Chapter 2: 2
Chapter 2: Out of Focus
Grimmauld Place, August 1st 1995
I am still somewhat weakened by the poison I drank; my body aches and the room spins, but somehow, I have apparated into my home. Into the library. It is either that or I'm dead. And I really hope I'm not dead because then I'd have to assume that this – my library - is my heaven. It's not that I don't enjoy spending time in here, but…it's not exactly the place where I expected spending my eternal life in.
The room is dark, and I focus on my breathing. The pain is slowly ebbing away, and it feels like I have drunk a healing potion, even though I haven't. What in the name of sweet fucking Salazar is going on? Am I really dead? No, I don't feel like it. I don't feel like dreaming either. Everything is too detailed; the room, the smells. And if I were dead; would I still feel the coldness seeping to my skin through my drenched clothes; feel the countless pairs of long, slippery fingers, pressing into my skin, forcing me beneath the surface? I suppress a nauseated shiver. I probably wouldn't.
I hear a small groan from the sofa in front of the fireplace. Someone's here. Is it father? Mother never comes in here. Perhaps it is father – which is odd, because it is the middle of the night. I approach him slowly. He stands up and I realise the man is not my father. It is someone I thought I would never see in Grimmauld Place.
James fucking Potter.
I could recognise him a mile away. Sirius's best friend. Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Admired and liked, by most of the students and professors at Hogwarts. My brother and Potter, they were sort of…attached to one another in school, and I reckon afterwards as well. If Potter hadn't been with the Muggleborn, and Sirius with a different girl every other week, I would've thought they were together. You know. As lovers.
Potter pulls out his wand, and I regrettably notice that my wand is missing. I must've left it in the cave. He suddenly turns around and stares at me in shock.
I look back in utter bewilderment, because I cannot comprehend what the hell he is doing in my house, enjoying a nap in my library.
"What the fuck are you doing in here, Potter?" I say, and he gapes back at me.
A couple of seconds pass. Then he seems to remember that he has a wand, so he points it at me as he speaks. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" He asks with a demanding voice, although I can detect a hint of dread in it.
What the…?
"What the hell are you playing at? What are you doing in here? You must be out of your fucking mind, Potter. Did Sirius put you up to this? Is he here?" I ask, or, well, hiss at him, and he takes a couple of steps towards me, his eyes running over my face.
"You – you know who I am?" He asks suspiciously, the determined look in his eyes faltering slightly. "Who are you? You look…familiar. What happened to you?" He warily asks as he takes in my evidently rumpled appearance.
I roll my eyes. "I don't have time for this. Kreacher!" I snap and call for my elf.
Potter's eyes widen when hearing my words and he lets out a strangled sound as Kreacher pops in front of me.
"Master Regulus!" The elf squeals, its tennis ball-sized eyes filling with tears.
My annoyance dissipates slightly, as I take a look at the elf. Kreacher looks thinner, weaker somehow – and I feel a pang of guilt run through me. This is my fault. What the elf endured in the hands of the Dark Lord, and then watching it happen to me, must've done a number on it. Kreacher has probably been beside itself with worry, since, well…we both thought I was going to die, after all.
"It is good to see you," I tell the elf, who squeaks and bows at me. "Kreacher. Do you mind drying my clothes?"
Kreacher stares at me, unblinking, as if I might disappear any moment, before snapping its fingers. Instantly, I feel much warmer, as my robes are not freezing cold anymore, or clinging to my skin.
I give my elf a pat on the head, thanking it, and then observe Potter as he nearly chokes in his own saliva while looking extremely alarmed.
"R-Regulus?" Potter whispers in horror.
Well, now I'm intrigued. He is horrified to see me? In the place I live? What in the name of Salazar is going on?
"Yes?" I drawl.
He splutters. Again.
I turn to my elf. "Kreacher. Would you kindly escort Mr. Potter to his own house?" I ask tightly, narrowing my eyes at the stupid boy in front of me. Boy…He does look a bit younger than I remembered.
"No. Kreacher, do not move me anywhere!" Potter commands as the elf takes a step towards him, and I almost snort. As if Kreacher would listen to anyone else than me.
My confidence quickly disappears when Kreacher hesitates.
What the hell?
"Kreacher. I order you to get Sirius. Now." Potter says to my elf with a tight voice. Kreacher glances at me unsurely.
I stare at the situation in utter bafflement. Then I roll my eyes. "Whatever." I say and nod at Kreacher, who disapparates. They have probably blackmailed the poor elf to obey them.
"You're both going to regret this when mother finds out." I say to Potter, because it is the truth. Sirius ran from home a couple of years ago and was blasted from the family tree right after my mother told me that she'll strangle him if he dares to take a step into our home again.
Potter swallows with unease, a deep frown between his brows. Well, he is right to fear dear mother. She can be quite the hag sometimes.
"I'm…Y-You think I'm James?" Potter asks with confusion, his wand hand shaking a bit.
I give him an incredulous look. "Well. Yes." I say slowly, as if I'm speaking to a child. Which he very much resembles. "Why do you look so…young? Did you take something?" I ask with irritation.
Potter lifts his brows and looks shocked. "No. I'm, er - I'm his s-son."
What the fuck?
"I'm sorry, what?" I ask disbelievingly, even though I heard him the first time. I just need him to utter it again to be sure I heard him say such fucked up things.
"I'm Harry. J-James's son." He repeats, his voice still a bit shaky, and he steadies his wand hand, the end of it trained at me.
I give the wand an assessing glance before turning my narrowed gaze back at him. The look in his eyes seems genuine enough, and now that I think about it, his behaviour seems to be lacking the overly confident trait Potter certainly masters…but how can that be? If my brother and his friend are not taking the piss, and the bloke in my library really isn't James Potter, then something has seriously gone wrong.
"Now, you answer to me! How did you get in here?" He continues, evidently trying to reach more authoritative voice.
What a prat. I arch a brow at him. "I'm a Black. I live here." I say with a hint of a sneer.
Potter – 'Harry' – rolls his eyes and mutters something about my brother under his breath. "But…you don't. Not anymore." He says, slightly hesitantly, and I stare at him in puzzlement.
"Yes. I do." I argue.
Potter shakes his head in frustration. "Where is Sirius…" He mutters, almost helplessly, and as if summoned, the door opens.
I turn around, and stare at the man standing in the doorway. He distantly resembles my brother, but – is it really him? Perhaps someone could tell me what the fuck is happening in here?
"Reggie…?" The man mumbles, staring at me in sleep deprived shock.
I'm fairly certain he's my brother, but Merlin, what has happened to him? Potter and him – they must have been taking some potions to make them look like this.
"W-What the hell is happening in here?" He says, his eyes darting over Potter, the library, ending at me.
"Yes, thank you!" I say sharply, giving my brother an agreeing nod. "I came here minutes ago, and found that on the sofa," I say and jerk my head towards Potter. "Then he has the nerve to sass at me, in my own home, might I add. You do realise what will happen if mother finds out that you're here, brother?" I snappishly ask, and study his appearance more closely.
Sirius is wearing pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. "What the fuck are you wearing? Do you walk like that in public?" I ask in disbelief and give him a look of distaste. He looks so dishevelled I want to look away. Years of education regarding pureblood manners have apparently been washed down the toilet during his short stay at the Potters. I squint at him. He looks so…old. What the hell are they playing at?
"Reggie?" Sirius repeats, walking slowly towards me. He's staring at me in shock. "Is it really you? How is this happening?"
I frown. "Of course it's me." I bite back and glance around. "Look. You two ought to leave. Now." I say firmly. I'm in a desperate need of a long, relaxing sleep and handful of potions to make me feel better. "Mother and father will kill you if they find you here, brother. Same goes to your friend." I hiss at Sirius, and I'm not exaggerating. My parents can be a bit…deranged.
Sirius's eyes widen. "M-Mother and father…" He stammers. "Reggie…I thought – I thought you were d-dead." He says slowly, confusion thick in his voice.
What? I am already rather frustrated by this situation, without my brother mumbling bizarre things. I sneer at him. "As you can see, I'm quite alive."
Potter coughs awkwardly. I send him a glare.
"Should – should I get someone?" Potter asks unsurely, eyeing my brother hesitantly.
I stare at my brother in confusion. "One of you better explain to me what the hell is going on. Now." I say with a low voice. I'm pissed off now. "Where are our parents, Sirius?"
"You're alive?" Sirius breathes, gaping at me.
"In the flesh," I say dryly. In addition to the frustration and irritation, I'm beginning to feel slightly alarmed. Why had my brother believed I was dead?
"You're alive." Sirius mutters and walks to me, taking me by surprise as he crushes me into a brotherly embrace.
Well…This is certainly not what I expected.
I wrench myself away from him. "What is going on? Why do you look so…old? And what was he mumbling about being James Potter's son?" I ask and glance at Potter.
Sirius lets out a huff. "I don't look that old," he mutters sullenly. "And this is Harry. You…you don't know what happened to James and Lily? …Or mother and father?" He asks with a deep frown.
I lift my brows in bewilderment. "What do you mean? Where are mother and father, Sirius?" I ask with dread. Has something happened to them? Has my brother done something?
My brother grimaces. "Reggie…They're – they're dead," he says slowly, looking very uncomfortable. "They died somewhere in the mid-eighties or something like that," he says with a deep sigh and rubs his neck. "Wasn't exactly around to witness that, unfortunately." He mutters the last part, and I can feel my face becoming pale. I feel nauseous, and I suddenly have trouble breathing.
"W-What? They're – w-what, Sirius?" I rasp in shock, and it feels like someone is pressing my windpipe, like the blood in my veins has turned ice cold.
Mother and father are…are dead? How is that even possible? I realise that he has said something else as well. "Mid-eighties?" I mumble. "But…I-I'm…" I stammer, and my cool and composed demeanour has vanished, the walls guarding my mind crumbled down in mere seconds. This is something I definitely hadn't anticipated.
"You died before them." Sirius says, seeming to be quite at a loss. "What happened to you? Where have you been all these years?"
I swallow hard as my brain processes the information. All these years? Old Sirius. James Potter's son. Fuck.
I have a rather decent understanding of what has happened to me.
I don't know what to say to him. I mean, the thought passed my mind right after Potter insisted his name was Harry – that someone or something had tampered with Time Magic – but the thought was immediately discarded since it certainly sounded ludicrous, even in my head.
"What year is it?" I ask mutedly, trying to push everything else into a dark corner of my mind, trying to pull myself together. I need to be in control of this situation. A situation, that has to be the freakiest one I have ever got myself into.
"What?" Sirius asks with a perplexed look, and then realisation crosses his features. "You…don't belong in this time, do you?" Sirius asks slowly, his eyes roaming over my face and body.
"Sirius. What. Year." I grit through my teeth. My voice is trembling and I can feel blood rushing in my ears. The room is spinning.
Potter clears his throat. "1995," he says quietly, and I swallow deeply and close my eyes briefly. This can't be happening.
I run a list of swearwords inside my head and clench my jaw as I try to slow my speeding pulse and ease the pounding in my ears. 1995. I can deal with this. All I need to do is to stay calm, to stay in control. I assume I'm not in an immediate danger, since neither Potter nor my brother seem to be cursing me. I can figure this out. I have to.
The realisation is ringing in my head; I have somehow managed to time travel into the future.
"Circe…" I breathe and move towards the sofa as anxiety threatens to take over. I need to sit down before I pass out.
"Reggie?" Sirius asks with a tone what I assume is concern as he follows me to the seating area in front of the fireplace. He sits down in an armchair, next to the sofa onto which I have slumped. "Where were you before you came here?" He asks, and I think hard what I can say to him.
I don't exactly trust him, even if he is my brother and apparently happy to see me alive. I trust no one – I can't afford to trust anyone.
"Nowhere important." I say.
"What year?" Sirius asks flatly.
Fuck. This isn't going to be easy. "1979." I say rigidly.
"…Fuck me." Sirius mutters. "How did you do that?" He asks with a hint of suspicion in his voice.
I shake my head slightly. "I have no idea," I mutter and stare into the empty fireplace.
How I managed a time-jump like that is beyond me. I really can't wrap my head around all of this. My parents…No, I can't go there, not now. What I should figure out is exactly what my brother asked from me. How did I do that? How did I travel through time without doing anything? Perhaps there was something in the poison I drank?
Potter – who is still a Potter, regardless if he is the spawn of the original Potter – comes to stand next to the fireplace, eyeing me distrustfully.
"What are your intentions? Did Voldemort send you here to help him?" Potter asks, and only then my brother seems to remember that there is close to zero amount of brotherly love between us, despite him caring if I am alive or not.
My brother points his wand towards my chest, the look in his eyes hardening.
"Reggie. Please, for the love of Merlin, don't tell me you're here because of that son of a bitch?" He growls. I can see a hint of alarm in his eyes.
And I realise something from the nervous way my brother and Potter look at each other. Dread fills me yet again. Is the Dark Lord still alive?
I frown at him. "No. I'm not. I left him." I say firmly.
Sirius gives me a long look. "You must be barking mad if you think that he would let you go." He says in disbelief.
I roll my eyes, knowing perfectly well that one does not simply leave the Dark Lord and live to see the next day, but to be honest, I didn't exactly have high expectations regarding my survival. I decide to focus on the apparent fact of the Dark Lord's existence.
Didn't Kreacher destroy the locket? I need to have a discussion with the elf as soon as possible. But first, I have to get a grasp of the situation and make sure I'm not in danger while I stay here.
"So, he's still alive?" I ask mutedly, feeling curious. "And why are you here? In Grimmauld Place?" I ask from my brother. "You hate this place."
Sirius frowns. "Dunno if I can trust you with the information, brother." He says, before glancing at Potter. "Harry, go wake Remus up, and tell him to floo Dumbledore in here." Sirius says and Potter nods and leaves the library with haste.
We stay silent for a while before my brother flicks his wand towards me, and I can't suppress a flinch.
"Accio wand!"
Nothing happens. I arch a brow at him.
Sirius frowns at me in bafflement, before schooling his features. "Where's your wand, brother?" He asks coolly.
A faint smirk lifts my mouth. "No idea, brother," I answer, and can see him clenching his jaw with mild annoyance.
I decide to change the subject before he asks where I might have left it. "So, Dumbledore?" I ask indifferently. "You're still part of his little group?" I ask sarcastically, and Sirius narrows his eyes at me. I take that as a yes.
"You live here then? With the werewolf? What, did you run out of women?" I prod him, and receive a scowl in return.
I sigh. "Are we going to stay silent until your leader arrives?" I ask with a dull voice, and Sirius looks frustrated.
"Yes, Voldemort is still alive, and his antics haven't really changed from what you know of." Sirius says harshly. I'm sensing a hint of bitterness in him. "And I'm not telling you anything else until Dumbledore has read your mind and made sure you're not a threat to us."
I lift my brows in surprise. Apparently my brother has finally matured enough to think before he acts. I realise my brother is now so old that he could actually be my father. Hell, he even looks a bit like our father.
I quickly discard the thought as it is laced with excruciating tightness in my chest.
"To us?" I mutter. "So, is this place…a headquarters?" I ask slowly, and see the answer flash in his eyes.
I grin at him.
"Wanker." Sirius grumbles under his breath.
The door opens and my former Headmaster walks in with Potter trailing behind him, as well as a man I know from school; one of Sirius's friends, who apparently lives in my house these days. The werewolf. Lovely. I briefly wonder where the original Potter is, and why his teenage spawn is here instead. Sirius mentioned that something had happened to them. My brother and I stand up and walk towards the old wizard.
Dumbledore stares at me curiously, his blue eyes sharp as he assesses me over his half-moon spectacles.
"Regulus Black." He says and I give him a curt nod.
"Dumbledore." I say tersely.
His eyes bore into mine so intensely, that I want to avert my gaze but I know I can't. I know what comes next. I feel a sharp pain in my head as the old wizard nudges away the barriers in my mind and dives straight in; quickly and efficiently going through my memories and thoughts. I know I'm an excellent Occlumens, but I also know, that I need allies. I need these people to trust me on some level, at least. I have to choose very carefully what I intend to hide from the old wizard, and what he is allowed to see.
It takes some time before Dumbledore retreats from my mind and leaves behind a raging headache.
"It seems…that you have spoken the truth. You truly are from the past," Dumbledore says slowly. I can see that he's shocked by the news. There is also a calculative look in his eyes as he evidently mulls over everything he saw in my mind.
"So – he's my brother? The same one who I though was dead, but who has travelled into the future?" Sirius confirms. Dumbledore gives him a small nod.
"And he's not one of Voldemort's servants anymore?" Sirius continues, and gives a satisfied look when I cringe at the name.
Dumbledore's eyes sweep over mine, a scrutinising look in them. "His actions and intentions before he came here support my assumption," Dumbledore obscurely replies, and both Potter and Lupin frown at us.
Sirius, on the other hand, watches me with an expressionless look. "And what is it that he has done for you to make that assumption?"
I stare at my brother impassively. My mind whirls back to the situation I was in right before I made the unfortunate jump through time; hundreds of dead corpses surrounding me, pulling me under the surface. I wonder, if I had managed to escape the cave somehow, would I have stayed alive longer than a week? As my brother said, there is no 'handing in one's notice' with the Dark Lord, and I'm certain that once he had found out the depth of my betrayal, he would've personally killed me and everyone who has ever been closer than a stranger to me.
I am beginning to see that there are some advantages in this unintentional time-jump.
"How did he get in here? Into this time?" Lupin asks and walks closer to us. He looks a lot older than my brother. We can't all age well, can we?
Dumbledore looks thoughtful. "If I may?" He asks from me, his wand pointed towards me. I almost laugh, because I really don't have the option to refuse. I give the man a curt nod.
He flicks his wand and I can feel some sort of diagnostic charm sweep over me. I'm suddenly surrounded by wisps of grey smog, circling me slowly. Dumbledore hums as he studies them.
"It seems that young mister Black here has provoked some kind of an ancient ritual… Supposedly, a ritual the Black ancestors have created." Dumbledore finally explains, a deep frown between his brows.
I listen intently, since I have no fucking idea how I came to be in this time. Even if I don't exactly wish to be returned to the situation I left from, I am curious to learn how this kind of rare magic happened – and if it is truly created by my ancestors.
Sirius sighs wearily. "Of course there is a Black ritual that extends through time…" Sirius grumbles. "How is it provoked?" Sirius asks, sounding unsurprised.
Every member of House Black has learned at a young age that there are only a few things that cannot be accomplished by a spell; the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration amongst a handful of other things.
"By sacrifice…" Potter says quietly. I turn to look at him with my brows lifted in a mild surprise, as do everyone else. Potter clears his throat, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Um…well…Hermione and I read about it earlier in the evening," He says with a mix of disbelief and worry in his voice.
"You did this?" I ask, my voice laced with accusation.
Potter lifts his hands in surrender, his eyes flicking towards the others with unease. "We only recited a couple of sentences from some book. We didn't know that it was as spell, I swear," he says hastily, a guilty look in his eyes. "And – and didn't Dumbledore just say you were the one who provoked the ritual?" Potter asks hesitantly, seeking a confirmation from my former Headmaster, who for some reason doesn't look into Potter's eyes as he nods back.
I groan inwardly. What I would like to do is whack him in the head, but somehow, I think the others might interfere. I settle into giving Potter a chastising look.
"First of all. Never read anything aloud. How thick are you? You're inside a Black ancestral home. We tend to be dark and twisty." I say sharply, and Sirius gives me a warning glare. I ignore him and continue. "What did you read? Show me." I demand and the boy scurries towards the table near the sofa to retrieve the book and to find the correct page.
He thrusts the open book in my hands and I study the crumbling tome, its yellowish pages while Sirius comes next to me. I can feel Dumbledore's scrutinising stare against my left temple before he comes closer to see what is written in the book.
"I've never seen this before." My brother mutters.
"Says the boy who didn't even know we had a library…" I say wryly.
"Man."
"Whatever."
My eyes skim through the pages, my brain working to solve the matter. "So…Basically I faced death, was willing to sacrifice myself in order to restore my family's honour and you –" I mutter and glance at Potter, who leans uneasily against the back of the sofa with Lupin standing next to him, a reassuring hand on Potter's shoulder, " – called me into this time by speaking aloud the ritual and our house words?"
Potter nods. "I…um. Yeah." He says, his voice wavering slightly.
Sirius eyes me with surprise, but says nothing. Everyone is silently processing the information.
Circe... This is really something. This is something I have never stumbled on, and trust me, I have seen and heard plenty of unearthly things. I walk towards the seating area and place the book back on the table near the sofa and turn to look at the others expectantly.
Dumbledore hums in thought. "May I suggest that we continue our discussion between adults?" He says and gives Potter a kind smile. "I trust Molly will not be pleased if she finds you out of bed in the middle of the night."
Sirius clears his throat. "Sure. Um. Harry?" He says and cringes when the boy stares at him defiantly. I can see Lupin roll his eyes. I almost do too, as it is rather hilarious to watch how my brother has zero authority.
They exchange some words and the young boy finally leaves with a loud huff, glaring at the rest of us before he slips away from the library.
Dumbledore, Lupin and my brother join me in the seating area; my brother sits down on the sofa, while Dumbledore and Lupin take their seats in the two armchairs. After a moment of hesitation, I too sit down, next to my brother.
Sirius grins. "Okay then. 'Accio Firewhiskey!'" he says and flicks his wand. I roll my eyes while he pours several hefty shots of the amber liquid into glasses that hover in the air before he sends them to everyone with a wave of his wand. "So…You were fighting against him? Voldemort?" Sirius asks from me as he sips his drink.
Must he utter that fucking psychopath's name? I swear to Merlin he's doing it just to rile me up.
"What an astute observation, brother." I say with a snide curl on my lip.
Sirius looks exasperated while Dumbledore and Lupin exchange a meaningful look.
"You gonna help us then? To finish him?" Sirius presses on.
I can feel everyone staring at me intently. Do I really have a choice in the matter? "It seems like that, yes." I reply eventually and take a sip of my drink. The Firewhiskey burns wonderfully, warming my insides.
"Brilliant." Sirius says simply, pouring more alcohol into his tumbler.
Dumbledore clears his throat. "Am I right to assume Voldemort wouldn't be overly delighted by the news of your existence?" He asks and watches my reaction carefully.
What is it with these people, uttering his name as if he is someone insignificant? Although, I do see the appeal in it; not making a big deal of a name. I'm sure the Dark Lord would be quite unhappy if he knew.
I smirk inwardly and I nod. "Well, I'm sure the Dark Lord would be overly delighted for having the opportunity to rip my head off." I say dryly.
Dumbledore puts his drink on the table, untouched. "Then may I suggest that you stay here, in Grimmauld Place, and not leave the house in any circumstances. If Voldemort finds out about you and the fact that you haven't aged a day since 1979, he will be particularly interested and most likely would want to use the information for his gain." The old man says, and I scoff.
A house arrest? Really? I can do magic, to disillusion myself, or to disguise myself. But then I remember I don't exactly have a wand on me. I sigh. "I suppose I don't really have any options here." I grumble.
Dumbledore seems satisfied. "You and I have some matters to discuss, Mr. Black." He says vaguely to me, and I give him a curt nod.
I know exactly what he wishes to discuss. Sirius eyes us with suspicion but says nothing.
"We will organise an Order meeting in a few days, into which you may participate if you are willing. That being said, I would like to speak with you before the meeting and go through some important topics." Dumbledore says, and I nod in agreement.
Fuck, really? I'm going to participate in an Order meeting? As in the Order of the Phoenix? The secret society, which by the way is not that secret they were hoping for. Yes, we know all about them. Or the Dark Lord knows. He apparently has a spy inside the Order. At least, that was what I learned some time ago. Some time indeed…
"He has a spy amongst your group, did you know that?" I ask, because, well, if I'm going to be near these people, I have to know I'm not ratted out to my former master.
Sirius and Lupin exchange a grim look. Dumbledore nods before he speaks. "We are aware. He's not with us anymore, and instead has opted to fully join Voldemort."
Oh. "Who is he?" I ask curiously. Based on the looks the others give each other I assume they know the spy well.
"Pettigrew." Sirius growls.
I lift my brows in mild amusement, since…I'm not that surprised, really. I remember Pettigrew from school, and even though he was one of Sirius's friends, I knew he spent an awfully lot of time in the Slytherin dungeons as well.
Dumbledore clears his throat when he sees my brother becoming quite the moody himself. "Gentlemen, it is quite late, and I think each of us would like nothing more than to retreat for a good night's sleep. Mister Black," he says and turns to look at me, "I will come by tomorrow, and we can continue our discussion then. Can I rely for you to stay put until my arrival?" He asks as he prepares to leave, and his eyes flash at me with a warning.
I know what that means. I'm not to leave the house. I almost snort. Where would I even go, might I ask? But there is another message in his gaze, requesting me to stay silent. I know I am not to reveal the circumstances I was in before I came here. I suspect that Dumbledore wishes to learn everything there is to know, as I'm quite sure my memories gave him only a vague outline of the events. Based on the evasive way Dumbledore has spoken in front of the others, I doubt that neither my brother nor the werewolf know about the Dark Lord's secrets. And it seems like Dumbledore wants to keep it that way.
"I'll be here." I say, almost sarcastically. Dumbledore nods wishes his good nights, before leaving the room.
Sirius smirks. "Come on, brother. It can't be that bad. I'm in the same boat as you." He says, bitterness dripping from his voice as he leans towards the table and pours himself another drink.
I frown at him. "What do you mean?" I ask, glancing at Lupin, who stays silent, still sitting in his armchair.
Sirius barks a laugh. "Oh, Reggie…That's a long story
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