. Regulus looks distracted, seemingly writing letters all the time, and he’s pretty sure Regulus leaves the house for hours on end while Harry is at work.

Harry is happy for him. Regulus deserves to have a life outside of Grimmauld Place and probably longs to reconnect with the few friends and distant family members he has left.

Everything seems to work out just fine. So why does it feel like he is losing something important? Why does he miss the quiet evenings he spent with Regulus bend over Dark Arts books so much? Harry isn’t like Hermione. He usually doesn’t get much joy out of researching. What he likes most about it is the moment he finds what he was looking for, not the process itself. It doesn’t make any sense that part of him wishes they hadn’t found a solution to Regulus’ problem so quickly.

I’ve gotten too used to his presence, Harry realizes when Regulus excuses himself once more after dinner. I’ll stop feeling so lonely eventually, just like I did after Ginny and I broke up.

That thought gives him some pause. Did he really just compare Regulus distancing himself to his break-up with Ginny? Why? Those two things are entirely different. Right? Unless... Unless…

No. That’s ridiculous.

But no matter how ridiculous the thought is, it never entirely leaves Harry in the next couple of days. Harry can’t admit, even to himself, that his mind made the connection to his break-up with Ginny for a reason. Because if he did, what would that mean, moving forward? What would it mean if he acknowledges that he has thought about Regulus’ lips brushing against his ear more often than he can count?

He isn’t even sure if Regulus was really trying to seduce him the day he had that fight with Ron and Hermione. And the time to do anything about it is long over, anyway. Nowadays, it almost feels like Regulus and Harry are strangers who happen to live in the same house. Whatever there might have been between them at one point is long gone. So it’s stupid to keep thinking about it.

And then, one day, when Harry comes home from work, he sees Regulus waiting for him, smiling, and all the thoughts and confusion that had been plaguing him turn into thin air.

“Hey. Do you have a minute?”

“Of course.”

He follows Regulus into the living room, and they sit down across from each other. “I want to thank you for everything you did for me, Harry. You have been insanely supportive from start to finish.”

Harry rubs his neck, feeling embarrassed. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, but it looks more fond than exasperated. “Yes, I do. And I want to celebrate my newfound freedom with you. Are you free tomorrow evening?”

“Yes.” Harry hesitates for a second and then adds, “What do you have in mind?”

“You’ll see. Don’t worry, I’m not planning anything big, and I’ll make sure you won’t get bored.”

Harry nods slowly. Regulus knows him good enough that he won’t drag him to some fancy Ministry gala or something, so it should be fine. “Okay.”

“Good.” Regulus pulls a couple of Galleons and Sickles out of his robe and lays them onto the table. “I’m also finally able to pay you back for the wand you bought me.”

Harry stares at the coins. Then he raises his eyes and frowns.

“Where did you get this money from?”

Regulus considers him for a moment. “You might not like the answer. Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes!”

“Alright. I wrote some letters to certain… friends of mine and reminded them of the debts they owe me. They gladly paid me back immediately.”

Harry blinks. “You blackmailed some of your former Death Eater colleagues.”

“Yes,” Regulus says, shrugging. “It’s not like they don’t deserve it. Now I have enough money to last me quite a while.”

Harry bites his lips. As much as he can’t stand most former Death Eaters, he also doesn’t condone blackmail. “If you needed money that badly, you could have just asked-”

“I don’t want your money, Harry. The money of my enemies, though? Yeah, I’ll take that any day.”

“They will despise you for blackmailing them. Do you really think that was such a good idea?”

“They’ll despise me anyway because I’m close to you.”

That, of course, does nothing to calm Harry’s nerves. Regulus sighs.

“Relax, Harry. I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to worry about me, trust me.”

Harry blushes at the word relax, remembering pressure against his butt and lips against his ear.

Hoping Regulus doesn’t notice his red cheeks, or at least doesn’t guess the reason for them, Harry hastily says, “Fine, whatever. But you can always ask me for help if you happen to run into trouble after all.”

Regulus chuckles and looks at him in a way that sends a shiver down Harry’s spine. “I appreciate it, but I can assure you that won’t be necessary.”

Chapter Text

“Well? Do you like it here?”

Harry has the impression that Regulus wanted to ask that question ever since they arrived at the restaurant, but, for some reason, he had waited until the waiter brought their beverages.

Harry blinks and looks around. The restaurant doesn’t look different from the ones he is used to. There are tables and chairs and decor and people sitting together, talking with each other, just like in any other restaurant. So far, Harry has only noticed two major differences. No one stares at him, even though he didn’t alter his appearance, and the food and beverages get carried to the tables by waiters instead of appearing out of nowhere.

No, their surroundings aren’t particularly intriguing. That Regulus brought him to a Muggle restaurant is, though.

“It’s nice. It feels good not to get stared at.” Harry sips at his glass and savors the taste of his coke. After he swallowed, he adds, “But I already suspected that we would end up in a place like this when we left Grimmauld Place.”

Regulus smirks. “Really. What gave it away?”

Harry rolls his eyes and looks meaningfully at Regulus’ dark green shirt.

“How do you even know how to dress like a Muggle?” Harry asks, glad that Regulus had raised a privacy charm around them as soon as they sat down. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to use the word Muggle. “Most people who didn’t grow up around Muggles choose such ridiculous combinations that they draw more attention than they would if they wore what they usually do.”

“I asked Andromeda for advice. I picked this place so you could walk around as yourself without people bothering you. If I had chosen inappropriate clothing, that wouldn’t have worked.”

Harry blinks. “You’ve met with Andromeda?”

So Regulus hadn’t just left Grimmauld Place to blackmail former Death Eaters? That’s a relief. Still, it’s a bit surprising. Andromeda had cut ties with her family after she married Ted Tonks. Harry doubts Regulus and Andromeda had much - if any - contact during Regulus’ childhood and youth.

“She’s one of the few family members I have left. Of course, I reached out to her. Besides, she said she would have contacted me eventually, anyway. Apparently, she likes to know what company the godfather of her grandchild keeps.”

Harry smiles. Yeah, that sounds like Andromeda. She can be a bit overprotected of Teddy, which is understandable, of course. After all, she lost her husband and daughter during the war.

“I’m just surprised. I didn’t think you’d be the kind of guy who would want to mingle with Muggles.”

Regulus sips at his wine, looking lost in thought. It looks like he won’t respond for a while, but then he opens his mouth, after all.

“What my parents taught me didn’t get me anywhere good. I’m willing to expand my horizon, little by little. Besides, I told you I wanted to go somewhere where you would feel comfortable and wouldn’t have to hide. There aren’t any places in the wizarding part of Britain that meet those criteria.”

Harry frowns. “But we’re celebrating your freedom, not mine. I wouldn’t have minded a couple of stares.”

“But I would have. You already draw enough attention on your own, but with me on your side, so shortly after the article was published… I don’t think we would have had even a minute of privacy.”

Harry sighs. “You’re probably right. You know, it’s kind of strange that I never thought of going to a Muggle restaurant before, now that I think about it…”

Whenever his friends had convinced him to go out with them, he had usually relied on magic to give him some privacy. That wouldn’t have been necessary if they had chosen Muggle restaurants.

“Wait. Are you saying that you’ve never been to a Muggle restaurant? But you grew up with Muggles!”

Harry smiles faintly. Luckily, there hadn’t been anything about his relationship to the Durselys in Skeeter’s book. She probably hadn’t found anyone willing to tell her anything about it.

“Yes, but we didn’t exactly have the best relationship. My relatives hated magic. I think they were afraid of me and were frightened that they wouldn’t be able to stop me if I decided to curse them. So they kept their distance from me and didn’t involve me in any family activities.”

Harry plays with his glass and squirms in his chair when he sees the way Regulus is looking at him. Somehow, it seems like Regulus got more out of Harry’s words than he intended to tell him.

“That sounds… lonely.”

Harry shrugs. “It could’ve been a lot worse. And it got better after I got my Hogwarts letter, and they realized they couldn’t suppress the magic inside of me.”

Something flickers over Regulus’ face, but it’s gone before Harry can figure out what it is.

Regulus shakes his head. “Harry… Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you choose to become an Unspeakable? Most people expected you to end up as an Auror, right?”

Harry smiles faintly. He’s glad Regulus decided to change the subject. Talking about his relatives is never fun, and now that they are out of his life, there is no reason to talk about them anyway.

Harry leans back and thinks about Regulus’ question. He’s far from the first one who asked him that. Most people hadn’t liked his answer, and he is curious to see how Regulus will react.

“You’re right. Everyone expected me to become an Auror, myself included, at least during my time at Hogwarts. But shortly after Riddle’s death, I realized that the job wasn’t right for me. I had risked my life countless times in my youth, but I was dragged into these situations more often than not, mainly because Riddle was so intent on killing me. And the prophecy also played its part, I suppose.

“After Riddle died, I had a real choice in the matter for the first time in my life. And I decided that I needed some peace of mind after the war. There was nothing in the Auror department that could only be done by me, personally, so I saw no need to choose a career for myself that I didn’t want.”

Regulus nods. “But why did decide to become an Unspeakable specifically? You could have chosen any career you wanted.”

Harry thinks about it for a moment, not sure how to put his thoughts into words.

“I needed a job where I could be my own boss and where I wouldn’t attract much attention. My current job offers that. Another benefit is that I’m not allowed to talk about what I’m doing at work, so no one can pester me with questions.

“Being an Unspeakable is perfect in the sense that I can finally drop out of the public’s eye, for the most part, without it seeming weird or suspicious. What I do day in and day out will never end up on the front page, no matter what. I like the freedom my job gives me.” Harry shakes his head. “I probably won’t stay an Unspeakable for the rest of my life, but right now, it’s exactly what I need. Maybe I’ll decide one day that I want to be an Auror after all. But then it will be my decision and not something that’s forced upon me.”

When Regulus doesn’t respond, Harry looks up.

“What?” Harry asks defensively. “Are you gonna tell me that it looks like I let other people’s opinions of me dictate my career choice?”

“No. Not at all. If anything, I think the opposite is the case. If you had wanted to appease the most people, you would have become an Auror despite your unwillingness. But instead, you chose what makes you most comfortable, even though it displeased many people. I heard what the Howlers accused you of, Harry. Many complained that you wouldn’t have become interested in Dark Artifacts if you had become an Auror.”

Regulus narrows his eyes and takes a deep breath. Then he continues.

“I know you would have chosen to become an Auror if you wanted to, despite the inconveniences that go along with that. So no, I don’t think you let other people’s opinions of you dictate your career choice. People who say that don’t know you at all.”

Harry flushes. Not even Ron and Hermione had told him that they stood behind his career choice like Regulus just did. Sure, they had been supportive, but not to the extent Regulus had just proven to be.

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.”

***

When they arrive back home, Regulus asks, “So, did you enjoy yourself?”

“You know I did.”

“Good,” Regulus says. “That’s good.”

And then, suddenly, Regulus stands right in front of him and lays his hand on Harry’s cheek. Before Harry can do more than look at him with big eyes, Regulus leans forwards, and his lips brush against Harry’s for a second. Then he draws back a couple of inches and looks searchingly into Harry’s eyes.

Harry licks his lips reflexively. It hadn’t even been a real kiss, just a brushing of two lips, and yet... Harry’s eyes flicker towards Regulus’ mouth, wondering what a real kiss would feel like.

The question gets answered the next second. Regulus seems to have found whatever he was looking for in Harry’s eyes and leans forwards again to press his lips against Harry’s.

And something inside of Harry snaps.

Before he knows it, he has wrapped his arms around Regulus and is returning the kiss fiercely. When Regulus' tongue licks over his lips, asking for entrance, he opens his mouth without thinking.

Harry loses himself in the dance of their tongues, vaguely aware that he must have pushed Regulus against a wall at some point. Harry only comes back to his senses when he feels Regulus’ hand sliding down towards Harry’s pants.

Harry breaks the kiss and takes a couple of deep breaths. His heart is beating so fast it feels like it will jump out of his chest. “Wait. Just… Wait a second. I need to think.”

Chapter Text

“What is there to think about?” Regulus says, panting. “I know you want this as much as I do.”

Harry licks his lips. It’s tempting to just go with the flow and think about the consequences later. But he doesn’t want to do anything he will come to regret. So he presses a hand against Regulus’ chest and takes a step back.

“I’m not into one-night-stands.”

Regulus cocks his head. “Me either. I like you, Harry. And I know you like me too.”

Harry’s shoulders relax as the tension leaves his body. But only for a moment, then he remembers all the over reasons why this might be a mistake.

“I… I don’t even know if I’m into guys.”

Regulus chuckles, still a bit breathless. He leans forward and whispers directly into Harry’s ear. “I could feel you were when we were pressing against me.”

Harry’s face burns when Regulus pulls back and grins at him smugly.

“I… alright, fair point. But I don’t know if…” Harry frowns, wondering how he can put his thoughts into words in a way that doesn’t sound stupid. “How do I know it will stay that way?”

“Your sexual orientation doesn’t just change overnight. Just because you only recently realized you like guys as well doesn’t mean you haven’t always been this way.”

Harry frowns. “But what if you’re wrong? What if I’m just… I don’t know, sexually frustrated because it’s been so long since I’ve been with someone? What if I wake up in a week or a month and realize that I’m not into you after all? What then?”

“I can’t guarantee you that’s not going to happen. Odds are you will get bored of me eventually, or I will get bored of you. But the same thing could happen with any woman you meet. I’m willing to live with that possibility. The question is: Are you?”

Harry shakes his head slowly, not as an answer to the question, but to try and get a clear head. “This is so confusing. I don’t even know how a sexual relationship between two guys works.”

Regulus smiles. “It’s not that different from a heterosexual relationship. Expect the… physical aspect, of course.”

Harry feels his face heating up again.

“Don’t worry. I can wait until you get used to the idea of being with a guy. I’m sorry that I overwhelmed you earlier. The way you looked at me, the last couple of days… I assumed you knew you were sending signals and that you had dated guys before.”

Harry blinks. He hadn’t realized he had been that obvious. Besides… “But if you thought I was interested in you, and you liked me as well, why were you distancing yourself so much from me? Shouldn’t you have done the exact opposite?”

“Maybe, but I didn’t for two reasons. First of all, I really have had a lot on my plate ever since the article got published. And second of all, I needed some time away from you to figure out if my attraction to you is real or just hero worship.”

Harry holds his breath. He hadn’t even thought of that possibility yet.

Regulus sighs. “There’s no reason to make a face like that, Harry. What I’m feeling for you has nothing to do with hero worship. I promise.”

“Why are you so sure of that?”

“Because I’m not idolizing you. Yes, you went out of your way to help me, and I recognize your many good qualities. But I know you aren’t perfect. I’m not blind to your flaws.”

Harry bites his lips. “Then name some of them, please.”

Regulus sighs. “Fine, if you insist… You think too highly of your friends, as I’ve already told you once, and you’re, arguably, too trusting, which can be dangerous. I could have hurt you countless times, just like your friends said. And you’re willing to get yourself into uncomfortable and painful situations just to do others a favor. You proved that when you met with Skeeter that first time without talking with me about it first.” Regulus pauses to think for a second. “That’s all I can come up with off the top of my head.”

Harry smiles.

Regulus rolls his eyes. “You can add that to the list. It’s weird to smile after someone confronted you with your flaws.”

“Alright, I believe you that it’s not hero worship,” Harry says, utterly ignoring Regulus’ last comment. “But there are still other reasons why this,” he gestures vaguely, “might be a bad idea.”

Regulus raises his eyebrows. “Really. Care to share those reasons?”

“Well, there’s the age difference, obviously.”

Regulus stares at him. “I’m eighteen. You’re twenty-one. We’re both adults, even by Muggle standards. I could understand your concerns if I had aged normally, but this way, I don’t see the problem.”

“Fine, whatever, the age difference is not that big of a deal. But… there are so many things you still don’t know about me.”

Regulus cocks his head. “And you think if I knew some of them, I might change my mind about you?”

Harry hesitates. “One of them might, yes. You asked me why I’m sure Riddle won’t come back some time ago, remember?”

Regulus nods.

“Right. Of course, you remember. Do you want to know how I knew?”

Regulus blinks. “You’re willing to tell me?”

“Yes, if you promise to keep it to yourself.”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Good.” Harry licks his lips, wondering what the best way to explain it is. Well, it’s probably better if I say it as outright as I can. It will be a shock, no matter what, anyway.

“I was Riddle’s seventh Horcrux, the one he never intended to make. When Riddle tried to kill me twenty years ago, he accidentally left a piece of his soul behind, and it latched on to me. Because of that, I had a connection to Riddle's mind and knew what he was thinking and doing sometimes.”

Regulus’ eyes widen for a moment. Then he frowns. “But why do you think I might not want to date you because of that?”

Harry exhales slowly and closes his eyes. “Don’t you… I don’t know, think I’m disgusting because I was a Horcrux?”

Regulus snarls, and Harry’s eyes fly open again. “Of course not! If anything, it makes me think more highly of you. You survived finding out that there was a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul inside of you and even found a way to get rid of it without dying.”

Harry grimaces. “Actually, I fully expected to die to get rid of the Horcrux.”

“And that only proves your strength and determination, nothing else.” Regulus laughs. “I can’t believe you thought I might reject you because of this. Thank you for telling me, Harry. You’re afraid people will think you’re still a Horcrux if they find out about it, right? That’s why you didn’t tell me sooner.” Harry nods reluctantly. Regulus laughs again. “If this is what you consider your darkest secret, there is nothing that could make me think badly of you, Harry. Nothing.”

Harry takes a shaky breath and closes his eyes once more to take that in. He had been sure Regulus would need some time to process that revelation. That he doesn’t seem to mind at all is a surprise.

When he finally opens his eyes again, he finds Regulus looking at him with a fascinated glint in his eyes.

“Well? Do you have any more reasons why we shouldn’t date?”

Harry frowns, wondering if there is anything else he should bring up, but nothing comes to mind.

Regulus nods. “We both know the real reason why you are so reluctant to give this a try. You’re scared. Scared to hurt me, scared to hurt yourself.”

Harry grimaces. “Fine, you’re right. I don’t want to fuck this up, okay?”

Regulus smiles. “Harry. The only way you can fuck this up right now is if you run away. All I ask of you is that you stay.”

Harry takes a deep breath and nods slowly. “I… alright. I won’t run away. I still think this may turn out to be a mistake, but we can’t know until we try, right?”

“That’s the spirit.” Regulus takes a step forward, and suddenly there doesn’t seem to be enough air in the room. “Now, where were we?”

Regulus’ face comes closer and closer until his lips brush against Harry’s. The kiss is a lot tamer this time around, but for some reason, that only makes it more intense.

Regulus’ hands slide into Harry’s hair, his fingertips pressing against his scalp, and Harry tightens his grip on Regulus’ hips so that he doesn’t do anything stupid. Then Regulus bites softly into Harry’s bottom lip and pulls. Harry whimpers pathetically, and he instinctively breaks the kiss, mortified.

“None of that,” Regulus says and pulls one of his hands out of Harry’s hair to touch Harry’s burning cheek. “I won’t allow you to be ashamed because you like kissing me.”

Harry, still feeling embarrassed, raises his eyebrows. “You won’t allow it?”

Regulus raises an eyebrow of his own. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

Harry looks right into Regulus’ eyes, suddenly glad that he fell for someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to him.

“No. Not at all.”

This time, it’s Harry who initiates the kiss, and he doesn’t stop until he got Regulus to utter an equally needy whimper.

After that, Harry lets himself go completely. He still doesn’t know if this… thing with Regulus will last. But right now, he feels so good that he can’t help but think he made the right decision.