It was musty, but considering other much less pleasant aspects he'd recently found himself in, Frank considered it a blessing that was the first thing to register as he peeled himself off the floor.

They were in someone's bedroom, sparse on details but for the light brown bedspread neatly done up. At least it was spacious, even the eight of them in here, while a crowd, didn't feel too cramped, but the lack of use made what could be a homey place feel abandoned. Frank had landed right next to the slightly ajar closet door, and a quick peek inside revealed little clothing but lots of hangers. A quick look at Alice showed her by the window, a very nice second story view looking down on what was supposed to be a busy street below. As usual there were no pedestrians in sight, all available stores vacant. His girlfriend was tracing a shape on the windowsill, where clearly something was usually stored.

Before he could voice the question, Pettigrew blurted out, "what are we doing here?"

"You know this place?" Evans asked in surprise, gingerly getting off the bed she'd landed on and inspecting surroundings with a little less hostility. At least someone familiar with their location didn't seem to warrant scrutiny of another monster about.

"Well I should hope so," the elder Black snorted with the same look of surprise, but slight amusement as well. "Apparently whatever magic's running this cockamamie problem ran out of places to dump is, so it went with his room."

"Ah," Frank muttered in understanding, a sudden chill passing over him as he again inspected Pettigrew. He looked like a lost lamb more than anything, staring vacantly out the window with clear displeasure at something. He wondered what it must feel like to just be dumped in your home with no warning, and the place was empty of everything you knew. All of your things still back at school waiting for you, no family or anyone else to greet you. Ghost like, he'd imagine, and not nearly as friendly as Nearly-Headless Nick.

Lupin gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile, saying, "I'm sure everyone will appear right back where they're supposed to once we get this all over."

"Yeah," he muttered without looking at any of them, walking past to get to the door. He tried it, and to all of their surprise it did open. Potter immediately darted off with ease for a bathroom while his other three friends trailed down the stairs. Alice and Lily joined him in the small hallway, where only one other door led off. Regulus stayed right where he was in the room.

They shuffled awkwardly for a moment, unsure what to do. Frank felt the compulsion to speak to the younger Black. They were all still reeling from the revelation of You-Know-Who's true self, but none more so than one who'd made it clear he was to be a follower. All of them had witnessed his brother try to get something out of the lad, but with no reaction from him none of them felt they could do better. It felt heartless to just leave him alone now though, when he looked even more lost than the boy who was forced to wonder about his home in this state. Frank changed his mind and went back in the room, tapping him gently on the shoulder.

"I'm going to find the book and read it downstairs, feels a little rude to read this in Pettigrew's room. Care to join us?"

His eyes were a solid black, Frank had never noticed. Like Snape's and Hagrid's, a rare trait to be sure, they were the most distinguishing thing from his otherwise copied visage of Sirius. Instead of the proud, even arrogant posture the two so often held in opposition to each other, they just looked empty now, as vacant as the room around them. He nodded though, and slowly got to his feet while Frank spotted the book under the pillow.

It wasn't real surprise to see that it had changed. Now it was a dark royal purple in color, with an innocent black 3 inlaid all the warning they were given.

Alice led the way out, and after only a little hesitation, Regulus hoisted himself to his feet and followed. The dark, twisted thoughts spiraling through his mind were getting him nowhere. Did his parents know? Should he still care what they said now that everything in his life was a lie? Had Sirius known!? He'd seemed just as surprised as anyone, but what exactly had been his confidence then, before this revelation, that made him so sure-

He gnashed his teeth and kept following the others, pleading with his brain to stop tormenting him. He got a distraction even sooner by stepping into the kitchen.

Here things were much more clearly looked after, the scuffed floor having the gleam of fresh cleaning, the stove still warm and the smell of a large turkey wafting free, wasted upon the floor. Pettigrew was kneeling beside it, hand outstretched as if to catch the roasted bird. He was surprised for a moment, they'd heard no crash, but then understanding settled.

The fear of what had happened to the rest of their school, to humanity had dulled slightly as they grew accustomed to this topsy-turvy world of flashing through time and space hearing of their future through some book. Now here Pettigrew was, faced with the very real awareness that whoever should be here at his home no longer was. A whole new round of questions penetrated Regulus' mind; were his parents gone too? The Dark Lord? Did any of this even matter if everyone else was really gone forever? What if-

Sirius cleared his throat sharply, and Regulus was extremely grateful for the distraction. "She'll be alright Pete," it never failed to surprise him his brother spoke with more calm familiarity to his friends than anyone Regulus knew. "Soon as we're done with this, she'll be right back here tisking at herself."

"Right, yeah," he spoke so quietly the words were hardly noticeable, he remained in his squatted position, eyes unmoving from the meal. With no prompting he blurted out, "she, it's Friday, or was, right? She, always makes turkey sandwiches for the neighborhood, lasts us all weekend while she hems up-" He stopped as abruptly as he'd started, eyes darting desperately to his friends, the panic restricting him so bad Regulus swore his throat was convulsing.

"We know," Potter promised, giving the food a light tap with his wand. Nothing seemingly changed. "Now it'll be good till she manages to get to that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah of course," he agreed, still twisting his fingers and not even flinching when Frank shifted awkwardly for a few moments more before beginning to read. None of them really even cared about something as mundane as Owl Post to ask why that would be a chapter title.

At first it was nothing but depressing recap of what they already knew of Harry's life, as if they could have forgotten such a thing honestly, and some tripe about his homework. Nothing at all really happened until Harry's presents arrived. Thirteen and finally getting the simple joy of someone selecting a gift for you on your birthday. It made Regulus realize just how alone he really felt.