Only the Brave

Chapter 58: The Weight of War

There are three stops on Regulus' tour tonight.

The first one was a visit to Fletcher, who agreed to help rather quickly and without asking any questions when Regulus dangled a pouch of money at him. In less than an hour—during which Regulus sat in a pub and drank a beer and had no less than three existential crises—Fletcher had come back with papers and a new identity.

After tomorrow, Elspeth Fawley will have died in the battle of Lestrange Castle and Elaine Ross will be on her way to Greece to find an Irene with unknown last name. It makes Regulus feel some kind of way to know that he's single handedly responsible for someone else's happy ending.

Like, it's a good thing. And he feels... proud of it. Elspeth helped him and she deserves to go find her love in Greece. But when he's spent so much time not feeling, even the good is overwhelming. Regulus feels like he's gagging on emotions that he can't sort. Things he can't name. Doesn't know how to process them. What to do with any of it.

And the worst part is that he doesn't have a lot of time to figure it out because there are people who expect him to talk to them. Give them answers. Regulus is paralyzed with fear just by thinking about it. He needs to find a way to be alright. To work through at least some of it if he's going to be able to function as expected of him.

So, once he has the papers, he steps out of the pub and apparates to his second stop on tonight's tour. Hogsmeade.

Because he's always been a cunning little shit, Regulus didn't give back James' invisibility cloak. He's kept it—temporarily only, he will return it—and he's using it now to make his way to Hogwarts through the tunnel Sirius showed him under Honeydukes.

It's late at night. Past curfew already. With the cloak over his head, Regulus makes his way steadily and without any issues from the statue of the witch at the tunnel's entrance to the second floor. Flashbacks assault him with every step. Being back in this school is both wonderful and painful. He remembers it all now. Some parts, he wishes he didn't.

His steps are soundless on the grimy tiles covering the floor of the bathroom. Regulus wouldn't be surprised if someone told him no one has been here in a year. It's rather sad. Perhaps he should have stopped to see Myrtle when he came to Hogwarts with Sirius in search of the locket, but Regulus had given up too much of himself to the darkness for that thought to even cross his mind back then.

Folding the cloak into a pocket on his light spring coat, Regulus purposefully scruffs a foot against the floor as he walks towards the wall where he spent so much time sitting and puzzling over horcruxes with Myrtle. The same floor he sat on and thought of having snuffed out the sun.

"Is someone there?" Myrtle floats out of her stall, face drawn into a sad grimace, and stops short when she sees him. "Regulus?"

"Hi Myrtle," he says, sitting down.

The smile that splits her face in two tugs at the guilty thread in his gut, unravelling it. Regulus focuses on that. On how he used to feel about Myrtle. Grateful for her help. Guilty that he was manipulating her. Mildly uncomfortable when she spoke of them as a couple.

"Oh, Rowena's locks, I cannot believe you are here," Myrtle exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand. "I've missed you so much."

"You know what? I missed you too," Regulus admits softly.

Myrtle lets out a sound of pure delight before floating closer, to hover right by his knees like she used to do before. "I'm so happy you are here!"

Sighing, Regulus lets the back of his head fall against the wall. There are cracks on the ceiling that Regulus doesn't remember. Perhaps they're new. Perhaps he never noticed them.