"I can't stay long, but I wanted to give this to you and see if you can make him talk." Peter Pettigrew stood at the counter of the curry shop below the flat in East London, checking the watch wrapped about his wrist nervously. He hesitated slightly as he pushed the drawing across the counter. "He won't talk to me."

Oni Lamm picked up the rolled up parchment that was the drawing, her heart beating terribly fast. "Won't Sirius notice it's gone?" she asked.

"He hasn't yet," Peter replied. "But still just the same, I'll come back in the morning for it so I can put it back before he does notice. He'll be busy tonight so he won't have a chance to miss it before morning. Just be careful of it, alright?"

Oni nodded, "Of course I will." She paused, holding the roll as though it were made of gold. "Thank you for bringing it to me."

"Yeah, of course." Peter's cheeks were flushed. "He asked to be brought to you."

"Did he?" Oni thrilled.

"He said he didn't want to talk to anybody else."

Oni flushed and held the roll to her heart.

"Anyways, I have to go," Peter said quickly. He didn't like the way it made him feel when Oni Lamm thrilled over the idea of Regulus Black having asked for her, didn't like the way her cheeks pinkened at the thought of Regulus Black. Peter sourly reminded himself that it didn't matter how Oni reacted to his name or the thought of him - he was truly and sincerely gone. Not that it made it any easier for him, Peter, to distract her away from swooning over a memory. He couldn't even compete with dead blokes.

Scrambling out the door and up the stairs to the flat, Peter hurriedly got changed and rushed for the floo powder. He was running late, supposed to have been to the Potters five minutes before. He wasn't part of the wedding party, though, so he reckoned it didn't truly matter if he was a bit late. When he stepped through the floo into the Potter's living room, it was to find Dora Potter on the couch knitting as usual. 

"Hiya Mrs. P," Peter said as he dusted off and got to his feet.

"Hello Peter! They're all outback, you'll want to run on out there," Dora replied, smiling. "I think they've got the bonfire already lit."

"Thanks Mrs. P," Peter said, and he ran for the back door.

Sure enough, the back yard was alight, a huge bonfire set in the middle of the field behind the Potter house where they usually played quidditch, and 'round it were big logs for sitting. Peter thought of the celebration they'd had for Moony's birthday back in March, except this was much more attended and they were all lads here tonight - the girls were off doing their hen party with Meg. But it seemed nearly every lad they knew from Hogwarts was there - half the Hufflepuff quidditch team and Meg's brother and Oliver Kent and Bilius and the Prewitts, Sean Buckner and Jasper's own brothers, despite being muggles... The bonfire blazed bright and filled the whole field with a warm, encompassing glow.

"Hey Pete's here!" James shouted, seeing Peter coming running across the grass. "Grab yourself a bottle of butterbeer and come join us!"

Peter nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a bottle from a large tub filled of ice and butterbeers and pumpkin juice and gilly waters. He sank onto a log next to Remus and Sirius, and fought to unscrew the cap. "Did I miss anything?" he asked eagerly.

"No, you've just made it in time," Remus murmured.

Jasper sat on a wood chair in the center of attention and James stood before him, a bottle of butterbeer in his fist, which he raised now and he said, "Jasper, I'm honored you chose me to be your best man, though you had a hundred options - men far better than me, by far - and yet I was selected and I hope not to let you down."

"Impossible - James Potter, you couldn't let me down if you tried to," Jasper smiled.

James smiled back, "Well, when you asked me to be the ring leader of this shindig, you mentioned that you wanted a best man who would help at directing you how to go on the marriage. The old custom of best man and woman being the pair that would be most likely able to guide you through marriage, like a second in a duel but far more important. Well, I'm new at this, too, Jaz, and I only have so much advice... so... I've asked some of the most brilliant couples I know to share their greatest bits of advice with you tonight."

Jasper was grinning, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." James looked 'round, "Longbottom?"

Frank stood up and raised his bottle of butterbeer to Jasper as a cheers, then said, "I'm new at it, too, but I reckon one of the greatest bits I can give you is to remember the first time you realized you loved her, everyday remember it. But be reminded of it in the stuff she does and the things she is. I mean when she laughs and her nose crinkles - or she gets embarrassed and she blushes and it's like all her freckles connected together - whatever it is, whatever small it is... just remind yourself everyday."

Jasper nodded.

Frank turned, "Lupin?"

Remus stood - Sirius helped him up as his knees were bothering him, then sat back down - and Remus cleared his throat and he said, "When you have fights - and you will, that's just a matter of fact - stop and take a seat at a table and take turns talking. Don't interrupt each other, just listen, and listen with your whole heart. They feel the way they feel for a reason, and the moment you let sight of that get away from you, you're going to turn against each other. You're on the same team, remember, and whatever happens - you've gotta have faith in them." He smiled, nodded, then sat down, Sirius guiding him to sit. He nudged Sirius.

Sirius stood up, "Be someone she wants to sing for. If Meg likes singing, I mean, let her sing. Let her sing and sing and sing and even if it's horrible or you hate the song or whatever. And if it's not singing she does - whatever her version of singing is. Whatever that quirky little thing she does when she's happy is. Skipping? Dancing? Painting? Talking a thousand words a minute? Whatever it is. Just let her do it and enjoy it even because it means you're making her happy. Don't ever clip her wings or hold her back. Support her, lift her up, pusher forward, tell her she's fucking beautiful and mean it with all your heart... and always remember you're a lucky motherfucker to have found her."

Jasper laughed, "Odair's the joke!"

"You knew I had to work it in somewhere, ferfuckssake," Sirius said. "Giddy?"

Gideon Prewitt stood up. "Make her breakfast in bed. Bring her home flowers. Sing songs to her too - " he nodded at Sirius who grinned back, " - be the one that gets up when the baby cries at three in the bleedin' morning. Compliment her new hair style, her new dress, whatever it is. Don't let a day go by you don't show her you appreciate her. Never take her for granted. Ever. Do stuff to show her you're not." He turned. "Lovegood."

Xenophilius stood up and cleared his throat, adjusted a silver chain that hung about his neck, and said, "I have given to you... amongst your wedding gifts... the new growth of a young dirigible bush. The dirigible... is a most... amazing... plant. The fruit of the dirigible bush... a dirigible plum... hangs upside down. The wizard which invented the dirigible balloon - zepplins, if you will - names them such for the way the zeppelin resembles the dirigible plum. It seems suspended in the air. Now the plum is very exceptional and its mere presence - with such an impossible appearance to it's stature - allows the witch or wizard to believe in the extraordinariest things! You shall take this dirigible and nurture it and keep it in your home in some place of prominence where you should see it everyday and believe in the extraordinary. Be the extraordinary thing that you believe in - your marriage, your love, that is." Xeno sat awkwardly - fast, as though his knees had given out below him.

Florean Fortescue - the real Fortescue, that is - stood up next, although Xeno had not called upon him, and he said, "Jasper, my boy, I may not be married, but I have loved and my advice is this... Similar to what Mr. Prewitt said on the subject of never taking your girl for granted, and to echo the sentiments of Mr. Black before... I tell you to never forget how lucky you are to have  found love. It is a precious commodity and not everyone gets to find or have the love of their life. So hang on to it with all your strength. Never let it fade. Never let it go. Love her until the day you're parted by death... and even still, love her long after." Florean smiled and as he sat, he said, "Bones?"

Edgar Bones stood. "This one's a bit peculiar. Wifey and I took a flight on an aeroplane with some muggle friends. They've got these safety features - if the plane is in danger, they release oxygen masks from the ceiling. Funny things they are, little face coverings that blow air into your nose so you can breathe properly if the cabin pressure's off or what have you. So the attendant instructs us all how to use'em and they say that in the event of an emergency, you put the mask on yourself before helping others put theirs on - including your own kids." Edgar mimed putting on a mask. "Well - you understand instinct and all is to save your family, especially your little ones, first. The instruction just didn't sit right with me. So later, I asked the attendant and she said that you put yours on first because in order to care for the people you love properly you've got to be taken care of yourself. So that's a radical idea, yeah? But it's true. You've got to take care of yourself for her. And you have to take care of your marriage first. Remember the kids are only as happy and healthy and you are and your marriage is only as happy and healthy as you are. So it isn't selfish to take care of yourself - but you take care of yourself to care for your family." Edgar cheersed with his bottle and sat, saying, "Back to you, Potter."

James stood back up. "When Evans and I got married, somebody gave us a key with a note on it that said it was the key to a long and happy life. We haven't figured out who gave it to us or what, exactly, it meant, except perhaps a metaphor of sorts, but we keep it on our dresser and everyday and I look at it every morning. I think maybe it's just a reminder to live in the moment and that the key is to not lose sight of the key? Don't forget the advice you've been given, it's all good sound advice. Don't give up on each other, don't take each other for granted, kiss each other, love each other, think about each other, do stuff together, do stuff for each other, be brave for one another, be strong for one another - make each other stronger. Be extraordinary. All good stuff. All true. But they key is to remember it in the moment, yeah? A key is only as good as it is used. So the key to all this advice is to use the bloody key. Unlock doors you find closed and open them. Open your hearts. Stay open. Never lock them up again. Take the advice you got, and any more you get here on out, and USE IT."

Oni Lamm let her Uncle know she was going to her room before she disappeared from the curry shop. She locked her bedroom door and set to glowing the lanterns and candles she preferred to electrical lights and set herself down on the floor on the opposite side of her bed from the door, her back against the bed frame, the roll of paper Peter Pettigrew had given her still clutched against her chest.

Her hands were shaking when she unrolled the paper and there he was - Regulus Black - as drawn by Remus Lupin. Remus had done an unparalleled job at capturing Regulus's features, Oni had to admit. The shape of his eyes, the length of his eyelashes, the quirk to his mouth, angle of his chin... These were all things that Regulus had shared with Sirius, things that were from his bloodline, his family. The curls in his thick hair, the shading in his eyes which Remus had captured even with pencils and charcoal, the lines of his face when he smiled, how the apples of his cheeks were so prominent... all this, Remus had captured. 

But he'd missed a small scar on Regulus's left jaw and there were a couple of moles he'd missed, too. Missed the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled a certain degree - his most common smile, the one that wasn't quite entirely unhinged, when he was still holding back, holding onto that dignified air.

It was Regulus, but it wasn't quite him. It was only what Remus Lupin knew of him.

Suddenly, Oni wasn't surprised that Peter had had such a hard time getting to talk to Regulus. A portrait acts the way that the artist perceives their subject, after all, and Remus had been convinced during the confrontation in the hall at St. Mungo's that Regulus Black would tell Oni things that he wouldn't tell anyone else - thus, the Portrait had told Peter that it would tell Oni things that he wouldn't tell anyone else, too, following the character pattern Remus had unintentionally instilled in the drawing.

"Regulus?" she asked quietly.

She watched the sentience come, watched the life awaken in the eyes of the portrait, watched him move, as though stretching his neck and his eyes blinked from being a drawing to being awake.

"Oni," Portrait-Regulus said. "I can't believe that stupid rat of a boy actually listened and brought my portrait to you."

Even the way he spoke was different than the real Regulus Black would've spoken, the vocabulary, the order of the words... Oni sighed. Would this version of Regulus remember what had happened? Or would his memories be as clipped as his tone?

"He did, he did listen," Oni nodded. She felt like she was speaking to an imposter and her heart ached as she looked at the portrait.

"Very good," Portrait-Regulus said. "He mentioned you had questions for me."

Oni nodded, "We do... Regulus, we want to try to avenge your death, to stop the Dark Lord... but I need your help in order to do it." She paused. "Do you know how you died?"

The Portrait shook his head - no. 

Oni bit her lips. It was just as she feared. The Portrait didn't know because Remus didn't know. And because the portrait wasn't an officially commissioned one, the memories hadn't been stored; no actual piece of Regulus Black was in the portrait, the sentience here was an extension of Remus Lupin's own magic, and possibly the sheer will power of Sirius Black. What would exist here would be a shell - the memories that Remus knew about or had been told about, but nothing entirely secret from Remus, except possibly some shadow of some of Sirius's memories, if Sirius had spoken with the Portrait much. It wasn't a true living portrait.

Oni sighed and hung her head.

To give the Portrait credit, he looked genuinely concerned, and it was easy to imagine he felt guilty at being unable to answer Oni's questions.

"But perhaps the journals I kept would help?" Portrait-Regulus asked.

Oni looked up.

"I had quite a lot of them with me, at St. Mungo's."

She stared at him.

"I - I'll reckon if I kept them with me that I updated them often."

"Do you know what happened to them?" Oni asked the Portrait. 

Portrait-Regulus's lips twisted and he shook his head, "I'm afraid not," he answered. "Perhaps I had them with me when I perished?"

"Perhaps," Oni replied, "But we don't know where you died."

"Oh." Portrait-Regulus frowned. "That sounds quite terrible. It must've been an exquisitely dramatic death, then, if you don't even know where I died or how." He paused. "Sirius seems to know how I died."

"Yes, but he's your brother and he's privvy to that sort of thing. I'm not."

"I would have wanted you to be privvy to it," the Portrait said.

Oni shrugged.

"My brother has my watch," Portrait-Regulus said, "The watch he gave me for my birthday. I always kept that with me as well as the journals that you're wanting. Perhaps my brother has all of my personal effects, since he has the watch."

"It isn't as though I can just ask him," Oni said.

Portrait-Regulus chuckled. "It isn't as though rat boy asked Sirius for my Portrait, either, but here we are."

"That's true."

"Have the rat sneak in and look about for them... then you can see if there's something in there that would explain my expiration. Perhaps it was something I was expecting. It is likely, after all, given my past, that I perished at the hand of the Dark Lord. You can use whatever it in the journals to piece together what really happened to me. Perhaps that would be enough for what you need?"