Snape strode quickly for the castle. He'd put off the visit he'd owed Draco for far too long. From what Harry had said, the boy was wandering around, and could be anywhere, but Draco's options had recently become very limited.

His former friends had made it understood that he was no longer welcome in Slytherin. His betrayal had quickly become known, and despite his Head of House's threats, little incidents continued to crop up wherever Draco was. He wasn't safe in any public place, and his movements had been severely restricted since he'd left the dungeons.

As a result, the new room he'd been assigned in the Hufflepuff corridor was the most likely place to find the boy. Severus took a moment to focus himself, then took a deep breath. This part of it wouldn't be easy—Draco was angry with him. Snape should've come to talk to him and advise him, spend time with him, he knew it. But he'd had little free time lately, and the boy's outburst in Potions class had somewhat cooled Severus' enthusiasm.

But he didn't have a choice now, and it was time to apply himself and address the situation. Severus knocked sharply at the door twice, and a few seconds afterward, a sluggish, familiar voice bade him enter.

Draco was seated at his desk, his face turned toward the window, morosely gazing at the countryside as he rubbed at his forearm. The gesture made Snape's stomach knot painfully.

"We have to talk," Snape began as he drew near to the boy.

"I have nothing to say to you," Draco gritted out from between his teeth, stubbornly turning his back to him. Snape clenched his jaw, trying to contain his irritation. Merlin, he didn't have time for these little games.

"But I do. It would appear there's been a misunderstanding."

"I assume it's your treasured Gryffindor who sent you?"

"Harry told me you were having problems, that's true, but I wanted to talk to you anyway," Snape said calmly. "It's overdue."

"What an honor," the boy sneered. "The Head of Slytherin is granting five minutes of his time to a former student."

"You're not a former student, Draco. The situation is difficult just now, but you're still a part of your House."

"And what's become of fabled Slytherin solidarity? I've not seen much of that lately."

"Give them time. The wind will change, and they'll come running back to you," Severus assured him. "It's only a matter of circumstances. You're not the first one this has happened to."

"I was talking about you, not them," the boy lashed out. "I did everything I could to satisfy you—to help your side—and what did I get in return? You treat me horribly, and don't do anything to help me bear this…" He gestured toward his arm.

"Which is why I mentioned a misunderstanding," Snape sighed. "I had a potion sent to you a few days ago, which should have sufficed, but I assume you didn't receive it. I'm sorry you didn't speak to me about it earlier."

"Sent…you gave it to a Slytherin to bring to me?"

Snape slightly inclined his head, and Draco swore softly. "Merlin, I've chosen a side full of imbeciles."

"Indeed, it wasn't wise on my part; I should've been more careful. In any case, I've given a supply of it to Madam Pomfrey; you must not hesitate to go to her if I'm not available. And for the present, here is a dose," Severus said, placing a phial on the desk.

Draco rushed to grab it, and swallowed it down with a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry you didn't have it sooner," Snape said. "The messenger will be punished, of course."

"And of course you won't tell me their name?"

"No need."

Draco sniggered and shook his head. "I see. That's how things will be now. Treat me like a nobody in class, have potions sent to me rather than give them to me yourself, and don't back me up. Your little Gryffindor has taught you well."

A nobody. Snape almost rolled his eyes. Draco was going to experience considerable difficulty adjusting to his new position, that was for certain; but this wasn't the best time to dwell on adolescent sulking.

"Harry was upset that you're in such a state," the professor pointed out. "He told me he'd talked to you."

"Nothing of much interest, as you suspect. Nothing worth you coming to interrogate me, anyway."

"That wasn't my intention, Draco. Stop being so distrustful; I'm not here to get information from you, or punish you. I simply want to talk with you. I'm not your enemy."

"But you're not my friend anymore either, not since you adopted Harry," the boy murmured.

"Things have changed, but that doesn't mean I'm not here for you."

"Oh, really?" Draco sneered. "You've changed the password to your rooms so I can't get in anymore. You shut me up in a dungeon, then in a lousy room, you don't come to see me, you don't even deliver an essential potion in person, and you're horrible to me in class! Really, I don't know what made me ever think…"

"Horrible? I could've just as easily dumped you headfirst back into that dungeon for what you did," Snape said dryly. "You took part in a murder attempt on the life of Harry Potter, and do you have any idea of the position you put yourself in? This isn't a matter of house rivalry, but of murder!"

"That's going to stick with me for the rest of my life, isn't it?" the boy hissed between his teeth.

"Not if you find a way to redeem yourself. To prove your good faith…and your usefulness. Begging while under the influence of Veritaserum wasn't an example of courage and loyalty, in case you have any doubt about that."

"Uh…" Draco hesitated for a moment before finally asking his question uncertainly. "What exactly did I say?"

Snape shot him a disappointed glance. "The truth. That you were only trying to save yourself, and that you were only acting in your own interests."

"That's not true," the boy murmured. "It wasn't just that. I had to think of them, I had to think of my family."

"Oddly, you didn't mention that fact during your interrogation," Severus pointed out sarcastically.

"Oh well, that's because they didn't ask me the right questions," Draco retorted. "If Father's wrong, if everything goes wrong…they'll need someone to save the family's honor. To save them, maybe."

"Lucius didn't really seem to know about your splendid plan."

"It wasn't a plan. It was…" The boy waved vaguely.

"Inspiration of the moment?" Snape suggested

"Something like that. Disappointed?"

"Coming from a Slytherin? Yes. But on the other hand, hardly surprised. I assume that between the moment when Lucius came to talk to you and when you had to make a decision, you didn't have much time to think. And I repeat—it took courage to do what you did, Draco, and that's why you deserve my consideration. Since you arrived at Hogwarts, I've been able to observe certain qualities of yours, but I wasn't aware of that one until now."

Draco visibly swelled with pride, before dejection once again overtook him. He glanced morosely at the parchment lying on his desk. "Not really. I had time to think and weigh my options beforehand. But when I wanted to talk to Father about them…I just didn't have time. Or the guts. Everything happened so fast, everything went wrong," he said furiously.

"I know," Snape said soothingly. "But even improvised, yours was a good tactic. One thing, however: you must put a bit more conviction into your adoption of your new allies. Now's not the time for half-measures."

"It would be easier if my 'new allies' were a bit more enthusiastic in welcoming me," Draco grumbled. "No one trusts me, except for you. And you're never there."

"Once again, I'll remind you that you took part in a plot to assassinate Harry Potter, only a few days ago. But you can easily prove yourself, Draco; it's up to you."

"How?" the boy asked suspiciously.

"You can contribute to our cause in your own way. Your past could be an asset."

"And play a double agent like you? No way!"

"No one's asking that of you," Snape said, annoyed. "Merlin, as if anyone would think of sending you to spy, but you don't need to. What you already know might be useful to the Order."

"Out of the question. I won't betray my family."

"Do you consider Voldemort as family?"

"I'm not talking about him. He's…it's…but I won't reveal anything about the Manor, or anything about my parents," Draco said firmly.

"There will come a time, however, when you'll have to realize that you can't remain straddled between two brooms," Severus replied dryly. "You can't ask Dumbledore for protection, all the while protecting Death Eater interests."

"You don't understand a thing! If I say anything that might hurt him, he'd take revenge on my parents! No matter if my father disinherits or disowns me, that wouldn't change anything in his eyes! He'd make them pay, even…maybe he'd…"

But Draco was incapable of finishing his sentence, and Snape saw how much difficulty he was having in controlling his emotions. Having a family was definitely not an easy thing.

"He won't have to know, Draco," he said gently.

"Of course he'll know. He's not stupid. Who else could be giving you information?"

"You misunderstand me. You can help me today, by answering certain questions that have nothing to do with the current situation. He'll never know anything about it."

"Questions?" Draco asked suspiciously. "This is just what I thought; you came to get information from me. You'll get none from me, you filthy—"

Before he could finish, Snape had grabbed him by the shirt, and shook him soundly.

"Draco Malfoy, cease this infernal whining immediately! Your years of being a spoilt child are behind you now. If you want to find some semblance of a sane and stable life, you'll have to realize that the world doesn't revolve around you, and quickly! People are no longer at your beck and call; you'll gain nothing by appearing unpleasant and distrustful, and you'll have to earn the respect that people will give you. Show that you're useful, make yourself indispensable, stay in the shadows, and people will come to overlook your past. You're still young, and you've not done anything seriously wrong yet. You can still save your future, Draco. But continue with this attitude, and you'll find yourself alone, on neither side, with no help. Nowadays, no one can allow themselves to do that, and certainly not you. It's up to you to choose, and I cannot do it for you."

Worn out by his outburst, he finally released the boy. When would Draco at last understand that he could no longer allow himself to do things by halves? But the boy had visibly paled, and the message was probably beginning to make its mark.

"Very well, ask your questions," he said at last, to Severus' great relief. "But one favor deserves another. I'm risking a lot here."

"Precisely what I was saying," Snape murmured. "A Slytherin is always a Slytherin. Very well, what is your price?"

"It's that important?" the boy asked with a slight smile. "The stakes have just gone up."

"Don't push my patience, Draco; it's extremely fragile just now."

"As if I didn't know it," Draco said curtly. "All right. I won't be demanding; I simply want to be able to defend myself. I want my wand back."

"Impossible," Severus said firmly.

"That's not fair. I can't protect myself without a wand, and no one will do it for me," Draclo protested. Then, seeing Snape's determination, he added, "Very well, it doesn't have to be mine. Another wand, with restrictions on it, will do. Adequate enough for me to practice for exams and defend myself if needed. That's the minimum!"

"I cannot promise anything, but your request seems reasonable," Severus admitted. "I'll see what I can do."

"Very well," Draco said reluctantly. "Ask your questions."

Taking a deep breath, Snape settled himself a bit more comfortably in his chair. "I'm going to have to ask you to remember old family stories. Stories from your mother's time, of the Black family."

Draco lifted an eyebrow, surprised. It appeared he hadn't expected that. He relaxed noticeably. "Mother often told stories about that. I'm listening."

"Good. Now, Draco, I want you to concentrate on the question I'm going to ask you, and search your memory for the answer using your Legilimency talents."

"You know about that, of course," the boy grimaced.

"Your aunt bragged about it enough. But that's a good thing. Do you feel ready?"

Draco took an instant to relax, preparing his mind for an orderly introspection. At last, he nodded.

"You mother was the cousin of Sirius Black, who was considered by the family to be a traitor," Snape began. The boy nodded, arranging his thoughts. "Sirius Black had a brother, Regulus, who turned to the Dark Lord. But Regulus changed his mind and paid for it with his life."

"I know. Mother talked about it enough," Draco said, making a face.

"Good. Perfect. Did your mother talk to you about that period?"

"More or less. She was very upset by the whole affair. She said Regulus had put our family in danger. That he'd been given a great honor, and that he'd spoiled everything. I never knew exactly what she meant. It was more than the fact of being a Death Eater, in any case. She wanted to remove his name from the Black family tapestry, but Walburga didn't agree."

"So, he hadn't fallen out with his mother?" Snape asked, interested.

"I didn't get that impression. I never knew that woman, obviously."

"Hmmm, another thing: had he reconciled with his brother, Sirius?"

"Yes, that was one of the things that irritated my mother. She suspected him of conspiring with Sirius against the Dark Lord. I didn't get the feeling they had much time to plot, though. Regulus must've died shortly afterward. He probably wasn't discreet enough."

"Do you know if they joined forces, in one way or another? If Sirius Black truly took his little brother under his wing?"

"No idea," Draco replied, shrugging. "I doubt even my mother knew, if that were the case. Why these questions? All this goes back before I was born."

"It's important," Severus insisted. "Focus. What else do you know about Regulus?"

"That he was younger than Sirius. That my mother got on well with him. Bella too. That he didn't go anywhere without his favorite house-elf. That his portrait disappeared."

"Portrait?" Snape interrupted him. "What portrait?"

"All the Blacks have their portrait painted for their seventeenth birthday. Regulus was no exception to the rule, although I suspect Sirius was already in disgrace at the time."

"And where is this portrait now?" Severus asked urgently.

"Are you listening to what I'm saying?" Draco said, annoyed. "It was lost. Several people have looked for it, in vain."

"Evidently," Snape muttered. "You've been very helpful, Draco. Thank you."

"What? That's all? It was hardly worth softening me up for a quarter-hour just to ask me that."

"That wasn't my intention. I simply wanted to talk to you. I must leave you for now, however, but I'll come back. Try not to attract trouble in the foreseeable future, and don't hesitate to come see me if you need anything, understood?"

"Tap at your door, yes, I know," Draco said ironically. "See you later, I guess."

Snape briefly squeezed his shoulder before quickly striding away, leaving the boy pensive and markedly bored.

Then, without wasting time, he took off in a swirl of black robes for the Headmaster's office. With the little he knew about the Black family history, Draco had nevertheless been extremely useful, allowing Snape to confirm his suspicious. There were few people now who seemed in a position to speak of Regulus, and those who could have were dead.

Taking a sudden breath, he stopped short in the middle of the corridor. Even the dead could sometimes be chatty.

"Black," he hissed through his teeth, after making sure no one else was there. "Sirius Black. If you're here, show yourself. It's important."

A few seconds passed without the mongrel showing any signs of life, and Snape flushed in spite of himself, aware of the ridiculousness of the situation. After all, it wasn't as if one could hope the mutt would be of any use. Swearing softly, he strode off again for his destination.

To his great relief, the Headmaster was in his tower, the door swinging quickly open to him.

"Severus," he greeted him, "what can I do for you? Sherbet lemon?"

"No, thank you. I've come to ask a favor concerning…what we're looking for."

"It seems to me that many things could fit that description, but I presume you're speaking about enchanted objects, the destruction of which is essential?" Dumbledore went on.

"Precisely. I might possibly have some new information on that subject."

"Information?" said the Headmaster, new interest alight in his eyes. "I'm listening."

"They're only suspicions…a theory, in fact. But to prove it, I'd need to speak to one of the portraits in your office."

"I see. Which one?"

"Phineas Black," Snape answered laconically.

"A former Slytherin?" Dumbledore said, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Severus rolled his eyes. He truly didn't have the time for this little game.

"Phineas," the Headmaster called, "would you have time to speak with one of our Heads of House?"

The profile in the portrait quickly came to life, casting an annoyed look over the office.

"Give me one good reason why?" he asked icily.

"Severus?" Dumbledore directed him.

"Headmaster," Snape said as he stepped forward, "I would like to ask you a question about one of your descendants."

"I say again: what reason can you give me? You are Head of Slytherin, if I'm not mistaken?"

"That's correct."

"And a half-blood, to boot. Sets a great example."

Snape did the best he could to not let his irritation show. What use in arguing his genealogy with and old, faded portrait? He contented himself with crossing his arms and eyeing the former Headmaster from head to toe, waiting for him to continue.

"Hmm. It would seem that Slytherin House is in better shape than it was during the time of your predecessor," Phineas said at last. "State your request; I don't have time to dawdle."

"Thank you," Snape said. "I would like to know if you have knowledge of a portrait, at Grimmauld Place or elsewhere, which would contain your great-great grandson, Regulus Black?"

"Regulus, is it? Interesting. The great enigma of the Blacks: must he or must he not be stricken from the family tree? I suppose that's hardly of any importance anymore to the living now, though. Ah well, no, young man, to answer your question. I have no knowledge of such a portrait. I know it existed, that being said. Dear Walburga more than sufficiently expressed herself on the subject. Unfortunately, it would appear the canvas was destroyed or lost over time."

"Walburga Black, Regulus' mother?" Severus asked pensively.

"Yes, well, her portrait, to be exact. My great granddaughter is worthy of her blood, but she had a rather hard life at the end, and her portrait has remained a bit bitter over it. However, I regularly visit her at Grimmauld Place, where we have interesting conversations."

"Would she know where her son's portrait is?"

"That's difficult to say. Perhaps."

"Could you ask her about this?"

Phineas' portrait haughtily lifted its nose in the air. "Certainly not. Your mortal troubles and schemes are none of my concern. Leave my great granddaughter out of it."

"It's important, Phineas," Albus insisted. "This information could be vital to our cause."

"Your cause? Saving Mudbloods? I'm leaving, if you'll excuse me."

And without further ceremony, the former Headmaster disappeared from the frame.

"I suppose we'll have to confront the harpy-in-question's portrait," Snape sighed.

"Hopefully my esteemed colleague hasn't already left to warn her not to receive us," Dumbledore pointed out.

"That could be a problem," Severus admitted. "Whatever the case, she won't talk to just anyone. "We'll have to find a spokesman."

"You're thinking of young Malfoy?"

"Hmm, that's a possibility, but I doubt Harry will agree to allow him to enter the house."

"Harry will do what you ask, and you know it," Dumbledore said.

"I prefer not to ask him something of this sort. Better to choose someone from the Order. Preferably a Black. Is Miss Tonks available?"

"We'll have to ask her. If you have a moment?"

"Of course," Snape replied with a sweep of his hand.

The Headmaster walked toward the fireplace, quickly throwing a handful of powder in the grate, only to pull back a few minutes later to let a young woman step through.

"Hullo, everyone!" she cried to those present, remembering to include the portraits with a wave of her hand. "I've been in this office so often recently, I'm going to end up thinking I've misbehaved!"

"For what we have in mind, that would likely be a good thing," Snape pointed out.

"Really? I'll have to pass myself off as a hardened criminal? Play like I've gone round the twist?" Tonks asked, interested.

"Almost. You've going to have to pass yourself off as a Black."

Tonks scowled instantly as she crossed her arms. "Not funny. Do I have to? I'm not sure I can do it."

"Have to, no. But it would be very helpful to us, as part of a very dangerous mission," Dumbledore replied. The young woman's eyes quickly began to glitter.

"All right, go on, explain!"

"You've been to Grimmauld Place before, so you know Walburga Black's portrait."

"The old witch! Yes, I know it, that's my great aunt. Something like that. No one's managed to Incendio that portrait yet, after all this time?"

"I'm afraid it's protected," Dumbledore said. "But that's a good thing, as we'll have time to question her. The problem is that Walburga Black…"

"Will only speak to a worthy descendant of her precious lineage, I know," Tonks went on. "I really want to try, but honestly, I can't guarantee anything. I'm really not right for the job."

"To begin, you'll have to alter your appearance," Severus said. "Your hair. Choose either blond or black."

Tonks rolled her eyes, but quickly made her hair grow as black as her cousins'. She then changed her eyes to a steely gray, and tried to smooth her features as much as she could, giving her nose an aristocratic aspect.

"Will that do?"

"Perfect," Dumbldore agreed. "Let's get down to the matter…Severus?"

The Potions master nodded. "It would seem there was a portrait of Regulus Black. We need to question it, but this painting appears to have disappeared some time ago. It's possible that Mrs. Black knows where it is."

"I see," Tonks murmured. "And what do you want from poor Regulus?"

"No need for you to know," Snape said curtly. "Stick to questioning the portrait."

The young woman shot an exasperated glance at Albus, who eyed her apologetically.

"I'll content myself with being a perfect little Black. Fine."

"Perhaps, though, it'd be best to have an excuse prepared ahead of time," Dumbledore suggested.

"I could say I'm an admirer of my cousin, and I want to hang his painting at my place," Tonks said with a shrug. "I knew Regulus a bit; I must've been six when he died. He visited the house sometimes."

"That's perfect," the Headmaster said approvingly. "If you feel ready, then perhaps we should proceed immediately, before Phineas has too much time to talk to his great granddaughter?"

The two other Order members agreed, and the three of them headed for the Floo to travel to Grimmauld Place. The house was as sinister as ever, but an unusual peace pervaded the place. No meeting there today, Snape reminded himself, and no Sirius Black, of course. He experienced a small twinge of guilt at the relief he felt.

"The portrait is in the hallway," Dumbledore prompted. "Better if Miss Black goes alone."

"I'm on it," the young woman murmured, taking a deep breath. Steeling her features, she left the room, taking care to leave the door ajar.

Unlike her usual behavior, Walburga's portrait didn't take up screaming the moment she saw someone approach, which Severus and Ablus took as a good sign.

"Mrs. Black, please accept my respects," Tonks began, her tone both deferential and haughty, raising her in Snape's estimation.

"Your respects, eh? I seem to have seen your face before, young lady. Introduce yourself!"

"I'm Nymphadora Black, granddaughter of Cygnus Black and Druella Rosier. We're related."

"Nymphadora Black? There is no Nymphadora Black! Don't lie, you little upstart! And who the devil are your parents?"

"My parents are no more important than my birth name. But if you insist, I'm the daughter of Andromeda Black and…I prefer not to speak of it."

"Ah, now we have it," Walburga said triumphantly. "A blood traitor, married to a Mudblood! It's a disgrace—a veritable disgrace for the noble House of Black!"

"Don't talk to me about my parents, I don't want anything to do with them!" Tonks exclaimed icily, impressing Snape even further. He knew of Nymphadora's attachment to her family and its values, and her performance was all the more admirable because of this.

"But here's something interesting," the portrait said sarcastically. "A half-blood in rebellion, isn't that touching!"

"I'm a Black, and I don't want to hear anymore about it," Tonks persisted sulkily. "I intend to take the Mark next month, and the Dark Lord has no complaints about that."

"Hmm," Walburga said thoughtfully. "So what brings you here?"

"Actually, I wanted to consult you," Tonks said, her voice suddenly humble. "No one else is available or…as good at giving advice for this."

"I see. Well, then, don't waste time, state your request!"

Snape couldn't help but smile, inwardly congratulating the young woman.

"As I was saying, I must be Marked next month," Tonks announced. "And the Dark Lord would like me to marry."

"At your age, it would indeed be time," Walburga said dryly.

"That's my opinion too, but up until now, no one with pure enough blood has turned up."

"Well, I don't see who would want a half-blood, were she a Black. Of course, your standards commend you. You'll do well to find a pureblood wizard from a less prominent family."

"But I don't want a wizard from a less prominent family!" Tonks said indignantly. "I only want a Black, or someone of the bloodline."

"My, we're ambitious," the portrait said, amused. "Your pure genes are showing, that's a good thing. Well, it seems Narcissa produced a male heir, but they only have one, and he's a Malfoy; their fortune and their blood…you hardly have a chance. Did Bellatrix manage to procreate at last?"

"No, unfortunately," Tonks replied, appearing annoyed. "And I have to tell you that I have a… well, certain weakness for someone. No, not for a person, since he's no longer of this world, but he's my ideal…"

"Young lady, you're losing yourself in romantic notions that are as stupid as they are old-fashioned," Walburga said. "Be reasonable. Ask the Dark Lord to find you a husband."

"That's exactly what I intend to do. But for that, I want to show him the portrait of the one I love, so he'll understand what my ambitions are."

"So? Do it, then, and stop running in circles, young lady!"

"It's just…this portrait was lost, and I thought that maybe you…you would know where it is. I'd like so, so much to hang it over my fireplace."

"I think I see where you're going with this," Walburga murmured. Which wasn't a moment too soon, Severus thought. "Obviously, my wonderful Regulus…who wouldn't have wanted him? Well, I can't guarantee he would've looked at you; he certainly would've made a good marriage, had he lived, but I'm unable to understand your infatuation."

"It was such a loss," Tonks said furiously. "It was so unfair!"

"I know, I know," the witch sighed, clearly touched. "Such a good boy…"

"And faithful to the cause! From a perfect bloodline. I know you wouldn't have approved, but I still would have taken my chances, Mrs. Black," the young woman said gently.

Even Albus seemed impressed now by her performance. Behind the door, the two men exchanged a look that clearly communicated their thoughts: Nymphadora Tonks would've made a perfect spy.

"Ah well, we'll never know, will we?" Walburga said nostalgically at last. "As for the portrait, well, if you find it, you can keep it. Unfortunately, it has been gone as long as my son has."

"Isn't there any hope? I'm prepared to do anything to find it," Tonks said passionately.

"If I only knew what that bloody elf did with it," growled Mrs. Black. "After my Regulus' death, that creature took the painting and hid it somewhere. He never wanted to tell me where, claiming that Regulus had made him swear to keep it safe. As if it wouldn't have been safe with me! I coaxed the elf, I threatened him to the extreme; nothing worked. He only banged his head against the walls to punish himself, all the while chanting that he was obeying his master. It must be said how committed he was to my son."

"Do you know which elf this was?" Tonks asked. "Perhaps I could question him."

"I doubt he's still alive. I've not seen him in a long time, although I regret it. His name was Kreacher; he was a very loyal elf. I hope his head was hung up on the wall."

"Thank you, Mrs. Black. I'm going to try to find this elf…"

"Do it, then. And if you find my handsome Regulus, well, take care of him. And cherish his memory. You're just a half-blood, but I suppose if a half-blood were to deserve the name of Black, it would be you."

"That's a huge honor coming from you," Tonks said as she bowed. "See you again soon."

And, without waiting further, she returned to the sitting room where the two wizards waited. There was a new respect in their eyes, an acknowledgment of the effort she'd had to expend to carry out the conversation with her relative.

"Never make me do that again," she groaned, resuming her usual appearance.

"Miss Tonks, you were brilliant," Dumbledore congratulated her. "We've taken a spectacular step forward; we owe you a great deal."

"Are you going to tell me why you need that bloody portrait?" she asked.

"No," Severus replied, "only that the reason is extremely important. Even more than you can imagine. You've just given us a valuable weapon against Voldemort."

Tonks' eyes glittered. "You're going to finish off the bastard, eh?"

"That's the idea, yes."

"Need anything else from me?" she asked.

The two men considered each other.

"Kreacher belongs to Harry. I think he's in the best position to get information from him. If he didn't want to give his mistress information, though…" Snape began.

"Oh, I think we can count on our young friend's ingenuity," Dumbledore said. "If you're able, Miss Tonks, stay in the area, but I hope we won't have to ask you for this sort of performance again."

"I hope so too," Tonks said with a shudder. "Can we go? This place gives me goosebumps."

Leaving Walburga Black's unusually quiet portrait behind them, the three of them returned to Hogwarts.'

"If it's all right with everyone, I'm going to make a stop in the library," Tonks announced. "Some research to do. I suppose the Restricted Section shouldn't present a problem?"

"Not at your age, no," Dumbledore chuckled. "However, take this note with you," he said, scribbling a note quickly on a scrap of parchment. "Madam Pince sometimes tends to forget that former students have grown up."

With a wave and a laugh, Tonks took off at a quick pace.

"And now, Harry," Snape said. "He's going to have to find a way to convince that house-elf, one way or another."

"He is indeed the one Harry sent to work in Hogwarts' kitchens at the beginning of term, isn't he?"

"Correct. The little cheat who betrayed his last master. I'm afraid the matter isn't that simple."

"Indeed, confronting him directly probably won't work. Kreacher was obviously attached to his master; that's the angle we'll have to play on," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

"Hmm. What's left of that infamous locket that you destroyed the other day?" Snape asked.

"Don't be modest—the locket that you destroyed. Ah well, it was most likely poorly done on my part, but I didn't have the courage to throw away what remained of the relic."

With a slow gesture, full of distaste and fascination, the Headmaster pulled a small box from a desk drawer. Inside was a white-gold chain, and what was left of the jewel, broken in two pieces now.

"Excellent," Snape murmured. "I think that will suffice. I'm going to get Harry."

It didn't take him long to find the boy, busy at revising an essay. A few minutes later, they were back in the office, and seeming disheartened, Harry studied the locket.

"Oh no, not this thing again."

"Everything will be fine. It's not harmful any longer," Snape reassured him.

"So you say. I don't trust that thing at all."

"Let's just say it now has no magical power," Snape elucidated. "But we'll need it in order to convince Kreacher."

"And on top of it, I'm going to have to see that dirty traitor? This a day for horror films?" the boy protested.

"This is important research on the Horcruxes, and you're going to oblige me by being more cooperative," Snape said dryly. "Things are complicated enough as it is."

"I get it," Harry said reluctantly. "What do I have to do with the worst house-elf in history and an object that used to be cursed?"

"I have a theory," Snape finally said after a moment of hesitation. Harry saw Dumbledore listening closely as well. "I have a feeling that young Regulus had this object in his possession, and he understood what it was. If my theory is correct, he tried to destroy it and, unable to, hid it away."

"Hid it? At the Dursleys'?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Why not? It was truly the last place Voldemort would've looked for it. And like all the family homes of Aurors, it was protected from Death Eaters."

"But in that case, he couldn't have gone back there," Harry pointed out.

"Himself, no, but Kreacher? Or maybe even Sirius."

"That's a possibility," Dumbledore admitted, though seeming hardly convinced.

"It's only an idea, but I'm determined to test it," Snape insisted. "We must speak to Regulus, and it would appear that this house-elf now holds the key to the puzzle. Harry, you'll show him this locket and observe his reaction. Understood?"

The young man shrugged. "Why not?"

"In the face of so much enthusiasm…could you call your elf?" Severus asked.

Harry made a face, but obeyed. "Kreacher!"

The little elf appeared instantly in the office, seeming suspicious and disgruntled.

"The dirty half-blood master has called me?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes. I need you. There's…something you must see."

And, the distaste obvious, he held out the locket to the elf. Kreacher immediately began to shriek and pull out the few hairs sprouting from his balding head.

"The locket! The locket! It's been destroyed; finally, my master succeeded!"

"Yeah, well…" Harry began. A wave from Snape in his direction made him swallow the rest of the sentence. "Yes, I destroyed it. Like your Master Regulus wished," he tried.

With these words, the old house-elf threw himself at Harry, wrapping his little arms around Harry's legs, sobbing heartbreakingly, leaving Harry perfectly astonished.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, Harry Potter is a great wizard! A great wizard! Master Regulus made Kreacher promise to do all he could to destroy the bad locket, and Kreacher couldn't, he couldn't! Kreacher is a bad elf! But now, Harry Potter has done it, and Kreacher can die happy!"

"Yeah, um, well, all that isn't necessary," Harry stammered, struggling to recover from his surprise. "And now that we've accomplished Master Regulus' mission, it's time to let the whole world know what a great wizard he was, right?"

"A great wizard! Oh yes, Harry Potter, my master was a great wizard! All the world must know it!" said the little elf as he jumped in place.

"Perfect," Harry said. "We could, um, I dunno…it's a shame it's too late to have a portrait done."

Kreacher quickly straightened, beaming. "A portrait! Master Harry, there is already a portrait. Master Regulus said to hide the portrait as long as the locket hadn't been destroyed, but Master Harry's done it! He destroyed the cursed locket! Master Regulus can come back; it's a great day!"

The elf disappeared with a pop, leaving the three wizards markedly bewildered.

"Ah well, this is interesting," Snape said with a satisfied smile.

"I'll admit I didn't believe it," Harry confessed. "That was really it!"

"We'll wait until we have the portrait to know more, but it seems we're on the right path," Dumbledore said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

It took some long minutes of waiting until the elf finally returned, his hands empty and seeming especially furious.

"Harry Potter, sir! The guardian of the portrait refuses to hand it over; that horrible thing says she must see my new master first. What a horrible, horrible witch! Harry Potter, sir, you must come with me. We must save Master Regulus' portrait!"

"Who is the guardian, Kreacher?" Snape asked as he stepped forward.

The elf eyed him up and down suspiciously.

"This is my father, Kreacher, you can talk to him."

"Is Harry Potter sure?"

"He helped me destroy the locket," Harry assured him.

"Then Kreacher will tell. It is Andromeda Black who has the portrait, Master Harry! But she's called Andromeda Tonks now. Master Regulus trusted her, yes, and he told Kreacher to hide the portrait in a safe place if he died, so Kreacher took it to Andromeda Tonks and told her to keep it, as a matter of life and death. And Andromeda Tonks said all right, Master Harry. But she doesn't want to give it back now!"

The three wizards looked at each other, stunned speechless once again. All this time, the portrait had been at the Tonks'? None of whom had probably even given a thought to the portrait since the time it was entrusted to them.

"We are all going to come, Kreacher," Dumbledore announced. "And we're going to bring back Regulus' portrait."

The little elf's crinkled face lit up at his words, and he came nearer to pat Harry's knee. "Kreacher was wrong. Harry Potter is a good wizard. Yes, a good wizard."

The boy glanced hesitantly at his father, who shrugged. Was this really the same elf who only a few moments before had cursed and called him every name in the book?

Annoyed, Harry patted the elf on the shoulder. "Thanks, Kreacher. You've helped us a great deal. Wait for us here, all right?" he asked, foreseeing trouble if they took the angry elf with them.

"Let's go," Dumbledore ordered, already opening the Floo connection. "Andromeda is waiting."

And, in fact, Nymphadora's mother was standing in her sitting room, noticeably surprised, and with her wand in hand. "Albus, it's you who's behind all this again?" she asked when they'd stepped through to the house.

"Let's say I'm seeking new information, dear friend, and this portrait could be very useful to us."

"It was entrusted to me a very long time ago, at the time of its subject's death," she clarified.

"We know," Dumbledore confirmed. "We need to speak with Regulus."

"But that same Regulus absolutely refused to speak the last time I saw the portrait, and I won't betray its master. He was a good boy, whatever was said of him, and he had good reasons for wanting to hide."

"Indeed, but those reasons are now null and void," the Headmaster said gently. "If you'd allow us to speak to him for a moment and show him an object, he'll tell you so himself."

Andromeda fidgeted for a moment, before finally nodding. "He's a cousin, you understand. Very well, I'll go get it."

She returned a few minutes later, carrying a dusty frame that seemed to have slept beneath a drape for years.

When she removed the covering, the wizard in the frame blinked before glancing around. He looked so much like Sirius that Harry felt his stomach knot. The young man, who wasn't yet seventeen, had been painted at his desk, surrounded by green and silver.

"Regulus Black?" Dumbledore asked, even though there wasn't a doubt who he was.

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore!" the portrait said with relief. "Hello. It's a pleasure to see you. Who's that with you?"

Snape and Harry stepped up opposite the painting.

"Severus? Is that really you?"

"In person," Snape said, bowing.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you've…aged. How long have I been behind that curtain?"

"Something like seventeen years."

"Hmm, that explains why you don't look younger… And this young man beside you?"

"Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself. "Nice to meet you."

"Harry…Potter? James' son?"

"And Lily Evans'," Dumbledore agreed.

"Merlin, time's really flown by. But it's true, you look like your father," Regulus said. "Severus, is…is the Master…?"

"No need to call him that," Snape said with a shake of his head. "Voldemort has returned, yes."

"Returned? So he was defeated?"

"It's a long story, but yes. By this same Harry Potter."

"Merlin, he was vanquished, and has come back. Yes, I was right, then," Regulus muttered.

"Yes, you were right, and we've come to talk about that," Snape agreed.

The portrait instantly became wary. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I told Kreacher, though…but perhaps he's dead now."

"No, he's old, but alive; he belongs to Harry now."

"To Harry? But…that's impossible!" Regulus exclaimed.

"Alas, many things have changed," Dumbledore said, trying to calm him. "But before all that, you must see this."

With a solemn gesture, he brandished the broken locket in front of the painting.

"You've done it," Regulus murmured. "Thank Merlin, you've done it!"

"It was Severus who destroyed it," Dumbledore clarified, which earned him a dark look from Snape.

"Really? So you too, you…?" Regulus murmured.

Snape gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Perhaps we could talk all this over in the peace and quiet of my office?" the Headmaster suggested.

"Yes, of course. If the locket is… Merlin, I'm so relieved! Yes, of course."

"Andromeda, will you permit us to take this portrait?"

"Well, that's for Regulus to decide," the witch said.

"Cousin," Regulus said, "thank you so much for your hospitality and protection. I think it's time for me to be useful again. I'm going to take the Headmaster up on his offer."

"Understood," Andromeda said with a smile. "Good luck, cousin. Nice to see you again."

And with a few polite goodbyes, the little group returned to Hogwarts.

"When I think that the painting was there since the start," Harry murmured. "Right under our noses. This is important, isn't it?"

"Extremely," Snape confirmed. But before he could add anything more, Kreacher had thrown himself to his knees before the portrait, moaning and stammering.

"Master Regulus! Master Regulus! Kreacher did as you asked, but he didn't succeed; the young master did it! Yes, even if he's a half-blood, he did it! And he's brought Master Regulus back to the castle!"

"Thank you, Kreacher. You're a very loyal elf," Regulus said with a surprised smile. "You did very well. We'll have a chance to talk longer, I'm sure."

"Yes, Master Regulus! Kreacher will come back, that's for certain. Oh yes, he'll come back!"

Then, understanding that he'd been thanked, the elf disappeared with a pop.

Regulus' portrait, seeming all of a sudden fatigued, glanced almost fearfully at Harry. "I have nothing against you, young Harry, half-blood or not, but if you are Kreacher's new master, then…Sirius…my family?"

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said gently. "They're all dead now. Sirius was the last, and he left all that he had to his godson Harry."

Regulus shuddered. "How?"

"Bellatrix," Severus replied laconically.

"That bitch," Regulus huffed. "My dear cousin. She and Sirius were never able to get along. But still…sure, I suppose that between her and her precious Dark Lord, family hardly counted."

"If it's any consolation, I think Bellatrix lost her mind a long time ago," Severus stated. "Her stay in Azkaban mustn't have helped matters."

Regulus tapped the arm of the chair in which he was painted. "So, what happened, then? I always thought you were a loyal Death Eater," he confessed.

"I was," Severus admitted. "Until the time came when I realized it wasn't the wisest choice for…those that I loved."

"It quickly becomes clear, doesn't it?" Regulus scowled. "I suppose it took longer for me to see it than you. It was when he tried to kill my elf that I really understood. Rather stupid, eh, after what he'd done to the rest of my family."

"Better late than never," Dumbledore said gently. "I'm sorry you didn't come to see me, my boy."

"I couldn't risk putting my family in danger," Regulus explained. "Everything had to stay secret. There was only Sirius and Andromeda, and even to them, I didn't tell everything. I couldn't. That locket, the Horcrux…I couldn't implicate them."

"That was wise," Albus agreed. "But why hide the locket at the Dursleys'?"

"Dursleys?" Regulus asked, astonished. "Who are they?"

"Lily Evans' sister, Harry's aunt and uncle," Snape explained.

"But…I did no such thing. I asked Sirius to hide it in a safe place until I found a solution. I didn't tell him exactly what it was. Only that it was important. But I also asked him for another favor. I wanted to examine Lily's necklace, the one she'd talked to Sirius about. So, he exchanged the two, thinking the locket would be safe at the Potters', since they were so well hidden."

"The locket was found at Lily's sister's, not at the Potters'," Albus pointed out.

The portrait shook its head. "No, it was with them. I couldn't tell you why. He entrusted the necklace to me, asking me to take great care with it. I wanted to study its properties; it's an absolutely incredible object; it can detect magic in an infant, even if it's born to Muggle parents. Do you realize what that means? We could single out young wizards, and know if a child born to a wizarding couple was a Squib."

"Why is that important?" Harry asked, uneasy.

"To protect them, of course," Regulus exclaimed.

"Well, if we succeed at what we're after, that won't be necessary any longer," Dumbledore said. "Once and for all, we'll put an end to this madness."

"Where is the necklace now?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Lily's? The last time I saw it, it was still in my room," Regulus replied.

The three wizards looked at each other. No one had ever found that sort of necklace at Grimmauld Place. Who knew what might've become of it?

"Doesn't matter," Harry sighed.

"Let's get back to the Horcrux," Snape went on. "How did you come to have it?"

"Ah, that's a rather sorry affair," Regulus grimaced. "Actually, I should never have had it, but, well, the Dark Lord wanted to use Kreacher to hide that cursed object in a cave. But Kreacher came back and told me everything, and I knew I had to do something to destroy it. Being a Death Eater, following that wizard's orders…it wasn't what Mother thought. There was nothing noble or glorious about it. It was just…wicked. Not to mention that he was only a half-blood himself."

"How outrageous," Severus sneered.

"Rather, yes, don't you think, when one claims that pure blood is everything?"

"No doubt. Go on."

"Anyway, I couldn't go looking for that thing myself, without losing my life—Kreacher explained things well enough. So I tried to make one desperate final attempt. I asked for a private meeting with the Dark Lord, and I told him I knew he'd wanted to hide a precious object, and that this object wasn't safe. No need to say how upset he was. Despite everything, I managed to make him believe I was doing all this to help him, and ended by convincing him. So he did me a huge honor, and entrusted the locket to me. The Horcrux."

In his frame, Regulus hesitated. "At the time, I still wasn't sure what I was going to do. When I had it in my hands…it was too much. I didn't know what to do. So, I did something a bit stupid; like I did when I was a child, I went to see Sirius. I don't know what I was thinking, but Sirius didn't turn me away. On the contrary, he was happy I'd changed my opinions. I almost went to see you, Severus, but I thought…I wasn't certain. It seemed to me that you were trying to change your mind, but I wasn't all that sure of it."

Snape shrugged. "I suppose too much subtlety is damaging, sometimes."

Regulus nodded. "I started to learn about the locket. Thanks to my family's books, I quickly understood…a Horcrux…and how destroying it was almost impossible. I had to find something, and that risked taking too long, and at the time, I didn't have much because the Dark Lord was increasingly suspicious about me. Sirius offered to hide the Horcrux in a secure place while I busied myself studying Lily's necklace. He had a perfect solution: a place under Fidelius. That's what saved us in the end…"

"Saved?" Snape scowled. "Last I heard, you're dead, Regulus. And your brother as well."

"Little did our lives matter, but the Dark Lord didn't recover the Horcrux," Regulus said curtly. "When he finally understood—I don't know how—he questioned me." He made a face. "Torture would be more accurate. When nothing worked, he forced me to take Veritaserum. He was absolutely set on knowing where I'd hidden the Horcrux, but that's the beauty of Fidelius. Even with a potion, I couldn't answer. I died without having talked," he finished, with a small, sad smile that made Harry shiver.

"He must be looking for it everywhere," he remarked.

"If that's the case, he had to do it discreetly," Snape replied pensively. "He surely doesn't want others to understand."

"Oh no, certainly not," Regulus laughed. "The other Death Eaters to whom he entrusted those things all think they're objects of honor."

"And who are they, these other purebloods promoted to this rank of honor?" Severus asked.

Regulus smiled slightly. "Don't you suspect who? Lucius and Bellatrix, evidently. His little pets. I suppose he would've considered you as well, but…"

"Honor of a half-blood, I wasn't up to standard," Snape finished for him. "Not to mention I lacked the necessary fortune to adequately protect such a treasure."

"Quite correct. And influence as well."

"Do you know which objects are in their possession?"

"No idea," Regulus said, shaking his head. "But they must protect them, on pain of death."

"In truth, dear Lucius has already committed a blunder," Severus sneered. "But that leaves us with Bellatrix."

"Look for valuable objects," Regulus advised. "Our dear Lord is somewhat ceremonious."

"All this will be very valuable," Dumbledore confirmed. "You've been of inestimable help, my boy."

"I'd like to think so," Regulus sighed. "I didn't have a particularly memorable career, either as Death Eater or traitor."

"Better late than never, I suppose," Snape said. "Now it remains to be seen how that locket ended up at the Dursleys'. But I suppose that's no longer important, now that it's been destroyed."

"If Lucius and Bellatrix were safekeeping one of those…things, well maybe there are others?" Harry guessed.

"No," Regulus corrected him. "The Dark Lord was reluctant to entrust this one to me because he didn't want too many people involved. I doubt he risked secreting another Horcrux to a simple wizard."

Dumbledore and Severus nodded.

"Perhaps we'll need to question you again later," the Headmaster said. "Would you like to be hung in any particular place?"

"A peaceful place, please," Regulus replied. "I'm scarcely used to company anymore. If you have a place in the castle that needs surveillance, that would suit me perfectly."

"Ah well, just above this office, there's a little room housing a rather peculiar guest whom I must keep an eye on."

"That's perfect," Regulus assured him. "Completely the sort of task that suits me. If something else occurs to me, I'll let you know. Could you send Kreacher to hang me? I'd like to talk with him."

"And while you're at it, tell him I don't bear him any ill-will," Harry added. "Our relationship has been a bit…tense. Him and Sirius…well, he'll tell you. But I know it wasn't totally his fault," the boy said reluctantly.

"I'm afraid I understand," Regulus murmured. "I'll talk to him, young Harry. And I hope we'll have the chance to talk again too."

"That'd be nice," the boy said sincerely.

"But for now, it's time to return to your studies," Snape ordered.

"Take on a professor as a father and see what you get," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Father?" Regulus asked, with new interest in his voice.

"Some other time, Regulus," Severus said with a smile. "Society gossip can wait."

"I suppose," the ex-Death Eater said, clearly amused. "See you later, then."

A black cat threaded its way along the corridor, heading for Gryffindor Tower, and Dumbledore undertook his duty of calling Kreacher and giving instructions. Deciding he'd accomplished his mission of the day, Severus hesitated for an instant over what he should do. He was hardly in the mood to begin a potion. Actually, he wanted to share his latest discoveries and the great satisfaction he'd derived from them with someone; but Albus already knew, and there was hardly any other alternative.

Unless perhaps…where could Lupin be at this hour? Probably spying on Hagrid's hut, he thought. Of course, it would only be a visit out of courtesy, even less a friendly one. No, he'd keep his promise concerning their new pact. Exactly, it was entirely that.

Stepping out purposefully, he headed for the gardens, satisfied. He was scarcely beyond Hogwarts' walls, and out of view of students, though, when he sensed a presence materialize beside him. Quickly unsheathing his wand, he let out a growl of frustration as he recognized the canine form standing at his side.

"Not another Black," he growled. "I thought I'd made the rounds of them for the day. There must be a legal limit for…"

"Enough whinging!" Sirius ordred. "You're the one who called me; Lily told me!"

"Pardon?" Severus said, taking offense.

"She's the one watching over you most often. You're not going to complain, are you?"

"I don't see why I need to be watched over," Snape said indignantly.

"Your last encounter against the Death Eaters should answer your question," Sirius barked out. "Did you call me, yes or no?"

"Yes," the wizard admitted. "It's a bit late, but after all…it so happens we've found Regulus' portrait."

"Regulus? The portrait? Exactly what do you want with my brother?" Sirius asked distrustfully.

"Information on the Horcruxes. The locket he entrusted to you, do you remember it?"

"The…ah, yes, I see. Yeah, of course. I'd sort of forgotten that thing. It was important, then?"

"Important?" Snape moaned. "For Merlin's sake! Did you once have that thing in your hands?"

"Yeah." The dog shivered. "And it wasn't a pleasant experience. That thing belonged to Slytherin himself, you see, and he didn't like me at all. I suppose you can't understand, but he did really bizarre things to me. I mean, not bizarre in the sense…well…"

"Black!" Snape shouted in exasperation. "Simpleton! That locket was much more than a simple relic. It was enchanted, cursed. It contained a piece of Voldemort's soul!"

The stream of invective that followed almost shocked the ex-Death Eater.

"Good god, Snape! I stashed that thing at the Dursleys'. You have to go get it!"

"It's already done, you slacker! It's been destroyed and is harmless now, but it filtered its cursed power into the entire house for years, on your godson, Black! On my son! What do you have to say to that?"

The dog had nothing to say. He sat down heavily on the ground still covered with snow, and fastened his empty eyes on the wizard's boots.

"Merlin, Merlin, I never thought… I thought it only had that effect on me. I knew I had to secure it somewhere. In fact, I hardly thought, when Hagrid told me Harry had to go to his aunt that evening, after what happened at Godric's Hollow, when he told me why. I just went through what was left of Lily and James' things, personal items, letters, some clothes. I pulled that out of a trunk and told Hagrid to leave that for the family, for Harry, for later. There was the locket, and I thought... I don't know what I thought. That it would be an heirloom for Harry. That it wasn't important any longer, that Regulus was dead, and that it would be safe with him, in that house protected by Lily's sacrifice. Merlin, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

And it was in watching this dejected ghost who was really no more than a shadow of himself, it was in thinking of that long line of sullen, despairing portraits, that Severus realized:

The house of Black had been extinguished this time. Extinguished and cursed, buried with all its secrets, large and small, shameful and noble, those little secrets that had killed this family as surely as a curse.

The Black family was finished, and no shadow could do anything anymore to change the fact of that now.