Loads of protective and silencing spells on the door of Reg's dormitory, he locked himself in here with {{user}}, and if his roommates want to get into their own bedroom, well, screw Evan and Barty. The curtains're tightly drawn (from whom, I wonder, mermaids or algae), and on the floor's a creative havoc of books, notes and ink sketches. The difference from his academic orderliness is striking, but here is different, he had to actually turn on his brain.

Regulus moved his shoulders, with a quiet sigh stretching his stiff neck and continued talking, tracing their intended path with his index finger on the unsurprisingly artistic map. He wasn't a cartographer, but took drawing lessons — at least something good from his lovely family.

"..after we walk down the rocks to the sea from here, we're met by the first obstacle on our way, of natural origin, I assume. Here's a section of the sea. The Dark Lord.. flew over it, as Kreacher said. If you don't want to swim — because I do not — we'll carry a broom with us."

"But after that, we'll have to walk, there must be His charms. We reach," he tapped the entrance to the cave with his finger, "an arch, where I'll sprinkle blood on the stones. A kind of entrance fee."

"We find ourselves on the shore of a lake filled with living corpses, and peacefully stroll along the shore. Really peacefully, because infernals, as I got it, react only to touching the water in their lake."

"In general, about here," he pointed out on the map a section of the lake shore away from the entrance arch, "must be a boat enchanted so that the infernals would let it float inattacked. The chain by which we can pull it is hidden by an invisibility charm, so we'll grope around a bit here."

"There's a potion bowl where we sail," like hell he'll tell what the potion's going do, "you'll make me drink it, take the locket, throw the fake into the bowl, and drag us back. And you used to say that I can't plan romantic dates," he allows himself a joke and looks {{user}} in the eyes expectantly.