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Regulus’s Vengence


Regulus’s triumph at the dinner table in keeping Severus Snape out of his head was an important one to him. In battling to keep Snape out that night, Regulus had realized exactly how to go about the operation of occlumency. He’d pictured his mind as a room filled with hundreds of thousands of photographs, each photograph a thought or a memory that could be rifled through, and if he didn’t keep the door on the room locked then people like Severus Snape could go right in and mill about and access all the stuff in there. But if he shut the door and locked it up tight, there was no seeing the photographs. He alone had the key to everything that was in the room. And so he left a few scattered thoughts and memories out, just to annoy Snape, but the majority of his things were packed away in the room and sealed, where Severus could never access them. They were his and his alone.

This made Regulus feel very clever indeed. He would smile at Severus Snape benignly, and Snape would stare at him with a cold expression that Regulus now recognized as the way his face looked when he was trying to have a look into somebody’s mind and all Regulus would leave out for him was a taunting phrase or two - just enough to let Severus know there was more to be seen, but that Regulus had conquered him and there was no way he’d ever get what it was he wanted. Severus’s lip would curl into a sneer and he’d turn away or leave the room or make some remark about arrogant people. These were the best - Regulus relished knowing he’d bugged Severus Snape enough to actually merit audible complaint.

But his brightest moment of vengeful glory came on an afternoon just two days after Regulus had figured out how to block Severus - on 9 January...




James was sitting at the Gryffindor house table in the Great Hall, waiting for Remus and Sirius to come from their Muggle Studies class and Peter to come from… wherever the hell it was Peter was at… and reading his Transfiguration textbook. He was mostly alone - there were a few errant Ravenclaws picking at the snacks that the house elves had left on the tables for the students to eat, and a couple people were doing homework, writing papers and revising for the O.W.L.s, which were now only a few months away and starting to seem more real - rather than just an imaginary threat that the professors were making up.

James glanced up and spotted Maryrose Jenkins at the Hufflepuff table, turned ‘round to face the Slytherin table, where Regulus was sitting. They were talking and James noticed Maryrose’s hair was that pretty teal colour that he’d liked so much.

Part of him wondered if he’d been an idiot to break it off with Maryrose the way he had. All for a chance at Lily Evans, a chance that now, thanks to Snape, he would probably never have. It made him sad to look at Maryrose - though it was nice to see that she’d got on okay in the end. She seemed happy enough talking to Regulus Black - laughing so hard her eyes crinkled as he smiled shyly at her from the Slytherin bench where he sat. James did wish that she’d gotten on with someone that wasn’t Regulus Black. He didn’t know much about Sirius’s brother, but Sirius sure as hell didn’t trust the kid and that was reason enough not to trust him for James, too.

He looked back down at his book for a moment before his eyes fluttered back up to the doorway of the Great Hall, where Severus Snape was just coming through, his nose crammed into a book. James put down the Transfiguration textbook he was reading and he grinned, sliding out of his seat, drawing his wand. He was planning to take the book he was reading - make it fly up and hit him in the face or something - but before he could wave his wand, Severus Snape turned and drew his own, sending a hex at James that wrenched his wrist and arm up behind his back, pulling tight so that his shoulder felt nearly out of socket. He let out a cry of flustered pain as Snape said, “Expelliarmus,” sending James’s wand into his own fist.

James glared up at Snape, doubled over to ease the pain on his shoulder.

“Why don’t you mind yourself and leave me alone?” Snape sneered, staring James in the face.

“That’s rich, coming from you. Mind myself and leave you alone! Like you did me at the park in Cokeworth?” James snapped.

Severus said, “You were meddling in things that weren’t yours to meddle in.” He glared very hard at James and he muttered, “I am aware Lily Evans is not a possession, you needn’t keep thinking that at me. However, she is spoken for. By me. You don’t need her like I do. You want her because she’s a challenge to you - because you hate not getting exactly what you want and she’s always denied you that. Now. If you want me to release the spell, you’ll tell me I’m right and that you’re spoiled and arrogant, and quite sorry for thinking of hitting me with my own book.”

James glanced up, wincing because turning his head put more strain on his arm, and asked, “How did you know what I was going to do? How do you do that?”

And Severus waved his wand, yanking James’s arm up harder and groaned and doubled even further over.

“I literally do not give a damn, Potter, if I rip it right off, so I would get to saying something before we end your Quidditch career… Captain.”

“You’re right, I’m spoilt and arrogant,” James forced the words out in a grunting voice, face screwed up in pain.

“And?” Severus pressed, raising James’s arm ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry!” James yelled - he could hear the ball of his shoulder thinking of dislocating. “I’m sorry! Bloody hell Severus, I’m sorry.”

Severus released him and James staggered backward as Severus flung his wand to his feet. “Very good. And as for how I do it - Potter, I’ll never tell. But do know that I will always be one step ahead of you.” And with that, Severus Snape turned and walked away, sweeping his robes about him and storming off toward the Slytherin table, flipping open his book once again.

James knelt to collect his wand from the floor, his shoulder smarting terribly. Severus Snape would pay for this, he thought harshly. He’d make him pay for it.

Suddenly a shadow passed over him and he looked up to see Regulus Black standing before him - so much like a miniature Sirius that it would be impossible to deny they were brothers. James stared up at him.

Regulus stared down. Then he extended his hand and James took it, reluctantly, and Regulus helped him up to his feet, reached forward and dusted the shoulder of James Potter, considering him a moment. Finally, he said, very quietly, “You want to know how he does it?”

James stared at Regulus. “What?”

“Severus Snape. How he knows what you’re thinking. Do you want to know how he does it?”

“You know about it?” James asked.

Regulus nodded. “Know about it… and I know how to stop it, too.” He studied James a moment. “And I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything I know about Severus Snape and the things he does.” Regulus paused to allow a moment of excitement pass over James’s face - an expectant sort of eagerness to his eyes. That’s when he knew he could have whatever he wanted from James in exchange for the information he now knew Regulus had. And so Regulus asked for the one thing he really wanted: “If you want me to tell you… then you’ll find a way to get Sirius to meet with me.”

“But --”

“I mean, I don’t give a damn if you know or not. You want something from me, I want something from you. I’ll tell you and Sirius both at the same time what it is that Severus Snape can do. Until then --” he looked ruefully at James, “I guess you’ll just have to act without thinking.” Regulus shrugged.

James frowned.

“See you about, Potter,” Regulus said, and he turned back to the Slytherin table, leaving James to weigh his options in private.

James turned back to the Gryffindor table.

He couldn’t help but glance back at Regulus as he lowered himself onto the Slytherin bench and resumed his conversation with Maryrose Jenkins. Regulus had one eye on him right back. James wondered whether Regulus was telling the truth - if he truly did know what Snape’s secret was. James arrived back at the house table and sat where he’d been before the whole incident started, and he opened his textbook, just to appear busy… though he and Regulus still had yet to break eye contact.

Was it possible that Regulus Black really did know? And if he did, what would be the motivation for telling James the truth? Was Regulus really that desperate to talk to Sirius? About what? Surely it had to be important if Regulus was willing to trade what James assumed was rather important information about Severus Snape then whatever it was Regulus needed to talk to Sirius about must be worth quite a lot to him. James rubbed his shoulder, which still smarted, contemplating...

It was never really a question of if he would obey Regulus’s request so much as it was a how.




Everyday, Walburga Black had tried to comfort the girl. She had, after all, elected to take Lucy Minchum out of a whim of kindness. But the girl was frustrating. The girl was as pig-headed as her grandfather. Lucy refused to give in and would stone-cold ignore Walburga whenever she ventured upstairs. Lucy Minchum was curled into the corner of the bedroom - Regulus’s bedroom - where she was being kept. Walburga had originally intended her to stay in Sirius’s old bedroom, but she found that Orion had so completely destroyed the door on the bedroom the day that Sirius escaped from Number 12 that it would no longer lock, even when she replaced the door with a good reparo and set many locking spells upon it, the door just pushed opened. So it had been to Regulus’s room that Lucy Minchum had gone.

Eventually, Walburga simply went up, dropped off a tray of food and a pitcher of water, and left again without giving the girl so much as a hello. There was no point in trying.

Eventually, she simply sent Kreacher with the food.

And Lucy was terrified of Kreacher. The house elf was nothing like the spritely young house elf her family had, whose smiling face and joyful features made him seem friendly and happy. Kreacher’s features were old and twisted and mottled by time and his demeanor made him seem threatening and harsh. Whenever Kreacher came, Lucy squeezed her eyes shut and crammed herself deeper into the corner.

But today… Kreacher had a specific order.

He entered the room with the tray as he always did, closing the door with his wide foot. He put the tray onto the Gobstones table, which had stood empty since the day after Lucy arrived, when Kreacher had rescued the precious Gobstones set from Regulus’s room. He paused and picked up a little spoon from the tray, stirring up a cup of hot chocolate he’d made, and turned, hesitant, and walked over to the girl slowly.

“Kreacher is having hot chocolate for Lucy,” he said quietly, as gently as possible.

Lucy peeked at him.

“Kreacher has made Lucy the hot chocolate himself,” he murmured.

This was a first. Kreacher never made her hot chocolate. Tea, on Walburga’s orders, sure, but never hot chocolate. And usually his large ears were at attention but instead now he had them hanging low against his back. Usually his voice was rough and harsh and he called her the little brat under his breath, but now he was gentle and calling her Lucy. She stared at him in disbelief.

“Is Lucy liking hot chocolate?” he asked.

She nodded.

Kreacher put the mug on the floor and pushed it toward her, then backed up, as though nervous she might chuck it at him the way she’d done the teacups in the past. She looked at the mug. In it was the hot brown chocolate and three large marshmallows floated at the surface. It smelled so good, Lucy couldn’t resist. She unfolded her legs slowly and reached for the mug. When she drank some, it was so delicious and creamy… she felt as though she’d been transported directly to Heaven itself. She let out a low sigh of appreciation.

Kreacher watched her drink the hot chocolate for a moment, then he said, “Master Regulus said that Lucy might like the hot chocolate.”

“Who?” Lucy asked.

“Kreacher is following Master’s orders and Kreacher is getting Lucy the hot chocolate whenever Lucy would like it.” He turned back to the tray and started unloading the rest of it onto the table. “Kreacher is made meat pies. They is still being warm if Lucy eats them soon.” He put the plate down on the table. Then he paused again and he looked around, as though making sure Walburga wasn’t nearby and then he clicked his fingers and a book appeared in his hand. He looked back at her. “Master Regulus is suggesting Lucy might also like to read. This was one of Master Regulus’s favorite books when he was Lucy’s age.” Kreacher put the book down on the table. “Kreacher is leaving now. If Lucy is wanting Kreacher, she must say his name and he will come, yes, because Master has told Kreacher to come when Lucy calls Kreacher, now Kreacher will come when he is called by Lucy.” He bowed, flapping his ears slightly, and backed out of the room, carrying the tray under his arm.

Lucy sat in silence, clutching the mug of hot chocolate. Then, slowly, she got up and she walked shakily over to the little table. The food did smell delicious - more so than it usually did. Usually what Kreacher brought was a sort of sticky porridge that she ate out of desperation to make her belly stop growling… but this was actually appetizing, and she reached for one of the meat pies. They tasted just as good as they smelled.

As Lucy sat in the little chair at the little table, she wondered who Master Regulus was.