I win!’ ‘Checkmate.’ ‘No, I have checkmate!’ Sirius put his head in his hands. ‘That’s what I’m saying. You’re supposed to say “checkmate” not “I win”.’ ‘It’s my birthday so I can decide if I want to say “I win” or “checkmate”,’ he countered. ‘That’s birthday privileges.’ Sirius laughed. ‘All right then, birthday boy. Let’s play again.’ ‘You think you can beat me now?’ ‘I know I can,’ he said. Regulus grinned and directed the pieces to their staring positions. Sirius did the same. ‘You’re not going easy on me just because it’s your birthday, are you?’ he asked, when Sirius (who played white) directed his Knight to the third square along the King’s side, by the castle. ‘I’d never,’ said Sirius. ‘I want to win.’ ‘So do I,’ Regulus said, sending his own King’s pawn two squares ahead. ‘And I will.’ Sirius smirked, moving his King’s Knight’s pawn one step ahead. ‘We’ll see about that, now, shall we?’ He simply moved his pawn another step. ‘Yeah. We shall.’ Sirius winked and sent his Bishop ahead – not the easiest task, as the piece was vehemently opposed to moving to that square. Regulus chuckled and rested his chin on his hands, watching his brother arguing with the chess pieces. They were Grandmother Irma’s, and Sirius’ losing streak from this morning had done little to win over their trust. It was quite comical, seeing them disagree so early into the game. Sirius would never win if they kept this up, protesting his every move, refusing to do as told... He sighed. Sometimes his mind jumped from one thing to the next with little to no warning and now was such a time. It had taken him to Bellatrix, because Bellatrix had been just the same the last time they’d seen her. She’d refused to do as told, and then she’d left. To find that dangerous man. To offer him her allegiance. It had been so long since she disappeared... He shook his head and looked at the board, sitting up again. Sirius’ Bishop had finally done as asked. He moved a pawn, and was happy to find it didn’t struggle against him: it was a sign he was a far better player, at least in the eyes of the pieces. Then it was Sirius’ turn again, and he took an incredibly long time to think about his next move, even though he almost always played the exact same moves, regardless of what Regulus played. And so his mind took off again... Where was Bellatrix now? Where were Mother and Father? He was still at his grandparents’ even though that month they’d been sent to stay here was already over. Mother and Father just kept adding another week to it, and never gave a reason for it. Not to him, at least. Not to Sirius, either. And Grandmother and Grandfather, when asked, just said, “They’re busy”. And perhaps they were, he thought, as he absentmindedly sent another piece forwards. Now that he’d started thinking about them, he couldn’t stop to focus on the game. He hadn’t seen them in so long now. He had tried to count the days but then he’d lost track of them. Because they hadn’t really been there before they came here, had they? They hadn’t even really been there before they’d left them home alone, with that endless punishment preceding it. He hadn’t seen his parents – not properly, at least – since Christmas. Tears welled up in his eyes unannounced and drowned out his thoughts. He heard Sirius say something, voice teasing, and he just sent his Bishop two squares further, without looking at the board. And he tried to dry his tears without his big brother noticing, tried to keep them from falling by not blinking, sitting unmoving. And so the game progressed. He moved only his lips to send his pieces and pawns across the board to random places, and he could hear their arguing but it didn’t get through to him. He just thought of his parents. He wanted to ask Grandmother when they would be back, but he knew he’d just get the same response as always. And he knew she didn’t like being asked questions she had no answers to. And he knew she had no answer to this. He knew – or suspected, at least – that his grandparents were as much in the dark about this as they were. He looked at his brother. Did he think about them often? They barely ever talked about these things. He’d wanted to, and several times he’d come close to asking him something about it all, but then he’d lost his nerve. He couldn’t find the words. So it remained unsaid. He sent another piece on its way. ‘You’re getting reckless,’ Sirius said, raising an eyebrow. ‘I am not,’ he said automatically. ‘Are too. You don’t even think about your moves.’ ‘I don’t need to think to play well.’ Sirius sighed. ‘You’re in a mood.’ ‘I’m not,’ Regulus said, a little too harshly. Sirius gave him a look but didn’t press. ‘Check,’ he said. He moved his Knight, blocking him. And the game went on. And he tried to stay with it. He really did. He tried to care as he moved his Queen. He tried so hard... He looked at his pieces, and they glared back at him. He was in check again and he’d obviously blundered somewhere, but he couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong – and didn’t really mind either. He just brought his King to safety and looked out of the window, at the waters and the lands stretched out as far as he could see. It was a peaceful sight. It was the kind of sight that would make anyone happy. And that on his birthday… His stomach twisted painfully and he looked at the door that led out of the sitting room. He could picture it easily. It could swing open at any moment now and reveal his parents. Any moment now... ‘... Are you deaf or something?!’ He looked down at the source of the noise: his chess pieces. He was in check again. He looked up at Sirius. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, and he got his King out of harm’s way. Again. But he knew it would be a matter of minutes before he could no longer do that, and he’d lose. But he couldn’t bring himself to care and focus to try and prevent that. He just missed home so much. He missed the portraits that lined the halls. He missed his pillow back in his room, he missed his bed, he missed the hornbook he’d got and his own handcrafted quill. He missed the lessons with Father in his study. He missed his voice and his scent and his hands upon his shoulders. He missed Mother’s rages, even. And he missed her softness. He missed the way she’d look at him, missed her presence around him. He even missed the simple sound of the fire in the drawing room hearth – it felt silly to say, because his grandparents also had fireplaces. And fires still crackled just the same. He supposed they only had one sound. And yet, it was so different from how it was at home. Everything here was so different from how it was at home... ‘Reg,’ Sirius said. ‘Reeeeg.’ ‘I know, I know… Queen to… there,’ he said absentmindedly, pointing somewhere on the board and his Queen followed begrudgingly. Sirius clicked his tongue. ‘That was a bad move.’ ‘I don’t care.’ ‘You should,’ Sirius said. ‘Because – Queen to Queen Six – check. Again.’ Regulus didn’t mind it. He let him have his fun. He barely even saw his smirk. He moved his King, and he was in check again. And he moved the King again... The game ended quickly after that. ‘I told you I’d win,’ Sirius said. ‘You want to play again?’ ‘No,’ Regulus admitted. He pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘I want to—’ He stopped. ‘What?’ Sirius asked. Regulus scuffed his foot against the floor. ‘I don’t know.’ It wasn’t supposed to be a bad day. It was his birthday. He was supposed to be happy. ‘Come on, let’s go outside,’ said Sirius, standing up as well. His previous triumph had left him. As they opened the door to leave the sitting room, the scent of warm, freshly baked bread and cinnamon filled their nostrils. ‘Ah, I was just about to get you two,’ said Grandmother, and Regulus only noticed her standing in front of them then. He followed her to the dining hall and sat down, with Sirius to his side, feeling rather empty inside. On the table lay all the things he liked to eat. Honeyed porridge, cinnamon buns – he took one of them after Grandmother insisted he did, saying he had to eat because he was growing, and he’d only grow more if he ate well. ‘Where’s Grandfather?’ Sirius asked, voice muffled as he bit through some bread and butter. ‘He’ll be here soon,’ said Grandmother. ‘And he’ll bring your cousins with him.’ Regulus sighed. Andromeda and Narcissa had left long ago; they’d been told to come back home only days after they’d gone to Diagon Alley and Bellatrix ran away. But not them. They hadn’t been called back by Mother and Father. They’d been left here. On their own. Because Mother and Father were busy. Too busy. Too busy to even visit, or... ‘Did I get a letter?’ Grandmother looked up from her tea. ‘What?’ ‘Did they write to me?’ he asked, gripping the edge of the table. ‘Mother and Father, did they send an owl?’ Grandmother sighed and put down her cup. She looked at him in pity. ‘They are very busy,’ she said softly. ‘You know that.’ ‘But it’s my birthday,’ he mumbled. ‘Are you sure they didn’t send anything?’ ‘I’m sorry,’ Grandmother said. But Regulus had no use for her “sorry”. It didn’t bring his parents back. He pushed back his plate and crossed his arms. The idea of eating made him feel sick. ‘I don’t want breakfast,’ he said. ‘Regulus,’ Grandmother said warningly. ‘I don’t want it!’ He got up before she could stop him, leaving through the door, going outside and rushing towards the water. He sat down in the sand and pulled off his socks. The sand got between his toes and he pressed his hands down into the sand as well. He closed his eyes. The tears came. He let them fall. Sirius found him in this position a few minutes later. ‘Hey,’ he said. Regulus didn’t answer. He was still crying quietly. He didn’t care how childish that was of him. He didn’t care about anything right now. He felt Sirius plop down beside him, and he looked up, briefly. ‘They should’ve written,’ he whispered, voice cracking. ‘Even just a sentence. Just something. It’s my birthday.’ Sirius sighed. ‘I know.’ Regulus curled his hands into fists in the sand. He wanted to be home. He wanted to hear Mother’s voice, he wanted to hear Father’s voice, he wanted to be near them. He needed to be near them. It hurt so much not to be near them. It was as if his heart was being ripped out over and over and over again, just as in the tale of the Warlock’s Hairy Heart, only more painful. But maybe his heart would grow hairy as well if this lasted long enough. Maybe he just had to stop putting it back inside his chest – if only he knew how. They sat next to each other for a while, both silent, both lost in thought, and it slowly calmed him down. It brought him back from wherever he’d been, into a world filled with birdsong and the sloshing of the waves. He fumbled the grains of sand between his fingers and it brought back the feeling in his limbs. He felt his robes clinging to him, sweaty and dirtied by the sand, and he felt Sirius’ eyes burning through his skull. He looked up and they shared a small smile. Even if he didn’t have his parents here, he did have his brother. They only left the shore when the crack of Apparition alerted them of Grandfather Pollux’s arrival – and, indeed, as Grandmother had said, he came with Andromeda and Narcissa. They were called to follow them inside, and they did, and his stomach rumbled as they reached the table again. On it lay all sorts of little snacks and sweets and he gratefully grabbed some small chocolates and plopped them into his mouth. They all sat at the table, waiting. Grandmother served Butterbeer; Grandfather revealed he’d stopped by Honeydukes in Hogsmeade, near Hogwarts, and they all enjoyed themselves with the sweets he’d brought until there was a knock on the door again. ‘That’ll be your grandparents. Go on,’ said Grandmother, gesturing to the door. Regulus slipped off his chair and opened it. Grandfather Arcturus and Grandmother Melania swept into the room, carrying several boxes of presents with them. They set them down upon the table, then turned to face Regulus. ‘Happy birthday,’ said Grandfather Arcturus. ‘Thank you, Grandfather,’ Regulus said, remembering his manners. Grandmother Melania beamed down at him and pulled a small box from her purse. She handed it to him. Regulus hesitated. ‘May I open it now?’ She nodded. He lifted the lid carefully. Inside, nestled on black velvet, was a gleaming wrist watch. It was bright and reflected the light that came in through the window. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, and he set down the box. He lifted the wrist watch out of it and struggled to put it on. ‘Here, let me—’ Narcissa started, reaching out to grab the watch. ‘No,’ he said, pulling away. ‘I can do it myself.’ And he could, he was sure of it. It would just take him a little while longer. And as he struggled with the watch, the adults seemed to forget he had ears. ‘I trust the boys have been behaving?’ he heard Grandfather Arcturus ask. ‘Of course,’ Grandmother Irma said smoothly. ‘We’re making sure both of them are raised properly, despite the... circumstances...’ The circumstances. Regulus’ stomach twisted at that word, and he nearly dropped the watch. Bellatrix’s absence. Him being here. Everything surrounding this. He stared at the watch, resisting the urge to ask, “When are they coming back? When can I see them? Do they even know it’s my birthday?” He felt a hand upon his shoulder and looked up. Narcissa smiled down at him and this time he let her help with the watch. She kissed his cheek. ‘Happy birthday,’ she whispered, and she placed a neatly wrapped parcel in front of him. ‘You’re getting so big,’ Andromeda said as she put down her gift next to Narcissa’s. ‘Eight years old now.’ He nodded, and smiled, but his heart wasn’t in it – it had just been ripped out again. He unwrapped the gifts, trying to ignore the hushed conversation the grownups were still having. He caught snippets, of course. Something about disappearances. But he knew enough about disappearances after Bellatrix left them. He didn’t want to hear more. The girls had given him a fine writing set (and he was still practising, and learning – just guided by Grandmother, not Father – and he was getting rather good at it, too) complete with three raven feather quills, colour-changing ink and some parchment to get started with. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, running his fingers over the parchment. It was smooth to the touch, and a small part of him couldn’t wait to try it out. They smiled. He sighed and looked around the table. He caught Sirius, stuffing chocolates into his mouth, and he caught Grandfather Pollux’s stern look – it should’ve been Mother sitting there, reprimanding him. He caught Grandfather Arcturus’ unreadable expression and could only picture Father in that seat. And he sighed again. He unwrapped more gifts as the day stretched on. Books, robes, more books... The one gift that was truly exciting, aside form the fine writing set, was Sirius’. He’d given him a nicely polished wooden chess set – brand new and willing to learn. The four of them took turns with it all afternoon, laughing as the pieces and pawns still had to be taught the rules of the game, and they had to be extremely specific when giving directions or the Knight would hop in a straight line all across the board, or the pawns would move four or five places instead of one. It was only when the Sun dipped lower, and the light that came in through the windows turned golden, that they finally understood the rules. That was also when they had to stop their game. Grandmother Melania called them back from the sitting room for dinner. Afterwards, there was cake and tea. And the cake was magnificent. It was chocolate with sugared violets, and everyone applauded him when he cut it into eight pieces that weren’t as evenly shaped as he’d meant for them to be. He mumbled an apology, but nobody seemed to mind. Sirius, predictably, tried to steal the largest piece. And they all let him have it – Regulus included. He didn’t mind. The chess set, the presents, the games, the cake... it all helped him forget about the emptiness, it made him forget there should be three more people. He laughed when Sirius got icing on his nose, listened as Grandfather Arcturus told a drily story about his youthful escapades, and let Narcissa fuss over his hair. But then the cake was eaten, and the plates were cleared, and the Sun dipped lower still. And the evening loomed. With it came the realisation that the day was almost over. His birthday was nearly gone, and nothing had changed. His parents hadn’t written, and they hadn’t appeared at the door. No owls had arrived with last-minute birthday wishes. And the ache swelled again, pressing against his ribs, threatening to rip out his heart once more. He watched as Narcissa and Andromeda rose to leave, heading over to the fireplace. Something inside of him was building. A fear. A desperation. And it grew and grew and grew ever more as Andromeda left. Then it was Narcissa’s turn. And he just couldn’t help himself. He came closer to her as she took some Floo powder from the pot. ‘Narcissa?’ She turned. ‘Yes?’ ‘Can I stay with you tonight?’ ‘What? Why?’ Regulus didn’t answer. He just looked at her, hoping she’d say yes. She had to say yes. She frowned slightly, then glanced at Grandmother Irma and Grandfather Pollux. ‘I don’t think—’ she began, but then she looked at him again, and she stopped. Her expression changed, and she turned back to their grandparents. ‘If it’s all right with you?’ There was a pause. Then Grandfather Pollux nodded. Regulus exhaled, relief washing over him. ‘But you never ask to stay anywhere else,’ Sirius interrupted before they could leave, and it was true; Sirius was the one who had sleepovers, not him. But tonight... Tonight was different. Thankfully, Narcissa didn’t ask these kinds of questions. She just held out her hand, and he took it. Together they went through the fire and together they came out in the drawing room on the other end, where Andromeda was already curled up in an armchair, a book resting open on her lap. ‘You brought him?’ she asked, as they got rid of the soot. ‘Of course,’ Narcissa said lightly. ‘It is his birthday.’ Regulus smiled, thankful she didn’t betray the desperation he was sure she’d seen in his eyes. But Andromeda saw right through it and closed her book. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘What’s wrong?’ Regulus hesitated, looking at Narcissa. She sighed, settling onto the sofa. ‘He misses them.’ ‘Your parents?’ Regulus nodded. There was no way around it now. But that was all right. Andromeda was Andromeda. She’d understand. ‘I thought they’d write,’ he admitted. ‘At least today.’ Andromeda nodded, leaning back in her chair. ‘They should have.’ Narcissa shot her a look. ‘They’re busy.’ ‘He’s a child alone on his birthday. If they’re too busy to come – which is ridiculous in itself, but all right, let’s say they are – they could’ve at least written to him.’ Regulus swallowed, staring down at his hands. He didn’t like hearing her argue. It reminded him too much of that day in Diagon Alley... and Knockturn Alley. It brought back memories he really didn’t want to have – not today, not now. ‘Anyway,’ Narcissa said, changing the subject, ‘since you’re staying, I suppose we’ll have to do something fun, right?’ Andromeda hummed in agreement. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever played Exploding Snap?’ ‘Of course I have,’ he said. ‘Properly?’ ‘What do you mean?’ Andromeda smirked and pulled out her wand. With a flick, a deck of cards appeared in midair, shuffling themselves. ‘You’ll see.’ Regulus watched the cards, intrigued. He vaguely heard Narcissa comment something about burnt holes in the carpet but paid it no mind. He just watched the cards as they distributed themselves between the three of them. Regulus sat down on the floor, and Narcissa followed his lead, coming down from the sofa. ‘All right,’ said Andromeda, lowering herself on the carpet as well. ‘We go on three. One... two—’ And the game was on. And he quickly found out that Andromeda had been right. This was not the Exploding Snap he knew. This was not the Exploding Snap he’d played with his brother back at home, the kind that send soft sparks flying through the air. This was real. The cards didn’t sparkle, they exploded, and if the player wasn’t quick enough, he’d end up with his hand in the flames, with his eyebrows singed, with, indeed, holes burnt into carpet and clothes… The three of them played several rounds, and Andromeda won them all. And she’d have continued to win more if she hadn’t stood up after the fourth one, yawning, saying, ‘Well, that’s enough excitement for me.’ ‘Please, just one more round?’ Regulus asked her, his chest feeling heavy. Outside it was dark now. It really was late. Soon, it would be tomorrow. All would be lost. Andromeda shook her head. ‘I’d rather go to bed than risk my eyebrows being singed off because I was too tired to pay close attention,’ she said, clearing the cards away with another flick of her wand. Regulus sighed. He hated how logical that sounded. ‘Goodnight, Andy,’ Narcissa said. ‘Yeah, goodnight,’ Regulus echoed. ‘Goodnight,’ Andromeda said, before disappearing down the hall. ‘Maybe we should go to bed as well,’ Narcissa said, studying him. He knew he looked dreadful. He was tired. He could probably do with some sleep. But to sleep was to let the day pass away, and that was just a step too far. Before he could say anything of the sort, though, the drawing room door creaked open. ‘It’s late,’ Uncle Cygnus said, stepping inside. He said nothing about Regulus’ presence, as though it was completely normal for him to be there. ‘You should both be in bed.’ ‘We were just about to,’ Narcissa said, standing up and stretching. Aunt Druella, who came in after her husband, nodded approvingly. ‘Good. Regulus, we’ve readied the guest room for you.’ Regulus didn’t move. Narcissa turned back to him. ‘Come on, then. Let’s go to bed.’ But still, he didn’t move. Aunt Druella frowned. ‘Regulus?’ His throat tightened. He had to say something. ‘I just want to stay up a little longer... Just a little bit...’ ‘Absolutely not,’ she said. ‘It’s already far past your bedtime, and—’ ‘It’s my birthday,’ he interrupted. She inhaled sharply through her nose. ‘Regulus—’ ‘No!’ he said forcefully, shaking his head. ‘What if they come for me? What if they come for me tonight?’ ‘Your parents—’ ‘They’re busy, I know,’ he said, suddenly finding it difficult to hold back the tears from welling in his eyes. ‘But what if they find the time to come, and find me asleep? What if they think I didn’t want to wait for them? What if they think I don’t care?’ His voice cracked on the last word, and, to his horror, tears started streaming down his cheeks. He rubbed at them furiously, but they kept coming. ‘Regulus...’ Aunt Druella sighed. ‘I just...’ he sniffled, looking at the mantle-clock. ‘It’s still my birthday...’ Narcissa sat back down beside him. ‘It is,’ she agreed. Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella exchanged glances. For a moment, he thought they would scold him, insist he go to bed – but instead, they only nodded. ‘Just one more hour,’ Uncle Cygnus said. ‘Until the clock strikes midnight.’ ‘But then you sleep,’ added Aunt Druella. Regulus swallowed, wiped some more at his tears, and nodded. And so they sat on the floor, side by side, watching the seconds pass by with the soft ticking of the clock. After ten minutes, Narcissa moved to the sofa, and he came with her. They sat on the sofa in silence for ten more minutes, just waiting. Eventually, Narcissa curled up, her head against the armrest. And he watched her eyes fall closed. And she slept. But he didn’t. He fought his tiredness by getting up again and pacing the room, determined to stay awake. There was just half an hour left of today – he wasn’t about to lose now. He knew they’d come. They’d never been away on any of his birthdays. Surely they’d find the time, even if they were busy, to at least write. To at least talk. He sat back down in one of the chairs, positioned so he could clearly see the fire, and pulled his legs up against his chest, hugging them, resting his chin on his knees. And the minutes dragged. There were only fifteen left of his birthday when the faintly-glowing embers in the hearth were roared back to life in a flicker of green. His heart jumped, and he followed, rushing to the fireplace as the face took shape. But the face was not that of his mother, nor that of his father. He saw wild, dark curls. Sharp cheekbones. Heavily lidded eyes that burnt with something fierce and frantic. ‘Bella!’ he exclaimed loudly, and he crouched down by the fire. ‘Are you alone?’ asked Bellatrix, her eyes darting across the room. Regulus looked back at the sofa. Narcissa had woken up and now sat, yawning, looking confused at her surroundings. ‘Mostly,’ he said. She smiled. ‘I suppose it’s a little late, but I wanted to wish you a very happy birthday.’ ‘You remembered,’ he breathed, amazed she’d pay a visit just for that. ‘Of course I did.’ ‘Bellatrix?!’ Narcissa stood next to him now, clutching her hat in her hands, looking torn between running to get her parents and sitting down beside him. ‘Where are you?!’ ‘Somewhere far away,’ she said, smirking. Regulus scooted even closer to the fire. ‘Are you coming back?’ ‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here, then?’ Narcissa asked. She still stood stiffly by his side. ‘Just making sure all is well’ ‘Just making sure all is well?’ she repeated, full of disbelief. ‘You vanished for almost two months, without a word, and now you show up in the middle of the night just to make sure all is well?! Have you any idea how utterly ridiculous—’ ‘I have my reasons.’ ‘And whatever they are, they’re not good enough!’ Narcissa’s voice wavered. ‘You could have—should have—we were all so worried—’ She fell down on her knees by the fireside and seemed thoroughly shaken by the whole ordeal. ‘Go get them,’ said Bellatrix. Narcissa looked up. ‘What?’ ‘Mother and Father. Go. Wake them up. Bring them here.’ Narcissa’s hands curled into fists as she regained her strength. ‘And why should I? Why should I listen to you demanding I leave Regulus alone in the middle of the night, after—’ ‘What, you think I can’t be trusted with him?’ ‘You took him off to Knockturn Alley!’ ‘And he was fine!’ she argued back. ‘Nothing happened!’ ‘But something could’ve—’ ‘I don’t have time for this, Cissy,’ Bellatrix snapped. ‘Either you fetch them, or I’ll disappear again, and you won’t hear from me for a very long time.’ Narcissa’s jaw tightened, her eyes burning with anger. But she did as she was told, and hastened out of the room. Regulus turned his full attention back to Bellatrix. And though the flames obscured her somewhat, she seemed healthy enough, and she was obviously very much alive. He was glad to see her alive and healthy. And he was glad to see her face soften as the door fell closed behind Narcissa. ‘You look older,’ she murmured. Regulus pulled his face back a little. ‘I am older. I’m eight now.’ She chuckled. ‘Yes. You are.’ Silence stretched between them, and he could see something change in her face. Something flickered in her eyes. ‘I have to tell you something,’ she said, and it sounded serious. ‘Or, actually, I have to tell your aunt and uncle something. And it’s very important. So important that I think you deserve to know as well, but you and I both know they’ll never tell you if I just told them... Do you remember what I talked about back in Diagon Alley?’ He nodded slowly. ‘Well, I’ve found him,’ she whispered. ‘Really?’ She nodded. ‘I’ve met him – he is real. He is true. Everything about him is true. They say he’s going to change the world, and he is. I’ve already seen him do it. He’s going to save us.’ Before Regulus could ask her what on earth she was talking about (why would the dangerous man save anything?), Uncle Cygnus’ angry voice echoed through the room. ‘You better come home right this instant—’ he demanded, his nostrils flaring in anger. ‘Oh, hello, Father,’ she greeted lightly. Uncle Cygnus shot her a look of fury and bared his teeth. ‘Come. Home. Now.’ ‘And what if I don’t?’ she taunted, lips pouted, voice sickly sweet. ‘Will you ground me? Hex me? Marry me off?—Don’t make me laugh.’ At this, Uncle Cygnus’ face twisted, and it turned into something unrecognisable, something monstrous, something that told his entire being to run, to hide – so he did. He crawled back and clutched the fabric of one of the chairs, hiding himself from view and squeezing his eyes shut. ‘If you don’t,’ Uncle said, voice shaking with rage, ‘I will personally hunt you down. And when I find you, you will wish you had never been born.’ ‘You wouldn’t dare,’ Bellatrix whispered. ‘Wouldn’t I?’ She laughed. ‘I think you misunderstand something, Father. I did not come to ask for your permission to stay out past my bedtime. I did not come to be scolded like a child. I did not come to apologise, nor to return to your miserable old house. What I came here for is to tell you what’s coming. I came to tell you about our Lord and Saviour.’ Uncle Cygnus snorted. ‘You think we don’t know where you’ve been, whom you’ve been with? You think we don’t know how you’ve shamed yourself, how you’ve disgraced us all—’ ‘You don’t understand,’ she hissed. ‘You don’t see what’s coming—’ ‘What’s coming,’ he growled, ‘is you coming home tonight. This is finished. You’re going to put an end to it, now, and you will do as you are told.’ ‘I will not—’ ‘You ungrateful, reckless child,’ he seethed. ‘Have you any idea what you’ve done to this family? To your mother? She hasn’t slept in weeks! You return a petulant little girl playing games in the night—But you forget, my dear daughter, that I am not a patient man. I am not a forgiving man. And you are running out of chances to make this right.’ ‘I need neither your patience nor your forgiveness, Father. We are well past that stage. And if I were such a “petulant little girl”, you wouldn’t be so afraid of me.’ ‘Afraid? Afraid? You think I fear you?!’ ‘You should. I have seen what power truly looks like, and I am willing to use it—’ ‘Do not test me,’ he snarled. ‘Test you? Father, you should be thanking me. I have met—’ ‘You do not meet men like him,’ he hissed. ‘You are used by them. Do you even know what he is? What he wants from you?’ ‘I know exactly what he wants. And I want it too. What?’ she added with a dark laugh. ‘Afraid to hear that your precious little doll has outgrown you? I make my own decisions now.’ ‘Enough of this,’ Uncle Cygnus said again. ‘Come home. It’s not yet too late to just come home.’ Bellatrix inhaled sharply. ‘I am home,’ she said. ‘I have found where I belong. And you—you’ll see, soon enough, that I am right.’ ‘You foolish, arrogant—you think he will help you? Do you think he cares about you? You are nothing to him. Nothing! Just another pawn in his war—’ ‘Better a pawn in his war than a prisoner in yours!’ Bellatrix exploded. ‘At least he has a vision! At least he doesn’t cower in his drawing room, whinging about the state of things whilst doing nothing to change them! He is the future, and I will not be left behind with the rest of you—clinging to the past, afraid, weak—’ ‘I said—ENOUGH!’ he roared. ‘Either you come home now, or you never come home at all!’ The silence that followed was too still for too long, and Regulus couldn’t help himself. He had to see what was going on. So he opened his eyes, and he carefully peered around the chair. The fire was cold and dead. Bellatrix had gone. Uncle Cygnus stood rigid, breathing heavily through his nose. Narcissa still hovered in the doorway, all the colour drained from her face. For several long minutes, no-one spoke. And then, with terrifying calmth, Uncle Cygnus turned to Narcissa. ‘Go to bed.’ She didn’t move. ‘I said—’ ‘Yes, Father,’ she whispered quickly. She cast one last glance at Regulus before slipping away, the door closing behind her with a quiet click. Regulus swallowed as Uncle Cygnus turned to him. The anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, and Regulus couldn’t keep himself from shaking in fear. His heart beat so fast it made him nauseous and the world around him was spinning. But his uncle’s voice, when he spoke, was quiet. ‘Not a word of this to anyone. Not if you know what’s good for you. You understand me?’ He hesitated, his throat sealed shut, his heart still hammering in his chest. Everything about his uncle still told him to run, to hide, and yet he had nowhere to go. ‘Do you understand me?’ Uncle Cygnus repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. ‘You shall not speak of this. Not to your brother. Not to your mother. Not to anyone. Or I will make sure you’ll regret it for the rest of your miserable little life.’ Regulus nodded, not knowing if he could produce any sound if he were to try. Everything about him was stuck, frozen. ‘Good.’ He straightened, adjusting the cuffs of his robes as if nothing had happened. His face was calm, cold and composed, but his hands still trembled, betraying the fury within. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room. Date: 22 August, 1969. Event: rab's 8th birthday. Chess, presents… No parents, and no Bellatrix. He's miserable and ends up going with Narcissa to her house at the end of the day. He stays awake until midnight. They let him. Narcissa falls asleep. Bellatrix appears in the fireplace. Narcissa gets her father. Bellatrix talks to Regulus about finding Voldemort, then tells her father, who is very angry and threatens Regulus. Characters: Black Family: Sirius Pollux Black Regulus Arcturus Black Narcissa Black Andromeda Black Bellatrix Black Cygnus Nigellus Black Druella Rosier Melania Macmillan Arcturus Rastaban Black Irma Crabbe Pollux Rigel Black