APRIL 15, 1976

KATHLEEN WAS AN IMPATIENT PERSON, so she didn't wait to see her uncle in person to ask him about the Hayes boy. Instead, she'd sent Theseus to Slovakia even though Uncle Ignatius were supposed to be back in Wales only a few hours later. Thankfully, unlike herself, Uncle Ig was a patient person.

Dear Kitty,

How did you come about this information? This is a surprise: Headmaster Dippet was quite good at keeping so called 'scandals' such as these a secret. I knew Archie very well. He was a fifth year when I was Head Boy, and had just been named Prefect. A little pompous about it, of course, but we were all that way. 

It was I who dragged his body out of the Black Lake. I was courting Lucy at the time, and she had developed an affinity for the winter roses on the shore. It was early morning, and initially I thought the shape in the water was one of the kelpies, but then I recognized the robes. I called the Headmaster, who removed me from the scene. I shudder when thinking of the image, even decades later. His hands were missing, his mouth open in a final scream, his veins dragging through water. A few hours later, I met with Dippet once more, who told me that Aurors took Archie's body for autopsy, and ordered me to never speak of my discovery until an official statement had been released. 

That was the last I knew of Archibald Hayes. A few Gryffindors theorized he was attacked by the Giant Squid. I accepted it as an accident, until I was well deep in the annals of Germany, fighting for the cause against Grindlewald, and recognized the same terrors in the war victims as the ones in Archie. Torture, Kitty, was what happened upon him. I returned, and tried to open a case of investigation, but was silenced by the Board, again and again. By then, Archie had been dead for years, and it was like no one knew him at all.

Know that whatever information given to you by someone else may be false. Before receiving your letter, I have spent too long keeping quiet about him, but you have inspired me to do otherwise. Archibald Hayes was innocent, honorable, righteous, and a true Gryffindor, murdered with foul play by parties that will inevitably be uncovered. Carry this fight, Kitty, with me, if you are willing.

Speak to you soon,

Ignatius G. Prewett

Kathleen gnawed at her thumb for hours after receiving the letter, but at dinner her Aunt and Uncle finally arrived, windswept and harried, though with warm smiles on their faces. They all shared a hearty meal of stew ("To warm you two up!" said Mam), and slowly filed back into bed. Kathleen requested to sit next to Uncle Ig in order to ask more questions, but unfortunately, his letter contained pretty much all he knew.

Kathleen went to bed with a heavy heart, wondering if Maxwell Fawley felt the same about Archie Hayes as she did about Persephone Finch. She still had her book about Delfina Crimp in her trunk, and was almost halfway through. She decided that she would research about Archie Hayes after her Slashing Spell research was done. 

The sky was clear and dark when Kathleen curled up under multiple blankets, ready to sleep, before she noticed a blue spark sizzling on the other side of her window, barely the size of a fist. Confused, she stepped past her rug and held her face against the glass panes. Looking down into the windy grounds of Prewett Keep, there was only one person that she'd recognize that black trench coat with. 

"Black? What in Merlin's name..." she said as she opened the garden doors. "It's the middle of the night, I-"

"-'M s'rry" Black gasped, and Kathleen realized that he was hunched over. His coat was only shrugged on, and his arms wrapped unsteadily around his chest. "I didn't know where else to go."

Kathleen blanked, gaping at him, before remembering her manners and letting him in. He stumbled inside, as if he was a drunkard, before collapsing on the nearest armchair.

"...Why were you out there? It's freezing," Kathleen stood over him, as Black, skin pale, leaned his head back against the velvet seat. "Wait- how did you get to Wales? What happened to you? Are you sick?"

Black let out a short breath, fanning a few strands of his hair that fell over his face. He was pale, paler than Kathleen had ever seen him, and now that he was out of the coastal breeze a thin layer of sweat had formed over his forehead. Kathleen fought the urge to press a hand against it. His breath rattled against the soft shirt over his chest, and each time he inhaled too deep, he let out a half-broken sort of hiccup like the sound of a wounded animal.

"Nothing, I just-" Black gasped again, and Kathleen lurched backwards in fright. "Please, can I stay the night? Is- is Aunt Lucretia here?"

"I- I mean, sure, my parents will probably let you, and, er- she is," Kathleen stammered, fiddling with her fingers unsurely. Dammit, she was bad in stressful situations. Black didn't seem hurt with any physical wounds, but his frame shook like a doll. "Let me get her. Bessie!"

Bessie appeared with a crack, and immediately jumped backwards at the sight of the stranger. "Oh, my, a guest?"

"Um- yes, a guest," Kathleen said quickly. "Er- get him a Warming Potion, a Regeneration Potion, and get Aunt Lucy!"

Bessie, forever understanding, popped right out downstairs to the basement laboratory, and Kathleen prayed that they still had enough stashes of Potions down there. Kathleen's breaths came out even faster than Black's, as she frantically reached her palm up to his forehead. He opened his eyes as Kathleen hesitated, before gently placing her hand over his icy skin. Black inhaled deeply when he felt her touch, as if she was drinking in the feeling of her skin like water.

"What happened to you?" Kathleen murmured softly to the wounded child, holding her face mere inches from his. The last time she'd been this close was weeks ago. 

"Cruciatus," Black mumbled, and made a little noise of protest when she pulled his hand away in shock. "Among other things."

"I- what?" Kathleen's eyes flew wide. "Cruci- but that's illegal, that-"

I do not jest when I declare that my blood family is headed towards a dark spiral, it threatens to rip me apart. She recalled Aunt Lucy's words to her at the start of the month. Could it be...?

"Regulus. Regulus! Merlin," hurried footsteps sounded behind Kathleen, and she turned to see Aunt Lucy storming through the drawing room with her sleep robe flowing behind her, Uncle Ignatius hastily hurrying behind her. "Oh, my boy."

"Aunt Lucretia," Black murmured desperately, barely opening his eyes as he tried to lift a trembling hand. "I- please, I can't go back, don't make me go back-"

"Oh no, no, no," Aunt Lucy kneeled next to Black's chair, snatching the bottle of Regeneration Potion the moment it appeared on the tea table. "Bois ça, tout de suite."

"No, Aunt Lucretia, I can't go back, listen!" tears started bubbling out of Black's eyes, as he talked over Aunt Lucy's begs. "My mother- the Cruciatus Curse, I can't stay there,"

"Shh, shh, je comprends," Aunt Lucy threw her arms around the boy, as Black tears stained her silk nightdress. His fists unclenched as Aunt Lucy began to slowly rock him side to side, and Kathleen watched hesitantly. Aunt Lucy knew, and maybe she always knew. They were both Blacks, after all, born and raised. She knew everything he was going through like Kathleen never would.

"Kitty," Uncle Ignatius whispered into her ear, as one arm snaked around her shoulders. "Rhaid i ni eu gadael,"

"Na," Kathleen tried wriggling out of his grasp, but he'd already began guiding her to the staircase. "Wait- Mae e'n sal-"

"Bydd Lucretia yn deall. Hi yw ei teulu," Uncle Ig firmly grabbed her by the shoulders, walking them both out onto the stairs to Kathleen's fading protests.

She threw one last look back at the armchair by the door, where Aunt Lucy had started speaking softly to Black, and didn't let her gaze tear until they turned the bend in the staircase to go up to the second floor. Her heartstrings tugged to the boy, but she was forced to walk alongside Uncle Ig as he whispered firm instructions to her that she only half-understood.

The Cruciatus Curse, used in his own home. There had to be a way for him to get out. His brother lived with James Potter, everyone in Gryffindor knew it. And even if him and Potter hated each other, there had to be some way for him to find fostership in another person. Maybe he could live with Crouch? No, that house was mad. Kathleen flicked through names, but quickly dismissed them with disappointment.

"This is where I leave you. Go to bed, Kitty," Uncle Ig said gently, as he opened the door to her bedroom, waiting for her to walk inside.

"They were torturing him, Uncle Ig," Kathleen choked out, blinking away her tears. "His own parents, they're his family-"

"I know," Uncle Ig sighed heavily. "And I had a much angrier response than you, when I heard everything that occurred in Lucretia's youth. But there was nothing I could do. We'll talk in the morning. Go on,"

He nudged her to her door, and Kathleen numbly stepped through. For a moment she stood there, letting the wind whistle through into her room from the window that remained ajar. That house is a corpse, rotten and decaying with every newborn cursed with the name Black. Kathleen didn't believe it then, but now she did.