Dear Sirius,

I am currently on my way to Hogwarts. I have spoken to Dumbledore, who told me that I can go to work at St. Mungo's whenever I wish to.

I suppose I will be working at Hogwarts during weekdays, and at the hospital over the weekends. If you want to meet me and talk about whatever, you will probably find me at St. Mungo's.

(Visit on Sundays, please — Saturdays are always so busy. However, I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't mind you visiting the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Poppy wouldn't either.)

I saw Regulus on the platform before I went on the train. He seemed happy.

I thought about what you said. About him having an interest in the Dark Arts. You don't think it has anything to do with him taking this job, do you? You mentioned something about your family which startled me. I'm sure you understand what I am talking about. I honestly don't know much about your family, so I shall not assume anything, but let you speak and clarify.

Nonetheless, I am going to write more to you when I settle down at Hogwarts.

I am using my sister's owl to send you this letter. She named it Iris. Quite a dramatic name for an owl.

I know you said that Remus had an owl and that you are with him, but if you ask Iris to stay with you, she will not leave until you have written a letter that you want her to deliver to me.

Love and kindness to both you and Remus, from Darya.

"There you go, Iris," Darya said, folding the letter and squeezing it into an envelope that was, without doubt, too small for it. On the front of the envelope, she wrote SIRIUS BLACK with thick letters and handed it to the owl, who took it in its beak. "Give this to Black, will you?"

She opened the window beside her and let Iris fly with the wind. Chilling air entered her compartment. The summer had come to an end, and flower crowns and sunshine were being replaced by frost and fog.

Darya had, at one point, felt like the summer would last forever. Unexpectedly, autumn had suddenly been at her door. September 1st was here. After spending a long night in the hospital working, she doubted she was ready for her days at Hogwarts. Her muscles were aching, and there were large bags under her eyes. A few more hours of beauty sleep would have helped her.

There was a sudden knock on the door to Darya's compartment; it opened before she could do or say anything.

He stood in front of her, Iris in his hands. "Think you sent her to the wrong Black," Regulus said, clicking his tongue.

"Oh, dear—"

"Take your owl," he huffed, throwing Iris forward. She landed in Darya's lap, her wings spread out. Darya was trying to calm her down when he continued, "I didn't read your letter. Don't you worry about that. I've got better things to do."

He flung the letter down beside her. She read his brother's name again.

"Sirius, Iris, Sirius. Sirius Black."

As the window was still open, Iris flew out again at once, the letter in her beak.

Darya turned to Regulus. He had sat down across from her, though she had not invited him to sit in her compartment. She looked him up and down. He was dressed in black and his hair had been cut. The last time she had seen him, his hair had reached his shoulder blades, much like Sirius' hair. It was shorter now - his dark curls barely stroked his ears.

The two brothers had definitely grown after Hogwarts, physically speaking. Approaching their twenties, they both looked completely different than what they had done when they had attended school. Sirius had become more interested in Muggle fashion, wearing leather jackets and letting his hair and smile grow. Regulus, however, seemed to always be wearing suits, and had gotten much taller. His features had grown darker, making his cheekbones pop out.

"Enjoying the view, are we?" Regulus smirked.

Darya rolled her eyes. "No."

He snickered quietly. Regulus leaned back, and folded his hands in his lap. "What does it feel like?"

"What?"

"The Dark Mark. Has it been hurting?" he asked quite loudly.

"Lower your voice!" she shrieked, holding herself back from jumping forward and clasping her hand over his lips. "Are you mad? The both of us just got jobs at a school for children! Imagine if someone here hears you talking about Dark Marks!"

"So dramatic..." He looked down at her arm. "I see you have been using the spell I taught you. Keep using it, and no one will find out about the mark."

No — no one could see her Dark Mark. She had used his spell so often that she was scared it would hurt the skin on her arm. But her anxious spirit was eating up her body, eating up her nerves, eating up her brain, slowly filling her veins with poison. Darya felt like she could never be calm.

"I don't think he knows about your position at Hogwarts," Regulus said. "The Dark Lord, I mean. I think you should tell him. Even I was surprised to see you at the platform earlier. Tell me, which responsibility are you taking on?"

"Leave me alone, Black," Darya hissed, getting angry. He still spoke so highly of Riddle. It made her feel sick.

"Don't be like that!" he leaned forward, "We're colleagues, Swan!"

She leaned forward, as well. "How did you get a job at Hogwarts? The last time I checked, you were so busy kissing the grounds Tom walked on that you couldn't even think about applying for a job. And look at you, now."

"And look at me now," he echoed. "Tom has gotten me the job as Flying Instructor for the first years."

She sat back. Regulus had always been excellent at Quidditch and flying. She had never cared for the sport and rarely watched any games, but she knew that Regulus' presentations on the Quidditch Pit were enough to shock everyone at Hogwarts.

"I have landed a job in the hospital wing," Darya answered quickly. "All on my own. So, don't you dare tell Tom about my position."

"Are you threatening me, Swan?"

They looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Then, he got up without saying a word. She sat still, trying to calm herself. Riddle had already found her in the hospital and her home. If he found her at Hogwarts, she wouldn't be safe anywhere in the Wizarding World.

"Regulus," she whispered, her voice weak. "Please don't tell him anything."

He fled her compartment.