Regulus sat in the stiff backed chair in McGonagall's office, staring at his trainers. The room was dead silent, McGonagall sitting across the desk, staring at Regulus so intently that he could nearly feel her gaze upon him. His heart beat heavily in his chest, ricocheting off his ribs.

McGonagall sighed. "It must run in the family, the propensity for mischief," she said, breaking the silence. "And the stubbornness about it."

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest.

"I could tell you a great deal of stories about the times that your brother, Sirius, sat in that exact chair wearing an expression very much like the sour one you've got on your face now..."

"I wasn't getting into mischief," Regulus said.

McGonagall shifted in her seat and looked at the fire, which raged in the fireplace. "You were supposed to be serving a detention, here in my office, and instead, on my way to go and fetch Professor Slughorn so that he might assist me in locating you, I find you hiding out at the end of a corridor, hiding in the dark."

"I was just standing there," Regulus said. "Is there a bloody rule against just standing in a hallway now?"

"Don't you be smart with me, Mr. Black," McGonagall said smoothly. She eyed him carefully. "No, there is not a rule against 'just standing in a hallway'. There is a rule about skivving off a detention to 'just stand in a hallway'."

Regulus looked up. McGonagall stared back. Their eyes locked in an unspoken stare-down. Regulus looked away. McGonagall had triumphed.

"What were you doing in that corridor?" McGonagall asked. "And do not say 'just standing there'."

Regulus hesitated. "Why don't you just give me a bloody detention and get it over with already?"

"Clearly I cannot trust that you will show up to them!"

"I will, I mean, I did -- I just -- got distracted," Regulus said. "I was right out there, in the corridor, nearly fifteen minutes early to the detention with you and then --" he paused, wanting to leave the man in the painting out of things altogether, "It doesn't matter what then. But I was early. That ought to count for something."

"You managed to get distracted between the corridor outside of my office door and actually knocking upon my office door?" McGonagall's voice lilted with disbelief.

Regulus said, "Well... yes."

"And what distracted you?"

Regulus leaned back.

"Mr. Black," McGonagall said, "I am trying to understand what happened, that is all. If you do not tell me, then I cannot understand, and if I do not understand then I cannot help you out of trouble."

Regulus's voice was sharp. "I don't need you to help me get out of trouble."

McGonagall's eyebrows raised.

"I don't care if I do get in trouble," Regulus explained in a smart tone, "I'm not telling you what I was up to - my business is my business - and you can kindly mind to your own."

McGonagall's face pinkened with anger and frustration.

Regulus felt a jab of guilt, seeing her flare up as such and he looked back down at his trainers. He wanted to apologize, but he didn't know how to without explaining about the man in the painting, which would lead to telling her what he had seen Voldemort do, which would reveal he was a Death Eater and certainly get him expelled unless he revealed his secret, that is. McGonagall was in the Order, he knew from James and the others talking at meetings the year before, before the Order had merged with the Resistance...

Oh what a relief it would be for even one person to know here at Hogwarts where his alliances were! Someone he could talk to, someone he could confide in, someone he could trust. He imagined coming 'round to McGonagall's office to share a plate of biscuits and a cup of tea like Sirius had bragged he had done many times before. McGonagall was severe and strict but Regulus had always liked her, despite the other purist Slytherins hatred of her. She was his second favorite teacher after Kettleburn, which was rather impressive seeing as he didn't particularly like the subject of Transfiguration.

He looked up, a resolve to tell her engulfing him, and was just about to open his mouth to speak the words when -

White hot, burning pain shot up his left arm and he had all he could do not to react to it. His fists clenched, as did his teeth, and he felt his jaw go as tight as he could possibly hold it. The dark mark was searing him, and the pain was making him dizzy, twisting his stomach and sapping him of his strength. Whatever had brought on this burning had to be mightily important, there was no excuses to ignoring this summons. Regulus felt sickened, worry and fear suddenly coursed through him. What could it be that was so urgent? He had to figure out how to get away.

"Are you alright, Mr. Black?"

"Yes," he only barely managed to get the word out, so clenched was his jaw.

McGonagall's brow creased with concern, "Are you certain that you're -"

"So what's on, then? Am I serving the rest of this ridiculous detention now or am I serving it another night?" Regulus demanded, the burning of the dark mark only heightening the edge to his voice, "I have classes in the morning you know, and if you expect me to Pay Attention in them then perhaps you ought not keep me here all blasted night."

Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched into a displeased pucker and she stood up very suddenly. "Three Saturdays, just after lunch, you will come to my office and serve your detentions then. I shall also be having a talk with your Head of House about this." She walked stiffly to the door and yanked it open angrily. "Go on then."

Regulus got up, his arm still raging white hot at the wrist, and he hurried to the door.

McGonagall was muttering to herself as she closed the door behind him, so quietly that it was scarcely a breath. But Regulus heard her. "So like his bloody brother, in all the wrong ways."

Regulus stared at the closed door, distracted from the pain radiating from the dark mark for a moment, aghast at McGonagall's words. His heart felt as though it were in his belly and sinking ever lower.

Numb, aside from the radiating heat of the mark, Regulus walked down the corridor, trying to keep his cool, clutching the arm of his uniform sleeve in his tightly wound fist. He found the tapestry Sirius had once dragged him behind, knowing there was a secret passage there, and needing the privacy. Looking left and then right, Regulus made sure there was nobody about, then ducked through and let the tapestry fall.

"Kreacher," he ground out the name.

Kreacher appeared and stood before Regulus, "Master Regulus calls for Kreacher?" the elf asked. The elf seemed more down than usual, his ears hanging down his back rather than out and to the sides like usual. But so great was the searing in Regulus's wrist that he barely took notice.

Regulus held out his arm, revealing the burning mark.

Kreacher nodded and reached out, closing his hand over the mark on his master's wrist and clicked his fingers, making them both disappear.

There was silence in the passageway for a long moment, and then -

"Whoaaaaa."

"For once, I agree with you, Dex. Whoa is right! Did you know it was possible to disapparate at Hogwarts?!" Wally asked.

"Lumos!" Ollie's wand lit. "It isn't possible to! Hogwarts a History says so."

"Well he's just done it, hasn't he?" Dexter said, still in amazement.

"Dunno how," Ollie said.

Wally paced about in the place where Regulus Black had been a moment before. "Perhaps this is a special disapparation place!" he suggested, "Like a loop hole!"

"I doubt it quite a lot," Ollie replied. "It would have been mentioned in Hogwarts a History if such a place existed."

"Of course it wouldn't have!" Wally argued, "They don't want just anyone knowing about it, do they? Need to keep it secret, where the spot is, don't they? Otherwise everybody would be using it!"

Ollie frowned. He hadn't thought of that.

"I'll bet Dumbledore comes here to do it all the time," Wally said enthusiastically.

Dexter snort-giggled.

"What?" Wally and Ollie asked at the same time.

"It's just that he's said that Dumbledore comes here to 'do it'."

"What are you, twelve still?" Ollie asked.

"You know perfectly well that I'm not," Dexter replied, "It's just funny."

Wally rolled his eyes (he actually found it funny too but Ollie's disapproval made him check himself). "Careful we don't kick you out of the DWO for being lame."

"Then you'd be just the WO," Dexter pointed out.

"Ironically," Ollie said, "That could be pronounced whoa."

"Whoa," Dexter said.

"Welcome to our late comer." Voldemort's voice was silky and dark, and the first thing Regulus heard when Kreacher apparated into the room where the Dark Lord had summoned them.

Regulus dusted himself off, feeling the eyes of the other Death Eaters present turn toward him. "Kreacher, you are dismissed for now," Regulus told him.

Kreacher nodded and disappeared.

Regulus rather would have preferred to keep the elf with him, as a comforter, but knew he could not. He was still soft and reeling from the encounter with the man in the painting and his near confession to McGonagall, though, and Kreacher's presence would have been so reassuring...

But then again, he realized, turning to look at the Dark Lord and to assess the situation at hand, perhaps nothing could ever be reassuring again.

It was pouring rain in East London, rattling the windows loudly and making the traffic loud and wet sounding outside. Remus was sitting at the table and reading the Daily Prophet, sipping a cup of hot ovaltine and enjoying the peace of the early morning before everyone (and by everyone, he meant Sirius) got up.

The banging on the door was sudden, and frantic, and Remus turned in surprise, lowering his paper slowly, folding it and putting it down beside his cup.
He took his wand and walked slowly across the flat, to the door and he listened as fists were slammed against the door. Carefully, he peered through the peephole, then lowered his wand and opened the door.

Regulus, soaked and disheveled looking, stepped into the flat. He was breathless and his hair hung against his forehead, rivulets running over his face, dripping from his nose and chin, his clothes clinging to his narrow frame. He was shaking - presumably from the cold.

"Inferi," he gasped, "Inferi, loads of --" Regulus coughed violently, his whole body jolted by the spasm of it.

"What the bloody hell is on out here?" James came 'round the corner in pajamas, and directly behind him came Lily, still tying her robes.

Remus was directing Regulus to the couch and thumping his back in an attempt to ease the coughing and spluttering. He waved a wand and a blanket wrapped itself about Regulus's shoulders.

"Inferi!" Regulus finally choked out around his coughing, "Loads and loads of them. In London."