The Cave - 2

Malfoy had made his presence much more apparent in the house since Pansy's arrival. The two could often be found in the kitchen sharing a snack, in the drawing room curled up by the fire, or sneaking out of any number of empty rooms. Harry didn't even want to imagine what they were doing. The fact that it was his house made him shudder. It also irritated him that Malfoy was able to shove the war and all his problems away while Harry found it exceedingly difficult to do that.

It's my house…it should be Ginny and me exploring all those rooms, he thought irritably.

Since her arrival, Pansy's greatest pleasure appeared to be finding the right words to set either Hermione or Ginny off, which wasn't difficult. Ginny, particularly, had a very short fuse when it came to the Slytherin. In fact, Pansy and Iris had apparently mended their rift and united under the common goal of needling the Gryffindor girls.

On more than one occasion, Harry had found himself sitting open-mouthed – Ron and Malfoy by his sides wearing identical gobsmacked expressions – as the girls sniped at each other. Harry was both fascinated and amazed by the low blows girls could zing at each other. Blokes usually came to blows much more quickly, but Harry also thought they got over things quicker, as well.

One afternoon about a week after he'd visited Azkaban, he was sitting in the library again trying to find some kind of a translation for his Romanian book when Remus joined him. Tonks had stopped glaring at him each time she saw him, but she hadn't gone back to her usual joking manner, either.

"All right, Harry?" Remus asked, entering the library and taking the chair next to Harry.

"Yeah," Harry said, stretching. "Just doing a little reading."

"Your color is better," Remus said, studying Harry's face. He nodded towards Harry's book. "What's that you're reading?"

"I found it up in that large bedroom beneath the attic. I can't read it though, it's not in English," Harry said, not meeting Remus's eyes.

"Ahh," Remus said, his eyes clouding over. "That was Regulus's room. The language is Romanian."

Harry looked up sharply. "Yeah, Sirius told me he became a Death Eater. Do you read Romanian?"

"No," Remus replied, shaking his head. "Sirius's Uncle Alphard lived in Romania. Both he and Regulus were very fond of him. That book looks like it contains a lot of Dark Magic; no wonder Regulus had it. You're not considering using anything in there, are you, Harry?" Remus asked, his brow furrowing.

"No, not using it," Harry replied, averting his eyes.

"Exactly what does that mean?" Remus asked, slipping into that stern, teacher's voice that Harry remembered from third year.

Harry's mind raced. His relationship with Remus had been strained since he'd started his Occlumency sessions, and he didn't like it. Remus was his last link to his parents, and he didn't want to lose that. He knew he could trust Remus, and he did need some help. He was growing weary of walking this fine line of wondering whom to trust.

"Sirius said there was a rumor that Voldemort killed Regulus himself, but Sirius didn't believe it," Harry said, watching Remus closely.

Remus shrugged, still appearing perplexed. "It seems unlikely."

"I'm not so sure," Harry whispered, deciding to follow his instincts.

"Pardon?" Remus asked.

Harry shifted his position so he was facing Remus. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Regulus did something…something huge…and I think Voldemort might have found out about it, or at least found out that he was planning it. I don't think he knows even now how far Regulus got with his plan. It would be just like Voldemort to underestimate him. I think Sirius said he was really young when he died."