Regulus Black

Regulus wrote what he wants to say to Sirius ages ago, but hasn't been able to bring himself to send it. But if he doesn't now, he might as well not have bothered.

Before lunch, he heads up to the owlery. If he sends this with Phineas, that's a guarantee Sirius won't even take the letter. He gives it to one of the smaller school owls, adding, "Just... take it to his dorm. You don't have to wait for him, either."

The last thing he wants is to put Sirius through dealing with this in the middle of the great hall.

Later that night, in the privacy of his own room, he writes another quick note (Narcissa - We should talk, over hols. I've a project you might be interested in.) and ties it to Phineas. "You know where to find her."

It's as close as he wants to get to talking about his plans in any form that can be traced, but he wants her to have this in mind, between the formal functions of the season.

While the break from his mother and the expectations she brings with her has certainly been nice, Regulus can’t deny he’s getting a bit restless. He’d really like to be getting on with the school year by now.

Still, one works with what one is handed. At least he’s got a head start on some of his summer homework and a little privacy to get ready for bed.

“I do hope you weren’t planning on a restful night.”

Regulus spins around; he knows that voice – when your ancestors commission portraits with a certain degree of magically-imbued sentience, you get to know them. “Phineas? I wouldn’t have thought this would be your sort of place.”

“Oh, I’m not actually here,” Phineas says, folding his arms. “The winter solstice is an odd time of year. There are spirits about.”

“Aren’t there spirits about all the time?”

“Not of this sort. Some sort of Muggle thing, evidently.” Phineas is clearly dubious, but Regulus can’t blame him for that; it’s not as though the family’s ever gone out of its way to associate with people who lack magic. “They intend to come calling. Under the circumstances, I thought you could do with a warning.”

“A warning? Just what sort of ghosts are these?”

But Phineas is gone, so Regulus shrugs it off and goes to bed as he’d planned.

That lasts an hour or two, until a light in the room starts bothering him. He’s sure he’d turned off the electric light in the room (how that hasn’t shorted itself out in the presence of his magic, he’s not sure; either the Ministry was lying when they said the two won’t mix or it’s down to Milliways), and sits up to look into it.

And then he sees the stranger in his bedroom.

“Ah. You’d be one of the ghosts Phineas mentioned, then.”