"I was in a magically preserved coma as far as I can tell, in a state between life and death." Regulus's voice skittered and whispered like claws down a stone corridor in her youthful home. "Because the Dark Lord's magic was the one doing the preserving, I survived better than I would have otherwise. And then I felt the call of the family ritual to give strength to your son, so I did." He shrugged.
Lucius moved so suddenly that Narcissa staggered. He had his wand pressed to Regulus's throat and a remote expression she had seen often, immediately before he killed.
"Swear that you are no threat to my son."
"Why—would I be?" Regulus was choking from the press of Lucius's wand against his throat. Kreacher had started to shriek in outrage, but now he was frozen, probably because he realized Lucius could kill Regulus before he could do anything.
"Lucius!"
"No, Narcissa." His voice was stripped-down, as cold and flat and hard as a blade. He had gone deep into the state that he reached when he was going to protect her or the boys, and as far as Narcissa knew, an oath or the demise of the threat were the only ways to bring him out of that. "He spoke of being preserved by the Dark Lord's magic. He bore the Mark when he vanished. I will make certain."
The words pounded the air around them hard enough to make it spark. Regulus looked at them with flat eyes, and then nodded a little.
"You bore the Mark yourself at one time, Lucius."
"I cut off and regrew my arm for the sake of my son. What will you do?"
Regulus gaped at Lucius for a long second. Then he said, "It's not enough that I gave him strength?"
"You could have done that without realizing who it was you were helping, with the state you were in. And without knowing that my son went by the name Harry Potter for twelve years of his life."
Regulus drew himself up. It was an impressive gesture, Narcissa thought, given how broken he was, how young he was. And he lifted a hand to hold Kreacher back.
"I was preserved in a lake full of Inferi that the Dark Lord created to guard an artifact that was incredibly important to him. I commanded Kreacher to take the artifact and destroy it. I will go through the same amputation and regrowth process that you did, Lucius, swear any oath you like. I loathe that monster and will never serve him again."
Lucius waited a long moment, when Narcissa thought that he might kill Regulus anyway. Then he smiled.
"Good," he said. "As it is, we know what kind of artifact you're talking about, and we've now destroyed four of them. The ritual we needed your help with was to help our son kill yet another of them."
Regulus was the one who looked unbalanced now. "You—can't know what it was."
"Horcrux."
Regulus shook for a long moment. Narcissa wasn't sure who wanted to intervene more, she or Kreacher.
And then Regulus straightened up with a harsh laugh, and said, "Maybe I should have come to you with this from the beginning. Yes, Lucius, I'll swear whatever oath you like. May we be allies in this, and in defeating the Dark Lord who for some reason is obsessed with my cousin."
Lucius's jagged smile was visible as he lowered his wand and held out his hand to Regulus. They sank to the ground together, and Narcissa walked over to be their Bonder.
She held back the tears that burned the edges of her eyelids. Now was not the time for them.
But to have family returned to her beyond all hope or possibility of hope was a gift from Fate, and one that she thought they well deserved, to counterbalance the horror of her son having borne a Horcrux.
We shall do this. The Dark Lord stands no chance.
"Duck!"
Harry rolled on the floor as splinters of stone from the wall he'd tried to conjure to block Uncle Ted's spell flew overhead. He could hear Uncle Ted swearing, and winced. He had told his family about the difficulties he was having with his magic. He hoped Uncle Ted didn't think it was his fault.
The last pieces of stone disappeared in midair, and Harry's uncle peered at him. "Does that happen with every spell?"
"The minor Transfigurations and Charms I've tried are okay," Harry said, pushing himself to his feet. Draco stood a few feet away with a scowl on his face and hands on his hips, but Harry ignored him for the moment. "Anything second-year level or below. But above that…" He spread his hands helplessly.
"Hmm." Uncle Ted's eyes flickered to the scar on Harry's forehead, although just like everyone else, he wasn't going to talk about it in Hogwarts where the portraits could hear. "All right. What we're going to do is a power-draining exercise."
"What's that?" Draco asked immediately. "It sounds dangerous."
"Only if someone doesn't have enough power behind their spells. What your brother has right now is too much."
"He still might need that extra power to defend himself if—"
"Or he might just destroy himself and any allies he has if he doesn't get his magic under control."
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