"No, that's too long," Snape said firmly, cutting her off. "The moment we step outside, you go straight to fetch him. I'll wait at the alley's entrance for five minutes, Narcissa. Not a second more." He had no intention of giving her any chance to back out, stall, or set a trap.
A flicker of struggle and worry crossed Narcissa's face. Going to the Black family home to retrieve Regulus right now meant they'd have no time to prepare properly. But seeing the unyielding look in Snape's eyes, she knew there was no room for negotiation.
"Fine," she said through gritted teeth, nodding reluctantly.
With the matter settled, the tension in the air eased slightly.
"What about Sirius?" Snape asked casually, as if making small talk. "After he and his friends abandoned the Founders' Ship and returned, how's he been? Has he gone back to the Black family to play the rebellious son?"
At the mention of Sirius, Narcissa's face twisted with disgust and cold indifference.
"Him?" she said icily. "He's no longer a Black. The moment Sirius's name was burned off the family tapestry, I stopped caring where he's hiding or what filthy business he's up to."
"Oh?" Snape responded noncommittally, pressing further. "And what about the others who came back with him? Particularly that Muggle-born Peter Pettigrew, the timid little Gryffindor who always seemed to shrink in on himself. Any word on him?"
"It's odd, now that you mention it," he continued. "His name didn't appear on the list of those sent to Azkaban in the Daily Prophet."
Narcissa frowned, the name barely registering, if at all.
"Sorry, Severus," she said, thinking for a moment before shaking her head. "I know nothing about his whereabouts. Not on the Azkaban list? Then either he wasn't important enough to be locked up, or…" She shrugged, dismissive. "He slipped through the cracks?"
"Is that so?" Snape mused, almost to himself. "How curious…"
Narcissa didn't respond. She had no interest in Wormtail's fate.
They fell silent.
Snape dispelled the protective charms around them, and Narcissa beckoned the waiter, paying for their drinks with Muggle money.
Without another word, they stood and left the Leaky Cauldron, stepping one after the other into the narrow, damp-smelling gloom of Knockturn Alley.
At the alley's entrance, Snape tucked his bulky frame into the shadow of a jutting wall, his wand already in hand, concealed within the sleeve of his oversized Muggle coat. His sharp eyes scanned the bustling street beyond and the eerie stillness deeper within the alley.
Narcissa hurried toward the other end of the alley, her figure quickly vanishing from Snape's sight.
Time ticked by, second by second, and Snape stood ready for any sudden threat.
Less than three minutes later, a soft pop echoed through the alley.
Narcissa reappeared, and beside her stood a pale, lanky boy with dark hair. Regulus Black kept his head bowed, his body trembling slightly, his eyes darting nervously, like a child waking from a nightmare. When he caught sight of the stranger in the shadows, he flinched visibly, instinctively stepping behind his sister.
Clinging tightly to Regulus's hand—or rather, gripping his arm—was a house-elf. This was an ancient creature, his skin sagging as if it were several sizes too large for his frail frame. He wore nothing but a pristine white towel wrapped around his waist, and the tufts of white hair sprouting from his ears looked like fluffy cotton.
Kreacher's large eyes peered over his bulbous nose, fixing Snape with a wary, anxious stare.
Snape's gaze shifted from the skittish Regulus to the elderly house-elf clutching the boy's arm.
"What's this? An extra?" he asked, looking at Narcissa.
"My aunt and uncle were worried about Regulus leaving home so suddenly without anyone to look after him," Narcissa explained quickly, glancing at Kreacher, who was trying to shield Regulus with his small body. "Kreacher's been with him since he was a child. He knows him best. Let him come along. Besides," she added swiftly, "you can put him to work."
"Kreacher's very capable and won't be any trouble. His French onion soup is utterly authentic, the best I've ever tasted. His Wiltshire-style stew is a marvel, and his treacle tart and steak-and-kidney pie? Even the pickiest wizard would have nothing but praise."
"We already have enough house-elves on the ship to handle meals and chores," Snape said, unmoved, shaking his head. He wanted to see what else Narcissa—or the Black family—might offer.
He glanced at Kreacher's cloudy eyes. The old elf met his gaze briefly before submissively lowering his head.
Narcissa faltered, then tried a different tack. "Severus, do you… need Galleons? The Black family could provide support…"
"Galleons? Please," Snape interrupted with a derisive snort. "We don't need your pocket change. If you want to offer something useful, how about keeping your promise and taking me to see the Malfoy family vault at Gringotts? That would be far more interesting." He reiterated their earlier agreement, turning it into a sharper, more immediate condition.
Narcissa nodded calmly, her eyes signaling him to say no more.
Satisfied with her response, Snape said nothing further. He extended a thick arm toward Regulus.
Narcissa gently pushed her brother, who was still frozen with unease, forward by the shoulders.
"Go, Reg," she said softly. "Stay with this gentleman. Be careful and keep yourself safe."
Regulus seemed to snap out of his daze at her touch. He turned, giving Narcissa a long, intense look before nodding firmly. Taking a deep breath, he tightened his grip on Kreacher's hand, mustered his courage, and stepped toward Snape.
Kreacher followed closely, his small frame doing its best to shield Regulus.
Snape watched the pair approach, his expression unreadable. Bypassing the elf, his heavy hand clamped down on Regulus's thin shoulder. Kreacher gasped nervously.
"Goodbye, friend," Snape said, glancing at Narcissa. Her gaze lingered on her brother for a moment.
The trio vanished from the dim alley in an instant.
The next moment, they appeared beside an unfamiliar lake. Its waters shimmered under the evening breeze, and the air was crisp and cool.
The disorientation of Apparition made Regulus stumble, but Kreacher steadied him quickly.
Regulus straightened, looking around curiously. "Sir," he asked, taking in the serene scenery, "is this… where the real Hogwarts is?" He seemed to think he'd been brought to a secret entrance to the castle.
Snape didn't answer immediately. He released Regulus's shoulder and stood before him.
Under Regulus and Kreacher's bewildered stares, his pudgy Muggle face began to writhe and melt like wax, his bones emitting faint cracking sounds as his figure stretched and slimmed.
Within seconds, a face Regulus knew well emerged.
"Severus?!" Regulus gasped, stumbling back and nearly tripping over Kreacher. "It's you?!"
Snape adjusted the now-oversized sleeves of his Muggle coat.
"What?" he said. "Didn't Narcissa tell you who you'd be meeting?"
"No, she didn't," Regulus said, shaking his head in confusion. "Cissy just told me to follow a trustworthy gentleman who'd take me to the real Hogwarts, a safe place."
"Well, I'm certainly trustworthy. Her assessment was spot-on," Snape said with a wry smile. "Compared to letting you stay at that 'internship' until you break or get dealt with, coming with us is indeed your safest bet."
"Now, Mr. Regulus Black," he continued, "hold out your left hand."
Regulus flinched at the mention of the "internship" and "dealt with." At the request for his hand, he instinctively hid it behind his back, a flash of fear crossing his face.
But under Snape's not-entirely-gentle gaze, he hesitated before slowly extending his left hand.
Snape seized his wrist, pulling up the sleeve to reveal the ghastly Dark Mark etched into Regulus's forearm.
"Don't touch that, Master Regulus!" Kreacher let out a shrill cry, lunging forward to intervene but freezing under Snape's sharp look. The elf wrung his towel anxiously, whimpering softly.
Regulus watched Snape nervously, uncertain of his intentions.
"We need to deal with this particular tattoo," Snape said, staring at the Dark Mark. He pulled a thick piece of parchment from his pocket. "I'm willing to believe you're remorseful, Regulus, but this isn't about my personal trust in you."
"That trust isn't enough for me to risk the safety of dozens of students on the ship. I won't gamble with their lives." He met Regulus's eyes. "This thing is a dangerous tracker and summoning beacon."
"Relax," Snape said, placing the parchment over the Dark Mark, covering the skull-and-snake design. He pointed his wand at it, murmuring complex incantations as soft light flowed from the wand's tip, seeping into the parchment.
Kreacher edged closer, ears rigid, eyes locked on Snape's wand, ready to pounce if he sensed any harm to his young master.
As the magic took hold, the parchment's edges softened and stretched, melding with Regulus's skin like a living thing. Its color shifted, blending seamlessly with his natural skin tone.
Moments later, the parchment had become part of his skin, concealing the Dark Mark. To the untrained eye, it was merely a patch of slightly darker skin with a unique texture.
"Now you can't touch it," Snape said, lowering his wand and inspecting his work with satisfaction.
Regulus raised his arm, examining it under the dim light. The covered area felt slightly foreign, the skin taut.
He looked at Snape, his eyes questioning.
"Don't worry," Snape said, pocketing his wand. "It's not permanent. I'm not like your dear brother Sirius, slapping Permanent Sticking Charms on Muggle bikini posters. This is just a cover, removable when needed."
At the mention of Sirius, Regulus's eyes flickered.
"So…" he asked hesitantly, "is Sirius… with you?"
"He's gone his own way," Snape replied. "Now, next step. Empty your pockets. Everything—wands, trinkets, letters, keepsakes. All of it."
Regulus blinked, then obediently began pulling items from his robe. Kreacher hurried to assist.
"We didn't bring much," Regulus said, handing Snape a bag embroidered with the Black family crest. "We packed in a hurry."
Snape opened the bulging bag, revealing hundreds of Galleons. Frowning, he examined each coin with his wand, checking for any magical traces beyond the Goblins' anti-counterfeit charms.
Satisfied, he tossed the bag to Kreacher. "Hold onto that. It's your master's pocket money."
Next, Snape picked up a small, square mirror.
"It's a two-way mirror," Regulus explained. "The other one's with my mother. It's so we can… talk, know each other's safe." His voice softened, then he added, "She borrowed it from Uncle Alphard, even though they haven't spoken in ages…"
"I'll hold onto this for now," Snape said, slipping the mirror into his robe. "No unauthorized communication on the ship. If you need to use it, come to me. I'll supervise. Understood?"
Regulus's eyes dimmed with disappointment, but he nodded. "Understood."
————
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