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Chapter Text

[MsMsMs]

The day after the dueling task, Margo and Mr. Black went over to Grimmauld. There was supposed to be some fancy party at Hogwarts tonight, but Margo wasn’t allowed to go to it. As Lord Sirius led them into his sitting room, he glanced at her. “What did you think about the task yesterday?”

“It was real exciting,” Margo said, smiling at the man. “Tahiil turned into a hyena during his fight against Krum! But even though his teeth looked super sharp, Krum still beat him.”

“Animagus forms can be pretty useful.” Lord Sirius grinned as he sat down, his eyes glinting with mischief as he glanced at his brother. “Perhaps when you’re older, Reggie will help you go through the process of finding your form.”

Mr. Black’s lips twitched as he sat on the couch opposite his brother’s. “Becoming an animagus is difficult magic, and involves filing paperwork with the Ministry once you reach a certain stage in the process.”

Margo wrinkled her nose as she sat beside Mr. Black. “Why d’you need to do paperwork?”

“Because being an unregistered animagus is against the law,” Lord Sirius said, shrugging, “If you’re caught as one, you’re sentenced to Azkaban for a time and forced to register your form. It’s a headache best avoided.”

“Are you an animagus, Mr. Black?” Margo asked her guardian. The man shook his head, something sullen in his expression.

“I never finished the process. Part of becoming an animagus requires you to accept the qualities of your animal form are your own.”

“D’you not like yours?” Margo asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Accepting my form proved... difficult,” Mr. Black said, and Margo wondered what animal he was supposed to turn into.

“That’s the part most people who attempt the process get stuck on,” Lord Sirius said, offering his brother a sympathetic look. Annoyance crossed Mr. Black’s face as he shook his head.

“Regardless of my own difficulties, should becoming an animagus interest you when you are older, we can discuss the process in more detail then.”

Margo nodded, and Lord Sirius grinned. “Being an animagus is great, but I’d rather hear about Archie’s duels.”

“Did you watch them in Diagon Alley?” Mr. Black asked, and Lord Sirius shook his head.

“No. Arch didn’t want us to watch him compete.”

So Mr. Black started recounting Archie’s duels, and Margo added her thoughts every once in a while. But she didn’t really wanna talk about them, since all the things Mr. Black said ‘bout Archie’s fight against Antiope only reminded Margo that it would make more sense if it’d actually been Harry dueling yesterday.

Sleep hadn’t helped. Margo was pretty sure it’d been Harry fighting in the tournament yesterday, not Archie. But she’d realized something bad when she woke up this morning, something that made her wish she was wrong.

If it was Harry yesterday, then that meant she was pretending to be Archie.

Even if it’d just been so Archie could get past the dueling task, it was still bad.

Not ‘cause of it being cheating, but ‘cause Archie was a pureblood, and Harry a halfblood.

Margo remembered Mr. Black telling her ‘bout Blood Identity Theft, and she didn’t want Harry getting arrested for having helped Archie win some duels.

So while she joined in the talk ‘bout the duels, Margo tried turn Mr. Black and Lord Sirius’ attention to those things that Archie had done that didn’t remind her of Harry.

It was a little easier than she thought it’d be. Probably ‘cause Mr. Black hadn’t seen Harry’s duels in the freedueling tournament, so he didn’t see all the similarities between what Archie had done yesterday and what Harry did then.

Lord Sirius listened eagerly to everything they told him, and Margo felt sorta guilty. If Harry and Archie had switched places, then they weren’t really telling the man about his son. Still, Lord Sirius cared for Harry too, so mayhaps it was okay.

As talk shifted to the Yule Ball, Margo wondered if she should try finding proof that Harry and Archie had switched places for the dueling task. Mayhaps she could try asking Archie to show her how to do the rune he’d used against Feiyan?

Part of her wanted to tell Mr. Black, but what if he told on Harry? She knew he didn’t really like her ‘cause of her da, and sometimes folks did silly things when they didn’t like somebody. Mayhaps she could talk to Leo. Not ‘bout if he’d taught Archie the banishing trick, ‘cause Leo was smart enough to figure out what Harry and Archie had done if she gave him any clues. If they had actually switched places...

Oh, trying to figure this out was making Margo’s head hurt. Mayhaps it’d be better if she just decided it had been Harry, and keep hush ‘bout it.

Her friend couldn’t get sent to Azkaban if nobody knew she’d pretended to be Archie.

Decided, Margo relaxed and focused on listening to Mr. Black as he tried to talk Lord Sirius out of wearing some silly robes to the party tonight.

Since Margo wasn’t invited to the party, she’d asked to stay with Rispah for the night. When Mr. Black dropped her off, Margo waited until she heard him apparate away before she turned to the older woman and asked, “D’you think I could talk to Leo?”

Rispah’s face shifted, concern replacing the ease that had been there. “Yeah. Is something wrong?”

Margo shrugged. “Nah, I just got a question for him.”

Rispah nodded slowly, the concern still in her eyes. “I’ll send him a message,” she said, and left the room.

Margo moved over to the couch, debating what she was gonna ask Leo. She needed advice on how to keep a big secret, and Leo always knew what to do. Leo cared ‘bout folks, and always listened when they wanted to talk. He’d be able to help her.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on Rispah’s door. When the woman opened it, Leo stepped into the apartment. His hazel gaze landed on Margo, and he smiled at her. “Heard you wanted to talk to me, Margo.”

“Yeah.” Margo nodded, and watched as Rispah left the room. Leo walked over and sat on the other side of the couch, seeming just as relaxed here as he did at the Phoenix.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“How d’you keep being the Rogue secret from your da?” Margo asked, trying not to fidget. That was a big secret, just like Harry’s, so mayhaps Margo could use the same tricks Leo did.

Leo leaned back against the couch. “Well, Da thinks I work with Ma at the clinic. I do help out there when I can, and Ma tells Da about what I do there. Before that, though, Da thought I was just fooling around with my friends. Wasting time being a teenager, instead of focusing on what I wanted to do with my life, and so on. I encouraged that, of course. If he thought I was doing one thing, and had some proof to go with that thought, then why would he look any deeper?” Leo paused, something sad crossing his face. “It’s hard, keeping a secret from somebody you love. But with Da’s position as Aldermaster of the Potions Guild, he can’t exactly be part of what I do down here. He’s too visible a figure, for one. And while he’s supportive of Ma’s work at the clinic, he wouldn’t understand what I do as Rogue.”

“So you let him think you’re something different?” Margo asked, trying not to frown.

“Exactly. I don’t like it, but it’s better that I keep my da in the dark.” Leo said quietly, then turned his head to meet her gaze. “Do you have something you’re trying to hide from Master Black?”

Margo nodded, her voice soft. “Yeah.”

Leo shook his head slightly. “I won’t ask what it is, Margo, but I do want to know one thing: does this secret put you in any danger?”

Margo frowned, her brows furrowing. She remembered Mr. Black saying that helping someone else pretend to be a pureblood was just as bad as pretending to be one yourself, but if she didn’t tell nobody what she knew, then how would they know she knew? Harry didn’t know, so was keeping this a secret really helping her? “Mayhaps?” Margo shook her head. “But I dunno if this secret is a secret, so if I don’t talk ‘bout it, than everything should be alright, right?”

Leo studied her, and Margo shifted uncomfortably. “If you need any help, Margo, I’m here. Whatever this possible secret is, I’ll help you keep it.”

“Thanks,” Margo smiled at the older boy. He was lots better than Kayfer, but this was Harry’s secret, not hers. She wouldn’t snitch on her friend, not even to the Rogue.

Leo returned her smile. “I’ve other things I can teach you about keeping a secret from someone, if you’d like to learn them. They might not all work with your secret, but at least a few should.”

“I wanna learn them,” Margo said eagerly. Coming to Leo for help was always a good thing, even if she couldn’t tell him what she was hiding.

[RbRbRb]

Regulus watched Margo vanish through the floo, then checked his watch. He would have a few hours before Narcissa sent his ward back from her lesson. Which should be more than sufficient time.

Putting on his boots, Regulus turned to Kreacher and accepted a muggle overcoat from him. “You are certain she is home?”

“Yes, Master Regulus,” Kreacher croaked, peering at him carefully. Straightening his coat, Regulus breathed in.

“I shall return before Margo,” He said, his tone carefully neutral. What he intended to do was distasteful, but considering why he was seeking this meeting, Regulus supposed harboring such emotion was hypocritical.

Dipping his head to his friend, Regulus turned in his heel and disapparated.

Reappearing in an empty alley, he slowly walked out onto the main street, wishing his coat had a hood as snow fell upon his head. It took a few minutes to find the house he wanted, but soon enough Regulus approached a snowy yard. Opening the gate, he felt the moment he passed through wards. He paused briefly, considering. Cravers wouldn’t work with a blood traitor... while the wards have enough presence to be noticeable on approach, they lack the distinct hum of a Dewford... which leaves Fallow.

A decent Ward Master, though he hadn’t worked with the man. Regulus knew these wards wouldn’t be noticeable to most wizards, but as with most in his profession, he’d gained a sensitivity to wards over the years. There were certain traits one found in wards created by particular Ward Masters, and such traits were easier to notice on newer wards. Unless the Ward Master purposefully worked to hide them, that was.

Shaking his head, Regulus continued up the plowed walk. Upon reaching the door, he gave the knocker three distinct raps.

Then he waited.

The door opened, and Andromeda’s eyes met his, surprise flickering in them before they narrowed. “Regulus.”

“Andromeda.” Regulus dipped his head politely, and saw her lips thin.

“Why are you here?” she asked flatly. She was poised to close the door at any moment, and Regulus knew he had limited time to explain himself.

And so he dropped decorum. “I need your advice.”

“What?” Andromeda’s eyebrow rose skeptically, but she didn’t close the door. Regulus breathed in, pushing away the niggling discomfort that he was speaking with a blood traitor, that he’d purposefully sought her out.

“I need your advice, cousin,” He saw her flinch slightly at the word cousin, but continued on, “might I take an hour of your time?”

Andromeda studied him intently, face expressionless. Finally, she stepped to the side.

“Come out of the cold, Regulus, and explain exactly what you came here for.”

Regulus stepped into the warm house, removing his coat as Andromeda shut the door. There was a bench nearby, and Regulus paused at it to remove his snow-coated boots. Then he followed his cousin down a hall until they reached a cozy living room. Andromeda motioned to a chair, and he sat.

She vanished back into the hall, and Regulus carefully compiled his thoughts while he awaited her return.

A few minutes later, Andromeda returned bearing a tray of tea. She set it on the table between the chairs, then sat down opposite him. Picking up one of the cups, she spoke. “You’re the second-to-last person I expected to see at my door. What advice could you possibly want from a blood traitor?”

Lifting his own teacup, Regulus glanced at the dark liquid within, but didn’t drink. “How did you come to the decision that marrying your muggleborn was worth sacrificing your place in society?”

“I didn’t weigh the worth of my love for Ted like that.” Andromeda shook her head slowly. “Besides, I had already been considering becoming Neutral before I met him. My father’s ultimatum merely pushed me to become Light instead.”

“You were going to become Neutral?” Regulus hadn’t known that. Andromeda took a sip of her tea, then nodded.

“I was. My last two years at Hogwarts were spent considering our world, my place in it, and whether I wanted to follow the path expected of me. My sisters and I were considered as highly suitable brides, you know.” She smiled, and it was a bitter thing. “Three healthy magical children, all born within four years of each other? People gossiped about our likelihood of passing a possible resistance to the Fade on to our children. Bella and Rodolphus married immediately out of school, while it was obvious Lucius and Narcissa were smitten with each other. Part of what drew me to Ted was how he didn’t see me merely as a possible way to evade the Fade.”

Regulus shook his head. “Your sisters have no such resistance,” he said quietly, and Andromeda sighed.

“I know. But that was what those in Dark Society saw when they looked at us. I was supposed to use that hope to seize the most advantageous marriage for myself— one which would benefit my family, even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness.”

“Were you motivated by a sense of rebellion, then?” he asked, trying not to frown. His brother was the rebellious one, not him.

“No. I fell in love with a boy who loved me for who I was. Not for some faint chance at evading the Fade, or for my family name, wealth, or political position. Ted saw me, and encouraged me to pursue what I wanted, instead of what would help me move up in society,” Andromeda said, and frowned at him. “Why are you here, Regulus? You still seemed content to continue ignoring my existence at your brother’s birthday party, and I doubt you care about how I came to marry my husband.”

Taking a sip of hot tea to drown his misgivings, Regulus considered the woman before him. Her motivations wouldn’t help him. He had a good life: work he enjoyed, family whom he cared for, an acceptable position within society.

Adopting Margo wouldn’t improve any of that. No, all the action would do was cost him much of what he already enjoyed.

He would lose clients. Friendships. His position in the SOW Party. Bellatrix, and possibly Narcissa.

Is gaining a daughter worth the cost? he wondered. Breathing in, Regulus met Andromeda’s gaze and spoke words he wouldn’t be able to renege, “I am debating whether to adopt my ward and make her my heir. As you are the only member of our family to have a halfblood child, I decided to seek your advice.”

Andromeda gaped at him. Silence stretched between them as Regulus waited for her to speak, his hands tightening around his teacup as doubt gnawed at him. It was the first time he’d spoken the intention out loud, and although it had felt right, could he trust such a fickle thing as feelings? Especially in regards to a decision which would impact every area of his life?

Setting down her teacup, Andromeda spoke carefully, “You want to adopt your ward? Your halfblood ward?”

“Yes.”

“And make her your heir?”

“Yes.”

“Despite such action going against the family motto?”

Toujours Pur. Always Pure.

“I have... reconsidered my stance,” Regulus said slowly, finding it difficult to hold his cousin’s gaze. She didn’t know what his mother had done, how he couldn’t have children of his own. If he could, would he still wish to adopt Margo?

Yes, he thought, the affirmation coming from someplace deep within him. Margo wasn’t simply a way to carry on his own legacy, but a child he’d grown to love with a fierceness which frightened him. When had this emotion settled within him? How had it rooted itself so firmly within his heart without his notice?

Would he survive if it were forcefully uprooted?

“Reconsidered your stance,” Andromeda echoed, her skepticism plain. “The girl deserves more than that, Regulus. Do you love her?”

“I do,” he said, allowing the weight of his conviction into his voice. “I don’t know when I started to love her, Andromeda, but I do. I love her as if she were my daughter, and it terrifies me.”

“It terrifies you?” she asked, and he gave a bitter laugh.

“How could it not? She is a halfblood, something which I have always spurned as being lesser than myself. Something which, should Lord Riddle’s marriage law pass come June, will make her a highly prized target for anyone wishing to incorporate her father’s gift into their line. And yet, this seven-year-old girl is anything but lesser. She’s a ray of sunlight after the storm, a fresh breeze that blew away the dust coating my relationship with my brother.” Regulus shook his head. “Margo has already changed my life. How could I not be terrified of what adopting her might bring?”

Andromeda reached across the table, rescuing the teacup from his white-knuckle grip. Then she surprised him by taking his hands in hers. “Regulus. Cousin. Forget about politics. Forget about your place in society. If you truly love this child like a daughter, then forget everything you’ve ever done to try and repair whatever degradation you believe Sirius has caused to the Black Family name. If you choose to adopt Margo, you must be willing to put her first. Whatever changes come from this, she must be your priority. Can you do that?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Regulus squeezed Andromeda’s hands as he thought through his answer. Taking a fortifying breath, he answered.

“I can.”

[MsMsMs]

Stepping out of the floo at Grimmauld, Margo looked round the empty floo room. Nobody expected her, but Lord Sirius didn’t mind her coming round. Heading out into the hall, she started up the stairs to the library. Archie was usually in the library when home for the hols, or over at Potter Place with Harry. She hoped he wasn’t with Harry right now though, ‘cause Harry was the trickier of the two, and Margo didn’t want to make them suspicious with her questions.

But she needed to know if this secret was real.

Entering the library, Margo did not grin when she saw her mark behind a stack of books. He didn’t hear her as she got close to his table, too busy scribbling something on a piece of parchment.

“Hi Archie!” Margo called cheerfully once she was next to the table, and the boy jumped in his seat, a line of ink marring his parchment as his hand jerked.

“Margo! You startled me,” the boy said, giving a shaky laugh. Margo eyed his pale face, and thought he didn’t look too good.

“You getting sick?” she asked. Archie nodded, lifting a hand to wipe a bit of sweat from his forehead.

“Think so. You probably shouldn’t stick around too long, I wouldn’t want you to catch whatever this is.” He gave her a weak smile, and Margo took a step away from the table.

“I just wanted to ask you something,” Margo said, widening her eyes and bouncing a little like she was excited. Archie’s eyes softened, and he nodded.

“Ask whatever you want, so long as it isn’t that we go get ice cream.”

“What was the rune you used against Feiyan in your duel?” Margo asked, crouching down to mime drawing something on the ground. “Y’know, when she was throwing fireballs at you.”

Her face was turned away from Archie, but she could still watch him through her hair. So she saw when he grimaced, eyes flickering around briefly before he lifted a hand and coughed into it. The coughs sounded real, and Margo made sure she seemed concerned when she looked up from her imaginary rune. “Ugh, I’d love to teach it to you, Margo, but I think I need to go lie down. Do you mind if I show it to you later?”

“Alright, Archie.” Margo nodded her head, letting her eyebrows come together like she was worried. “D’you want me to ask Lord Sirius to make you some soup? That always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

“No, no, I don’t think my stomach could handle any food.” Archie shook his head, cheeks looking a little green. Margo nodded again, then waved goodbye and left the library.

As she walked back down the stairs, Margo wondered if Archie was really sick. If he was, then mayhaps he really didn’t feel good enough to show her the rune.

But he could’ve told me its name, she thought, biting her lip as she reached the floo room. Part of her wanted to go ask Harry ‘bout the rune, or if she’d shown Archie some of her tricks. Only, doing that might make Harry suspicious, and Margo didn’t wanna let her friend know that she might know her secret.

Secrets were best kept when nobody else knew them, not less they needed to. Harry didn’t need to know Margo knew her and Archie’s secret, and now that the dueling task was done, they weren’t gonna be doing any more Blood Identity Theft, right?

I’m gonna say they did switch for the duels. Don’t know how, but I know why, and I’m gonna keep hush ‘bout it, Margo thought, nodding to herself. Grabbing a bit of floo powder, she tossed it into the fire and called, “Wisteria Cottage.”

Mind set about the secret, Margo stepped into the green flames to return home.

[RbRbRb]

At the start of April, Regulus found himself once more at Riddle Manor. Bowing to Lord Riddle, he wondered what the man wanted from him. He wasn’t currently engaged in any of the projects the SOW Party was working on. Admittedly, most of the party’ attention was focused on the tournament and the marriage legislation. Perhaps this meeting was regarding the latter, though Regulus disliked that thought of discussing the forthcoming law.

Not now. Not when he would have difficulty disguising his disgust for it.

After the initial pleasantries were dealt with, Lord Riddle spoke. “Your nephew is doing well in my tournament.”

“He has certainly proven himself a worthy heir.” Regulus dipped his head, allowing warm approval to coat his tone. Archie was his father’s son, but he knew how to balance upon the Neutral line far better than Sirius, and despite his hiccup with blood magic during the third task, he had regained the public’s approval since then.

“So he has,” Lord Riddle said, the faintest of smiles gracing his lips. “I have little doubt that he shall succeed in becoming the Blood Champion. His win shall only strengthen our cause.”

Regulus nodded, forcing none of his discomforting unease to show. He hadn’t forgotten Andromeda’s words, and they weighed upon his shoulders as he spoke. “Indeed.”

“But the boy still has two tasks remaining.” Lord Riddle said, steepling his fingers as he smiled. “One of which is why I have summoned you.”

“How might I be of service, my lord?” Regulus asked, mentally preparing to rearrange his schedule to accommodate whatever was requested of him.

“It is not your expertise which I seek, but your ward’s gift,” Lord Riddle replied, and it took all of Regulus’ self-control not to react as the man continued. “Her work for the second task was excellent, and another such storm would prove beneficial to the fifth task.”

Margo’s guilt flashed through Regulus’ mind, and the ember of anger he’d felt at this man for her pain flared to life. “No.”

“No?” Riddle repeated, his voice dangerous in its softness. “Do you disagree with the quality of storm your ward summoned?”

It was a generous out, a means for Regulus to backtrack from denying the powerful man before him. He would merely need to denigrate Margo’s spectacular skill at using her weather magic, and imply that the storm she had summoned for the second task had been subpar.

He couldn’t.

“No, Margaret’s control over her gift is superb. The storm she created for that task would have made her father proud.” Regulus lifted his chin and met Riddle’s eyes. “However, she will not make any more for your tournament.”

“Why not?” Riddle asked, a warning in his tone.

“The experience of watching contestants fall from the obstacle course due to her storm had a negative impact upon my ward, and I will not subject her to another such situation,” Regulus said smoothly, holding the man’s gaze.

Those blue eyes narrowed. “Are you certain you wish to deny me over the fragile sensibilities of a halfblood girl, Regulus?”

“I am,” he said unhesitatingly, fully aware of how he was threatening his position within the man’s Party. “I am the girl’s guardian, and must put her welfare first.”

Riddle was quiet, lips thin as he studied Regulus. There was no push against his mental shields, but Regulus still felt painfully exposed before the man.

When Riddle spoke, his voice was like ice. “The girl would recover. Do not allow any attachments you have developed for her cloud your judgment. Or have you reconsidered the benefit of her having my support?”

“Margaret will not summon another storm for you,” Regulus’ voice remained firm, and Riddle scowled.

“So be it. Begone, Regulus.”

Offering the man a slight bow unbefitting his power, Regulus turned and left, fueled by the hot anger which demanded he protect his ward.

The fifth task was needlessly cruel, even without a storm.

It sickened Regulus to watch his nephew suffer under the Draught of Delirium, let alone struggle to climb while under its influence.

Neither of the other two champions were faring well. Delacour was in especially poor form.

Glancing away from the tower, Regulus studied Margo’s concerned expression. She didn’t know of what Riddle had wanted from her today. Should Fate be so kind, she never would.

He didn’t regret denying the man use of his ward’s gift.

Despite already experiencing a taste of Riddle’s ire.

Though Regulus supposed losing a few warding commissions from members of the SOW Party now should only help prepare him for the dearth to come.

“I don’t like this,” Margo said softly, looking away from Archie to look at him with worried eyes.

“Neither do I,” Regulus replied with equal softness. A scream reached his ears, and Regulus jerked his head to look at the mirror broadcasting the champions’ progress.

Delacour had fallen.

As he watched her lie on that metal platform, tears streaming down her face as she struggled with limbs which refused to cooperate, Regulus didn’t see the French witch.

Red was superimposed over blonde in his mind’s eye, and his hands clenched with fury.

Interference with the task was forbidden. Although the halfblood was obviously in pain, no help would come until her competitors either reached the top or lost the ability to continue on.

This wasn’t a test of skill, but sheer torment.

Moving his hand, Regulus set it on Margo’s shoulder to reassure himself that the girl was still beside him, blinking his eyes to dismiss the phantom image from overtop the fallen witch. Margo met his gaze, a wavering smile forming as she softly spoke. “It’s okay, Mr. Black. Archie won’t fall.”

He returned her smile, despite knowing the foolishness of a child’s hope.

This wretched tournament was nearly over, and they would be there to support Archie through it.

No matter how ineffectual their support might be.

The day after the fifth task found Regulus at Grimmauld Place.

His brother’s face was ashen, hands locked around the arms of his chair as Regulus finished recounting Archie’s climb up the tower. When he finished, silence stretched between them for a few minutes.

Sirius released a shaky breath, his expression grim. “Well. Okay. That was terrifying to hear.” He breathed in, and slowly unclenched his hands from their death-grip. “I am not missing the final task. If my son is going to endanger his life, I will be there to catch him.”

Regulus nodded. “As you should.”

Sirius nodded back, the movement jerky. “Yeah. Yeah.” He huffed out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t what I wanted him to experience at Hogwarts. None of it. I should’ve just let him go off to AIM with Harry.”

Regulus bit his tongue before he could protest that sending the Black Heir to America would have been a worse decision. Instead, he took a steadying breath and carefully steepled his fingers to keep them from trembling.

“Brother, there was another matter I wished to discuss with you today.”

Sirius took a deep, steadying breath. “Please let it be less horrifying than my drugged son nearly falling off a tower.”

“It concerns your position as Lord Black,” Regulus began, and Sirius moaned.

“Reggie, please don’t tell me I need to remar—”

“As a Son of Black, I seek your permission to adopt Margaret Stormunger as my Heir,” Regulus interrupted his brother. Sirius froze, eyes wide as he stared at him. Refusing to fidget like a schoolboy awaiting a scolding, he continued. “In addition, I request that you, as the Black Head, welcome her into our family in both word and magic.”

Should Sirius welcome Margo into the Black family, the family magic would recognize her as one of their own. At least, those aspects of the family magic not bound to blood.

Of course, there was legal paperwork that would need to be filed with the Ministry, but that was mere annoyance compared to what Regulus sought here.

His father wouldn’t have granted this request.

Nor would grandfather Arcturus.

But Sirius? The brother he’d scorned for consorting with halfbloods and muggleborns, whom he’d thought a disgrace to the name of Black for turning Light and following Dumbledore?

The very qualities he’d despised in his brother were now where his hopes rested.

The irony was intolerable.

Sirius finally found his voice. “You want to adopt Margo?”

“Yes. Have I your permission?”

“Of course!” Sirius leapt from his chair, moving to grab Regulus’ hands and drag him to his feet. Once he was standing, his brother hugged him. “Of course you do! When do you want to do the ceremony?”

“I still need to ask Margo if she wants to be adopted,” Regulus said slowly, unsure when his own arms had wrapped around his brother. He felt Sirius’ laugh.

“I’m sure she will.”

The hug lasted a minute longer, then they parted. Sirius was grinning, the easy expression a stark contrast to his earlier agony. “I knew you’d see the light eventually.”

Regulus snorted. “Hardly. If anything, I shall join you as Neutral, but that is as far as I shall tread towards Dumbledore’s side.”

Sirius blinked, mouth opening and closing for a moment before he could find the words to respond. “Wait. Does this mean you’re leaving the SOW Party?”

“I am considering it,” Regulus said slowly.

“Riddle’ll be furious.”

“He is already displeased with me,” Regulus kept his tone light, as though denying a powerful man what he desired was a minor matter. Sirius shook his head.

“Do you need anything? Sanctuary, help fleeing the country, a job at Hogwarts?”

As if that worked for Pettigrew, Regulus thought disdainfully as he shook his head. “I will not flee into Dumbledore’s embrace— or from my home. Blacks are not so cowardly.”

“Not too sure about that, Reggie, given our family’s history of producing snakes,” Sirius said lightly, and Regulus lifted an eyebrow.

“Are you calling your own heir a coward?”

“Never. Just... let me know if there is anything I can do to help,” Sirius said, his voice earnest. “Whether with changing political factions or welcoming Margo fully into our family— I’m here for you, brother.”

Gripping Sirius’ hand, Regulus allowed himself the slightest of smiles. “I know, brother.”

[MsMsMs]

Lord Sirius was right: swim parties were great for birthdays.

And the party was especially fun, ‘cause Rispah came! While Margo splashed around with her friends, she sometimes saw the older redhead lazily circling round Mr. Black’s raft. The man was obviously trying to ignore Rispah, and ignore the looks that Mrs. Narcissa was giving them.

Margo was glad Lord Sirius was too busy having fun with her to tease his brother ‘bout Rispah’s friendly flirting, since her guardian looked uncomfortable enough just floating on his raft.

She wished Harry, Archie, and Draco could’ve been here, but they were still at school. And Leo had Rogue stuff he had to do that couldn’t be put off.

But Cora was here, and Henry and Jack! Jack even promised not to nick anything! So even though not everybody could come, it was still a fun party.

After they’d finished swimming and eaten all the cake, Margo flooed back to Wisteria Cottage with Mr. Black.

“Thanks for letting me have a swim party, Mr. Black,” Margo said as she took off her shoes. “I know you don’t like swimming, or what Lord Sirius did to the potions lab.”

“I can tolerate both,” Mr. Black said as he took off his own shoes, and she saw him grimace. “Narcissa’s forthcoming interrogation regarding Rispah, however, I shall avoid for as long as I can.”

“Aren’t you having tea in a couple days?” she asked curiously, and Mr. Black pinched the bridge of his nose with a look of pain.

“You are correct,” the man said, then took a deep breath and stood. “I shall prepare my defense tomorrow.”

“Why wait?” Margo asked, standing so she could put her shoes under the bench. Mr. Black looked at her, something odd flickering in his eyes.

“There is something I wish to discuss with you, Margaret.”

Nodding seriously, Margo followed Mr. Black to the living room. They sat on the couch, and she waited for him to say whatever was bothering him. She didn’t think it was ‘bout Archie and Harry switching for the third task, but she wasn’t going to bring that up.

She’d be a good secret keeper.

“You’ve been my ward for over two years now,” Mr. Black began, holding her gaze. “I understand that we didn’t begin with the most auspicious of circumstances, but I hope you have enjoyed living here thus far.”

Margo nodded, a seed of discomfort wiggling into her stomach. She spoke before it could take root. “Are you kicking me out?”

“What? No.” Mr. Black shook his head firmly, and Margo relaxed. “No, Margaret. I will never reject you from my home. Do you like living here?”

She nodded again. “Yeah. It’s nice, and the garden looks lots better than it used to.”

Mr. Black smiled slightly. “Indeed it does. Are you comfortable living with Kreacher and I?”

“Yeah. Why’re you asking?” Margo asked, wrinkling her brows. “D’you want to move?” Her eyes widened as an idea came to her, and she quickly added, “Or are you and Rispah gonna do more than friendly flirting?”

Mr. Black’s face reddened slightly, and he shook his head. “Nothing of the sort— though I am considering a change to the dynamics we have grown accustomed to.”

“What are you thinking?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Margaret,” Mr. Black held her gaze as he slowly spoke, “I want to discuss the possibility of adoption with you.”

Margo blinked. Did he mean adopting her? Like Lord Sirius told him to last summer? “Adoption?”

Mr. Black nodded. “I understand if you would rather we remain guardian and ward, but I have slowly come to consider you as a daughter, Margaret, and if you so desire, I would be honored to become your father.”

He did mean her! Something warm filled her chest, and Margo felt herself smile. “Never had a father before. I think you’d be a good da, Mr. Black.” Then something occurred to her, and Margo bit her lip. “But... what ‘bout me being a halfblood? That’s not good for the Black legacy.”

Mr. Black’s face turned pained, and Margo tried not to feel too disappointed as she glanced down at her hands. “I owe you an apology,” he said, and Margo jerked her head back up. “I have not hidden my dislike for halfbloods and muggleborns from you. While it is true that the Black family has one of the longest pureblood lineages in Magical Britain, our legacy is... it is more than what flows in our blood.” Reaching out slowly, he set his hand on her shoulder. “I would be proud to have you as a daughter, Margaret. As my daughter, and my heir.”

Blinking away the stinging in her eyes, Margo thought of something else important, and asked, “And this isn’t ‘cause of the life debt?”

Mr. Black shook his head. “It isn’t. Though if you find the thought of becoming my daughter agreeable, then I would prefer to settle the life debt before finalizing the adoption.”

Margo liked Mr. Black. She liked him, and Kreacher, and all the other folks in the Black family. Being part of a family again would be nice. She didn’t think Mum would mind if Mr. Black became her da. She didn’t know what Corentine would think ‘bout it, but mayhaps he’d be okay with it being Mr. Black.

Lifting her hand to the one on her shoulder, Margo smiled softly. “I’ll think of something, Mr. Black, ‘cause I’d like it if you were my da.”

Mr. Black’s smile was warm, and happy. He didn’t say anything for a minute, just smiled back at her. He gently squeezed her shoulder, then retracted his hand.

“I spoke with Sirius in anticipation you might agree. There is a minor ritual he can do, as the Black Family Head, to welcome you into our family. Doing so will make the family magic recognize you as a Black: though any artifacts which are tied to blood won’t accept you, the protections of Grimmauld Place will.”

Margo nodded. “Is that all we got to do?”

Mr. Black laughed lightly and shook his head. “No, there will be paperwork to file with the Ministry as well. And as the Black Heir, Archie should be present when Sirius welcomes you into the family. Do you mind waiting until he returns home for us to proceed?”

“No, ‘cause that gives me time to think of how to use the life debt,” Margo said, shaking her head.

“Indeed.” Mr. Black nodded. One last thought crossed her mind, something really important.

“Mr. Black, did you tell Kreacher ‘bout wanting to adopt me?”

“Kreacher knew what Master Regulus wanted before Master Regulus knew himself.” Kreacher’s familiar croak sounded from the entrance to the hall, and Margo turned to find the elf watching them. There was the smallest of smiles on his face as the elf brought a tray of tea stuff over to them.

As Mr. Black took a teacup from the tray, he raised an eyebrow at the elf. “And you didn’t think to share your knowledge with me, old friend?”

Kreacher snorted. “Master Regulus wasn’t ready to accept what he wanted yet, and Kreacher knows better than to force change on stubborn wizards.”

Margo giggled as she accepted a cup of tea, while Mr. Black shook his head.

“I’ve no doubt you were correct.” Meeting the elf’s eyes, Mr. Black’s voice softened. “What do you think of Margo becoming my daughter?”

“Kreacher thinks Miss Margaret and Master Regulus are good for each other, and should have become a proper family last summer.” The elf turned to Margo, and nodded his head to her. She nodded back, smiling at him.

“Should I call you Uncle Kreacher now?”

“Miss Margaret hasn’t been adopted yet,” Kreacher said, narrowing his eyes. She couldn’t help grinning back.

“That wasn’t a no, Uncle Kreacher!”

“Master Regulus should control his soon-to-be-daughter,” Kreacher grumbled, turning to look at Mr. Black. The man was watching them fondly, and his lips twisted into a smirk.

“You are my oldest friend, Kreacher, and I would be honored to have you be my daughter’s uncle.”

Kreacher shook his head and grumbled some more, but Margo could tell he wasn’t really upset. No, he loved Mr. Black, and was part of his family. And soon as school was over for Archie, Margo really would be part of their family too.

[RbRbRb]

Regulus stared at the ruination to the Black name occurring below. Achie— Rigel was not his nephew. An impostor had stolen his nephew’s place. A halfblood impostor.

While that meant the being from the cauldron, Voldemort, was unable to steal a child’s magic during an international event, it did not answer the most important questions.

Who was this impostor?

Where was Archie?

Those questions cycled repeatedly through his mind as Voldemort — who looked frighteningly like a young Riddle — wrapped his hands around the impostor’s neck.

Somehow, Rigel fought off what appeared to be a Legilimency attack. Not only fight it off, but cause the Voldemort pain severe enough to make him seize.

“Kill him. Kill. Him.”

Before the Jordan boy could act on the order with whatever device he held, Rigel slammed his head into his attacker’s. The sound of the impact reverberated through the stadium like thunder, and Regulus saw Margo wince.

Lifting his arm, Regulus drew the girl to his side. That might not be his nephew fighting for his life, but Margo had watched whoever this impostor was compete in six tasks.

An explosion drew his attention back to the platform. It was nearly impossible to see anything through the cacophony of light and sound, so he turned his attention to the mirror still broadcasting the view from Rigel’s headband.

A green light rapidly filled the mirror, and someone screamed. The Killing Curse, Regulus thought, cold dread washing over him.

Margo was trembling, but something was wrong.

The scene in the mirror hadn’t changed.

Rigel... was still standing?

He should have fallen the moment the curse struck.

The scene in the mirror shifted slightly, as though whoever was wearing the transmitter headband had taken a breath.

Two breaths.

The lights and noise — fireworks — faded in one last crackle, and the proof the impossible was revealed.

Rigel was still standing. He was alive, despite being struck by the Killing Curse.

And that boy, that impossible impostor, finally free, attacked.

A wave of powerful magic threw his attackers away from Rigel, and the boy wasted no time in racing to a corner of the platform. Regulus twisted his magical sight to watch as the boy tore at the anchoring runes of the ward entrapping him. Regulus could see how the anchors flowed down to bind themselves to the wards of Hogwarts itself.

He saw how the boy struggled with the anchors, and yet, impossibly.

The. Anchors. Broke.

The wards shattered in a magical kaleidoscope that blinded him, and Regulus hissed with pain as he dropped his magical sight.

Rubbing his teary eyes, Regulus blinked to try and clear the colors from his vision.

By the time he could see again, the last glimpse he had of the impostor was Rigel vanishing just before Sirius could touch him.

His brother froze, hand still outstretched.

Regulus felt an odd ache as he stared at his brother. Rigel was an impostor, a halfblood who’d pretended to be the scion of the pureblood House Black. He was a fake, a committer of Blood Identity Theft.

And yet.

His brother had thought that was his son. Regulus himself had believed the boy’s act— had been proud of all his nephew had accomplished for their family.

But that wasn’t Archie, and Regulus didn’t know where his nephew was. Was he safe? Or even alive?

That thought sent a chill through Regulus. If his nephew was dead, he would make the impostor pay.

Regulus stood, Margo following his motion, and he realized his hold on her had tightened at some point. Releasing the girl, he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“Is Archie okay?” Margo asked, her eyes wide and teary. Regulus couldn’t comfort her, however.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t Archie, and I’ve no idea where he could be, or if he is safe.”

Margo bit her lip, hands clenched around the fabric of her skirt as she looked down at the platform. “What ‘bout your brother?”

“Sirius...” Regulus looked down at his brother, who had fallen to his knees as the Aurors skittered about the victor’s platform like mindless ants. “He needs our support.”

Margo nodded, the worry in her gaze remaining as they left their seats for the stairwell.

And support his brother they did. Regulus stood with him as Sirius was forced to call on his lordship to avoid being dragged to the Ministry for questioning.

However, that didn’t stop the Aurors from taking him in for questioning.

But Regulus didn’t know anything about the impostor, or when he could have taken Archie’s place. He told the Aurors such with each question they asked.

Multiple times.

“And what about your ward?” Auror Shacklebolt asked from his seat across the table. Regulus frowned, narrowing his eyes at the other man.

“Margaret is an eight-year-old child. She had no direct interactions with the impostor at any of the tasks.”

“But she does know your nephew.”

“Not well enough to recognize if someone is impersonating him,” Regulus forced his tone to remain neutral. “I’ve taught her not to involve herself in Blood Identity Theft. Do you truly think it necessary to interview a child who only interacts with Arcturus Black during the summer and winter holidays? His schoolmates should know more than she possibly could about the impostor.”

Auror Shacklebolt considered the matter for far longer than Regulus liked, but eventually shook his head. “Given her age, and her lack of contact with the Rigel Black Child, it shouldn’t be necessary to question her at this time. Thank you for your cooperation, Master Black.”

Regulus nodded stiffly, impatient to be released. He’d left Margo with his brother at Hogwarts, but he doubted they were still there. And with the state Sirius had been in, Regulus was willing to bet they were at Potter Place.

He wanted to be with his family until their missing member was found.

When he reached the Atrium, however, Regulus paused as he saw Kreacher waiting near the outgoing floos. Moving quickly to his elf, he noted his friend’s discomfort. “What is it?” Regulus asked quickly. Had Archie been found?

“Master Regulus has received a summons from Lord Riddle,” Kreacher croaked, unnaturally still. Irritation flared within him, but Regulus couldn’t ignore the powerful man. Not now, while his family had been made to look like fools. The future of the Black line was in jeopardy, and he couldn’t risk invoking Riddle’s ire until he knew whether his nephew was safe.

“When did he wish to meet?”

“Immediately.” Kreacher wrung his hands together, and Regulus forced himself not to grit his teeth. As though one interrogation weren’t enough.

“Thank you for informing me,” he said, voice carefully neutral. “Margo is with my brother. Watch over them for me.”

Kreacher nodded, then vanished with a soft pop.

Moving to an available outgoing floo, Regulus tossed in some floo powder and called, “Riddle Manor.”

[MsMsMs]

Curled up on the couch, Margo guiltily watched Lord Sirius pace the floor. Nothing Mrs. Potter or Mr. Lupin tried had worked to get the man to sit down. He was worried, and scared, and angry at being kept out of the investigation.

Because Archie was missing, and nobody knew where he was.

Only, Margo thought that she did.

When she’d heard that the Archie in the last task wasn’t Archie, but a halfblood, Margo realized her friends hadn’t just switched places for the dueling task. No, Harry must have taken Archie’s place lots earlier.

So it wasn’t just ‘bout helping him win the tournament.

And if Harry had really been pretending to be Archie for a long time, then Archie had to be acting as Harry at her school in America. Margo wasn’t sure how he was pretending to be a girl, but where else could he be?

Only, Margo couldn’t tell Lord Sirius where his son was, ‘cause then she’d get Harry sent to Azkaban.

Biting her lip, Margo wished Mr. Black was here. He’d be able to help his brother.

But he’d been taken to the Ministry for questioning, even though Lord Sirius insisted Mr. Black didn’t know anything! Was he going to be arrested? Margo didn’t think he knew Harry was the Archie in the tournament, but what if he did? She’d told him all ‘bout Harry’s duels in the freedueling tournament, after all, and Mr. Black was smart. He could put the pieces together just like she did.

What if he sent Harry to Azkaban?

Hugging herself, Margo hoped Harry had hidden someplace really good, where nobody would ever be able to arrest her.

A ding-dong sounded, and Lord Sirius paused his pacing. “That’s not the floo.”

“No, it’s the doorbell,” Mrs. Potter said, exchanging a look with Mr. Lupin, who stood.

“I’ll see who it is,” Mr. Lupin said, and Margo noticed that him draw his wand as he left the room.

Nobody spoke as they all watched the doorway. After a few minutes, Mr. Lupin returned, an odd look on his face. But then Margo saw who was behind him, and she uncurled to jump off the couch. “Uncle Kreacher!”

“Uncle?!” Lord Sirius squawked, but Margo ignored him as she hurried over to the elf.

“Did Mr. Black send you? Why’d you come through the front door?”

“Kreacher does not like using the floo,” the elf croaked, eyeing the living room with dislike before turning to her. “Master Regulus has been delayed.”

“Did he get arrested?” Margo asked worriedly. Kreacher shook his head, and she relaxed.

“Master Regulus received a summons from Lord Riddle—”

“And he chose to hurry to Riddle’s side?” Lord Sirius interrupted sharply. Margo turned, her eyes widening at the fury on the man’s face. “Archie is missing, and he makes toadying up to Riddle his priority?”

“Master Regulus told Kreacher to watch over former master Sirius and Miss Margaret,” Kreacher said, a forced politeness in his tone that made Margo think he was trying to be nice to Lord Sirius. Lord Sirius barked a laugh, but it wasn’t nice at all.

“Can you find my son?”

“Kreacher is no longer bonded to former master Sirius or young Mr. Arcturus,” Kreacher said slowly, regret in his voice. Lord Sirius shook his head, voice bitter as he said,

“Then what good are you?”

Lord Sirius turned away, and Margo saw Kreacher’s hands clench. The elf didn’t respond with one of the mean comments he’d usually make to Lord Sirius, though. Instead, he turned his attention to her. “Does Miss Margaret require anything from Kreacher?”

Biting her lip, Margo shook her head. “I’m just worried ‘bout Archie.” Glancing at Lord Sirius, she hesitated before asking, “If Lord Sirius says it’s alright, d’you think you could wait round Grimmauld in case he shows up there?”

Kreacher glanced at Lord Sirius, who jerked his head in a rough nod. “Might as well make yourself useful somehow.”

Kreacher returned the nod. Turning back to Margo, the elf quietly spoke, “Miss Margaret will call for Kreacher if she requires anything.”

“I will, Uncle Kreacher,” she promised, and the elf left the room. As she walked back to the couch, she heard Lord Sirius muttering uncle under his breath as he returned to pacing. The guilt in her stomach churned as she sat down, and she wondered for a second if it’d be okay to say something ‘bout how they should tell Harry what’d happened.

No, ‘cause if I do that and they find Archie, they might get suspicious, she thought, biting her tongue so she couldn’t say nothing.

She had to be a good secret keeper, and keep Harry out of Azkaban.

[RbRbRb]

Regulus stared at Riddle, somehow managing to hide his horror as he digested the man’s words. He had marked the impostor somehow, and would be able to use that mark to find the boy.

Regulus had more important concerns, for Riddle was furious. At the impostor for shattering the precedent he’d meant to prove of pureblood superiority through revealing that the Blood Champion of the Triwizard Tournament was actually a halfblood, at the Voldemort for usurping the end of the task, and at the Blacks for allowing an impostor to remain hidden.

“You knew the boy! I permitted you to interact with him and your brother, to attempt to sway them to our side, and you expect me to believe that you didn’t know he was a fraud?” Riddle hissed, anger flashing in his icy eyes.

“My interactions with Rigel were limited. While I did note some differences in how he interacted with my brother compared to his friends, I thought little of it. He was a Slytherin, and such adaptation to social conditions is a skill we cultivate.” Regulus shook his head sharply. “If you wish to blame someone for not recognizing an impostor, then question Snape. He took the boy as his apprentice, and interacted with him far more than I did. What of the Ancestry Potion the fourth years are required to brew? It caught the Greengrass-Cresswell girl, so why didn’t it catch Rigel? Surely Severus remembered to test his apprentice.”

The lightning-scarred vase shattered as Riddle’s wordless spell struck it, and it took all of Regulus’ self-control to not draw his own wand. The man wouldn’t dare attack him, not even while in the midst of outrage.

“Severus shall answer for his failures,” Riddle said, a deadly edge to his voice. “That boy cannot be allowed to escape punishment, Regulus. He has made a mockery of our cause, of our laws, and of your family’s name. I refuse to believe that the Blacks knew nothing. A mere boy could not have fooled everyone who knew your nephew.”

Regulus felt his hands clench at that knew. “We don’t know where Arcturus is, but he will be found.”

“If he is, you will question him thoroughly.” Riddle scowled, his eyes narrowing. “I was already displeased with you, Regulus. You will find the impostor and bring him to me. Do not try my patience.”

Regulus took a shallow breath, forcing his head down in a deferential dip. “Understood.”

“Dismissed,” Riddle’s command was sharp, and as Regulus turned and strode down the silk rug, he swore it would be the last one he obeyed.

Riddle cared nothing for the Black Family. For their missing heir— outside of how it meant a resource in the hunt for Rigel was annoyingly out of his reach. Riddle didn’t even care whether Archie was alive.

No, Regulus could not continue to pledge his allegiance to someone who treated his ward (soon to be daughter) as a tool to be used despite how it would negatively impact her emotional wellbeing. A man who cared more for finding some nobody impostor than the Heir of a Noble and Ancient Family. Who blamed Regulus for not recognizing the deception when Riddle himself hadn’t either! Regulus knew Riddle had been interested in Rigel, so how dare he place the blame for the boy’s pretense on him?

No. He’d considered leaving the SOW Party and declaring himself Neutral, dependent on whether the marriage legislation proved successful, but now he would not wait until after the vote.

He could not support a man who showed such disregard for his nephew.

Entering the floo room, Regulus allowed himself a scowl. Even if he were still willing to follow Riddle’s orders, Regulus doubted he would be able to find Rigel, let alone bring the impostor to Riddle before the Ministry could claim him.

He didn’t care about finding that boy. He was infuriated that some nobody halfblood had pranced about using his nephew’s name, but that Rigel wasn’t his priority.

Archie was.

But to find his nephew, he needed to know: how long had this deception been occurring?

Was it Archie or Rigel who’d been kidnapped by Pettigrew?

Which boy slayed the Basilisk?

Who did Draco owe his life to?

If the answer was Rigel, then Regulus owed the impostor for inadvertently protecting his nephew from multiple traumatic events.

He would pay that debt now.

He, Regulus Black, would not search for Rigel Black, as recompense for how his actions had spared the Black Family Heir from harm.

... At least, he would not search for the impostor if Archie was safely found.

Because if Rigel had harmed Archie, then Riddle’s wrath would be the least of that boy’s problems.

Stepping out of the floo at Potter Place, Regulus dipped his head to Mr. Lupin. “How is my brother?”

“Angry and anxious,” the werewolf said, turning to lead Regulus out of the floo room. They moved down the hall to the living room. Sirius paused in his pacing when they entered, relief evident on his face for a single second, before being replaced by anger.

“Regulus! Your elf said you went to Riddle.”

“Indeed.” Regulus withheld his scowl as he strode over to his brother. He would not think of Riddle now.

“How could you make the cow party your priority?” Sirius demanded, clenching his teeth. “Archie is missing. My son. Your nephew. You’re always talking about our family’s legacy, Reg, but do you even care?”

“Do I care?” Regulus’ hands shook as he grabbed his brother’s shoulders. “You dare ask that? Of course I care! Archie is family, brother, and nothing matters more to me.”

Sirius barked a humorless laugh. “Then why did you scurry to Riddle’s side the second he called?”

“Riddle is a powerful man,” Regulus began, ignoring his brother’s scoff. “He could easily use his influence to aid in the search for your son. Or, if one were to invoke his ire, hinder it. You know the man is already upset with me, Sirius. I could not risk him turning on Archie for my decisions.”

His brother paled, then growled a furious, “He wouldn’t dare.”

“He would.” Regulus scowled. “But Riddle is entirely focused on Rigel. He has a way to track the boy, and yet hasn’t deigned to use it. Archie’s disappearance is nothing but an inconvenience to the man, and I refuse to serve him a moment longer.”

He felt his brother’s shoulders stiffen beneath his hands, and met gray eyes so similar to his own.

“You’re doing it now?” Sirius asked, the sheer disbelief in his tone a welcome change from the previous anger. Regulus took a slow, steadying breath, and spoke.

“I will not be part of a Party whose leader places hunting a fugitive impostor over finding the missing child whose identity was stolen.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from the side, but didn’t look to see whether it had come from Lupin or Mrs. Potter. Instead, he gave his brother’s shoulders a squeeze and said, “Finding Archie is my priority, brother. How can I help?”

Sirius shook his head, lips pressed together in frustration. “All we can do now is wait. The Minister has most of the DMLE on a manhunt for the ‘Rigel Black Child’, and insisted James lead it. There are a few teams looking for Archie, but I’ve been told to leave them to their work.”

“Technically, you were asked to remain at home in case Archie finds his way there,” Lupin said. Regulus let go of his brother’s shoulders, and motioned towards where the others sat.

“You’ll do your son no good by exhausting yourself with pacing, brother. Come sit down, or I will be forced to cast a body-bind,” Regulus said, and his brother smiled grimly.

“Not a stunner?”

“You should be allowed the consciousness to contemplate your actions,” Regulus said drily, withholding his smirk as he slowly led his brother to the couch where Mrs. Potter sat. Once his brother was seated, Regulus turned his focus to the woman.

“Lady Potter, might my ward and I continue to impose on your hospitality? I would prefer to remain with my brother until Archie is found.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Potter nodded slowly, her green gaze contemplative. “But please, call me Lily. We don’t hold to titles in this house.”

Breathing in, Regulus dipped his head to her. “Very well, Lily.”

The woman gave a hesitant smile, which Regulus did not return. Instead, he sat beside Margo on the other couch.

“You okay?” Margo asked, her brows drawn together in worry. He nodded, aware of everyone’s focus on his answer.

“I knew nothing which could help the DMLE with their investigation.”

“I told Shacklebolt that,” Sirius growled, “interrogating you was a waste of time they could’ve spent looking for Archie.”

“Indeed,” Regulus agreed, before taking a slow, steadying breath. “As for my meeting with Riddle... the man is furious, and will only grow more so once I announce my departure from his Party.” He could already feel the heat from the bridges his actions would burn to ash, and could only hope enough remained to allow him to continue caring for Margo.

“Do you need protection?” Lupin asked, and Regulus scoffed.

“From who— Dumbledore? I’ve seen the value of his protection for party deserters.” Regulus would not make Pettigrew’s mistake in trusting the old man. If he hadn’t perished after kidnapping Archie — or was it Rigel — then Pettigrew would have eventually felt Riddle’s full wrath the moment he left Hogwarts. Regulus refused to sentence himself to the life of a school teacher.

Especially not at a school Margo could not attend.

“I doubt any of the Neutrals could offer you better help,” Sirius said.

“Running to Dumbledore, or even simply to his Party, would be an insult Riddle could not ignore. There is a chance, however slight, that he might choose to ignore my departure in favor of focusing on Rigel. I didn’t make a mockery of his tournament.”

Margo shifted beside him, and Regulus glanced at her. The little girl appeared anxious, and she didn’t meet his gaze as she asked.

“Will... will Rigel be okay?”

Frowning slightly, Regulus glanced at his brother before speaking. “So long as the boy’s identity remains hidden, and he doesn’t do anything else to draw attention to himself, Rigel might be able to escape punishment. He’s in a poor position, and has made many powerful enemies.”

“If he is smart, Rigel will stay away from Britain,” Lupin said, and Mrs. Pot— Lily nodded in agreement.

“He was extremely lucky to survive long enough to escape,” she said, and Regulus frowned as he remembered the impossibility he’d witnessed that night.

“How did he survive the Killing Curse?”

Lupin smiled and nodded to Lily. “Because of Lily’s invention: the Dark Defense Disk.”

“Your invention?” Regulus turned to look at the muggleborn witch, who smiled proudly.

“Yes, mine.”

“She had me give it to Arch— to Rigel before the first task,” Sirius said, voice wavering briefly when he corrected himself on the name. It appeared he wasn’t the only one who’d decided Rigel must have been impersonating Archie for longer than merely tonight’s task.

“You invented a device that can stop the Killing Curse, and you gave it to a schoolboy?” Regulus didn’t know whether to laugh at the idiocy of it or be grateful for the care the woman had shown for his presumed nephew’s safety.

“I gave it to my nephew,” Lily said, a challenge in the tilt of her chin which dared him to claim Archie wasn’t her nephew.

As much as it pained him to admit it, the Potters were family to his brother and nephew. Keeping his dislike of that fact out of his voice, he said, “So you did. Would you be willing to discuss your invention with me?”

Surprise flickered in those green eyes for a single moment. Then the woman nodded, and began telling him of her remarkable invention.

And so they engaged in a discussion of the Dark Defense Disk, then switched to magical theory and warding. It was startlingly enjoyable, and they were eventually able to draw Sirius into the conversation as well once the subject shifted to the Marauder’s business. It kept his brother from dwelling on the fact that his son was missing, and so Regulus feigned an interest in their latest prank products.

The investigation might be outside of their hands, but no one wanted to risk missing an update.

As the night stretched on into the late hours, Regulus noticed that Margo’s anxiety remained. Despite it, however, she eventually fell asleep on his arm.

No one else slept.

“Regulus Black?” James Potter stared at him in shock. The man appeared exhausted, yet somehow remained upright as he looked from Sirius, to Lily, then back to Regulus. Finally, he turned to Sirius. “Why is your brother here?”

“To support his family,” Sirius said, a faint smile appearing on his strained face.

“In addition, my ward refused to leave once introduced to your youngest,” Regulus said wryly. They’d left the eight year old and toddler in the living room when they heard the floo chime.

Lily embraced her husband, who relaxed slightly at her touch.

“Any news?” Sirius asked, and James shook his head.

“He’s in the wind.”

“What now?” Sirius asked, all his agitation and anxiety from the night before returning now. Regulus understood his brother’s position. His son was missing, and this man was a possible source of answers.

James Potter was also the man responsible for bringing Archie in for questioning once he was found. Regulus knew his nephew would need to answer for whatever part he played in Rigel taking on his identity. Loath as he was to admit it, Regulus hoped his nephew was complicit in Blood Identity Theft— for that was the most likely situation wherein he would be found unharmed.

“Harry,” James said as he pulled out a portkey, and something clicked in Regulus’ mind.

Miss Potter was exceptionally close to his nephew, and shared a similar appearance with him. She had knowledge in dueling a sword-wielding opponent, and was skilled enough with potions to gain an internship at the Potions Guild.

Rigel had to look like Archie in order to take his place. He had dueling abilities Regulus hadn’t expected from his nephew, but had dismissed as coming from his association with Miss Potter. Rigel’s potions knowledge was enough to impress Severus into taking him on as his apprentice.

Sirius once confessed that Archie had wanted to go to AIM with Miss Potter. What if he convinced her to switch places? he thought, forcing his face to remain neutral despite his growing horror.

From what Margo had shared about Miss Potter’s freedueling matches, Regulus could easily imagine her winning the third task. But he couldn’t figure out why she would have agreed to compete in the tournament in the first place. Then again, it didn’t make sense for an unknown hidden halfblood to agree to compete either.

As his brother vanished with James into the distortion of an international portkey, Regulus realized he’d missed the latter half of their conversation. Lily was looking at him strangely, and Regulus swallowed before straightening.

“I should convince Margo to return home,” he said carefully, “We have encroached on your hospitality long enough.” If the woman hadn’t realized the possibility that her daughter might be Rigel, he wasn’t about to suggest it. It if was true, then the children had engaged in truly imbecilic behavior for years.

He needed a moment alone to think through why this couldn’t be the truth.

“You’re welcome to stay until James and Sirius return,” Lily said slowly, and Regulus hesitated. If he was wrong, Miss Potter might still have valuable information regarding Archie and Rigel.

“We will return. I... would like a brief respite, and both Margo and I should change out of yesterday’s clothes.”

“I can give you the current password for the floo,” Lily said, and Regulus nodded slowly. They returned to the living room, and Margo looked up from where she was playing with young Adriana.

“Margaret, we are returning home,” he said, and the girl got to her feet without arguement.

“Alright. Bye Addy!” Margo smiled at the toddler, waving cheerfully at her. The toddler giggled and waved back. “Bye Mrs. Potter!”

Returning to the floo room, Regulus listened to the floo password, then tossed some powder into the flames and called, “Wisteria Cottage.”

Once in the safety of his own floo room, Regulus took a deep breath and allowed his thoughts to return to his suspicions. If Miss Potter was Rigel, then he knew where she likely had fled to after escaping from Hogwarts. While he didn’t wish to endanger Margo should his suspicions prove correct, she knew the Lower Alleys better than he did. Turning to look at his ward, Regulus carefully spoke.

“Margaret, did Archie or Miss Potter ever ask you what living in the alleys was like?”

“No.” Margo shook her head, not looking up as she slowly removed her shoes.

“Do you recall when Miss Potter began working for Krait?”

“Not exactly, but it was sometime before you caught me,” she said, shrugging slightly. Regulus frowned. It wasn’t like Margo to forget details. Perhaps he needed to risk being more direct.

“Do you recall Miss Potter ever asking Hurst about the Court’s safehouses?” Regulus knew the locations of some: both from when Deerborn was the Rogue and newer ones Hurst had commissioned him to ward.

Margo shook her head again as she stood, her shoes in her hands. “Harry never asked Leo ‘bout stuff like that.”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. Just because Margo hadn’t heard the conversation didn’t mean it hadn’t occurred. Hurst was fond of Miss Potter, and it wouldn’t surprise him if he was helping her. Two eleven year olds couldn’t have figured out how to fool so many people on their own.

Reminding himself that Archie hadn’t been found yet, Regulus considered his options.

Option one: Rigel was some nobody halfblood. If this were the case, then Archie might not be complicit in Rigel taking his identity. In this scenario, his nephew could have been replaced at any point, and could in all likelihood be dead.

Regulus loathed that thought. Sirius would be devastated if Archie had been killed and replaced by an impostor, regardless of when the switch occurred.

Option two: Rigel was Heiress Harriet Potter. In this scenario, the two likely switched so Archie could specialize in Healing. His nephew had expressed interest in the profession before. Meanwhile, Miss Potter... became the Slytherin parselmouth Potions apprentice and poster child of the power found in pureblood lines?

“The Potters are descended from the Peverells...” Regulus muttered as sat on the bench.

“Who’re the Peverells?” Margo asked as she slowly straightened from putting her shoes away.

“They were an ancient family mostly known now for their part in a children’s tale, but a less common fact about them is that they were Parselmouths. Salazar Slytherin is one of their most famous descendants,” Regulus answered. Margo frowned.

“The Potters aren’t Parselmouths.”

“That we know of,” Regulus said. He could easily see James rejecting the dark gift purely because it was connected to Slytherin. But Miss Potter? She would use it.

Regulus froze as he remembered something. He turned to look at Margo. “Margaret. Rigel’s boomslang was at Grimmauld Place over the winter hols, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Treeslider was nice.” Margo nodded, a small smile forming on her face. “Sirius let me feed him a mouse while Archie was sick.”

“Rigel was obviously fond of that snake, given how he strove to heal it during the first task. Even if it fit with their deception, would the snake have willingly gone the whole break without contact with a Parselmouth?” Regulus mused, rubbing his chin. “Has Miss Potter ever interacted with Sirius’ snakes?”

“I have, and I can’t talk to them,” Margo said, her smile fading. “Mr. Black... are you trying to blame Harry for Archie being missing?”

“If that chit is the impostor, then it means Archie never was truly missing,” Regulus grumbled. While he would be happy that his nephew was never actually in danger, it wouldn’t change the fact that their entire family had been made to look like fools.

“Harry can’t be Rigel.” Margo shook her head firmly. “Rigel’s a boy.”

“And Miss Potter pretended to be a boy in the alleys until her duel with the goblin.” Regulus got to his feet, feeling more certain of what he’d figured out. “Take the potential for Parseltongue, a love for potions and the skill to impress a Potions Master, impressive dueling abilities, a habit for keeping secrets, an appearance identical to Archie, and a connection to him that would allow for the switch to occur in the first place. A nobody halfblood doesn’t have that personal connection, but Miss Potter does.”

Running a hand through his hair, Regulus let out a bitter laugh. “The Black Heir I was so proud of is actually James Potter’s daughter.”

“Don’t send my friend to Azkaban,” Margo’s soft voice made Regulus freeze. Not merely because he’d just reasoned out one halfblood’s participation in Blood Identity Theft in front of another, but because there was no surprise in Margo’s tone.

No further objection that Miss Potter was innocent.

Merely a plea for mercy.

“Margaret,” Regulus’ voice was equally soft as he knelt next to the girl and looked into her brown eyes, “did you know Miss Potter was pretending to be Archie?”

Margo swallowed, then nodded her head. “I thought they’d just switched for the dueling task.”

It felt as if his heart had turned to ice.

My ward is complicit in Blood Identity Theft, he thought numbly.

Rigel Black hadn’t merely made the Blacks look like fools.

No, he (she) had ruined an international tournament organized by both Riddle and the British Ministry of Magic.

Anyone not of pure blood who had known Rigel was halfblood would suffer the harshest punishment the Ministry could issue them.

Margo was a halfblood.

“Margaret. No one can ever know that you thought Miss Potter took Archie’s place during that task,” Regulus said, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Promise me this.”

Margo’s eyes widened, and for a moment he thought that he had scared her. Then Margo spoke.

“A vow is a promise.”

“Yes...?” Regulus nodded carefully. “Will you promise me this?”

Margo hesitated, swallowing as guilt filled her eyes. “Mr. Black, I know what I want to use the life debt for.”

“What?” The question felt hollow, even as a suspicion brewed in his gut as to what her answer would be.

Margo took a deep breath, and Regulus did nothing to stop her from speaking. “Mr. Black, I... I hereby claim the debt of life you owe me. You won’t tell on Archie and Harry for switching places, and you will help them keep Harry being Rigel secret until they decide that it’s okay for people to know she was Rigel Black. Um... through this, your debt is discharged. So mote it be.”

A light briefly blinded Regulus as the weight of his debt changed, Margo’s price searing itself into his mind and heart. Regulus stared at the girl, unable to get his tongue to form words. She blinked wet eyes, pulled herself free from his slack hold, and ran from the room.

He didn’t follow.

[MsMsMs]

Closing her door, Margo collapsed to the floor and leaned against it, feeling the tears she’d tried to hold back finally fall. She’d ruined everything. Mr. Black would never want to be her da now.

But he’d been asking ‘bout Harry! He figured out she’d switched with Archie. And even though he was asking her to promise not to tell anyone that she knew, he hadn’t said anything ‘bout not telling anyone himself.

She was a bad secret keeper. She’d failed Harry, had helped Mr. Black figure out the truth even though she’d been trying not to.

Then she’d remembered the life debt. Remembered, and used it best she could think to. Harry’s life was in danger, ‘cause folks who got sent to Azkaban didn’t last long against the Dementors. Getting Mr. Black to help keep Harry and Archie’s secret was worth using the life debt.

But now, now he’d be mad at her.

Sniffling, Margo pressed her eyes into her knees. Just when she was starting to get used to the idea of having a family again, she had ruined it.

A soft pop made her freeze. After a long, silent minute, she heard Kreacher’s familiar croak. “Kreacher felt a change in Master Regulus’ magic. Has Miss Margaret used the life debt?”

“Wh-why d’you think that’s what happened?” she asked, not daring to look at the elf.

“It felt similar to when Miss Margaret first accepted the life debt,” Kreacher said, and she heard his quiet footsteps as he drew closer to her. “Why is Miss Margaret crying?”

“‘Cause,” Margo mumbled.

“Should Kreacher get Master Regu—”

“No!” Margo lifted her head. “Ple-please don’t bother him. He’s probably mad at me.”

Frowning, Kreacher sat down beside her. “Kreacher doesn’t think Master Regulus would be mad at Miss Margaret, especially not if he knew she was upset. What happened?”

Margo shook her head. “It’s a secret.”

Kreacher’s frown grew. “Miss Margaret’s secrets are safe with Kreacher.”

Swallowing, Margo wiped her eyes. “Promise not to tell nobody?”

“Kreacher will not tell anyone Miss Margaret’s secrets unless keeping them will endanger her,” the elf said solemnly.

“I knew who Rigel was and didn’t tell nobody, and now Mr. Black knows too. Only, I was afraid he’d tell somebody, so I used the life debt so he can’t tell and has to help keep the secret.” Biting her lip, Margo met Kreacher’s gaze. “Now he probably hates me.”

“Master Regulus is capable of hatred, but Kreacher does not think he could ever hate you.” Kreacher reached out a hand and took one of hers. “Miss Margaret has brought Master Regulus much happiness since she came to live here. Whoever the Rigel impostor is, they have earned your loyalty, so Kreacher imagines that they couldn’t have hurt young Mr. Arcturus. If Miss Margaret would speak with Master Regulus, Kreacher thinks she will be pleasantly surprised.”

Squeezing the elf’s hand, Margo glanced away. “I dunno, Uncle Kreacher... what if Mr. Black doesn’t want to adopt me anymore?”

“Then Kreacher will hide all of Master Regulus’ books until he regains his senses,” Kreacher said gravely.

“All of them?”

“Every single book.”

Margo imagined the living room shelves completely empty, with a shocked Mr. Black staring at them, and couldn’t stop herself from giggling.

“Thanks, Uncle Kreacher.” Leaning over to the elf, she gave him a hug. He sputtered a bit, then awkwardly patted her back.

“Kreacher will always help his family, even if one of them once threw a wet cloak on him.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Kreacher knows, and he forgave Miss Margaret,” the warmth in the elf’s voice made Margo smile, and think that mayhaps she hadn’t ruined everything.

[RbRbRb]

After changing into clean clothes and adjusting to the new weight of the life debt’s magic around his heart, Regulus returned to Potter Place on his own. He didn’t wish to push Margo into further socializing when she’d fled from him.

As if he would punish her for attempting to protect her friend and his nephew.

Stepping out of the floo, Regulus brushed off his robes, despite the fact that there was no ash on them. It felt strange to know the floo password for this place, but he doubted it would remain the same for long. As he strode towards the doorway, Lupin appeared. His gaze flickered past Regulus, and the werewolf frowned.

“Where’s Margo?”

“She was feeling unwell. Kreacher is with her,” Regulus said. “I’m only here to see if there is any news regarding Archie’s whereabouts.”

Lupin motioned to the hall. “Come see for yourself.”

Following the other man, Regulus silently prepared himself to act surprised if his suspicions about Archie taking Miss Potter’s place at AIM (all but confirmed by Margo’s revelation regarding the third task) proved true.

Stepping into the living room behind Lupin, Regulus froze as he took in the two teens within it.

He has Diana’s chin, Regulus thought, staring at the gray-eyed boy who had to be his nephew. He hadn’t thought that Archie’s appearance would change. Somehow, in a few short hours, he’d convinced himself that Miss Potter had changed herself to look like Archie. But that was obviously incorrect.

If he searched for it, he could see hints of Rigel in his nephew, but they were too little to truly be accepted as such.

Stepping forward, Regulus set his hand on Archie’s shoulder and gently squeezed it. “Nephew, I am glad to see you’re safe.”

The boy smiled slightly, a hesitance in his eyes. “Uncle Regulus... aren’t you going to yell at me?”

“Perhaps tomorrow,” he said. “What matters is that you are here, safe, and,” Regulus let his gaze flicker over to his brother, who still appeared stressed, “have inherited the best traits of both your parents.”

The boy’s smile grew, eyes softening. “I thought you’d be upset.”

“I am,” Regulus said, “Some no-name halfblood was parading about using your name, if not your actual face, and our family’s been made to look like fools during an international competition. I am furious, but as I assume your father has already reprimanded you today, I shall wait until I have properly cataloged my grievances before I air them. Given your question, I assume Rigel had your permission to steal your name?”

“Since I gave permission, it’s not really stealing,” Archie said, and Regulus shook his head. Drawing his nephew into a brief hug, he whispered.

“Don’t ever terrify your father like that again, nephew.”

Releasing Archie before he could respond, Regulus turned his attention to the child he had vastly underestimated on multiple fronts. The first thing he noticed were her eyes— once again the striking green he recalled from that day in the Grimmauld Place floo room. Though she was shorter and her face held an undeniable softness that couldn’t be ignored, there was a wildfire in those green eyes, a promise that this witch could and would burn anything which came between her and her goals.

How had she hidden this all beneath Rigel’s polite demeanor? he wondered, before speaking to the girl. “Miss Potter. Did you help find my nephew?”

She shook her head. “Archie was never missing. He took my place at AIM while Rigel took his at Hogwarts.”

“Then where were you during the school year?” He asked. It was Sirius who answered.

“She got herself an apartment in the alleys past Knockturn.”

Regulus pursed his lips as he held back a laugh. So Hurst was involved. “You expect me to believe a truant figured out a completely new method of imbuing potions?”

The girl shrugged, an easy smile on her lips. “I had plenty of time for experimenting in between my correspondence courses.”

Shaking his head, Regulus felt a tug from the magic of the life debt, and spoke. “The Storeroom’s delivery boy. That was you, wasn’t it?”

The girl hid her surprise well as she placed a hand on her hip. “Apartments don’t pay for themselves, and I couldn’t exactly use my school account.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “I should have recognized your hair, if nothing else.”

“Sleekeazy’s works wonders if you use enough of it,” she responded, lifting her other hand to brush a curl out of her face. “Besides, I knew better than to let you get a close look at me.”

“Regulus, you saw Harry in the alleys?” Lupin asked, and Regulus recalled that the werewolf had attended part of the freedueling tournament with Miss Potter. He, out of all the adults present, knew the most about Miss Potter’s association with the Lower Alleys outside of Regulus himself.

But so far as Regulus knew, Lupin didn’t know the full truth of the girl’s connection to the Court of the Rogue.

“If I had realized it was her, I would have dragged her to my brother by her ear,” Regulus said, allowing himself a scowl at the girl. “I dislike being made to look like a fool, Miss Potter.”

“If you want a real fool, talk to Mr. Malfoy,” Miss Potter said, her eyes glinting with mischief. “He mistook me for Archie, then dismissed me as just some alley kid after I was rude to him.”

“Harry,” Lily’s voice was tired, “I think you’ve learned some poor habits from whoever interacted with in those alleys.”

“Sometimes you have to be a little rude to nobles to get them to leave you alone,” Miss Potter said, not at all repentant. She paused, then dipped her head to Regulus. “Though I am sorry I tricked you, Master Black.”

“You can apologize by helping Margo weed her garden,” he said, turning to look at Lily. “If such a chore will align with whatever punishment you have chosen for your daughter.”

“I’ll have to discuss it with James,” Lily said, and Regulus nodded, then turned to Sirius.

“If you wish, Archie could assist Margo as well. She has multiple garden plots in need of pre-summer maintenance.”

His brother smiled slightly. “You just don’t want to get your hands dirty, don’t you?”

“Neither Potter Place nor Grimmauld Place has adequate yards to provide mindless physical chores for two teenagers. I, however, have one overly ambitious eight-year-old girl who is determined that my backyard always rival Sissinghurst’s gardens.”

Which was only a mild exaggeration. He was certain great aunt Lycoris would be pleased by Margo’s dedication to the cottage gardens.

“I’ll think about it,” Sirius said, and Regulus dipped his head. If he could get both teenagers away from the other adults, then he could properly reprimand them for their idiotic scheme. Then figure out how best to help them keep what remained secret from being discovered.

Besides, Margo truly could use better help with some of her more delicate plants, and Miss Potter was likely better at Herbology than he was.

[MsMsMs]

Margo was hiding in her garden, which wasn’t the sad overgrown-with-weeds thing it’d been when she first came to live with Mr. Black.

No, now she had rows and rows of flowers, filling more than the two plots she’d started off with. Some of her plants were perennials, while others were annuals only active during a particular season. She had a section for each season, and always had work she could be doing.

But right now, she wasn’t working. She was hiding.

Her azalea bushes weren’t very big, but they were big enough. Mr. Black had gone back to Potter Place yesterday, but Margo didn’t know if Archie had been found at Harry’s school. She’d fallen asleep before he got home.

It was getting close to breakfast time, but Margo didn’t want to know how mad Mr. Black was at her. Despite what Kreacher had said, she was afraid he might be wrong. She hadn’t asked Mr. Black if what she was going to use the life debt for was okay, so now he was stuck keeping a secret he probably didn’t like, and worse, helping make sure it stayed secret.

She should’ve listened to her azaleas and shown self-restraint and thought ‘bout how Mr. Black would feel before she used the life debt.

But she’d done it, and now she couldn’t take it back.

Not that she wanted to. Not if it meant Harry went to Azkaban.

She heard footsteps on the garden’s path, and held very still. Through the foliage, she saw a familiar pair of boots pause by her bush. After a minute where neither of them moved, she heard a long, low sigh. “I know you’re there, Margo.”

She didn’t say anything, hoping Mr. Black was just trying to flush her out. The boots moved, but not away. No, there were Mr. Black’s knees, and an elbow. Mr. Black’s gray eyes met hers, and the man softly asked, “Will you come out?”

“Depends: how mad are you?” she asked, matching his softness.

“I’m not angry at you, Margaret,” he said. Margo had learned lots of things ‘bout Mr. Black over the past few years, and one was that he didn’t lie to her very often. So if he said he wasn’t mad at her... mayhaps Kreacher was right.

Slowly, she crawled out from under the azalea bush. Mr. Black smiled, though it seemed kinda sad. He reached out, pulling something out of her hair. As he drew his hand back she saw it was a yellow petal.

“Do you want to tell me why you thought I was angry with you?” Mr. Black asked, shifting to a sitting position.

“‘Cause I did Blood Identity Theft and kept it secret from you, then used the life debt so you couldn’t snitch on Harry,” Margo answered, folding her legs and smoothing her skirt so she was more comfy too. Mr. Black nodded his head.

“I am upset about both of those things. The first, because I care about you and don’t want to see you suffer should anyone find out. Normally, someone your age could be given some leniency, but I’m afraid of what punishment you might receive given the current political climate.” He looked at her, face grim. “You do realize the danger you put yourself in, don’t you?”

Margo nodded, looking down at her hands. “I just didn’t want Harry to get hurt for helping Archie.”

“Which is commendable, but both Miss Potter and Archie are older than you. They understood the danger they were putting themselves in.” Mr. Black paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was grave. “Or at least, I hope they understood the risk when they began this ruse. The fact of the matter is that they are old enough to be held accountable for their own decisions, and so it does not fall to you to protect them from any consequences they might face.”

“But they’re my friends,” Margo said, looking back at Mr. Black. He sighed and shook his head.

“They would not ask you to risk yourself in this matter, Margo. What would you have done if the DMLE had decided to question you about Rigel?”

“Lie,” Margo answered, then rubbed her fingers together. “Or asked some lightning to zap them.”

“Do not assault any Aurors, Margaret.” Mr. Black rubbed his forehead. “Let’s move on to the second topic: the life debt.”

Margo shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry I didn’t ask first.”

“You weren’t required to check the acceptability of your choice before claiming what was owed, Margo. And in a case like this, where you were afraid for the well-being of another, asking for permission first could have given me time to prevent you from calling upon the debt.” Mr. Black shook his head. “No, you were wise not to wait. What you were unaware of, however, was my decision the previous night. I had decided that if we found Archie safe and unharmed, then I was going to fulfill a debt I felt the Black Family owed by not looking for the impostor.”

“Oh.” Margo rubbed her arm. “So I wasted the life debt?”

“No. Because you didn’t just ask me to keep the fact that they switched places a secret. You also asked that I help them to keep what still remains secret such until they choose to reveal it.” Mr. Black’s smile was grim. “So now I have to tell our two pretenders I know their secret and that I want to help them keep it. It’s a good thing I was already planning to leave the SOW Party, because this is not a secret I would want to keep in Riddle’s presence.”

“Sorry.” Margo hunched her shoulders, feeling guilty ‘bout getting Mr. Black stuck in this. “You don’t have to adopt me if you don’t want to anymore.”

Mr. Black blinked, then stared at her. “Whatever would give you the idea that this would make me not want to adopt you?”

“‘Cause of how I used the life debt, and ‘cause I committed Blood Identity Theft.” Margo frowned. “You were mad last night.”

“Yes— at Archie and Miss Potter. They came up with this ridiculous for what? So Archie could gain a Healing license in Miss Potter’s name?” Mr. Black scowled. “I thought they were intelligent children. And then I realized that you’d gotten dragged into this, and the thought that I might lose you was unbearable.”

“Oh.” Margo swallowed, then asked. “So... you still want me to be your daughter?”

“Of course I do! Nothing that has happened since that disastrous final task has changed my love for you. So long as you still want me to adopt you, I will.”

Margo sniffed, and pulled out one of the silly handkerchiefs Mr. Black had gotten her to wipe her nose. “I want you to be my da.”

“Then I will.” Mr. Black held out his arms in invitation, and Margo shifted from her spot to hug him.

As his arms wrapped around her, Margo mumbled into his robes. “I love you, Da.”

“And I love you too, daughter.”