No Diversions

7. Progress

The next few miserable days at Grimmauld Place pass in a tense, uncomfortable silence. Dana doesn't see much of Regulus, and it's clear they've both reverted to working separately—Regulus out of sheer annoyance, and Dana driven by a deep sense of embarrassment. He wakes up before she does, eats before she comes downstairs, and spends the rest of the day locked away in the drawing room. The effort he puts into avoiding her is almost impressive, but it only leaves Dana feeling more frustrated and isolated.

The lack of progress gnaws at her, refusing to dull. No matter how hard she tries, the sense of futility lingers, especially now that the trip to Gringotts has yielded nothing of value. The history of the Sword remains a mystery, its origins shrouded in shadows that even the vast library at Grimmauld Place can't illuminate. She considers sneaking off to another library, one where she might find more answers, but quickly dismisses the idea. The last thing she wants is to push Regulus further away, and leaving the house without a word would certainly upset him. Instead, she stays, feeling more like a prisoner with each passing day.

At night, Dana often hears whispering and murmuring from downstairs. Initially, she assumes it's Kreacher, who has a habit of talking to himself. But after three consecutive nights of hearing the same low voices, her curiosity gets the better of her. One night, she slips out of bed, tiptoeing down the hall until she reaches the banister of the stairs. Peering down into the darkened room below, she's surprised to find Regulus standing in front of his father's portrait, deep in conversation.

"—Father, aren't you upset with me?" he's saying, his voice strained. "I- I disgraced this house. I turned my back on the Dark Lord. I failed to carry out my responsibilities. I'm no better than Sirius."

"Ah, you worry too much, Regulus," Orion's voice responds, light and dismissive. Dana holds her breath, hoping he won't notice her. "Does it really matter what I think? I'm two-dimensional, after all."

"I know that." Regulus sighs, frustration seeping into his tone. Dana can't see his face, but she can picture it—his brows furrowed, lips pulled into a tight frown. "I just don't understand. My whole life I was raised to do one thing, and I've failed to do it."

"Can I tell you a secret?" Orion's calm demeanor is a stark contrast to Regulus's agitation. "I never cared much for blood purity, or even for the Dark Lord at all. That was more your Mother's job."

Dana is immediately confused by the interaction. She had always imagined that Regulus's parents were cold, cruel, and fanatically devoted to blood purity—wasn't that why Sirius ran away? Why Regulus took the Dark Mark? But as she watches Orion's portrait from the shadows, he doesn't seem mean or fanatical. He's smiling at his son, speaking lightly, as if Regulus's worries are inconsequential. He almost looks amused.

"What?" Regulus sounds just as bewildered as Dana feels. "But you... you followed him."

"Oh, how naive you are, my Regulus." Orion chuckles. "Of course I followed him. What else was I meant to do? Did you like growing up in this house, with everything you could've wanted at your fingertips? Did you appreciate your status? Did the money, and the jewels, and lavish clothes bring you happiness?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then following the Dark Lord was the only way to keep all of that. It was a matter of politics, which is different from belief. Now, I'm no muggle lover, but I'm no monster either. Whether I wanted to follow him or not was irrelevant. I did what I had to, and I would do it again."

"You made me take the mark." Regulus accuses. Dana can hear the frown in his voice.

"Should I have defied the Dark Lord's direct orders?"

"I was sixteen."

"You were quite eager to take it, if I recall."

Regulus falls silent, a heavy pause settling between them. "I just wanted to please you and Mother."