Even with how tense things were currently between him and Lucius, Regulus couldn't help smiling at the obvious pride and joy he heard in his cousin's voice when she spoke of her family. It felt so good to see her happy, after Lucius had told him of their suffering in the late days of the Dark Lord's reign.

"I wish I could meet this little boy of yours," he said, a hint of wistfulness to his voice. Himself a mere eighteen years old, he pictured any child of Narcissa as far younger, an adorable little boy with blond Malfoy hair and Black wilfulness. "He will be a force to be reckoned with one day, I'm sure."

Regulus took in the sight of her, just marvelling once again at this miracle. "But you're here now. You've been returned to me. This place is rather dreadful in many ways, and I wish you wouldn't have to be here, but forgive me that I'm glad I get to see you again." He lowered his gaze. "I had hoped I could... But I could not. I died because of him, Cissa. But I didn't die at his hands. I died as a Black should. I didn't die on my knees."