Several Miles from the Sun

CHAPTER TWO: THE LAST BLACK

For a moment no one spoke. The only sound was Kreacher's happy weeping. The smell of rotten eggs faded, taking the black cloud with it. Regulus sat on the bed, his back stiff and his entire posture looking tensed, like a predator in an unknown surrounding. He looked young, perhaps in his early twenties, like he had barely lived. He was confused, though, that much was evident. He was only peripherally aware of where he was, why he was there, perhaps even how, but he definitely had no idea who they were.

All of a sudden Harry had his wand out and Ron took it as a clue to follow suit. Hermione crouched against the wall, trying to go unnoticed, drawing out her own wand as well.

Regulus Black, the Death Eater. Too much of a coward to follow through on Voldemort's orders. Sirius's description of him had registered in her mind. The problem was that Regulus didn't look frightened... or even relieved. He looked cocky.

And he, too, had his wand prepared.

"I haven't the slightest idea of who you young ones are, but I must thank you for bringing me back," Regulus said. He didn't stand--possibly wasn't sure he could.

"You weren't supposed to come back," Harry growled. "That spell was meant for someone else."

"Someone else?" Regulus asked, looking amused. "My dear boy, that spell is only meant for one, the last Black."

"Oh," Hermione said. She suddenly understood. They had assumed the last Black meant... Oh. "You knew!" she turned on Kreacher. "You knew we had the wrong idea!"

Kreacher gave a wicked smile--on him, it was diabolical. "Kreacher know," he admitted. "Kreacher had instructions from real master. Kreacher followed instructions!"

"Yes, you are a good house-elf, Kreacher," Regulus assured him.

It was disgusting to see how the elf's pasty green colour took on a reddish tinge.

"I don't understand," Ron said. His wand arm was trembling slightly.

"We--we thought the last Black meant the last living Black," Hermione explained. "But it wasn't! He... I don't know how, but he made the spell refer to the last Black of the line. Because neither he nor Sirius had any children, he is the last true Black in terms of genealogy. But it's not possible!"

Regulus gave her an approving look of sorts. "Intelligent witch," he complimented. "But what is all of this about last living Black?" His eyebrows suddenly rose in understanding and he gave a low chuckle. "Well, well, Sirius got his, didn't he?"

Harry lunged. Ron made a wild grab for his jumper and missed.

"Crucio!" said Regulus with ease.

"No!" Hermione cried. "Stupefy!" She wasn't quite sure who she was aiming for.

Harry managed to hit Regulus without even cringe. Hermione blinked. Ron rubbed his eyes.

"What the--?" Regulus stared at his wand. He shoved Harry off him. "Crucio! Crucio!" Nothing. Harry wrestled him to the floor.

"Harry, get off him!" Hermione pleaded. "Ron!"

Ron pulled Harry off. "Relax, Harry. Obviously something's faulty with the man, and it isn't just his brains."

Hermione looked at Regulus, who was glaring at the three of them. "Your magic isn't working," she stated.

"Thank you," Regulus growled. "I don't think I'd noticed."

"Somehow the spell must have stripped you of your powers," Hermione said pensively. "Or you just left your spells behind...wherever it is you where in the first place."

"You do notice we have a bigger problem than whether or not he can hex us to death, right?" Ron asked, still holding Harry in place. "The Order are going to have a fit when we explain this to them."

Regulus got up to his feet, lacking a certain confident elegance that Sirius had once had. "Who are you?" he asked. He looked at Harry, eyeing his scar with a certain curiosity.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, sounding like she meant it, "but until we can get Remus or someone else this really is for the best. Stupefy!"

Regulus fell back to the floor like a log.

*

There had been a slight hitch in their plans to communicate with Remus. It was mostly based on the fact that they didn't know where Remus was, much less how to contact him, but also the fact that they would have a lot of explaining to do over probably a lot more yelling.

Ron's father, for example, was doing quite a lot of yelling.

His mother wasn't really helping.

"YOU WENT WHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?"

"OF ALL THE STUPID, IDIOTIC, UNBELIEVABLE--"

"A TWENTY-FOUR HOUR WATCH, HARRY! AND YOU SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION BY--"

"LIED TO YOUR OWN MOTHER! AT THE TWINS', YOU TOLD ME! DO THEY KNOW ABOUT THIS? BECAUSE IF THEY DO I WILL--"

"I really am sorry," Harry tried to apologise. "But we have a bigger pro--"

"IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT! HERMIONE, I EXPECTED BETTER OF YOU!"

"We really are sorry, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said, feeling incredibly guilty. "But Harry's right, we do need to--"

"YOU'RE NEVER LEAVING THIS HOUSE AGAIN, RONALD! IF I HAVE TO TIE YOU TO THE SHE--"

"REPAYING DUMBLEDORE THIS WAY, HARRY! I HONESTLY WOULD HAVE THOUGHT--"

"What's all the screaming about?" It was Ginny, rubbing her eyes sleepily, dressed in an old green nightgown.

Hermione saw Harry blush and look at his shoes.

"Go back to bed, Ginny," Arthur Weasley ordered.

Ginny looked slightly hesitant at returning to her room, but upon seeing the way her mother was practically snorting fire, she shrugged and left.

"Dad, something happened," Ron said quickly. "We--we, you see--"

So they explained. Harry talked about the spell, Hermione told them her theories, Ron added the part about Kreacher being a rotten elf that should shove Mrs. Black's portrait in a part his mother didn't agree with. And they talked about Regulus.

Mrs Weasley had gone pale. She kept clutching the end of the table so tightly Hermione thought her fingers were going to snap off. Mr Weasley looked like a trout--his mouth simply refused to stay either shut or closed.

"This is serious business," he finally said, wiping his brow. "This has never happened before. If the Ministry finds out about this... Oh, what have you three done?"

Hermione felt herself flush as she stared at the china teapot. Mr Weasley was getting up, waking Bill, sending messages to the members of the Order. Mrs Weasley was--

Cleaning. Without her wand, and mumbling something about killing the twins, because it didn't really matter that they were in Diagon Alley all this time, it still was their fault.

"You three stay here," Mr Weasley said, pulling on his coat while Bill finished his cup of coffee. "I don't even want you to move from that table. We're going to go fetch Regulus. I'll have a good word with you later."

Ron yawned, Harry scratched his scar, and Hermione sank into her chair.

But none of them dared to head for bed.

*

It was past four in the morning when the Order returned with Regulus in tow. None of them spoke when they entered the Burrow, all eyeing the three sitting at the table with a series of looks, none of them pleasant. The last to come in was Remus, trailing behind Regulus, staring at the back of his head with a dark gleam in his eyes.

Hermione knew what it was. It was the same look Harry had. Why Regulus and not Sirius?

"Our situation has suddenly become very grim," Arthur said. "They have gone beyond the laws of magic and nature and brought back someone who was dead."

"I'm standing right here," Regulus said indignantly.

Arthur ignored him. "What you don't understand," he continued, staring at the trio, "is that these sort of black spells require even trade. Look at Voldemort and the state he's in. Even Dumbledore had to give in order to get. You've committed a serious crime and you've jeopardised your lives. It was irresponsible. You're lucky that he had been stripped of his powers, or you could have been killed."

"Still here," muttered Regulus.

"What are we to do now?" Arthur asked.

"Return him?" Ron said.

"Ron! He's not... not some sort of item we bought. That would be murder," Hermione said aghast.

"He was dead in the first place!" Ron argued.

"Hermione has a point, Ron," Remus said, speaking for the first time. "He's still a human, whether we want him to be or not."

"We can't let him out of our sight. He might go back to Voldemort," Tonks pointed out. "If anybody at all finds out he's alive, we're done for. Imagine what Voldemort would do if he knew there was a spell that could bring back any dead person."

"Not just any," Regulus cut in, "me."

"Spells can be modified," Bill said.

Regulus merely shrugged.

"Can't we bind him to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Risky. Hogwarts has already been infiltrated once. Not to mention that without Dumbledore it's no longer safe," Professor McGonagall said. She looked older now.

"What about Grimmauld, then?" said Ron. "It's Harry's, innit? No one can enter without his permission if we set up all the spells Dumbledore used."

There was a silence and Hermione noticed that Remus was staring at Regulus in deep thought. She failed to follow what he was thinking, and instead focused on Harry, who was trembling, not from cold or sleep but from fury, either berating himself for their stupidity or wishing he could curse Regulus for ever existing, or even possibly both.

Regulus, too, was a source Hermione found truly fascinating. Sirius's brief explanation of a younger brother could never have prepared them for him. If he was a follower, stupid and cowardly, then how could he have managed to construct such a powerful spell as one that could bring a man back from the dead? It was equally stupid, Hermione supposed, to say that he couldn't have, because the magical world was a marvellous thing, and even though they shouldn't have, there was really no limit to the laws of nature and magic. After all, Nicholas Flamel had constructed immortality, Voldemort had defied death and Severus Snape had managed to trick the greatest wizard of the past century.

"Hermione, Ron, I think you two should go up to bed," Remus finally said.

"What, and leave Harry alone?" Ron looked insulted at the mere suggestion. "We're all to blame for this."

"Go to bed immediately!" Mrs Weasley screeched, her face turning the colour of a tomato.

Ron and Hermione didn't dare disobey. Sneaking Harry looks of pity and comfort, they both left the small kitchen, dragging their feet in hopes of picking up conversation before they reached the stairs.

"Do you think we'll be thrown in Azkaban?" Ron asked before Hermione headed into Ginny's room.

"Don't be silly, they wouldn't do that," Hermione chided.

"What do you think they'll do to Harry?" Ron was trying desperately to stay awake, but his whole body indicated he was ready to collapse.

"I honestly don't know," admitted Hermione, and she went into the room before Ron could ask anything else.