"Shame you can't choose your family, huh? If you could, we'd all be a lot happier." Regulus Black

CHAPTER TEN

Recovery changes your perspective. For days I sat like a statue, watching the sunlight filter through the windows and the fluttering shadows of moths' wings darting across the walls as another day ended and night closed in, and I began to see things differently. I say it was recovery, but the truth is I had fully recovered after a week; unbeknown to Madame Pomfrey, I downed the whole bottle of Skelegro under the covers after her strict instructions to only take a teaspoon, but it was an action that was both reckless and prudent. Reckless, in that it said absolutely nothing on the label about the side effects – have you ever had feet the size of footballs? What was worse than the swelling was the fact that I couldn't even ask to be healed as that would mean admitting I'd overdosed in the first place, so I spent three days wearing giant furry slippers and taking half an hour to hobble to the toilet and back. But also prudent, in that I was back to normal seven days later and literally begging to be allowed to leave. I've never liked the hospital wing; the clean surfaces, the harsh sound of bed curtains scraping shut, the hustle and bustle of illness while you lie there agitated, watching time pass with the resonant tick of the clock. It made me feel pathetic. Even sleep was tainted: whenever I closed my eyes, I saw Sirius turning back at the door, but this time he was laughing at me.

As it turned out, the fall from Gryffindor Tower had not killed me; several students had spotted me plummeting to the ground and a Ravenclaw seventh year had pulled out his wand just in time. However, I had broken thirteen of my bones, including all the fingers of my right hand. This was lucky, as otherwise I might've been tempted to punch Lupin in the face when he told me Potter was putting me on 'temporary leave' from Quidditch.

"It's not going to be forever," said Remus idly, lounging on the end of my bed with his feet up on the headboard one sunny afternoon. "Just until everything's healed up and you're back to your old self."

"'Temporary leave'?! What's that when it's at home?! Stop sugar coating it; James is kicking me off the team isn't he?"

"No, of course he's not!"

"He is! I'm injured one time and bam: three years of hard work and dedication eradicated."

"Emmeline, that's not –"

"Where would he have been if I hadn't taken that penalty last year when I scored in the last second? Would the Quidditch Cup still be in the common room right now? Would it?"

"You've got the wrong end of the – "

"I don't bloody think so."

"Just shut up, will you?" Remus kicked me lightly round the head in exasperation. "He's not throwing you off the team; he's being a considerate person and giving you the best possible chance to recover before he puts you right back in the hospital wing for being such an idiot. It's your own fault anyway, and I don't care what Padfoot says: flying around the turrets in the rain was your brilliant idea, not his."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "He told you what happened then?"

"Yeah, and I'm not excusing what he did. But why you felt the need to go skipping off down to the changing rooms, hop on a centuries-old death trap of a broomstick and take a quick jaunt up to Gryffindor Tower – and in a thunderstorm too, need I mention – none of us will ever understand."

"It's not as simple as that," I muttered, feeling stupid. "I was upset; I wanted to clear my head."

"There's clearing your head, and there's spattering its contents all over the courtyard," said Remus coldly. "Don't expect sympathy; you should've known what you were doing was a mistake."

"Well if you ever walk in on someone who you thought was into you with their tongue down someone else's throat, let me know what you feel like doing and it won't be Charms homework," I snapped. "What was I meant to do? I couldn't just stand there."

There was a long pause. Remus stared at me quizzically, waiting for me to continue, but my tongue had somehow glued itself to the roof of my mouth. This was the first time I'd had the chance to tell someone how I felt about what had happened, but, after days of wishing I could confess the turmoil in my head to another human being, out loud it all felt trivial.

"I hope he apologised," said Remus after awhile. A shaft of sunlight fell, brightened, then faded again on the white duvet. I stretched out my fingers to brush its imprint.

"In his own way, I suppose. I don't remember all of it." I looked up and smiled sardonically. "He said the word 'sorry' about nine times, tried to hug me which resulted in me coughing my guts out, and then ended up yelling that I take stuff too seriously. Oh, and I think he said something about wanting us to be friends, but I was pretty out of it by then so he might've been saying he never wanted to see me again, which in my opinion is a much more desirable series of events. And I guess that was about it."

Remus sighed deeply. "I know this probably isn't what you want to hear right now, but he felt really bad about the whole thing. He pesters Lily constantly for news about you, won't stop talking about how it was all his fault...he's not exactly taking it well, this whole... enemy sex thing you guys have got going on."

"Look, we're not shagging anymore ok? I'm never going there again."

"That's what you said last time."

"Last time I wasn't lying in a hospital bed with thirteen broken bones and a black eye. Things have changed."

Remus smirked and then stood up to stretch, checking his watch as he did so. "Em, I've got to go – got a date with Marlene in half an hour and I have to go see McGonagall first to try and get out of detention. You're being discharged tomorrow though right? I think Prongs was saying something about having a party to celebrate."

"Holy Merlin, do not let him do that!" I moaned. "That would mean I'd have to socialise. Tell him I've had a relapse."

"That won't help change his mind about Quidditch."

"C'est la vie. At least I won't have to pretend to enjoy drinking Firewhiskey and then wake up feeling like shit in the morning next to a guy I can't stand."

"Anything's better than that," Remus agreed, heading for the door. "Get well soon, mate."

I gazed at his retreating back frantically for a few seconds before going with the instinct. "Hey, Remus!" I called after him.

He turned back with a hand on the door frame. For a second I had a jolt of déjà vu and saw Sirius in his place.

"What's up?"

I registered the sandy hair and freckles and realised where I was. "Tomorrow we need to...we need to have a talk. There's something I need to tell you and I don't think it can...I think I need to tell you soon."

He blinked. "Sure. I'll come find you after Potions."

"Cool. Perfect. Thanks. See you later, then. Enjoy sucking face with Marlene."

He winked and was gone.

I still hadn't had a chance to talk to him about what I'd found out eavesdropping on the Marauders. Maybe that was because a fairly big part of me didn't want to; I'd seen the shame in his eyes when James had mentioned 'the full moon' in the library and I didn't want to cause him any pain. He clearly, not unsurprisingly, didn't want this werewolf thing broadcast to the student body but naturally I wasn't about to tell anyone. And it had not changed my opinion of him in the slightest. All it had done was increase my respect for him, as I imagine it's not easy to live with a condition like that and still be an uncompromisingly nice person. But it was even worse knowing and having him not know that I knew. I've never been any good at keeping my feelings to myself, and I didn't want this to confuse anything: once he knew I knew, a bridge could be crossed, a mountain climbed, an obstacle overcome without ever really having to tackle it. But I'd tried to imagine how I would start that particular conversation and had so far drawn a blank; "Hey Remus, did I tell you I was spying on you and your friends the other day and accidently found out you're a werewolf?" I wouldn't be surprised if he punched me in the face.

The next day dawned bright and sunny. I woke up early and dressed in jeans, a tank top and a jumper with my undone robes over the top, plaiting my hair to the side and applying some mascara for good measure before banging unceremoniously on Madame Pomfrey's door. With pursed lips, she let me leave on the condition that I came back that evening for a check up, but I was already signing the treatment files on the desk and skipping happily out of the door. I was free! No more lying hopelessly in bed being waited on hand and foot! No more doses of strange-tasting potions or Madame Pomfrey thrusting a thermometer into my mouth every ten minutes! I span around laughing with my arms stretched out like a little girl in the falling snow; ah, the sweet taste of liberty.

However, by the time I got down to the Great Hall, it was deserted: I had forgotten it was a Friday, and a school day. With my mood thoroughly deflated, I slouched out of the hall and made my way up to Gryffindor Tower to get my textbooks and my wand, but found the latter to be missing. Not under my bed, not in the pockets of my jeans, not on my bedside table. This was worrying to say the least; not having a wand is like not having an education at Hogwarts. Panicking, I even tried the boy's dormitory in case I'd accidently left in the shower or something, but there was nothing there either. I slumped down on Sirius's bed with my head in my hands, trying to retrace my steps. I'd definitely had my wand with me when I'd found Sirius in the Owlery because I remember reaching for it in anger when he'd suggested we 'hang out'. Then again, I didn't have it when I was hanging off the top of Gryffindor Tower – otherwise, believe me, I wouldn't have spent the last week in the hospital wing. So where had I been between those two events? I put two and two together and headed out towards the Quidditch pitch.

When I got down there, the sun was swelteringly hot. I mopped my forehead and pulled off my jumper – with a start, I realised it was Sirius's Quidditch jersey so I trampled it into the mud – before sliding the elastic band out of my hair to wear it loose down my back. The Quidditch pitch was a vast expanse of shimmering green under a block of pale blue sky. The flags hung limp and defeated in the heat, their bright colours faded and contrasting with the sharp glare of the goal posts which were gleaming in the sunshine.

The changing room was mercifully cooler. Firstly, I checked under all the side benches and in the pockets of all the Quidditch robes hanging on the hooks, but there was nothing there except dirty socks, broomstick twigs and old Droobles wrappers. There was also nothing in the broom cupboard, although that search wasn't exactly thorough as I had nothing to cast Lumos with, so I had to hunt in pitch blackness. I ended up collapsed on the floor against the wall (wishing I'd taken my last dose of medication as my feet were beginning to feel ballooned again), so I let my eyes droop shut; Sirius's face swam before me as I knew it would. Too often I had found myself dreaming about his arms around me and his lips on mine, foreheads pressed together or eyes locked across a darkened room. It was still an internal battle. In my head, I knew that nothing would change the fact that he'd acted unforgivably and it had killed something inside me, something that I wouldn't ever feel for him again. But my heart still craved him, and that was something that, however hard I tried, I could not control. His voice in my head; "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were...how shall I put it? Conflicted." What a weakling, I thought bitterly, surrendering to pathetic teenage hormones. And on top of all that, I'd lost my wand. The bed in the hospital wing was now beginning to look increasingly inviting.

"Is this what you were looking for?"

My eyes flew open. A boy was leaning in the doorway smirking at me. Whether it was because of what I'd just been thinking about or a little thing called family resemblance, I still cannot tell but in the good seven seconds of silence that followed, I could've sworn I was looking at Sirius Black. It was only when the boy put his head on one side quizzically that I realised it was someone else; the eyes were identical copies of Sirius's but they were narrowed and cold. The skin was paler and the nose sharper. The dark hair was longer but well kempt, not dishevelled like Sirius's and this person was shorter and thinner and generally smaller. The last thing I noticed was the gleaming Slytherin badge on his robes. Oh, and the small fact that he was holding my wand.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked rudely.

The boy feigned a look of wounded innocence. "Well, that's one way of saying thank you," he said reproachfully, flicking my wand into the air and catching it easily. "If I hadn't been down here, who knows who might've come along and picked this up? It's not a particularly well-protected place, the Quidditch pitch; lots of unsavoury characters around. I'm sure you wouldn't have wanted this," he threw my wand in the air again, "to fall into the wrong hands." He caught it deftly and grinned at me. Call me paranoid, but the smile seemed malicious.

I got to my feet and eyed him with suspicion. "Well, now I'm here so you can hand it over."

The boy continued to smirk but did not move. "What's your name?"

"What's it to you? Give me my wand back, snake."

"Hmm not very friendly, are you? In case you haven't noticed, I'm the one with the power here so maybe you should start being a bit nicer."

"Is that meant to be a threat?" He didn't reply. I rolled my eyes impatiently. "Oh alright then, have it your way. Vance. My name's Emmeline Vance."

The boy sneered. "Oh yeah, you're Sirius's friend. I should've guessed, I've seen you with him before. You're a mudblood, right? Most of his friends are."

At this point, I still hadn't twigged who I was talking to. If I had, I might've been a bit more careful what I said, but I've not been called careful very often. Sometimes the opposite, in fact. "Mudblood? Wow, that's an original one. Shame I'm not actually a Muggle-born or I might have actually been slightly insulted by that. And hey, it's always nice to know what your stalkers look like. It gives you a nice clear picture of what to put on the restraining order. Have you got a name to go with it?"

His expression didn't change. "Regulus Arcturus Black. Nice to meet you."

Family affairs had always been a no-go zone with Sirius. I'd never talked about it with him directly, partly because we'd never really got to know each other until this year, but from what I'd learnt from James it was tense to say the least. It was well-known that his family were proud purebloods, bordering on Deatheaters. He'd said he had a brother once on the train in second year, but that had gone something along the lines of "My brother's starting this year; they've already saved him a seat at the Slytherin table." They weren't close; that much was apparent. Regulus Black was uncharted territory, but he was friends with all the usual suspects; Malfoy, Rosier, LeStrange. I'd seen Sirius wince more than once before when James had mentioned the holidays were coming up; the holidays meant we had to go home, and I got the feeling Sirius's home wasn't the same as other people's. He never received letters or Christmas presents, and even on his birthday, there wasn't a single card from anyone sharing his surname. He laughed about it in front of everyone, but I could've sworn there was something else in his eyes, something that looked like disappointment.

"The pleasure's all yours," I said coolly. Then I realised. "Black? Regulus whatever Black? Oh no, you're not...you're Sirius's brother aren't you?"

"Define brother," muttered Regulus, scowling. "By blood, yeah, we're related but he's not part of my family. I get the money when our parents die. I'm friends with the Minister for Magic. And Sirius? He hangs out with people like you. Mudbloods and half-breeds."

It was the second part of that evil three-word statement that caught my attention. "Who're you calling a half-breed?"

"Don't pretend like you don't know. Ever wondered why that shabby nerd you hang out with is always scurrying off to the Shrieking Shack when there's a full moon? Lupin, isn't it?"

"Remus is my friend," I snarled. "So you can shut your mouth."

Regulus smirked and glanced absent-mindedly at my wand in his hand. "I haven't told anyone about it yet: it's quite a nice card to have. I always know I've won, because I could get one of Sirius's best friends kicked out of here just like that." He clicked his fingers. "My scumbag brother would never forgive himself."

"At least your brother doesn't feel the need to insult other people to make himself look good. At least he can see past someone's blood status and recognize when someone is a genuinely nice kind-hearted human being," I said coldly. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, please. You're just like Sirius." Regulus put on a high-pitched whining voice. "'Werewolves are just the same as us except once a month they turn into man-eating lunatics. What's so bad about that?'"

I didn't reply, not because I couldn't think of anything to say but because I was suddenly feeling a whole new set of emotions for Sirius: pity being one of them. If this was what his brother was like, the rest of his family had to be ten times worse. No wonder he didn't like going to see them.

Regulus was still playing with my wand. "Emmeline Vance...he's mentioned you before. Got a bit of a crush if you ask me. Can't see why though: I thought he had better taste."

"Funny," I said coldly. "He's never mentioned you."

Something flitted across Regulus's face. Whether it was hurt or fear or anger I couldn't say, as in a second it was gone and his malicious smile was back in place. But the barrier had come down and I'd seen what lay behind it.

"Good. He doesn't deserve his own name," said Regulus, a little too quickly. "And if I were you, I'd remember who's got the wand here. Like I said; you should say thank you. Anyone could have picked this up and run off back to the castle with it."

"Anyone's better than you," I retorted, beginning to get angry. "Give it back. Now."

"Or what?" he taunted. "You'll stamp on my foot? Set your pet werewolf on me?"

"You're just an evil lowdown coward who picks on other people for fun. Stealing someone's wand...it's hardly brave, is it?

"I could hex you right now and no one would come running to the rescue," snarled Regulus.

I'm not sure why I was goading him so much seeing as truthfully, I was the one in trouble here but I couldn't stop myself. "Go on then! I bet you don't even know a decent curse."

At this stage I was proven wrong. I heard the word "Levicorpus" and the next second I was hoisted upside down into the air by my ankle, blood rushing to my head and my hair obscuring the world from my vision. I swore loudly, fighting against the invisible hand holding me there but that only made my head pound harder. Instinctively, I reached for my wand in my back pocket before realising the state of affairs and instead cursing my own temper. How do I find myself in these situations?!

"There," said Regulus's smug voice. "Maybe that will teach you a –"

I never heard the last part of that sentence as at that moment, the unmistakeable sound of a fist colliding with someone's jaw cut through the air. There was a muffled shout that sounded like "Get off me, you dick!", some more punches and then a dull thud as something hit the floor followed by a gasp of pain. Then there was a laugh, and I closed my eyes in disbelief because the sound was way, way too familiar.

"Jeez, Reg, you're losing your touch: you fight like a bloody Muggle. Practise on Kreacher and then come back when you've learnt how to throw a real punch."

I heard ragged breathing. "You might as well be a Muggle as far as the family's concerned."

The first voice hardened. "You can tell that family to forget about next Saturday. I don't want to have to put up with a bunch of Deatheaters insulting my friends."

"You haven't got a choice. Even if you don't want to – "

"Just get out of here, Reg. And don't ever let me catch you near Vance or any other of my friends again, do you hear me?"

Footsteps, and then a pause. "This isn't over. And don't think you're so special that you can just decide to back out of stuff like this. Shame you can't choose your family, huh? If you could, we'd all be a lot happier. See you around, wanker." The footsteps faded into the distance.

There was a deep sigh and a mutter of the counter curse. I came crashing back down to the floor with a thud, letting out another howl of pain as I landed on my swollen feet which by now were expanding the leather of my shoes due to the switching of north and south I'd just had to witness. I flicked the hair out of my eyes blearily and looked around for Regulus, but he had gone. In his place was the second last person I wanted to see, grinning down at me with a cut lip and his hand outstretched.

"Nice to know you're getting along so well with my brother," said Sirius.

A/N: Thank you to all of you who are still with me despite this irregular updating. New chapter = new character. Welcome Regulus Black, who we haven't seen the last of. Hope you enjoyed chapter 10! Leave me a review if you did? Thanks again, and apologies for keeping you waiting x