Rage.
Like a volcano on the verge of exploding and releasing hot-white lava into all directions. Catharsis.
It had a time and a place.
But not here. Not now.
Not at home.
Not in the living room, sitting with the Potters, their eyes widening, horrified at the story Sirius told them. Not at his little brother's hanging head, the boy not daring to look Mrs. Potter in the eyes as she got up and hugged him tightly. It's not your fault. Not even at Mr. Potter furiously jumping up and flooing straight to Hogwarts.
No, at home, all Sirius felt was a fierce tenderness towards his child. His brave, wonderful little brother.
And back in their room, many hours later, shortly before bedtime - how Regulus patiently lay on his stomach, head buried in his crossed arms, as Sirius sat next to him, his hands gently moving over his brother's bare back. He pressed down on the lowest part of his back. "Does this hurt?"
"No."
"And this?" Sirius' hands moved up Regulus' spine, vertebrae for vertebrae.
"Huh-uh."
"What?"
"No."
Even that tone - the slight annoyance echoing in it - Sirius didn't care about it because he understood, suddenly. Reg had told him his back wasn't hurting, but Sirius had to convince himself of it. And Reg had grumbled a little but allowed it, knowing that Sirius was going to feel better afterward, that Sirius needed this - needed to feel like he'd made sure Reg was fine, like he'd done everything he possibly could.
This patience suddenly betraying Regulus' eye-rolls, a loving compliance despite his outward display of annoyance. Because of that, taking care of Reg - Sirius had never done so with so much love bottled up in his chest.
He put his hands on Regulus' shoulders, put some pressure on his shoulder blades.
"Oof."
Sirius removed his hands, instantly concerned. "Did that hurt?"
"No. You were just pressing down really hard."
"All right." Sirius sat back. "Time for your salve."
Regulus groaned. He turned his head, looked at his big brother. "Siri, I'm fine. I don't need you to put that nasty slime on my back any longer."
"Madam Pomfrey said to do it for two weeks, so that's what I'm going to do. It's not only for your back, Reggie. It's good for your magical core as well."
"It smells nasty."
"Don't be a baby. You know this is not up for discussion."
Sirius poured out a generous amount of lotion and put his hands back on Regulus' shoulders. The salve was cool, and the boy shivered. Sirius covered the area quickly, massaged it into his skin, starting on his neck and working down to the small of his back with circular movements. Regulus closed his eyes. He didn't like to admit it as he hated the smell of that lotion and its green, slimy consistency, but it felt good as it dried on his skin. Soothing.
"Good," Sirius murmured after a few minutes. "That should do. Stay like this for a little while, then you can put your shirt back on."
Regulus had been about to doze off. He turned his head. Yawned. Sirius responded with a light twinkle. It had been a long, exhausting day, and he was glad that Regulus was tired. Maybe now the boy would finally get the rest he so desperately needed.
"Are you going to tell me what you talked about downstairs?" Regulus asked.
After Mr. Potter had returned from his visit to Dumbledore, Sirius and the Potters had talked for a very long time. Sirius had advised his brother to go upstairs and lie down for a bit. You've been through a lot today. You need it.
It hadn't been an order, he wasn't being excluded - for the first time Regulus had realized that this was Sirius showing that he cared, that he still cared about him, despite everything, so Regulus had accepted the offer gladly and retreated to his room while Sirius and the Potters assembled in the living room. Still, after an hour or so, he had begun to worry. What was taking them so long? What was there to talk about? Too anxious then to return back downstairs - especially because the voices were raised a little from time to time - he'd curled up on his bed and listened to the muffled sounds coming from the living room. But with the sound of the wind rising and the drumming of snowflakes against the windowpane turning into a crisp pizzicato, a new tension had seized his mind and body.
What if the Potters weren't as forgiving as Sirius? James and Sirius had put themselves in grave danger when they went to Lestrange Manor to find him. And James was Mr. and Mrs. Potters' only child. If anything had happened to James only because Regulus had got caught in his own web of lies - they would have never forgiven him, Regulus was sure of it. Even to Sirius, forgiveness wouldn't have come easy in that case. Nothing can be too bad, Sirius had said. Maybe not bad enough to hate him, but to stop loving him? And so Regulus' thoughts had spiraled up into worrisome heights - speculations, what-ifs that scared him suddenly, now that the limits of what Sirius' love could withstand had been extended. But everything had a limit, and Regulus had to keep his eyes on it to remember about it.
Sirius used a paper towel to clean his hands. "We talked about school. Mr. Potter paid Professor Dumbledore a visit and gave him a good piece of his mind. So we talked about uh… the future. Thought about what best to do next."
"So Dumbledore knows that I told you?"
Sirius heard the sudden fear swinging in Regulus' voice.
"He does."
Regulus turned his head and buried his face in his arms.
"What's the matter, Reggie?"
Regulus' eyes welled up and he sniffed to hold the tears back, glad that Sirius couldn't see them. "Mr. Potter shouldn't have told him."
"Why not?"
Regulus bit his lip to keep it from trembling. "He's going to send me to Azkaban."
Sirius put a hand on the back of Regulus' head, drawing soothing circles with his thumb. "Dumbledore is going to do nothing of that sort. You're a minor, Reggie. He can't send you to Azkaban, even if he wanted to. Which he doesn't anyway."
Regulus turned his head and looked at him, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. "How do you know that? He said that he can."
"First of all, he can't - well, only if he wanted to lose his job because your case has got quite the rat's tail attached to it. It would drag him down with you and guarantee him a cell right next to yours. Secondly, you're a minor. You were threatened. Any court would see that immediately. Lastly and most importantly, however, you're my little brother. I'd never let that happen. End of story."
"What do you mean, you wouldn't let it happen?"
Sirius looked very serious now. "What kind of question is that, Reggie? I'd get you out of there and then we'd make a living as outlaws. Duh."
Regulus furrowed his brows. "You can't break out of Azkaban. That's impossible."
"No, that only means we'd be the first ones to do it, right? Nice. I like setting records." Sirius' lips quirked upwards.
Regulus closed his eyes. Sirius wasn't taking him seriously.
"It's going to be different," Sirius said softly. "But we're gonna figure things out. Everything is going to be fine, you'll see."
"No. I'm nothing but a bloody failure…"
Sirius tensed up at that, every fiber of him protesting that statement. Regulus didn't know what he was talking about. "Nonsense," he said forcefully. "That's such bullocks, Reg, really. You can't be serious."
Regulus blinked. "I mean it," he said. "I had a job. And I fucked it up."
"What job?"
Regulus wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "To do something… good, to make up for what I did."
Sirius shook his head. He bent down so their faces were close. "Listen, Reggie. You only have one job, and that is to grow up. To grow into a person you can be proud of. All that other stuff… it doesn't matter."
"But that person is weak," Regulus whispered. "And stupid. As a spy, at least I was able to contribute something to the cause."
A dark frown settled on Sirius' face. "Fuck the bloody cause," he exclaimed hotly. He was surprised by his own words, but they felt right, they felt good. Yes, some people had to put their lives on the line for the protection of others, and that was good and honorable. But not Reg - not his baby brother. Sirius would let the world go up in flames if it asked for his brother to sacrifice his life. He wasn't going to let that happen, and he didn't care that Regulus thought this made him stupid or weak. "What's that cause you're fighting for if it asks for an innocent child to put his life in danger? Your life is way too important for that. Fuck spying. There are dozens of spies out there and they're capable of doing their job because they're adults."
"You put your life on the line too," Regulus said. "For me. For what you believe is right. So many times. And I -"
"Stop," Sirius interrupted him. "Stop right there. That's different. I'm an adult. It's my job to protect you. Your job is to grow up and become a good person and my job is to keep you safe and raise you right. That's the reason why I'm fighting."
"So you're going to fight the Dark Lord?"
Sirius frowned. "Don't call him that. But yes, I'm going to fight him." He was going to fight everyone who wanted to harm his little brother. All those Death Eaters, they would soon know that touching only a hair on Reg's face was going to cost them dearly. He didn't have an exact plan of action yet, but he was going to think of something - something that would make it clear to those snakes that Regulus was being protected by a whole pride of lions and that they could never have him not to mention harm him again.
Reg propped himself up on his elbows. "Then I'm going to join you."
"No." That word left Sirius' lips before his mind even had the time to form it. He straightened his back.
"Because you think I'm weak?"
"No, you're tougher than woodpecker's lips. But you're too young. It's not your place."
Regulus furrowed his forehead. "I'm not a baby. I'm almost an adult too."
Sirius raised his brows. His baby brother, almost an adult? It seemed like Regulus hadn't even listened. "Barely. You're fifteen."
"Exactly. In less than two years I'm coming off age."
That was a scary thought.
Because Reg coming off age wasn't going to change a thing. Sirius was willing to sacrifice anything for what was right, except this. Not this, not his little brother. He hadn't raised him only to watch him die right in front of his eyes. He hadn't spent all his life protecting and sheltering him, desperately holding his feverish little brother has he fought against pneumonia back at Grimmauld Place when they had been children, hadn't pushed him to stand behind him when it came to facing their parents' wrath only to step aside now. He hadn't found him a few months ago only to lose him again in a stupid battle for a house, a street, a castle, or the fucking ministry. No, he wasn't going to sacrifice his brother. Not ever. Not even when Reg was a hundred years old.
Sirius' jaw set as a wave of fierce protectiveness washed over him. "You're an adult when I say you are," he said harshly. "Not a second earlier. And when I tell you to not put yourself in danger, I mean it. I don't care how old you are. You're still my little brother."
Regulus was silent then.
Sirius took a deep breath.
"I bet the Potters think I'm a right moron," Regulus said, changing the topic. "You and James were in danger only because of me. Because I lied."
Sirius swallowed hard. Yes, they had put themselves in danger, and they had done so gladly because Regulus was worth it. "No. Because Bellatrix kidnapped you. And they don't think you're a moron. They… they understand."
"James thinks I'm a coward."
Sirius lightly tugged at his hair. "Nonsense."
Regulus didn't respond. It wasn't as nonsensical as Sirius thought - James had made it clear in the past that he had no respect for him whatsoever. But the way he'd looked at him earlier had left an impression on Regulus. James had been shocked, but not at the horrible situation Regulus had been in - he'd raised his brows at the stupidity that had led Regulus there, had been speechless because he knew exactly how many times Regulus must have lied to lead this kind of double life. He'd looked like he regretted accompanying Sirius to Lestrange manor. While Mrs. Potter had been fussing over him and Mr. Potter had jumped up and flooed to Dumbledore's office, James had sat in his armchair, not uttering a single word, but his gaze had been piercingly sharp as he'd coldly mustered Regulus through his glasses, then had left the room, his feet loud as he'd stomped up the stairs.
"Why do you even care what he thinks?" Sirius questioned.
That was a tough question. And, thinking about it, Regulus realized that he didn't even want to know the answer. But he didn't want James to think he was a moron, that much was clear. He didn't care whether James liked him but he wanted his respect. "I don't."
Sirius stiffened. "Regulus," he said, his tone stern, "we're done with the lying. Once and for all."
Regulus bit his bottom lip. Had he lied? He shrugged again. A firm tap to his bum caused him to quickly turn to his side and look up. Sirius was observing him sharply, a line etched between his brows.
"If you don't want to talk about it, say so. Just don't lie."
"I - I wasn't …" he trailed off. "I'm sorry," Regulus turned back onto his stomach, disconcertingly conscious of how easy it would be for Sirius to smack him in this position. But if Sirius chose to do so, he wasn't going to fight him.
Sirius' expression softened. "All right." He rubbed his brother's back. The salve had dried up. "You can put your shirt back on now."
Regulus quickly did as he was told. The warmth he'd felt only a few minutes ago had faded and he felt cold now. He would've loved to take a hot shower, but he wasn't allowed to wash the salve off before the next morning.
Sirius was already preparing the potions for the night. "I'm going to Hogwarts, tomorrow," he said.
"Why?" Tomorrow was Sunday. Classes started on Monday.
Sirius gave the sleeping draught a good shake, then unscrewed the lid.
Regulus swallowed the nasty thing quickly, knowing that arguing about it wasn't going to lead anywhere. He hated Dreamless Sleep. Despite the fact that the potion basically forced him to rest, he always felt a little confused on the next morning - like he had passed out in the middle of something and couldn't remember how he ended up in his bed.
"I have to talk to Dumbledore," Sirius said, handing his brother a glass of water to wash the taste away.
As soon as he lay back down, Regulus felt his eyelids droop. Sirius tucked the blankets tightly around him.
"But why?" The potion was working quickly. Regulus already had trouble forming the word, let alone the thought. Why. His words slurred as he forced them over his lips.
"Don't worry about that now." Sirius stroked his forehead, tenderly brushed his hair out of his face. "Sleep well, little brother," he whispered.
Regulus didn't even register Sirius getting up anymore.
Rage. Yes, it had a place and a time.
Dumbledore's office, Sunday morning.
Reg had still been asleep when Sirius got up, a restlessness taking hold of his body, forcing him out of his bed and onto his feet.
And now, entering the headmaster's office, the morning sun had barely risen above the tops of the mountains. It shone through the tall windows and created a rectangular arrangement of spots of light on the stone floor, the promise of a sunny day. As Sirius crossed the room, dust whirled up, the scattered particles glittering in the sunlight.
Dumbledore sat in his armchair, dressed in a spectacularly colorful morning gown. He was studying Sirius through his half-moon spectacles, the shadow of a smile on his lips but there was something cold and calculating in his eyes. The chess master pulling strings.
He had been expecting him, Sirius knew that. At least after the previous evening, when Mr. Potter had paid the headmaster an angry visit. Despite that, Sirius reckoned that Dumbledore must've known that Regulus would confide in him sooner or later.
"Ah, Sirius," Dumbledore said. "I can't say I'm surprised."
No, Sirius didn't pay surprise visits anymore. In this case, he wished he had war drums heralding his arrival.
Sirius stopped in front of the man's desk, then, suddenly, was at a loss of words. The headmaster's serenity rendered him speechless. This man, he was sitting here, looking at him like they were going to have a cup of tea while chatting about how they spent their holidays.
Sirius clenched his teeth. He put his palms on the desk's surface and leaned forward.
"You knew," he said, his voice deadly. "You knew and you didn't tell me."
"I suppose you are talking about Regulus."
Sirius grabbed the nearest object he could reach and hurled it across the room. The penholder missed the headmaster's pensieve by a hairbreadth and crashed against a bookshelf. It was satisfyingly loud but did little damage. "Don't play games with me! You know exactly what I am talking about!" he roared. "Blackmailing my little brother into becoming a spy. Using him like a pawn you can just shove around like he means nothing - NOTHING - to you!"
"I had no idea that the events would unfold like this," Dumbledore responded calmly. He hadn't even batted an eye at Sirius' outburst. "All I did was to give Regulus a chance to atone for what he had done."
"He's a boy!" Sirius yelled. "He's got nothing to atone for! It wasn't his fault!"
"He's fifteen," Dumbledore responded, his voice cold. "Criminally liable according to the law."
Sirius' hands tightened to fists. "You know he's not to blame. As soon as he confided in you, you should have told me. He was dragged into this, and you didn't help him. You USED him!"
"We had an agreement," a young male voice said from behind him.
Sirius whirled around, his heart skipping a beat.
Regulus stood next to the door, still in his flannel pajamas, feet bare and hair tousled. Sirius almost didn't believe his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he barked at his brother.
Regulus awkwardly hugged himself around his middle. "I followed you."
"What?!" Already having been angry, it didn't take much for Sirius to start shouting. And this - he hadn't expected this. Reg was supposed to be at home and asleep. Sirius strode towards him. He was mad, suddenly, at Regulus too - could the boy never do as he was told? Sirius was almost certain that Regulus hadn't informed the Potters about where he was headed. What if they thought he'd run away again? They would be incredibly worried. "Floo back home this instant!"
"No."
"Excuse me?"
Regulus swallowed hard. Head high and back straight as if gearing up for a battle, he raised his chin. "No. I want to stay. You promised me that you would be honest with me. But you didn't tell me why you were going here, yesterday. I remember that clearly. You didn't tell me."
"Because it's none of your business," Sirius said harshly. "No do as you're told."
Regulus held his gaze bravely, taking a few steps closer. "You're talking about me. I'm a part of this, so this is very well my business."
"Your brother has a point, Sirius," Dumbledore remarked.
Sirius turned around, glared at the headmaster. He thought he could see the ghost of a smile dancing on the old man's lips.
"I made your brother a promise, Sirius. I swore to secrecy, and I kept up my part of our agreement."
Sirius squared his shoulders. "You made me a promise, as you did the other parents who trust this school to protect their children. Hogwarts is supposed to be a safe place. But Regulus wasn't safe in Slytherin."
"Slytherin has nothing to do with this," Regulus interjected defensively. "It's me who lied to you, Sirius. Professor Dumbledore has nothing to do with this either."
Sirius growled. He took a few long steps towards his brother, grabbed the boy's wrist and dragged him towards the fireplace. "I'm not playing games, Reg! Get your arse home NOW or you'll spend the morning nursing a sore bottom. Your decision."
Regulus looked upset now. "You can't do that," he whined, his face flushing. "You said you wouldn't."
Sirius inwardly cringed. He hadn't expected Regulus to call his bluff. Still, he couldn't completely go back on what he'd just said. "I said no such thing. If it takes a few smacks to your bum to convince you that I'm not joking around, I'm not beyond delivering them."
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Actually, I believe that young Regulus' presence might help to clear up some of the confusion that is still lingering over the events of the past weeks."
Sirius looked from Dumbledore to his brother. Regulus was squirming in his grip, the frown on his young face giving way to a pleading expression. Sirius suppressed a sigh. He knew that, even if he sent Regulus home now, they would have a hellish discussion later, and he really, really, didn't want that. So Sirius took a deep breath, ran his right hand through his hair. He had to keep it together then if Regulus was going to be present. Especially because yelling at the headmaster had actually been part of the reason he wanted to come here in the first place.
"Please," Regulus said. "I'll do anything you say. Just let me stay."
"All right," Sirius agreed reluctantly.
Regulus took a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. Sirius stood behind him, resting his hands on his little brother's shoulders.
"Did you feel unprotected in Slytherin?" Dumbledore asked the boy.
"N-not exactly," Regulus said with an unsure side glance at Sirius. "What happened isn't Professor Slughorn's or anyone else's fault. He can't watch us 24/7. We broke the rules. I - I broke the rules."
"Rules that are in place to keep you safe," Dumbledore nodded.
Sirius thought he saw a faint smile brushing the old man's wrinkly face once more. A smile, false and deceitful and cold, just like the fern frost on the windows wasn't something alive that you could plant in your garden. His jawline sharpened, the veins on his temples becoming more prominent as a fresh surge of anger rushed his blood towards his head. His hands tightened on Regulus' shoulders as he leaned down to speak directly into his ear. "You know exactly that what happened to that journalist wasn't your fault. You didn't break the rules, they forced you to break the rules."
Sirius lifted his right hand, pointed a finger at the headmaster who was comfortably leaning back in his armchair. The king of the castle, comfortable in his armchair, shoving his pawns around but barely even moving a finger himself. "Professor, you knew there are Death Eaters in the dungeons. They walk the halls of this castle every single day and you do nothing about it. You can't tell me that everything is under control; that these people pose no threat to my brother or the other students. So give me one good reason why I should send him back here."
Regulus sucked in his breath. He turned his head, looked at Sirius with those wide, pleading eyes of his.
Sirius hardened his heart a little. Regulus had wanted to stay, so he could very well listen to this too. "I'm not talking to you, Reg," he said before the boy even had the chance to open his mouth. "I'm talking to Professor Dumbledore."
"It would be a pity if he didn't," Dumbledore said slowly, speaking to Sirius while keeping his eyes on Regulus. "Your brother is an excellent student and he always seemed to get along fairly well with his housemates. To lose him as a student would constitute a loss for Slytherin, and thus an even bigger loss for Hogwarts." Dumbledore twinkled, his thin lips bending into a warm smile. "Do you want to return, Mr. Black?"
Regulus straightened up in his chair. "Yes, Sir. I don't want to switch schools. Or houses."
Sirius ran a hand down his face. "Oh you've got to be kidding me," he muttered to himself. They were teaming up against him. "Reg, I know you don't want to leave Hogwarts. I understand. But you gotta understand me too. You gotta think of your safety."
He knew that that was a weak argument in Regulus eyes. The boy didn't grasp the full extent of safety yet. To the fifteen-year-old, Hogwarts had been a home for more than four years. Regulus had his O.W.L.s in a few months, he loved Quidditch, he loved his classes. This was what the boy lived for. And it would break Sirius' heart to take all of that away, to deny his little brother the things he loved most. Yet he was willing to do it if it meant that Regulus would live at all.
Understanding Sirius.
Sometimes it was easy, like when Sirius was in a good mood, his smile shining over his face like the sun. Because then, when Sirius was in a good mood, they felt closer to each other than to anyone else in the world. And Sirius would open up to Regulus. Talk to him. Even about things that he would otherwise keep to himself.
And this allowed Regulus to search for the because - the fundamental reason at the core of all of Sirius' motivations.
Because you're my brother.
Regulus had always thought that that statement was rather abstract. Sirius didn't care about the name of his family. He wouldn't do the same thing for their mother or father. So Regulus doubted that it was blood that made Sirius protect him so fiercely.
So understanding this wasn't easy.
And maybe he wasn't good at it - understanding Sirius. James seemed better at it, seemed to be able to tell exactly what Sirius was thinking at any moment. Just like Mr. Potter. There was a mutual understanding between them, one that Regulus felt sorely missing between him and his brother in moments such as when he watched Sirius' jawline harden, sometimes at something Regulus had said, and sometimes just like that - a spark of a memory maybe or an angry thought. A cloud dragging across Sirius' features, dulling his eyes, and transforming him into someone else.
No, he couldn't understand Sirius forwards. He could never tell what Sirius was going to do, not in a logical way anyway.
He could try and understand him backwards. Why Sirius had done this or that. In a moment of closeness, Sirius would reveal his reasons. Though it almost always led back to this.
Because you're my brother.
And this sentence, it was a dead end.
Not because it wasn't true, but because Sirius wasn't like most big brothers. Regulus knew that. Of all the older siblings he knew, none of them came close to Sirius. Sirius, hovering over him, taking care of him, raising him. Some other older siblings didn't even like their younger siblings, thus it couldn't be a universal statement that what Sirius did for him was merely because it was his job as an older brother.
There had been a time when they hadn't been close and others might have thought that too, about them, but Regulus knew that Sirius had never found him annoying, or had treated him badly because he was younger and couldn't defend himself as well.
When Regulus thought about it, he realized that even though their relationship was different from how it had been before Sirius had gone to Hogwarts, there were parallels he couldn't deny. Even back at Grimmauld Place, Sirius had been awfully protective of him, always holding his hand, always worrying, sometimes to an extent that Regulus found almost suffocating. Still, it was better than being ignored. It was all he'd had - Sirius, his brother hen.
"What does that mean," Regulus had asked Sirius once. "Because I'm your brother? Bellatrix and Andromeda are sisters too."
That question had made Sirius angry.
So Regulus could never tell.
There was a layer of understanding he never reached. Every time he thought he could grasp it, it dissolved like smoke, forever elusive.
So it was hard to leave Dumbledore's office that day without a guarantee that he was ever going to see it again. Sirius had left the castle like he was running from something, escaping that horrible position he was in, delaying the decision. Dragging Regulus behind him like he was three years old and couldn't walk on his own.
And to never return to Hogwarts, that that was even a possibility Sirius was considering, Regulus hadn't wanted to realize that until now. Only when Sirius had said it, forcing the words out between clenched teeth - So you can't promise me that he'll be safe. Then I'm going to have to draw the consequences from this - It was like he had pulled a rug from under Regulus' feet.
Regulus had known that it would take a lot to convince Sirius to let him return to Slytherin. But Hogwarts? Hogwarts was his home.
"You have no right," he yelled as soon as the fireplace spat them into the Potters' living room together with a thick cloud of dust.
Sirius looked at him, an emotion Regulus didn't understand carving deep lines into his forehead. "I'm sorry," he croaked, his voice tight. "But you should have stayed home. This is exactly why I shouldn't have allowed you to stay."
"No," Regulus yelled, his bottom lip quivering. "You can't do that! You can't do that to me!"
Sirius' eyes hardened, his poker-face rising like a protective shield. "Keep your voice down." He side-glanced into the dining room where Mr. and Mrs. Potter were having breakfast, Mr. Potter folding the Daily Prophet in half, silently watching them through the archway that connected the two rooms.
Regulus felt tears burn in his eyes. "You can't do that," he said again. His knees were weak suddenly. He'd made a giant mistake. Telling Sirius like he had, it had been a mistake. He should have made a deal first so that he would be allowed to return to Hogwarts in exchange for the truth.
And Sirius stood there, looking at him with this expression in his eyes Regulus couldn't read and suddenly the boy only wanted to be alone - away from Sirius, away from the Potters, somewhere he was alone and could collect his thoughts. He turned in towards the stairs, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand as soon as he'd turned his back to Sirius.
Sirius didn't follow him for a long time.
When he finally came upstairs, he wordlessly sat down on Regulus' bed, pushed the boy a little to the side, and then lay down next to him.
At first, Regulus wanted to protest, but he was cut short when Sirius tugged him towards himself, then wrapped his strong arms around him.
Regulus swallowed hard. He wanted to push Sirius away, he really did. But he couldn't. He couldn't push him away, not anymore. Not after he'd spent that night on the stone floor at Lestrange manor with the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, the only thought keeping him from resigning to absolute despair that of his brother, how Sirius would take him into his arms and tell him that everything was going to be okay. That he'd protect him, that he was safe with him. His presence singing him to peace.
Fingers in his hair now, gently stroking. Familiar gray eyes watching him with so much compassion. There were worse things than this, Regulus knew that.
"Please don't take this from me, not this" Regulus whispered.
"I don't want to," Sirius said softly. "Merlin, Reggie, I'd do anything if it meant that you could return to Hogwarts."
"You just have to say yes."
Silence.
"I can't," Sirius said. "I can't because you're my brother. You're my brother, Reggie. Don't you see?"
Regulus shook his head. No, he didn't see what Sirius was talking about.
Sirius took his hand, intertwined their fingers. "We're two sides of the same coin, Reggie. See?" Sirius closed his fingers around Regulus'. "So what am I supposed to do?"
"Allow me to go," Regulus said.
"No, that's what we want. But how, how are we going to do this?"
"Is it because of what I told you yesterday?"
Sirius shook his head.
"Why then? I promise I'll do as you say. I promise I'll -"
"Reggie, if anything happened to you, I couldn't take it."
"But Hogwarts is safe," Regulus argued. "It's just that when I leave the castle grounds, it's dangerous. But at Hogwarts, nothing bad ever happens there!"
But Sirius was just lying there, on his back, glancing up at the ceiling, running his right hand through Regulus' hair while the fingers of his right hand tightened around Regulus'.
Regulus studied his brother's hand. It was bigger than his, stronger, the fingers longer, the shape of Sirius' nails perfect ovals with elegant half-moons sitting at the base of every single one of them. Regulus inspected his own fingernails. They weren't nearly as healthy as Sirius', they'd been chewed on for years, and his cuticles were dry and sore.
"I'm afraid," Sirius said suddenly, turning his head away.
Regulus looked at him with wide eyes, holding his breath, not moving an inch as he instantly sensed that this moment was incredibly rare and fragile, and he feared that even the slightest movement might be enough to shatter it.
"I'm so very afraid that I can't sleep at night," Sirius continued, his voice rough like sandpaper. "It's always there, beneath my skin. That fear. Like a constant ache. And there's nothing I can do about it."
"What are you afraid of?" Regulus asked, turning his head, pressing his cheek against Sirius' chest.
Again, Sirius was silent for a very long time. Regulus listened to his brother's breathing, his steady heartbeat next to his ear, and it was like he was on a boat, the waves calming him, and even though he knew a storm could rise as quickly as the wind could turn, his boat would carry him safely. Sirius being afraid, that was a strange thought. Regulus was sure his boat would never sink - that was impossible.
"That I'm not good enough," Sirius said eventually, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Good enough for what?"
But Sirius didn't respond to that. Regulus waited at first, patiently, and then - albeit a little disappointed - let it go. Instead, he simply looked at Sirius, took him in, tried to read him, a book written in a different language. The black stubble that grew on Sirius' face made him look older, like a grown man. He hadn't shaved for a week at least. Regulus wanted him to, for some reason. It was like it created a second layer around Sirius - masculinity, was that it? He imagined the blade scraping along his brother's skin, the scratching sound of the stubbles being planed off, and that layer Sirius had added to his self following the black stubble down the drain.
James left for Hogwarts that same evening.
Regulus certainly didn't miss him, but he noticed that Sirius did. And Sirius spent a lot of his time with Mr. Potter now, the two of them talking quietly in the living room or sometimes even in Mr. Potter's study. Regulus watched this from the distance, and at times he felt the urge to eavesdrop on them. It was a mix of curiosity of boredom that he could resist, however. At least when they were talking in Mr. Potter's study. It wasn't like Sirius was hiding anything from him after all, not really. Or maybe Regulus' hesitant questions hadn't prodded deep enough to reveal a more secretive side of his brother. It's all about protection, Sirius had explained. To be safe. He'd left it at that. Sometimes, Regulus had the chance to listen in a little, which was mostly in the afternoons when it was getting dark and frosty outside and the family was drawn to the warmth the fireplace in the living room spread in the ground floor. He was sitting at the table in the dining room just like he did most afternoons then, a chess board between him and Mrs. Potter, who was confidently leaning back, knitting things in her lap and a challenging half-smile on her lips as she watched him give his best, wreck his brain to find a way to beat her, and still lose in the end - every time.
That was when he overheard Mr. Potter and Sirius talk in the living room, their voices muffled by a lively piano piece playing in the background. Several spell books, dusty old diaries, and a yellowed map of the house piled up the coffee table between the two men.
They were talking wards. Regulus thought it was a rather interesting topic as it concerned a complex and tediously precise mechanism of spells that had to mesh as smoothly the gears of a clock in order to not leave any loopholes. However, in order to create additional wards around the house, Mr. Potter and Sirius had to get an overview of what older wards had already been installed around the house first so their magic wouldn't counteract the others'. And going through the previous house owners' diaries and notebooks, skimming hundreds of pages a day, that had to be awfully boring. Regulus had volunteered to help at one point but secretly been glad that Sirius had instantly declined. He wasn't keen on doing research.
Warding the house however made a lot of sense in the light of the most recent events. Bellatrix and her Death Eater friends must have declared open season on him and Sirius by now, maybe even James. Regulus had no doubts about that. And this automatically made the Potters and their house the new focus of the Death Eaters' attention. Regulus was positive that they were under constant surveillance, so much so that they could just as well shine a big spotlight on the Potters' front door.
He hadn't wanted this. Not for Sirius, not for the Potters. They didn't deserve to live in fear. It was all Regulus' fault, and that thought weighed him down like a heavy brick lying in his stomach, despite what Sirius said and no matter how many times the Potters had assured him that it was not his fault.
Because he knew it was.
And Regulus also knew exactly what the Death Eaters were capable of. The blood on his hands, still there, like an invisible stain. No matter how many times Sirius assured him that he'd had no choice. It might have been easier to take if Sirius had lost it, taken his belt to him, and whipped the skin off his legs. Forgiveness felt like a debt not paid. Regulus knew he was going to have to live with this, would have to deal with the guilt in his stomach. Last night, he'd lain in his bed, Sirius tucking him into bed, and suddenly, his sadness had crushed him. His body felt leaden all of a sudden and sorrow closed up his throat.
"What's the matter?" Sirius had asked, his voice like velvet - pure, loving patience.
"I'm sorry," Regulus had whimpered. I'm sorry for making you worry all the time. I'm sorry for putting you in danger. I'm sorry I didn't trust you sooner.
Sirius had understood immediately. The concern in his expression softened to a gentle sadness. "You're so very forgiven," he'd said, then sat down next to Regulus.
"I know." That made it even worse.
"For what are you sorry then?"
Regulus was sorry for making Sirius forgive him over and over again. Forgiveness, it was a wonderful thing, but it was hard to accept sometimes, especially when the memories returned shortly before going to sleep. "I don't know how to stop feeling guilty."
Sirius had run his right hand along the side of Regulus' face."In a dark room, you can't take the darkness away, but you can put light in it," he'd said.
"It's your turn," Mrs. Potter reminded him, pulling Regulus out of his thoughts. She picked up her knitting things, continued working on a pair of bright yellow socks.
"Why don't you use magic?" Regulus asked curiously. "It would be much faster that way."
"I like using my hands," Mrs. Potter smiled. "It's almost cathartic in a way. It clears my mind and helps me think."
Regulus looked back at the chessboard. The pieces were getting impatient, and one bishop was complaining already, uneasily looking around as he was being threatened from two sides.
Regulus sighed and chose to save him by sacrificing a pawn to Mrs. Potter's ruthless white rook.
"You give them up so easily," Mrs. Potter said. She wandlessly summoned a few sugar cubes. They whizzed through the air and plopped into the cup of tea in front of her - she liked her tea almost sickeningly sweet. "Sometimes a single pawn can change the outcome of the game. Don't underestimate their importance."
"Their sole purpose is to be sacrificed," Regulus responded, slouching in his chair. "Like I'd save the pawn and sacrifice my bishop. That'd be stupid."
"But a pawn who reaches the eighth square can turn into a queen."
Regulus blew out his cheeks. Like any of his pawns were ever going to make it that far. Not with an opponent as strong as Mrs. Potter. "Only in my dreams."
Mrs. Potter smiled lightly. "Maybe you should chase your dreams until you catch them then."
Regulus wanted to laugh at that. He was never going to promote any of his pawns, not in a game against Mrs. Potter. He was lucky to survive the first twenty minutes of the game. "There's no hope for me. Like you'd ever let me promote a pawn anyway. It's too… obvious."
Mrs. Potter lowered her knitting things. "It's not about what I let you do."
Regulus sighed. "If you say so." He was already loosing again, even though the game had started out surprisingly well today.
He tapped his foot against the table leg, glanced into the living room. Mr. Potter had disappeared upstairs and Sirius sat in the armchair next to the fireplace, a heavy spell book resting in his lap, but his eyes were closed and his head tilted to the side. He'd fallen asleep. Regulus smiled.
Mrs. Potter had followed his gaze and now her gaze lovingly lingered upon Sirius. "If he wasn't eighteen I'd put him down for a nap."
Regulus snickered at that. Sirius, so independent, always having taken care of himself as long as Regulus could remember, and a head taller than Mrs. Potter, but she still wanted to put him down for a nap like a baby.
"He's one special young man, your brother," Mrs. Potter continued, eyes crinkling. "A few summers ago, when we were at the cottage, he was so determined to succeed in catching a fish with his bare hands, he lay in the shallow water for hours and hours, not moving a finger, barely even blinking."
Regulus grinned. "Did he get one?"
"Of course. He and James put it on the grill for dinner." She smiled. "He makes no compromises, that boy. He begins something he's passionate about, he'll finish it too. He's very different from James in that way."
Regulus chewed on his bottom lip, regarded his older brother. Sirius, always so focused. Even when sleeping, he looked restless. "A compromise now and then wouldn't hurt him."
Mrs. Potter was looking at Regulus now. "Believe me when I say this: he tries."-
"I know he does."
"Sometimes we try and we fail. Compromising isn't easy. But Sirius does very his best."
Regulus didn't respond. Is it too much then to ask him to try a little harder? Because I believe that there's still room for more. "How was he when he came here?" he asked instead. "As a first year. How was he?"
Mrs. Potter took in a deep breath. "Broken," he said quietly. "Very lost."
To hear that hurt, but Regulus appreciated her honesty. "Sometimes I wonder how things might have been if he had been in Slytherin," Regulus confessed. The whole idea was kind of laughable because Sirius was a Gryffindor through and through. But sometimes, Regulus couldn't help but wonder. "Would we still be here today? What do you think?"
"Yes," Mrs. Potter said after a short moment of contemplation. "I believe the answer is a very definite yes. Our houses don't define who we are, after all."
"But they wouldn't have been friends then, James and Sirius."
"Why not?"
Regulus blinked. What an odd question. "Because a Gryffindor and a Slytherin as friends, that's just not normal. I don't think they would've liked each other."
"Oh, I think you would be surprised. Even if Sirius had been sorted into Slytherin, he'd still be Sirius. He would still stand up for what he believes is right. I'm pretty sure Sirius and James would've been able to overcome any initial prejudices quickly."
Regulus swallowed. "You don't think Sirius would've become a Death Eater as Father and Mother wanted him to?"
"Under no circumstances, no." Her tone was light but at the same time, she observed his every move.
"I would be one already if it wasn't for Sirius," Regulus admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't know why he felt compelled to tell Mrs. Potter this, but he had the feeling that he wanted to be honest with her, wanted to get this out. "I'd be just like Barty. Or Evan."
She looked at him compassionately now. "Just like I am positive that Sirius would have found his way here, in the end, I believe that you would have too, even without him. For some, the path is clearly visible, others have to fight their way through a labyrinth. But you would have found your way out, sooner or later."
"So you think it's destiny that we're here? Like, it was all predetermined somehow?"
She smiled, gave a half-shrug. "If you want to put it that way, yes. Even though I don't believe I would have been able to read that in your tea leaves."
Mr. Potter entered the living room through the hallway. He took the book from Sirius' lap and spread out a blanket over him. Then he joined his wife and Regulus in the dining room. "Enough for today," he said in a low voice.
"Did you make any progress?" Mrs. Potter questioned.
"Well, we know more than we did before. We have no wards against foreign house elf magic installed yet. Other than that, we haven't got very far."
Mrs. Potter sighed. "Something at least."
Mr. Potter cast a glance at the chess board, a grin suddenly manifesting on his lips at the sight of Regulus' king, cornered and left with only a single bishop to protect him. "Mind out son, she's a dirty player. Absolutely ruthless. And a cheater too - most likely, though not a confirmed one yet as she's too good at it to get caught."
Mrs. Potter playfully rolled her eyes. "And you're a sore loser."
Sirius stayed back home for a few more days. It was Wednesday when Mrs. Potter brought it up during lunch.
"You should resume classes too, Sirius," she said.
And Sirius side-glanced at Regulus. Their eyes met. Sirius knew exactly what Regulus was thinking, it didn't have to be said. "Maybe I should."
"Maybe," Regulus mouthed to himself, sneering. It didn't escape Sirius' attention.
"But only for the day," Sirius said quickly. He'd thought about this even though he hadn't brought it up yet. "Only until classes are over. Then I'll return home."
"This is a good idea," Mr. Potter agreed from across the table. "You have to think of your exams. They may seem far away now, but you'd be surprised how quickly time can go by. Especially during your last year."
"I have my O.W.L.s this year too," Regulus muttered.
"This is why Sirius should make arrangements for you to be taught at home in the meantime when you're still not well enough to return to Hogwarts," Mrs. Potter said. "We can't have you get too comfortable, can we?" She smiled a bit.
"That's an excellent idea," Mr. Potter said. "Even though you're quite a good student, Regulus, we don't want you to lag behind your classmates. Depending on the subject, Sirius, Mrs. Potter, or I could give you private lessons."
Regulus wasn't exactly keen on that but he didn't let it show. Instead, he focused his attention on Sirius. "So it's okay for you to return to Hogwarts? Why not for me?"
"Because you need to get better first."
"I'm fine."
Sirius exchanged a look with the Potters. "No, you're not. Anyway, there's no point in having this discussion until Madam Pomfrey says it's okay for you to do magic again. You're still on medication, and heavy one at that."
Regulus huffed. He pushed his plate away. "I'm not hungry anymore. May I get up?"
Sirius cast a glance at Regulus' plate. The Potters - and that meant Mrs. Potter in particular - valued table manners, he'd learned that pretty quickly. And he knew it would do Reg no harm to pay some more attention to his manners. "Finish what's on your plate first."
"I don't like broccoli."
"Vegetables are good for your health," Mrs. Potter said in a no-nonsense tone.
Reluctantly, Regulus picked up his fork again. He pushed the broccoli from the right side of the plate to the left, chose the smallest one and tried it. He grimaced. "Mother and Father never made me eat broccoli," he muttered.
There was a short, stunned silence after that. Sirius was staring at his hands, his jawline hardening. But he said nothing.
"Maybe arrangements could be made," Mr. Potter began slowly, "for Regulus to at least attend the classes most important for his O.W.L.s?"
"No," Sirius said. "He's not allowed to do magic yet."
"Simply attending classes, however, for the sole purpose of taking notes -"
"No," Sirius interrupted Mr. Potter. He had his elbows on the table and folded his hands tightly. "And this is my last word on this topic."
"Do you want me to fall behind on my studies? That I won't be able to keep up with my classmates?" Regulus asked sharply. "Maybe you want me to fail my O.W.L.s. Just because you're mad at me, for whatever reason." The moment those words left Regulus' mouth, he looked like he wanted to take them back.
"Bullocks. Though you can count on me getting mad if you don't drop it immediately," Sirius responded, his voice dropping to a dangerously low level.
Mrs. Potter cleared her throat. "I'm sorry if we are interfering with your way of dealing with this whole issue, Sirius," she said, "but delaying a decision that has to be made sooner or later doesn't help. I'm sure Fleamont agrees with me." Her husband nodded, and she continued. "Your brother deserves to know what to expect in the future. It will certainly make things easier on him than being kept in suspense does."
Sirius ran a hand over his face. "You're right," he said to her, then turned to his little brother. "I'm sorry, Reg. It's just that… I need some more time. Give me a few more days, okay? I just gotta be sure it's the right decision. Please."
Regulus didn't lift his eyes. "You already had a few more days."
Sirius leaned back in his chair. He looked at his little brother. Regulus was unhappily playing with his food. Sirius sighed, then flicked his wand. Broccoli wasn't exactly his favorite food either, but that was okay. His spoon and his fork traveled to Regulus' plate, then each took a big stalk of broccoli with them and carried it over to Sirius' plate, leaving a greasy trail behind them. The pepper and salt shakers were already hurrying into his direction. Regulus looked up then, his face lighting up a little.
"You eat the small ones you got left and I take the big ones, deal?"
"Deal," Regulus said. He only had two small broccoli left. That seemed manageable.
Mrs. Potter felt compelled to make a disapproving sound, even though she couldn't hide the amusement glinting in her eyes.
"We'll eat what's on our plates, promise," Sirius said with a grin.
"How about you return to Hogwarts for the rest of the week, and then come to a decision?" Mr. Potter suggested. "I could talk to Professor Dumbledore again. There must be ways to ensure Regulus' safety while still allowing him to continue his classes. It can't be, after all, that a student has to leave permanently because Hogwarts is too dangerous."
Regulus swallowed his last mouthful of broccoli. "It's not as dangerous for me as you all think anyway," he muttered.
Mrs. Potter sighed. "Sometimes, when things are very complicated, you should trust the adults around you to know what's best for you."
Sirius grimaced. Mrs. Potter rarely minced her words. Still, he could basically feel the frown settling on Regulus' face at the wording she had used.
"And sometimes, when adults are too lazy to explain themselves, they like to call things too complicated," Regulus responded brazenly.
There was a sharp intake of breath from Sirius. "Regulus, that was rude! Apologize!"
Regulus uneasily shifted on his chair. "I'm sorry, Ma'am," he said, eyes downcast. Mrs. Potter's face softened at that, but Regulus continued, his own expression tightening as he spoke. "I shouldn't have been rude. However, that doesn't change the fact that no one ever tries to explain to me exactly why you think it's so dangerous at Hogwarts. All the arguments you've brought up so far are weak and easily refutable if you ask me."
Sirius felt his temper rise. Now he regretted having relieved his brother of his broccoli. "Well, you're not being asked!"
"But I should," Regulus said. "I should, and you know it. That's why you won't give me any concrete answers. I'm fifteen, not five. I should be allowed to at least argue my case and not be told to shut up all the time."
"If I only knew you don't hide anything else," Sirius exclaimed hotly. "Tell me then, who is a Death Eater? Give me names so they can be expelled. Give me concrete facts. Then I may be able to give you answers too!"
Regulus stared at him. "No," he said eventually, pressed it out between his clenched teeth.
"Fine," Sirius growled. He pushed his chair back, feeling incredibly hurt and angry at the same time. "Go to your room."
Regulus stayed where he was. "No," he said again, forcing his voice to remain calm. "I'm not going up there only so you can yell at me."
Sirius felt his blood boil at what he perceived to be sheer disobedience. "I'm gonna start counting," he threatened.
Regulus swallowed hard. "No. I do have rights too. Like the right to voice my opinion. Or the right to go to school to get an education. And you can't take this from me without any explanation whatsoever."
"I explained it already," Sirius all but yelled, little speckles of spit flying out of his mouth. "It's not safe! Reg, you almost DIED! What else has to happen in order for you to understand -"
"Sirius," Mr. Potter interrupted his son calmly, "why don't you lower your voice and then take a seat, please."
Sirius stood there, stared at him.
"I want to understand," Regulus said softly. "I really want to. But I can't if you're not willing to talk to me. So please don't yell because of it. Please."
Sirius sank back down on his chair, drawing in a sharp breath at the sudden kindness in Regulus' voice. His brother's pleading expression, so earnest in his big, gray eyes, completely took the wind out of Sirius' sails. To listen - it was harder than he had thought it would be. He looked from Regulus to Mr. Potter, then to Mrs. Potter, and finally back to his little brother. They were all calm and collected, and Sirius felt his face burn in shame at how he had acted. The fear consuming him, the rage, it was a dangerous thing.
He wasn't capable of doing this. He couldn't make this decision. There was nothing to explain, not really. Regulus was right - he didn't have any arguments that the boy couldn't easily refute. His brother could talk circles around him, but Sirius knew that no amount of reasoning was going to convince him of something he didn't truly believe in. Now, if he could make Reg understand without simultaneously having to argue his point, he would do so immediately. But all he could see were countless, never-ending discussions that aimed at clouding his thoughts and deterred him from coming to a decision instead of supporting it.
"You promised that you were going to be honest with me too," Regulus said, reaching for Sirius' hand. "We're supposed to be confidants, right?"
"Reggie…" The boy was looking at him with a sadness that made Sirius' heart constrict. Sirius looked at Mr. Potter for help. The man met his gaze but didn't say a word; he simply nodded.
"Just give me an answer I can understand, Siri. What is this danger you're so afraid of?"
He was afraid of Regulus returning and realizing that nothing was going to be like before. All that was left of the Hogwarts they knew was a place consisting of all the things Sirius wanted to protect his brother from - Slytherin, Death Eaters, Regulus' own friends. It would hurt Regulus badly to return and see that he was a pariah now and he could never truly go back to the Hogwarts he remembered. But how was Sirius going to tell him? I'm afraid they'll hurt you? It wasn't enough. He was talking physical injury of course, but emotional one as well. He imagined how it would be for Reg having to face Barty. Or Severus. All those people who had betrayed him. The desperate rage in Sirius' stomach, enfolding even more at that thought.
And to not lose his trust in the world and its people, that was hard - especially because Reg had done nothing wrong, he'd simply tried to protect the ones he loved.
Sirius knew exactly how much that hurt. He'd gone through the same pain. Their parents, their cold glances, their harsh words, and Sirius, a first year, having realized too late that his choices had made him an orphan, that he had no home to return to - not really. Only a carcass. And then, twelve years old, at the end of his first year, sitting in the Hogwarts Express back to London with his friends, wrapped in that cloud of comfort that he was so naively taking for granted now, not knowing that his father's fist was only hours away from crashing against his cheek and that the minute hand really was only counting down the minutes until he would shove his little brother away, breaking the one person he loved the most.
Sirius didn't think that Regulus realized that yet, how much things were never going to be the same. Reg still believed that everything would be fine, that the Hogwarts he knew was still waiting for him. But he couldn't go home because it wasn't there anymore. That dream was going to burst like a bubble as soon as he set a foot in the Great Hall, and the betrayal was going to tear him apart.
"I know you," Sirius said eventually, his voice hurting in his throat, struggling to put his feelings into words. "Please, Reg… Reggie. I can't bear the thought of them hurting you even more. And going back would mean to face those people who betrayed you on a daily basis. Putting aside the fact that they might try and hurt you again, nothing is going to be the way it used to. I don't want you to… experience this loss." I don't want the blade that hurt you to become YOU as has happened to me.
Regulus looked at him. His face seemed older suddenly and it was as if he was saying look, my eyes are not your eyes.
"So you'll be the one to take it all away from me, to protect me?" Regulus questioned. "How am I losing less like this?"
tbc...
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's still reading. If you got any ideas for more one-shots (they can be similar to the two I already published or completely different) please let me know via pm or my tumblr:) A particularly huge thank you goes to the guest reviewers - I wish I could respond to you individually to let you know just how much your reviews mean to me. Thank you Marauders, Anonymous Reader, samaran, Ariana, Kam, and the other nameless anonymous reviewers. I really appreciate your reviews so much!