Sirius was on the bed when James pushed opened the door of his room. He was laying back-to, curled in a loose fetal position, his face turned down and pressed against the pillow beneath him.

"He's not dead, not dead... not dead... my brother isn't dead, he's not... you shut up, he isn't... I know what I saw... know what I saw, he isn't dead... He's alive. He's alive. I know he has to be.... my fault. My fault. I did it to him... me... What kind of brother... please..."

James slid inside and closed the door behind himself. The sound of it shutting made Sirius's body stiffen.

"Don't. Please Moony. Please don't... Please, I can't--" and he shook all over in a great shudder that tensed his entire body and pressed his face harder into the pillows. A noise that was just so inhuman came out from the very depths of him, muffled only by the pillow.

James didn't speak. Instead, he walked quickly across the room, climbed up onto the bed, laid down behind Sirius, and wrapped his arm around him, becoming the big spoon as he contoured exactly to Sirius and pulled his mate closer.

"James?" Sirius whimpered, smelling him.

James took his glasses off and tossed them aside, then pressed his face against Sirius's shoulder. "Yeah, it's me."

Sirius clung onto James's arm, pulling it up across his chest so James's hand was under his cheek and he breathed the smell of his palm.

James lay holding Sirius, silent but speaking a thousand words.

Regulus woke up and found the light was fading in the sky, though when he looked up it was to find he was under an umbrella, which was magically suspended overhead. Krecher was in a ball on his lap, curled up tight, his giant ears wrapped around himself like a couple of blankets.

His face smarted something awful and his tongue felt again the jagged broken edge of what remained of his front tooth. He was sore all over, and having slept there in the garden against a brick wall was not exactly the best way to have eased any of the pain inflicted by the Dark Lord and his friends. He winced with even the slightest motion.

Kreacher stirred as Regulus did, and seeing his Master awake, the elf scrambled to his feet, "Master Regulus needs Kreacher?"

"Yeah, Kreacher..." Regulus murmured. He groaned as he sat up a bit more. The sky was darkening rapidly. He needed to make it safe to go inside the house, rather than just hanging about in the garden like this... "I need you to - to get me my wand."

"Kreacher can do it for his Master," Kreacher nodded. "Where has Master Regulus left his wand, and Kreacher will go to fetch it."

"I left it in Sirius's flat, in East London. I believe it was in the kitchen, maybe on the counter... I think I put it down when I was cracking eggs this morning before breakfast. But they might have moved it. Just... hop over there and find it, alright?"

Kreacher nodded, "Kreacher will find it! Kreacher will get his Master's wand."

"Best not to be seen, Kreacher," Regulus added, thinking of how Sirius hated the house elf. He'd go over after he'd fixed the charms on the house and see Sirius - surely his brother and the others were worried about him, with the abrupt departure and all, but no use getting Sirius worked up at the sight of the elf. And Kreacher certainly didn't deserve being yelled at either.

"Yes Master Regulus," Kreacher said, and he disappeared.

Regulus struggled to get up, careful not to kick any of the little stone piles that filled the garden. He looked 'round at the little memorials Kreacher had built and felt the sadness sink in again. Reaching into his pocket, he found the Christmas ribbon that had been stuck on to the top of the package his watch had been in. It was a bit crumpled from having been in his pocket, but it was shiny and red and it was from his brother, and even though it was rubbish to most people, it meant something to him. He lay it gently on the grave with the roses that was Kreacher's mum's.

He turned and looked about. There wasn't any gate or door that he could see, likely it was somewhere under all the ivy and moss that had over taken the walls of the garden, and to find it would be to tear up all the fauna, and would ruin the elf's garden, so Regulus looked for another way out. Unfortunately, the elf's little tunnel behind the grate would be too small to squeeze through.

Looking up, he could see the side of Number 12 on one side and Number 11 on the other, far up on the third floor was the bedroom window that belonged to Sirius's room, nothing but brick all the way down. He remembered the year that Sirius had been expelled, how Mother had said Sirius escaped out the window, but he couldn't see how. How had Sirius done it? Had he dropped three floors and somehow made it all that distance? There wasn't any footholds or ledges or anything, just brick all the way up. At least Number 11 had a drain pipe and down a bit further, beyond reach of where he stood, a rickety metal fire escape.

There was nothing to it. Regulus would just have to wait there in the garden for Kreacher to return. He wondered what was taking Kreacher so long.

His Dark Mark suddenly lit up again, white hot and searing and he gasped, balling his fist and inhaling sharply. The Dark Lord was calling his followers to himself. Regulus hated to think how angry Voldemort must be - what with the humiliation that he himself had caused, and only to escape from him in the end? Of course he would want to make a power move. Someone would die for what Regulus had done, someone would bear the punishment he himself had escaped.

That thought set a pit in his stomach.

Hatred welled up in Regulus, and a new determination filled him. He would destroy Voldemort's horcrux, whatever it took. He would figure out what the old bastard had stored his soul in and he, Regulus, would seek it out and he would destroy it, and then he would go and tell James and Sirius and Remus and Lily and the four of them would go together and find Voldemort and kill him. Together.

He paced, and his mind set to recalling all he knew from Cadmas Peverell, and wished he knew more about horcruxes, wished he could figure out how and where to learn more on them - there must be more information somewhere. If Voldemort learned of it, then he, too, could, if only he could find Voldemort's source for it.

CRACK!

Regulus nearly jumped out of his skin when the elf reappeared suddenly before him, Regulus's wand clutched in his fist. Kreacher held it up to him. "My Master's wand." He bowed.

"Thank you Kreacher," Regulus said, taking it. He felt a bit of relief the moment it was in his hands again. Never would he put it down again, he vowed to himself, he would never put himself in such a situation again, of helplessness. And his first two orders of business would be protecting himself against that very thing. "You weren't seen, were you?"

"No Master," Kreacher said, then he said, "But Kreacher was hearing the Mudblood Girl talking when he was there... Master's wand was in the living room, and Kreacher had to fetch it and not be seen, so Kreacher was under the couch and Kreacher heard the filthy Mudblood girl talking to Master Sirius's halfbreed mate  and they was fighting, Master Regulus. They was fighting about Kreacher's Masters."

"You will call them Lily and Remus, please, Kreacher." Regulus's brows knit with concern. "About Sirius?"

"And about Master Regulus."

"What about us? What did you hear, Kreacher?"

Kreacher's ears flattened. "They think Kreacher's Master Regulus is -" he whispered the last word, "dead."

"They do? Scheiße! Sirius must be worried out of his mind." He wondered if he ought to be going to the flat first before he fixed the security charms on the house; if Sirius was in a right state then -

"They was arguing about whether Master's body was the one at the Ministry."

Regulus's mind shrieked to a halt. "What?"

"Kreacher heard them talking and Master Sirius went to the Ministry to identify a body, Master Regulus, and the Ministry told Master Sirius it was Master Regulus. Remus said that Master Sirius did not believe, and the m-- Lily, she said somebody might have transfigured a body to be like Master's, but Remus thought it would not be possible. He said Master Regulus was dead."

Silence hung between them. Regulus felt hot and cold and shaky all at once. He needed to think about this, he needed to think before he acted. Despite everything in him screaming to go to the flat immediately, he knew he had to think before he moved. How could there be a body?

Except Maryrose had been there. Somehow she had been there - really been there, not just her voice but her actual being, in flesh, and Kreacher had seen two Reguluses... but he couldn't puzzle out how any of this could be. Except for one thing.

When she had died in the library, when Voldemort had made him, Regulus, kill her, Regulus had fallen to the floor... he could still smell the carpet and feel the dizziness that had overtaken him...

Regulus lay on the carpet, shaking, a mess of nerves and pain, sobbing, closing his eyes for the first time. He had kept them open the entire time, until the light left them, but now -  Now he couldn't look at her again. He shook, forehead to the floor.

Voldemort stepped from behind him, right around him... walked across the floor... and -- And when Regulus looked up - Maryrose was gone.

She had vanished.

Regulus always thought it had been the Dark Lord that had done it. But what if Mopsus had taken her? What if it was Maryrose - with her precious seconds - that had come and whose body now lay in the Ministry?

He felt dizzy.

"Kreacher, take us to the kitchen."

"Yes Master." Kreacher held out his hand for Regulus's - then paused, seeing the ribbon on the ground. "Master Regulus has given Kreacher's mother a trinket."

"Huh?"

"Master's given Kreacher's mother a gift."

"It's just a Christmas bow," Regulus said, flushing. "From my birthday present. If I had more, I'd have left something better."

Kreacher's eyes were full of tears. "Master is so kind to Kreacher. And to Kreacher's mother."

They stood there in silence a moment, Kreacher staring awestruck at the crumpled red bow.

"Kreacher... please, the kitchen," Regulus reminded him.

"Yes, yes Master. Kreacher is sorry, Kreacher will burn his toes for delaying in obeying Master!"

"Don't burn your toes, Kreacher. Just bring me to the kitchen."

"Kreacher will do as Master says." Kreacher took Regulus's arm and with a crack and a rush, they were standing in the kitchen at Number 12.

Regulus stood still, listening for any noises in the house, but it was still and empty. He sank onto one of the bench's at the table, overwhelmed, mind racing.

"Kreacher will make Master Regulus dinner," the elf announced, and he hurried to the cupboard, and there was ingredients and frying pans flying about in seconds, so Regulus ducked a big pot as it swept past his head.

"Thank you, Kreacher," he murmured. Then he stood up. "I will be in Mother's library."

"Yes Master Regulus," Kreacher called as he worked.

Regulus went into the foyer and found the stairs were back in place. Last time he'd been here, Walburga had disappeared the last flight of them to slow down Greyback. He climber them, stepping instinctively around the creaky ones as he'd always done, and he hesitated at the landing outside the library, listening closely for any sound. Nothing but Kreacher's pots and pans could be heard anywhere, so he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

He stepped over the place in the carpet where Maryrose had lay before her body vanished and his breath caught for a moment. He looked around the room, at the family tree and the scorch marks upon it that had been blasted off by his Mother - including the place where Sirius ought to have been, and he saw the empty vase where the roses usually sat - the roses that were now rotting away in Kreacher's garden. He looked at the old clock on the mantel and the books that lined the shelves.

Suddenly he realized that horcruxes were dark magic. Of course they would be listed in dark magic books. He had never thought to look in the books at his own house! He felt suddenly absolutely certain that he would find exactly what he needed to know right there on that shelf.

Perhaps, he thought, the gift Maryrose had given him in her precious seconds was the opportunity to have life himself after a sort of death - time without the Dark Lord chasing after him. Time to focus, time to find the horcrux and to destroy that bit of Voldemort's soul.

He took a deep breath and rolled up his sleeves. It was time to do the hard but necessary things.