"No, that's too long," Snape rejected flatly. "Once we leave here, you're to go and bring him immediately. I'll wait for you at the end of the alley for five minutes, Narcissa. No longer."
He wasn't about to give her any chance to delay, reconsider, or set a trap.
A flicker of hesitation and worry passed across Narcissa's face. Leaving right now to fetch Regulus from the Black home meant there would be no time to prepare. But when she met Snape's unyielding stare, she knew there was no room to negotiate.
"Fine." She gritted her teeth and nodded.
The deal made, the tension eased slightly.
"How's Sirius?" Snape asked casually, as if making small talk. "After he and his friends returned from The Founders' Ark, how has he been? Gone back to the Black home to resume his role as the family disgrace?"
At the mention of Sirius, Narcissa's expression immediately turned cold and full of disdain.
"Him?" she said icily. "He's no longer a Black. Ever since Sirius's name was burned off the family tapestry, where he hides or what filthy business he's involved in is of no concern to me."
"Oh?" Snape raised an eyebrow and went on, "And what about his companions, the ones who returned with him? Particularly that Muggle-born, Peter Pettigrew, the sniveling little Gryffindor. Have you heard anything about him?
"It's odd, isn't it? I didn't see his name on The Daily Prophet's list of those sent to Azkaban afterward."
Narcissa frowned slightly, clearly either unfamiliar with the name or utterly indifferent to it.
"I'm sorry, Severus," she said after a brief pause, shaking her head. "I've no idea where that man went. If he's not on Azkaban's list, then it can only mean he wasn't deemed important enough for a cell, or perhaps..." She shrugged lightly, "he simply got lucky."
"Is that so?" Snape murmured, half to himself. "How strange..."
Narcissa didn't respond. She couldn't have cared less about Wormtail's fate.
Neither spoke again.
Snape lifted the protective charm, and Narcissa beckoned to the waiter, paying the tab with Muggle money.
They rose in silence and left The Lamb and Flag pub, stepping into the narrow, damp alley beside it, the air thick with the smell of mildew.
At the mouth of the alley, Snape positioned his bulky frame cleverly in the shadow of a jutting wall. His wand was already in hand, concealed in the wide sleeve of his Muggle coat. His eyes scanned the busy street outside and the deep quiet of the alley beyond, every nerve alert.
Narcissa hurried toward the far end of the alley and quickly vanished from sight.
Minutes ticked by; Snape stayed tense, ready for anything.
Less than three minutes later, a faint crack echoed through the alley.
Narcissa had returned. Beside her stood a pale, thin, dark-haired boy.
Regulus Black kept his head low, his body trembling slightly, his gaze darting nervously like a child shaken from a nightmare. When he noticed the stranger standing in the shadows at the mouth of the alley, he visibly flinched and instinctively moved to hide behind his sister.
And Regulus's hand was tightly gripped, not by him, but by a house-elf clinging to his arm.
It was an extremely old house-elf, its skin hanging loose as if too much of it had been draped over a frail frame. It wore almost nothing save a spotless white towel around its waist, its ears tufted with wispy white hair.
Kreacher's large eyes, peering over his crooked nose, looked anxiously at the stranger.
Snape's gaze shifted from the jumpy Regulus to the aged elf clutching the boy's arm.
"What's with the extra one?" he asked, raising his head toward Narcissa.
"Uncle and Aunt are worried Regulus won't adjust to being away from home without someone to look after him." Narcissa cast a quick glance at the small elf trying to shield Regulus with his tiny body.
"Kreacher's known him since he was a baby. He understands him best. Let him come along. Besides," she added quickly, "you may use him however you like.
"Kreacher is very capable, he'll never be a burden. His French onion soup is exquisite, the best I've ever tasted, and his Wiltshire-style stews are unmatched. He bakes syrup fruit tarts and steak-and-kidney pies that would earn praise even from the most fastidious wizard."
"We've got plenty of house-elves on the ship to handle meals and chores," Snape replied coolly, unmoved, wanting to see what more the Blacks might offer.
He gave Kreacher a glance. The old elf, catching his look, lowered his head submissively.
Narcissa hesitated. After a pause, she tried another offer:
"Severus... do you need Galleons? The Black family could provide financial support-"
"Galleons? Spare me," Snape interrupted with a derisive snort. "We don't need that kind of useless trinket. If you want to be of real help, keep your promise, and personally take me to visit the Malfoy vault in Gringotts when the time comes."
He deliberately turned the earlier "vault visit" into a firmer condition.
Narcissa gave a slight nod of agreement, her eyes warning him not to speak further.
Satisfied, Snape extended a thick arm toward Regulus.
Narcissa gently pushed her still-frozen brother forward.
"Go on, Reg," she said softly. "Follow this gentleman. Be careful, and stay safe."
That push seemed to jolt Regulus awake.
He turned, looked deeply at his sister, nodded firmly, took a deep breath, and tightened his grip on Kreacher's hand before stepping toward Snape.
Kreacher immediately shuffled alongside him, trying to shield the boy with his small frame.
Snape watched them approach, expressionless. His thick hand bypassed the elf and clamped firmly on Regulus's thin shoulder. Kreacher gasped sharply.
"Farewell, my friend," Snape said, glancing at Narcissa. Her gaze lingered on her brother for a fleeting second, then, in the next heartbeat, all three vanished from the alley.
An instant later, they appeared beside a quiet lakeshore. The surface rippled gently under the cool evening breeze, and the air was crisp and fresh.
The jolt of Apparition made Regulus stumble, and Kreacher rushed to steady him.
When he found his balance, Regulus looked around in awe.
"Sir," he said, eyes wide at the tranquil scene, "is this the real place where Hogwarts stands?" He clearly thought he'd been brought to a hidden part of the castle grounds.
Snape didn't answer immediately. He released the boy's shoulder and stood before him.
Under the watchful, bewildered gazes of Regulus and Kreacher, the fat Muggle face began to twist and melt like soft wax. Bones cracked softly as the figure stretched and slimmed.
Within seconds, a face Regulus knew all too well appeared before him.
"Severus?!" he gasped, stumbling back in shock and nearly knocking Kreacher over. "It's you?!"
Snape adjusted the loose sleeve of his Muggle coat, now hanging more awkwardly on his leaner frame.
"What's the matter?" he said. "Didn't Narcissa tell you who your contact would be?"
"N-no," Regulus stammered. "Cissy only said I'd be leaving with a trustworthy man who'd take me to the real Hogwarts, a safe place."
"Well, I'm quite trustworthy, her description's fair enough," Snape said dryly. "Compared to staying in your... 'training program' until you collapse or get disposed of, following us is indeed the safer choice.
"All right, Mr. Regulus Black, let's see your left hand."
Regulus flinched at the words "training" and "disposed of." When Snape mentioned his left hand, he instinctively hid it behind his back, fear flashing across his face.
But one look at Snape's unsympathetic eyes made him slowly extend it forward.
Snape gripped his wrist, pulling up his sleeve to expose the dark mark etched into the inner forearm, a skull with a serpent tongue.
"Don't touch that! Master Regulus!" Kreacher shrieked, lunging forward, but Snape's cold glance froze him in place. The elf whimpered, twisting his towel in anxious hands.
Regulus watched nervously, unsure what Snape intended.
"We'll have to do something about this special tattoo," Snape said, eyeing the mark. He drew a thick piece of parchment from his pocket. "I'm willing to believe in your remorse, Regulus, but that belief doesn't mean I'll risk everyone else's lives on your self-control."
"This mark," Snape continued, looking up, "is both a locator and a summoning beacon."
"Relax." He spread the parchment over Regulus's forearm, covering the skull-and-serpent emblem.
Pointing his wand, Snape murmured a complex incantation. Gentle light flowed from the wand tip, seeping into the parchment.
Kreacher's long ears stood straight, his eyes fixed on the wand, ready to throw himself forward at the slightest sign of harm.
As Snape's magic took hold, the parchment's edges softened and stretched, merging seamlessly with Regulus's skin. Its color shifted to match his flesh tone until it resembled a faintly darker patch of textured skin.
"There. You won't be able to touch it now," Snape said, lowering his wand and examining his work with satisfaction.
Regulus lifted his arm toward the dim light, inspecting it. The patch felt slightly different, taut, with a faint alien texture.
He looked at Snape, questioning silently.
"Don't worry," Snape said, pocketing his wand. "It's not permanent. I'm not your dear brother Sirius, who thinks Permanency Charms are perfect for plastering Muggle pin-up girls on his wall. This is just a cover layer. It can be removed."
At Sirius's name, Regulus's eyes flickered.
"Then..." he hesitated, "Sirius, is he with you too?"
"He left long ago, chose another path," Snape replied shortly. "Now, the next step, empty your belongings. Everything: wand, trinkets, letters, keepsakes... all of it."
Regulus blinked, then obediently began pulling items from his robe pockets. Kreacher bustled to help.
"We didn't bring much," Regulus explained, handing Snape a small embroidered pouch bearing the Black family crest. "We packed in a hurry."
Snape opened the pouch. It was full of Galleons.
Frowning, he examined each coin carefully with his wand, checking for traces of enchantment beyond the goblins' standard anti-forgery charms.
Satisfied, he tossed the bag to Kreacher. "Hold onto that. Your master's pocket money."
Then he picked up a small square mirror.
"It's a two-way mirror," Regulus said quickly. "It's one of a pair, the other's with my mother. It lets us talk, to know we're both safe." His voice faltered. "She borrowed it from Uncle Alphard. They haven't spoken in years..."
"This will stay with me," Snape said, slipping the mirror into his robe. "No outside communication is permitted aboard the ship without approval. If you need to use it, you'll come to me and do so under supervision. Understood?"
Regulus's eyes dimmed with disappointment, but he nodded quietly. "Understood."