- PENSIEVE - regulus black

I. PROLOGUE

Harry glanced up from his mug of hot chocolate, biting the inside of his cheek nervously, "I was just er— wondering . . . did you and Sirius ever, y'know . . . date?"

Eloise choked on her drink.

"Wh—what?" she sputtered, eyes widening almost comically. "Where did you get that idea?"

"I dunno. It's stupid," Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "He brought you up out of nowhere last year, and he seemed pretty worried about you, so I just thought maybe you guys had been together or something of the sort . . . but now that I think about it, it's kind of stupid."

"No, no . . . it's alright Harry," Eloise smiled reassuringly. "That's just not what I was expecting you to say. But to answer your question, no. No, we never dated."

Eloise left out the fact that she had a crush on him for a few months when she was twelve. The only other person who knew that was her best friend, who was dead. Sirius was attractive (not that she'd ever admitted that she thought that to him), and he was a humongous flirt. It was quite hard for her twelve year-old self not to like him.

"Oh."

A few beats of silence.

"Did you ever date anyone?"

Eloise's heart clenched as she remembered the boy with the bluish-grey eyes and dark, curly hair. His snarky attitude and witty remarks. His smug, teasing smile.

She would give anything to speak to him again.

At his Aunt's sudden silence, Harry panicked internally, worrying that he had overstepped something. He opened his mouth to apologize, only for Eloise to start speaking again.

"Yeah," she spoke quietly. "Yeah, I did. That's probably why Sirius was so worried, actually. You wouldn't know him, but I wish you could. He died two years before James and Lily. He probably would've been your uncle, had he lived."

"Oh," Harry's face dropped. "I'm sorry-"

"It's alright, Harry," Eloise paused, seeming to be in thought. "I've been thinking of rewatching some memories for a while . . . since you asked about him, maybe you'd like to see them too? Are you familiar with a Pensieve?"

Harry's face scrunched in confusion, but all Eloise could see was James.

"A what?"

"A Pensieve," she repeated. "It's used to rewatch memories. I can show you my memories of him . . . if you'd like, that is," Eloise added hastily.

"Oh. Well, sure."

Harry was excited to learn more about his Aunt's life, but tried not to show it too much because her past love life was clearly a touchy subject for her. He didn't blame her, of course. He couldn't imagine how his mum or dad would've felt if it was only one of them who died that night.

"C'mon then," she motioned for Harry to follow her. "It's in my bedroom."

Harry walked into his Aunt's small bedroom and indeed, there was a Pensieve in the corner of the room. Although he would've easily mistaken it as some fancy bowl of water if she hadn't explained it beforehand.

She walked over to a small drawer cabinet by her bedside, reached into the topmost drawer, and pulled out a vial labeled 'R.A.B.'.

"Why's it labeled like that?" Harry asked. "Only initials. Every other one has the person's whole name."

And indeed, every other vial had the person's full name on it. Harry's eyes lingered on the one labeled "James."

Eloise Potter smiled, her eyes watering, and looked at her nephew.

"Because that's how he always signed his letters."

Even to the usually oblivious Harry Potter, the heartbreak and longing in his aunt's eyes was visible. Harry felt a wave of respect for her. She always acted so positive and strong, but he could see it clear as day: she still wasn't fully healed.

"What was his name?" Harry finally spoke.

Eloise gave a real smile then, "Regulus Black."

Whatever name Harry was expecting to hear, that was not it.

"Black? Was he related to Sirius?"

Eloise nodded, "Regulus was Sirius' younger brother. Now," she uncapped the vial, "let's take a look, shall we? And just so you know, Regulus was a very . . . complicated person, you could say. But keep in mind the kind of family he came from. Things weren't just black and white."

She paused for a moment, before pouring the vial's contents into the Pensieve.

"Now or never, then. You just stick your face into it . . . on three, okay?"

Harry looked from his Aunt to the Pensieve, then nodded.

"On three."

"Three . . .

two . . .

. . . one."