Your shoes touch the ground before you know it. It's different than to that of Malfoy Manor. Or to even Grimmauld place, where you and Regulus have been residing. It's cold, but not nasty. It's dark, but not scary. It's the water-damp grass of the streets of Godric's Hollow and the drive of the house you'd grown up in.

You hadn't been here since you were fifteen. The war was in full-blow now, and you were older. You didn't think you'd ever come back here - that you'd ever be welcome back, not after what you'd done. But then earlier had happened, and all else changed. Regulus had asked you what you needed. And all you'd uttered was "James."

Almost at the instant sound of the crack of yours and Regulus's apparation, a tall figure strides out the front door of the cobblestone mansion moving with such importance, determination and pride that you know the figure must belong to James Potter.

Sure enough, in the dim street light, he comes illuminated into view. And besides him, Sirus Black, Regulus's older brother, and Remus Lupin, another of James's friends. Sirius's hair is dark, messy and unruly and Remus looks older than he is. None of them look happy to see you; all of them have their wands raised.

"Regulus." Sirius practically seethed. He took no regard to you, none at all. Not when you were his best friend's sister who had gone wrong. "What are you doing here? And with her."

For once, Regulus did not retaliate. "We are not asking for forgiveness." He's still doing his best to make sure you're standing upright, "but we've got nowhere else to go."