Regulus Black

February 28th, 1996

I rehearse what I'm going to say to him as I reach for the Floo powder. How I'm going to confront him, call him out for his lies.

Meredith is at work, coaching the Holyhead Harpies for the match this weekend, so she doesn't know where I'm going. She played four seasons with the Harpies before retiring when she found out she was pregnant with Atlas. Then they asked her to come back and coach in 1988.

I step into the fireplace and throw the Floo powder down.

"Albus Dumbledore's office."

When the smoke subsides, I brush the nonexistent ash and soot off of my jacket and step out of the fireplace. Dumbledore is standing beside his pensieve, looking down at the silvery light spilling out of the basin.

"Mister Black," He said, "You're punctual as always."

"Dumbledore," I acknowledged him before I stepped further into his office, peering around him to the pensieve.

I had written to Dumbledore two weeks ago, asking to meet with him about something. I hadn't said what exactly I wished to speak with him about, only that it was extremely important.

"Take a seat," He said, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk.

I hesitantly sat down as Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk. His pale hands were folded on the old wooden desk, and he watched me as I shifted in my chair.

"I think I know what you wish to speak with me about, Mister Black," Dumbledore said.

"Do you?" I asked, meeting his gaze.

"You have theories. You want the locket back," He stated.

I tilted my head slightly. "Ah, that," I said. "As much as I would love to get that Horcrux back from you, that is not what I wish to talk about."

Dumbledore sat up straighter.

"Then what is it you wish to speak with me about?"

"The night the McKinnon's were murdered."

I see his face fall momentarily, but it is quickly covered up by his normally unreadable expression.

"Such a tragic night," Dumbledore said. "Marlene was one of our best."

I can feel him trying to get into my mind. Legilimency. Unfortunately for him, I've been practicing Occlumency since I was thirteen years old.

"Meredith's memory was tampered with that night," I announced. "She could recall every event of that night except for who the other attacker was. She only saw Barty."

Dumbledore nodded, "If I remember correctly, Miss McKinnon was very worked up when I saw her that night."

"It's Black."

"Well it was McKinnon at the time," Dumbledore said. "Her memory was already tampered with when Mister Trouche brought her to me that night."

"Was it?" I asked.

Dumbledore shifted in his seat. "Are you questioning my authority, Mister Black?" He asked.

"No, of course not," I replied. "I'm just a bit confused about the situation. I was hoping you could give me some clarity."

He didn't respond. The older wizard just waited for me to speak again.

"You know I grew up with Barty? Had almost all of my classes with him for seven years, and shared a dormitory with him for seven years."

"Yes, I do recall that," He said.

I sighed, "It's a shame, he was never good at complex spells. This one time in particular he got caught out past curfew and tried to cast a memory charm on the Prefect. It was completely useless, he got even more detention time for attempting something like that."

Dumbledore remained silent.

"Then there was Pettigrew. My brother was best friends with him for a decade. Completely useless when it came to anything more than a simple charm."

"Complicated spells never seemed to be Mister Pettigrew's strong suit," Dumbledore said, his voice impassive.

"So my question is," I began, "Why did you tamper with Meredith's memory that night? She knew who the spy was. You had plenty of time to manage the situation."

"Mister Black, that's a very serious accusation you're making," Dumbledore said.

"And that's a very serious secret to keep," I replied. "There's a lot of blood on your hands."

Dumbledore stared at me. "All is fair in love and war," He said.

"It was you then?" I asked. "You being the only one that would and could successfully pull off a memory altering charm like that."

"Where was Mister Trouche when all this was happening?"

I sat up straighter, leaning forward a bit. "He was in love with her, why would you do that to someone you love?"

"If I remember correctly, Mister Black, you did a lot of things that hurt the people you love. Your wife being hurt the most."

"Never purposely," I defended. "You did this on purpose. You had the power to change things."

Dumbledore stood up from his seat, and I watched as he walked across his office. He walked over to the pensieve.

"Come here, Mister Black," He beckoned.

I slowly got up and walked over towards him. The fog was rolling over the edge of the pensieve.

"Go on, take a look. You can see first hand what happened the night the McKinnon's died," He said.

I looked up at Dumbledore, then down at the pensieve in front of me.

I'm standing in the corner of the McKinnon's living room. Meredith is seated on the couch between Marlene and her mum. Her dad is sitting in the armchair. All four of them are watching some movie on the television.

The doorbell rings, and after some bickering, Marlene gets up to answer it.

I look at Meredith, who is still watching the movie. She looks so young, only twenty at the time. She also looks happy.

I follow Marlene towards the door, where I watch her open it.

"Peter?" She asked. "What're you doing here? Are you alright?"

"I-, I'm sorry, Marlene. Please forgive me."

The room erupts into chaos, and I barely have time to process what is going on before her dad's dead body hits the floor and another spell is being thrown at her mum.

Barty is in the living room, a Death Eater mask on.

Peter has Marlene pinned against the wall, she and Meredith are wandless.

Barty chases Meredith up the stairs, sending a spell that sets the banister on fire.

I follow both of them up the stairs, not sure that I want to see what happens next.

Barty grabs Meredith by the hair and taunts her. She has a look of utter panic on her face as Barty reveals himself.

"See, it'll be okay. We made it easy for mum and dad, didn't we?"

She thrashes against his hold, but he only tightens his grip on her and presses his wand against her temple.

"Don't worry, you'll be with them soon. Maybe you'll even see Reggie."

She stills, then only thrashes against him harder. She's sobbing, tears rolling down her cheeks. The hallway is on fire now and it's creeping towards them.

She closes her eyes, looking like she's accepting her fate.

Then, Barty goes limp and just tips over, his hand falling out of his hand. Wandless, nonverbal magic.

Meredith has a shocked look on her face, then she runs.

She runs into her room and grabs her wand, apparating away.

The scene changes and she's in Jack's living room, completely frantic.

Jack comes running out of his bedroom, still half asleep. I roll my eyes at him, wishing that he could see me.

Meredith cries and explains everything through choked sobs, and Jack just holds her as she sobs.

He tells her they need to see Dumbledore, and the scene changes again.

They step out of the fireplace, and into Dumbledore's office. He stands in his office, watching the both of them.

Meredith is still crying, her entire body red and she looks out of breath from crying so hard.

Dumbledore tells them to sit, he brings them tea. Meredith explains everything again, and Dumbledore watches with a blank expression.

"Peter Pettigrew-," Meredith chokes out, "He's the spy."

"I see, Miss McKinnon. I will handle it immediately," Dumbledore says.

It's quick, but Dumbledore pulls out his wand and begins to alter Meredith's memory.

"Hey-, what are you doing?" Jack yells, getting out of his chair.

"I'm just helping her clear her mind."

Jack is next. Dumbledore alters his memory, and both of them look at each other with blank expressions before looking at Dumbledore.

"Miss McKinnon, everyone will think that you died with the rest of your family. If you run, you'll no longer have a target on your back," Dumbledore explains. "If you want to live, you need to leave, and not tell anyone that you're still alive. You can come back when the war is over and it's safe."

"But-" She protests.

"They'll make sure to kill you next time they see you."

The scene ends and I'm back in Dumbledore's office, standing over the pensieve.

I stared at him. "It was you then, I saw it," I stated.

Dumbledore just shook his head. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Mister Black."

"But-"

That's when it hits me.

It doesn't hurt that much, but any alteration of the memory causes some discomfort.

Just as soon as it starts, it's over.

I blinked up at Dumbledore, suddenly extremely confused as to why I'm here right now.

"Mister Black, are you feeling alright? You look ill," He said.

I shook my head. "Yes, you're right, I'm not actually sure why I'm here."

"Go home, rest."

"Okay," I said, "Sorry-, I don't know why I'm here."

Dumbledore stared at me. "That's alright. Feel better soon."

I step into the fireplace with a handful of Floo powder, my head throbbing, and feeling exhausted.

Dumbledore watched me as I threw down the powder and went home.