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3-18

"Kreacher returned days later," Lucius explained , "but he was broken. He wouldn't speak. Wouldn't eat. Regulus coaxed the story from him in pieces. A cave. A potion. A basin. A locket. Kreacher had been forced to drink something that burned from the inside—something that left him screaming, and when the locket was placed into the basin, the Dark Lord had the cave filled with inferi to protect it."

Lucius's voice was cold now.

"Kreacher survived only because Regulus ordered him to come home. So he disapparated and returned home alive, but very barely. The Dark Lord had underestimated an elf - he looked down on such lowlife creatures. He hadn't expected Kreacher to live and tell the tale."

Her throat was tight.

"Regulus was furious. As you know, Regulus was alone after his brother left. Kreacher was family to him. Regulus didn't go to the Dark Lord. He went to Dumbledore."

Lyra inhaled sharply.

"They met in secret. He knew no one else who might understand. Who might know what to do. He told him everything. Dumbledore had the means to help destroy it. Two people from opposite ends of everything we've ever believed; so together they went back to the cave with Kreacher guiding the way."

Lucius's voice changed here—not cold, not theatrical. Just quiet. Grim.

"Regulus drank the potion. Not the elf. Not the old wizard. Regulus. He drank it himself."

Her mouth parted. No sound escaped.

Lucius nodded.  "He didn't hesitate. He didn't ask questions. He drank it—cup after cup—until his body shook and his mind broke and he collapsed. Dumbledore pulled the locket from the basin. Kreacher had told the truth. It was there."

He paused.

"He nearly died that night."

Lyra's hands trembled.

"But Dumbledore saved him. Barely. He brought him home. Helped him recover. They destroyed the locket together, in private. Not even I knew at the time. The Dark Lord still doesn't."

Her thoughts screamed. "No one. Not the Ministry. Not in Dumbledore's crowd. Not the Inner Circle. Not the Dark Lord."

He stepped back slightly. "Afterwards... he lived exactly as he always had. Attended meetings. Fulfilled tasks. Looked the part. The perfect heir. No one questioned him. Why would they? Regulus Black was loyal. Dutiful. Clean."

Lyra's nails dug into her palms.

"I didn't learn until years later. Not until he told me. And even then, only because the Dark Lord's had. been gone after the night in Godric's Hollow. He needed help. Another ally who would keep the mask intact. And he trusted me to wear it beside him." She inhaled sharply, but said nothing.

"He played the loyal follower. The proud heir of the House of Black. He continued the act so thoroughly even I believed him, for a time. He kept the secret for years. The only four others in the world that know of this are Dumbledore, Severus, and myself and your mother - and now you, being the fifth."

The world felt sideways.

"And last year," Lucius said, "when the diary was slipped into the path I laid for you—he knew again."

"That diary was given to me by the Dark Lord. He told me to protect it with my life. I didn't know at first, but that was no enchanted relic. It was another Horcrux. Meant to possess, to control, to open the Chamber, yes—but most of all, to survive."

Her legs wobbled beneath her and he gripped the edge of Snape's desk. 

"I didn't know until I showed Regulus and told me, he recognized the signs. Together, we had it destroyed through Harry Potter last year. He was a shield. It was why I needed you to go with him. If it was destroyed, then we would succeed. If it survived, then the Dark Lord had reason to believe we were helping him save it - through you - from the inside."

He exhaled. "This is why I came today. After the way you left things with him... I knew you didn't understand. Your uncl- godfather, he is perhaps one of the brightest people I know, but I knew he wouldn't tell you. He never tells you."

The fire cracked again and Lyra stared at the floor.

Her whole world had been built on the idea of Regulus Black. On the image of the perfect Black son who had stayed. Who had never strayed. She had wanted to be everything he was.

It hit her like a storm.

He had destroyed part of the Dark Lord's soul.

He had stood beside Dumbledore.

He had lied to her, every day of her life.

"He did it for the right reasons, my darling Lyra. But that doesn't make it any less a lie."

She didn't move.

Lucius took one more step. "He never left us, Lyra. Don't get that confused. He stayed. All these years. Walked through blood. Swore loyalty. Carried out orders. Pretended."

He said it again, slower.

"Pretended."

Her composed expression cracked.

"I am telling you this," he said, "because I saw what happened when you tried to confront him and I know that you feel betrayed. But I also know that if you don't understand why he did it—why he kept it from you—then you'll never forgive him and you'll carry that weight like fire beneath your ribs."

She stared at him, eyes glassy.

"Regulus Black did not betray the Malfoy family or the House of Black," He said solemnly, looking directly into her eyes, "He has found a way. He has found the Dark Lord's weakness. Regulus knows that he will fall. He has found a way out of darkness for our family. I am grateful for him." Lucius finished. 

Lyra looked down at her feet. She knows that Regulus is protecting the family. He has secured them protection through Dumbledore, but she couldn't help but feel betrayed. 

As if Lucius read her thoughts, he continued, "Remember Lyra, our family does not exist to serve the Dark Lord. We exist at the top of the food chain, and that means the need for power, even if it means going against him. We prioritise security, we prioritise safety, we prioritise family. Do not get confused. We will change direction in order to maximise our gains."

He nodded toward her chest. "You've worn that brooch since you were eleven. I remember. He gave it to you."

Her hand touched it.

"I don't know what it meant to you. But I know what he thought it meant."

Lucius turned toward the door.

"I'll leave you now."

He didn't wait for a reply. The door clicked shut behind him.

She stood in silence, the fire burning low, the world rearranging itself under her feet.