Regulus's heart was a mess. At school he was bombarded with questions from all four houses. Even several teachers had pulled him aside to inquire about his family's goings on. And Regulus had responded with all the vitriol and contemptuousness that had been bred into him.

"My family's business is no concern of yours," he'd insisted more than a dozen times since Halloween, throwing in an over-pronounced sneer for good measure. "And I'd suggest you learn to read a real publication and stop getting your information from so many gutter tabloids."

In truth, Regulus wasn't sure what he'd tell all these people even if he wanted to talk to any of them. He wasn't sure himself how he felt. In a moment of weakness, he'd left that key with his brother. Had Sirius found it? Moreover, did Sirius even remember what it went to? Regulus had been plagued by several nightmares in the following weeks, most of which involved his parents. Suppose Sirius's memories had already been too altered, and he no longer remembered the locked chest he'd always kept in the crawlspace above his closet?

If the black metal key no longer meant anything to Sirius, he might ask their parents what it was, assuming they'd left it to him. And if Walburga or Orion saw it…

Then they might piece together what Regulus had done. As preposterous as the possibility was, Regulus spent many morning mail deliveries shivering in fear, terrified that he'd receive a summons back to Grimmauld Place for his parents to punish him.

But weeks passed and Regulus heard nothing. Perhaps his plan had failed. Maybe his parents had found the key before Sirius had even woken up. They might just be waiting for Regulus to come home for Christmas to lay into him…

To make matters worse, Regulus's nerves were starting to affect his academics. Where before he had been a model student, excelling almost everywhere except for some regrettable hiccups in potions and history, now he saw his grades decline everywhere. He was even slipping up in his favorite subject, divination. It was on the pretext of talking about his grades that the headmaster called Regulus Black into his office on December 14, the night before the winter holidays were set to start.

"Regulus," Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "Please sit down."

Regulus fidgeted but eventually settled into the tall seat in front of the headmaster's desk. The back of the chair loomed so high above him that Regulus felt he might slip away completely. "Sir?" he asked politely. Regulus's parents had never had anything nice to say about his headteacher, calling him all manner of foul names at home. Yet Regulus had never experienced anything but kindness from the man and try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to hate him.

He was vaguely aware that Professor Dumbledore was the enemy of the Dark Lord, the man that Regulus had been trying to join ranks with, but the reality of that situation had never fully settled into Regulus's mind. He hadn't quite ever put two and two together that serving Lord Voldemort would have eventually meant harming Professor Dumbledore.

And now the Dark Lord was once again on Regulus's mind as he sat, shaking, in Professor Dumbledore's office. It was occurring to him that word might have reached Dumbledore about Regulus "joining" the Death Eaters (for who could really call tagging along after some of his cousins much more than a pathetic attempt to play grown up?). Was he about to be expelled? His mother had promised to keep him from legal harm, but Regulus doubted she would bother much with making sure he got to stay at Hogwarts. If Dumbledore threw him out then Regulus would probably spend his remaining years at Durmstrang, or be homeschooled...neither of which were things he wanted.

Regulus began to tremble quite violently.

"Mr. Black," Professor Dumbledore said gently. When Regulus didn't respond, he tried again. "Mr. Black!"

Regulus jerked from his reverie. "Sorry, sir," he said quietly.

"Regulus," Dumbledore said, fishing around in his desk drawers for a box of candy, which he offered to Regulus.

Regulus, unused to being on friendly terms with any teacher, took one of the sweets in sheer terror. Another worry began to rise in his throat...suppose he was in trouble for how he'd spoken to the students and teachers who'd pried him for information about Sirius?

"I'd really like you to stop worrying, Regulus," said Professor Dumbledore. "You're not in any trouble."

Regulus looked up. "I'm not?"

Dumbledore smiled. "You know I've always liked you, Regulus? You're—"

"A lot less hassle than my brother, yeah..." Regulus finished for him. He'd heard this speech before. Docile Regulus, never as exciting or interesting as Sirius. Always obedient. Always respectful. Never memorable. Not one to write home about.

Professor Dumbledore laughed and took a candy for himself. He unwrapped it slowly, staring at his own hands. "Alas, none of us is ever correct one hundred percent of the time."

"Huh?"

"Regulus, you misunderstand me. I was going to say that I like you because I consider you to be very brave."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "I think you might be confusing me with Sirius after all..." Sirius the Gryffindor. Sirius the brave one. Sirius the—

"I promise you, Mr. Black that I am not confusing you with anyone. I've known you for four years and that's long enough to have gotten a good measure of you. I know you are brave and I know you are intelligent. Which brings me to the first questions I wanted to ask you."

Regulus swallowed. "What is that, sir?"

"You must know that your dwindling academic performance has not escaped my notice?"

Regulus nodded, his head heavy. He was about to get in serious trouble. Maybe he would have to repeat a year. Oh, his parents were going to disown him. And unlike Sirius, Walburga Black wasn't about to jump in front of a dementor to reinstate Regulus.

"Several of your professors have expressed an interest in having you repeat this term's coursework after the holidays, pushing the final half of your academic year into the summer."

This was it...summer school? Regulus tried to tell himself it was better than being outed for being a Death Eater but he just couldn't...Sirius had always gotten such good marks. Were Regulus's parents even going to allow him to come home?

"But I have overruled their suggestion."

"Sir?" Regulus finally made eye contact with the headmaster.

"I think that...when everything has been factored into account, your teachers...and your parents," Professor Dumbledore laid a delicate stress on the word parents. "Will see that your grades are not really that desperate after all."

Regulus nodded. "T—thank you," he stuttered.

A silence fell as the both of them sat there, Dumbledore seemingly fascinated by one of his candy wrappers and Regulus desperately waiting for permission to leave.

"You are a good person, Regulus," Dumbledore suddenly said. Regulus started.

"Sir, I..."

"And you would never have gone through with any of it."

Regulus's breath froze. "I...I don't know what..."

Professor Dumbledore leaned forward, his gaze drilling a hole right through Regulus's heart. "I understand that you have been under tremendous pressure this last year, Regulus, and that your situation may not have calmed as much as others think it has. Things continue to be difficult for you, do they not?"

Regulus nodded. There was no use in lying. Professor Dumbledore knew. He'd been caught out. He could only hope that he wasn't about to be carted off to Azkaban. His mother might be willing to help him...but what an inconvenience it would be to have to come to his rescue. Suppose she changed her mind? Suppose that—

"And I just don't think that marching you through remedial classes or dragging your family through yet another legal fiasco would be good for your mental health. Don't you agree?"

Regulus's heart was trying to bludgeon its way out of his chest. "S—sir?"

Professor Dumbledore handed Regulus another piece of candy. Regulus's hands were shaking so badly that he dropped it.

"Please stop worrying, Regulus. As I've said, you'll likely be...pleasantly surprised when you see your grades next week."

"A—and…?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "I think it prudent that all of your records reflect your true abilities. I wouldn't want anyone to get a garbled version of you based on just this last semester or so..."

Regulus took deep breaths. Maybe everything would be okay. There was another long period of silence.

"May I...go?" Regulus asked shyly. The many whispering portraits on the walls of Dumbledore's office were starting to make him nervous.

"Not just yet. I'm afraid I have one more question to ask you."

Regulus nodded. His hands were shaking and his face was hot. He'd say anything to get himself out of that office.

"Regulus Black. Are you willing to do me a...favor?"

Orion Black awoke the morning of December 14 very confused. For a moment he was unaware of why he had even woken. A glance at his nightstand told him his alarm had not yet gone off, so…

Ah, movement. Orion rolled back and forth a few times before he realized he was being shaken.

"What are…?" A blinding candle was alight right in his face and he blinked several times, trying to focus on the shadowy face swimming around in front of him.

"Wake up, Orion," Walburga Black said. "It's finished."

Slowly, Orion sat up in bed as his wife busily lit the lights. Suddenly his bedroom was bathed in a soft glow and Walburga turned to face him again. There was an almost crazed light in her eyes. She was still in her day clothes and her hair was disheveled. There were circles under her eyes but a broad grin on her face. Orion had not seen her like this for quite some time.

"It is five-thirty in the morning," he complained.

"I'm finished," Walburga proclaimed again. "Orion...it's done."

It took Orion a moment to process what she was saying. "Do you mean Sirius?" he asked perplexedly. "But you said you still had six months yet to do...by god, you didn't try to tackle the rest of it in one night? Walburga!" he exclaimed, sitting up straighter. "You said yourself that doing too much at once was a recipe for disaster."

"I said it could be...if he wasn't up for it. But your son has gotten much stronger this past month. So much stronger...I needed to finish quickly," Walburga explained frantically. "And he slipped into such a calm state yesterday evening that I could see it all. Everything was laid out so clearly. The knots, the tangles, the confusion. All of it was gone. He was in perfect condition for what I needed to do, I couldn't waste that opportunity. And besides, today is the last day!"

"Last day?" Orion asked with a yawn. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not as if we can't send word to Regulus. Make up some excuse to have him stay on at that school another day or so..."

Walburga was fluttering about the room, urging Orion to get up and dress, which he did, albeit groggily. Equal parts excited and nervous, like a child on Christmas morning, Walburga pulled Orion down the hall, still muttering uncontrollably.

"He's in here," Walburga explained, stopping in front of Sirius's bedroom.

"Shouldn't he be downstairs in one of the other rooms?" Orion asked.

Walburga shook her head. "He'll awake with false memories," she explained. "Memories of being home and resting these last few weeks. If he awoke in the spare room, it would be confusing."

"Is this room ready for him?"

Walburga took a deep breath and nodded confidently. "As ready as it will ever be. I've gone through every minute detail. I've compared every photo on the wall with matching memories. I've double checked every letter, every possession. There shouldn't be anything that doesn't line up. If I've missed something then...then, it..."

Orion put a hand on her shoulder. "Then it will be such a minute detail that no harm will be done. You've been thorough, I'm sure. I'm just glad it's finished."

Walburga nodded again. "Would you like to see him?"

"Sirius?" Orion asked. Then he laughed. "You've not let me near him for weeks!"

"I know," said Walburga apologetically. "I got a bit wrapped up in things. Come inside. It's okay now."

"If you say it's allowed," Orion said with a smirk. He followed his wife into their son's room.

Sirius was indeed sleeping soundly—magically, Walburga explained. He would not wake for several hours yet. Orion marveled at how serene Sirius Black looked. Since that first morning when Orion had returned home to find a confused Sirius Black meandering around the house, he had only gotten a few glimpses of his oldest son, and they hadn't been pretty.

As Walburga had continued to work her magic on his mind, Sirius Black had slowly begun to fall apart, and as much as Walburga had nervously insisted that this was to be expected, it had worried Orion a bit. For weeks, Sirius had barely woken, had been unitelligible the few hours he'd been up. It had been nearly impossible to get him to eat anything and Orion had been awoken multiple times by Sirius's pained shrieking. Walburga insisted that Sirius had been up and about, lucid even, for at least a few days, but Orion had never seen it. It wasn't in his nature to worry, and yet...

"The mind can cause pain," Walburga had explained. "Like any other part of the body. Having this much intensive work done on it, there are going to be wounds that need to heal."

"Can you give him anything?" Orion had asked one night when Sirius's screams and ragged gasps had finally gotten to him.

"Would you have me do so? If I could?" Walburga asked slyly. Before Orion could answer, she'd continued, "there's nothing I can do, anyway. Anything that may calm him down would risk messing with my designs."

Orion hadn't brought it up again.

"He looks much calmer," Orion said, reaching a hand out to touch Sirius's shoulder. Sirius shuffled away from his touch, but otherwise didn't react.

Walburga smiled and rolled her eyes. "I told you," she said. "I'm done. I'm finished. He should sleep until mid-morning and then we can wake him."

"And he will remember nothing?"

"No," said Walburga softly. "He will remember what I've told him to remember."

Orion toyed with the trinkets on Sirius's nightstand. "And what exactly is that?"

Walburga smiled devilishly. "That he was ours all along. He came to regret his decision shortly after running away, and last year it hit a crescendo. He asked for his inheritance back. Went to your father directly, just weeks before the man died."

"And Halloween?"

"He was on his way to speak with us when he heard word from that friend of his that something was wrong. He stopped by their house to check on them and was greeted with...carnage." Walburga's eyes had narrowed and her words had become quite soft.

"It's all here," she added carefully, withdrawing her schematics from Sirius's desk drawer and waving them gently in Orion's face. "I'll be keeping these in my study. You should look them over. Preferably before he's up and about."

"So..." Orion trailed off.

Walburga approached his side and the both of them stared down at Sirius Black's relaxed form.

"He didn't do it," she explained. There was little emotion in her voice.

"Is that going to be a problem for us?" Orion asked calmly.

For a moment, Walburga was silent. Sirius shifted and burrowed deeper into his covers.

"Not unless we let it..."