A/N: Disclaimer: I kept two scenes pretty close to PoA description-wise so you might recognize some details but they are, of course, adapted to fit this universe. Anyway. Thanks to everyone who's still reading, despite the long break. I appreciate your support so much - this goes especially to my lovely guest reviewers who I can't thank in private. Enjoy.

It was past midnight, and Sirius was sitting in the drawing room, the last one still not in bed. From his right came the ticking of the old grandfather clock. It was a bright night, the moon was almost full. Blue moonlight was reflecting off the clock's glass panel, the long pendulum flashing silver as it swung back and forth. Now and then, Sirius listened for footsteps, still hopeful. Usually, Harry would come down around this time, after waking up from his first nightmare.

This night, Sirius remained alone.

He had felt a peculiar heaviness in his chest since he had punished the child. Perhaps he had hoped that Harry joining him in the drawing room, seeking his comfort after a nightmare, would take it away.

Harry. James' son.

Sirius remembered how he had held the child in his arms, mere hours after his birth, a proud godfather. Harry, a child of the sun, soft and rosy. And when Harry had begun to crawl around and finally take his first steps, he had always tried to get to Sirius. "He's following you around like a little puppy," James would say. He hadn't sounded the least bit jealous saying this. If James had only known his fate, maybe then he would have been jealous, considering how many years Sirius got to spend with Harry and how little time James had been granted.

After that year of darkness in Azkaban, Harry had been so tiny and thin, fragile like a bundle of bones. How he had clung to Regulus, his emerald eyes muted and watery, suspicious. Sirius had had to work hard to gain Harry's trust back because he, too, had disappeared for a year, had abandoned the child, albeit involuntarily.

Harry, nobody's son, nobody's godson.

How Harry had stared at him during their first days at Grimmauld Place, this gaunt stranger with his sunken cheeks, long, shaggy hair, and his skin so pale and rough like sandpaper. Sirius knew how scary he must have seemed; he himself was spooked every time he caught his reflection in a mirror.

And yet, after some time, the sunlight had returned to Harry's eyes.

Harry. Sirius's child now, and Regulus's. From that time on, Harry had looked at Sirius like he were some sort of superhero, had listened like his words were made of gold.

Later, Harry was five or six years old, squealing with excitement, his small hands holding tightly onto Sirius's leather jacket as Sirius flew the motorbike across the rooftops of London at night. Harry had trusted Sirius completely then, even when Sirius flew them on the top of the NatWest Tower. Sitting in the glow of red aircraft warning lights, they watched the city from high above, the streets always busy, but from above, the cars looked like toys, almost fake.

It was nights like this when Sirius told Harry all about Hogwarts and the adventures James and he had gotten into while looking up at a night sky adorned with a web of stars. Harry never got tired of listening to the same stories over and over again. He loved hearing about James, and Sirius shared years worth of memories with Harry, years of having James as a friend, as a brother. James, like a mythical creature, morphing from father to brother in Harry's imagination, ageless. A beautiful memory, so strong that it seemed invincible.

Sitting alone in the drawing room, Sirius wondered when he and Harry had last spent time together like this; when Sirius' stories had not yet felt like half-truths and Harry's questions, even when coming from a place of honest curiosity, hadn't yet felt like arrows piercing his skin. It wasn't too long ago, but it felt like an eternity.

Ever since he had escaped out of Azkaban, Peter's shadow was looming above all of it. Sirius had become more careful with his stories, painfully aware of the linden leaf on James' back. He knew that he had to hide it from Harry's sight. Peter's shadow on all these years, Sirius didn't want to risk turning the memory of James bitter.

Pale morning sunlight filtered through the murky kitchen windows. A thin yellow pancake was sizzling in a pan, and Sirius poked its edge with a rubber spatula before deciding to give it another minute.

"Hey, don't you dare," Sirius said when, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Regulus sneaking up on him and bending over to bring his nose up to the plate of pancakes which sat on the messy countertop to Sirius' left.

"They're not for you, greedy-guts."

"For Harry?" Regulus' grin slipped, and he hesitated before saying, "are you two… okay?"

Sirius' response came quick. "Sure. It's all fine, we just… I just wanted…" he shrugged, "you know. And today's his last day. So I thought I'd make his favorite breakfast."

A moment of silence. Regulus clapped Sirius' shoulder. "I guess if that's all there is to it, you can spare your poor brother a single one. I'm starving." He opened the cupboard above his head, took out a silver-rimmed plate. Sirius smiled to himself.

"All right, you can have one."

"How generous."

"But later."

Regulus set his plate on the countertop. His eyes were fixed on the pancakes, and he licked his lips. "How much later?"

"When Harry wakes up."

"But they'll be cold." A frown puckered the skin between Regulus' eyebrows.

"Hmm, you really must be starving if you can still afford to be so picky."

Regulus tsked. There were at least ten pancakes piled up on the plate next to the stove. One less wouldn't make a difference. "Let's say I'll try one. To test the quality."

He reached for one of the pancakes but jumped back when Sirius swung his spatula at him.

"Woah! That's attempted assault!"

Sirius chuckled. "Not if I'm simply trying to protect what's mine from thieves."

"Good morning, pup," Sirius said as he lowered a tray next to Harry's bed. He reached out and gently brushed Harry's hair from his forehead. The boy scrunched up his face before yawning and stretching his arms above his head. He stilled and opened his eyes when the sweet scent of pancakes hit his nose.

Sirius smiled. He took a seat on the bed. Bright sunlight was playing across the boy's colorful cotton sheets. "It's your last day at home, and I thought… anyway, I thought we'd make it a nice one."

Harry sat up on his elbow, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before reaching for his glasses. "Don't you have to go to work?"

"They'll survive without me for a day. And I also took tomorrow morning off, so, until you leave, I'm all yours."

"That means that they don't have any new leads on Pettigrew?"

Sirius bit the inside of his cheek. He did not at all feel like talking about Peter, and especially not with Harry. "We do have new leads but also old ones. We're investigating every single one of them. It just takes time." He jerked his head at the pancakes. "Don't let them get cold."

Harry licked his lips. He pushed his covers back and sat up, crossed his legs, and tried the first pancake while Sirius poured him a glass of orange juice, eyes soft as they rested on the boy.

"Do you like them?"

Harry nodded, his mouth full, then chewed and swallowed, grinning. "They're fantastic. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Sirius said softly. "Harry… pup… I was thinking. Maybe I could come by sometimes on the weekends. Or me and Reg both. We could take you to Hogsmeade. Zonko's Joke Shop is brilliant. James and I used to stack up on some of their items."

Harry tilted his head to the side. "Not during the Hogsmeade weekends, though, right?"

Sirius shrugged. He rolled one of the pancakes up and took a bite. "Well…"

"None of the others will be there with their parents."

Sirius took his time chewing and swallowing. When Harry's gaze did not lose any of its intensity, he responded, "I thought it would be better than staying at the castle."

Harry frowned.

Regulus entered the room. He stopped when he saw the pancakes and Sirius, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You sack of shit," Regulus said, "you started without me!"

Sirius grinned in a way that made him look much younger than he was. "I thought you were… working on something. Or you had fallen asleep on the toilet."

Regulus gave him a friendly shove before picking up a pancake, wandering around the bed, and sitting on Harry's other side.

Sirius looked back at Harry. It didn't escape his attention that Harry had relaxed since Regulus had entered the room. With Reg here, it felt like an average day, not like the last day of the summer, not like Sirius was trying to travel back in time and make up for all the summer days he had missed since July.

"He didn't seem all too excited about the idea of us visiting him," Sirius said. He looked thoughtful, taking another bite from a half-eaten peach while leaning against the back of the sofa on which Regulus was sitting. The juice was dripping down his slender fingers, and when he noticed the spots this created on the pale cushions, he turned his hand and held it at an angle.

"He's a teenager now," Regulus said absentmindedly. His eyes narrowed as he skimmed through another article in the Annual Review of Applied Astrology. "You have to get used to that."

"Yeah, but I expected him to jump at the opportunity to go to Hogsmeade. It's better than having to stay back at Hogwarts during the Hogsmeade weekends."

Regulus hummed. "Imagine how James would have reacted if Mr. Potter had insisted on visiting him over the Hogsmeade weekends."

Sirius chuckled. "Okay, if you put it like that… still, I thought we were cool parents. Or at least I thought I was."

Regulus looked up from his reading and was surprised how serious Sirius looked, not a trace of a chuckle. "Don't be ridiculous. As far as coolness is concerned, you're reaching rock bottom." Regulus shook his head at his brother. Sirius had to be delusional, thinking that he was still cool.

Sirius looked genuinely worried all of a sudden. "But… I'm not embarrassing, am I? You'd tell me if I were."

"I've been telling you for nearly twenty years now."

"Ouch," Sirius commented.

"You need to take a chill pill."

"A what?" Stifled laughter tumbled from Sirius' lips.

"A chill pill, it's what the teens say now. You hear it everywhere."

"I see, you're the expert." Sirius's teeth scraped against the peach pit before he set it down on the coffee table and wiped his fingers, sticky with peach juice, on his trousers.

There was a brief silence between them, only the scratching sound of Regulus' quill, underlining book references. Sirius stared at the overripe bananas in the fruit bowl next to Regulus. They were covered in age spots. He twisted his arm back, poked one of them with his fingertip. "You still gonna eat these?"

"Is that a dare?"

Sirius winked at him. "We could make it one."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Then, no."

Silence again but a loud one.

Sirius took a deep breath. "Reg?"

"Hmm?" There was something in Sirius' voice that made Regulus pause. His quill was hovering half an inch above the paper, a thin droplet of ink waiting at its tip.

Sirius scratched the back of his neck. "Do you… do you think that one day he'll understand?"

Regulus thought that Sirius couldn't be vaguer if he tried. "Understand what?"

Sirius sighed. "Why some things have to be the way they are."

Ah. That. There was so much Harry didn't know, so much that he couldn't understand yet. He was left with a thousand random puzzle pieces and not even a hint of the picture he was supposed to put together."If you allow it."

Sirius hummed. His heel was tapping against the back of the sofa, a dull, thudding sound.

"Spit it out already," Regulus said after a minute.

Sirius shuffled around the sofa and dropped into the armchair next to the fireplace. "I don't want to be uncool," he admitted softly.

Regulus released a soft sigh. "Merlin… are you serious right now?" The fragility within that statement was nearly laughable.

Sirius was not looking at Regulus, nor did he jump at the opportunity to make his favorite pun. Instead, he was staring out of the window, rectangular pieces of the azure sky reflecting between his dark eyelashes. "When James became a teenager, he and Mr. Potter, they didn't always get along so well. Sure, they loved each other, but they were constantly fighting. And now that Harry is growing up, I don't want us to become like that."

That was a rare thing for Sirius to say because, most days, James and Mr. Potter were placed on a pedestal so high they could do no wrong. Yet, Regulus remembered the scenes Sirius was referring to. James, provoking his father, being insufferable at times, only occasionally to make a point. James' snide comments, how he rolled his eyes at everything Mr. Potter said, how he wore his sneer like a spiked metal choker. James had treated Regulus in a similar manner, taunting him, testing him like he wanted to know what he was made of. But Regulus did not see any of that in Harry. "Harry isn't James, Sirius. And you're not Mr. Potter."

Sirius fiddled with the sterling silver ring, which fit snugly around his thumb, twisting it absentmindedly. "But remember me and you? We fought like cats and dogs as well."

Regulus shrugged. "I guess. But that's not always a bad thing. Sometimes you have to argue to work through something. Though maybe we wouldn't have argued as much if you weren't so bloody stubborn."

"If you weren't, you would've saved your behind a shitload of trouble," Sirius responded, a smile crossing his tan face, fine wrinkles radiating from his gray eyes.

Regulus felt the corners of his mouth bending down, and he forced himself to retain a neutral expression. After that comment, he felt far less willing to jump over his shadow and bolster up Sirius's confidence. "Perhaps if you had had any clue what you were doing, things wouldn't have escalated so easily," he said coldly.

Sirius' eyebrows quirked up. "All right, calm down. I didn't mean that as an attack on you."

Regulus huffed. "I didn't realize it was meant as a joke. Makes me wonder what's the butt of it - me or your parenting."

Sirius straightened up. He rested his elbows on his knees, opening his palms and turning them upwards like he wanted to explain himself, but his palms were empty and did not contain any explanations. "Not you, Reggie. Please forget what I said, I was… I was talking rubbish."

"You know how I hate it when you talk like that. Things weren't simple then, and they aren't simple now with Harry."

Sirius sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

Regulus picked up his quill once more, lowering his eyes, and directing his focus back on the article he had been reading. He found the text much less accessible all of a sudden. He heard Sirius getting up and then the motionless stillness of him simply standing there.

For a few seconds, the silence between them was like a paper-thin wall made of glass. Sirius held out his hands again.

"I didn't mean to say that things were simple. I know they just seem like that because everything is so far away from today's standpoint. Nowadays, I can't imagine not being able to talk openly with you, not being able to depend on you like I do now, I wouldn't even know what to do without it. And I hope that, one day, Harry will understand me and forgive me like you did and that we can be the closest of friends, just like you and I are."

Regulus quietly opened the door to Harry's room. From downstairs, he heard Sirius yelling, "AAAah watch out -", which was followed by the sound of an explosion. Sirius was laughing and Harry chimed in. They were playing Exploding Snap in Sirius's room and had begun their second game a minute ago.

Regulus tiptoed into Harry's room. It looked like a mess. Harry's suitcase lay open on the floor, clothes, and books piled up on the bed. Harry's new school books, which they had eventually ordered from Flourish and Blotts, were still wrapped in tan-colored kraft paper. One large package, which Regulus suspected to contain the Monster Book of Monsters, was growling softly. Sirius had advised Harry to keep it wrapped up until right before Hagrid's class.

Hedwig ruffled her feathers when she spotted Regulus. The owl sensed that it was soon time to return to Hogwarts and the impeding train ride made her nervous. Regulus walked over to her, picked up a handful of roasted beetles from the cloudy plastic container Harry kept on his windowsill and refilled her food tray. Hedwig cooed happily.

Regulus looked over to Harry's desk. The boy had completed his homework over the summer and collected the dog-eared parchment pages on his desk. Regulus kept reminding Harry to number his pages, but when Regulus flipped through the top pages, he saw that the numbers stopped at page 3.

Hidden under Harry's homework, Regulus found what he had been looking for: the Hogsmeade permission slip. He picked the wrinkled piece of paper up and unfolded it carefully.

Regulus stared at his signature, his heart beating faster momentarily. Ever since he had signed it, he had wondered whether he had made the right decision. Sometimes he was sure that yes, it was right. Harry deserved the same treatment as his friends, and they couldn't keep him locked away forever. Other times, he worried that Sirius would end up being right and something could happen to Harry. Regulus would never forgive himself if that were the case.

After the events of the previous day, the scale had been tipped in favor of his growing uncertainty. Sirius had said no weeks ago, and Regulus did not want to betray his trust, even when he did not agree with him. Most importantly, though: Harry had lied to both of them. And while Regulus understood why it could be hard to be completely open with Sirius, he had thought that he and Harry had a different understanding. This understanding, this trust between them, was the reason why Regulus was so confident in taking Harry's side, even if it meant to go against Sirius. It was the reason why he did not believe in Sirius's method of discipline because the radical honesty between Harry and Regulus had rendered it superfluous. They were a team.

Regulus did not hear the footsteps approaching the room from the stairs until it was too late and Harry bounced into the room.

"We've finished this game, do you wanna join us for the next one?"

Regulus's head snapped up and he nearly dropped the permission slip.

Harry's expression changed when he realized what Regulus was holding. For a brief moment, he looked confused. "What are you doing?"

Regulus placed the permission slip to his left on the desk, crossed his arms in front of his chest. What could he say? He himself did not know what exactly he had been doing, and suddenly he felt like he had been caught. "What do you think?" he asked eventually.

Harry shifted from one foot to the other, unsure. "You're mad, aren't you?"

Regulus shook his head. "I'm not mad, Harry. I was simply wondering if, perhaps, my faith in you has been misplaced."

Harry winced visibly. "Why?"

"You know why." Regulus kept his voice calm and so even that it almost had a dangerous quality.

Harry's shoulders slumped. He swung back, quickly casting a glance down the corridor. Then he stepped into the room and closed the door behind his back. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to lie to you but I also didn't want to tell on Ron, I promised him not to. And Sirius would've told Mrs. Weasley."

Regulus frowned. He pushed Harry's essays to the side before lowering himself onto Harry's desk to be on the boy's eye level. "You don't know what Sirius would've done."

Harry lowered his eyes.

"And what about me?" Regulus asked. He couldn't help the hurt that was creeping into his voice at this. "How can I believe you when you won't tell me the truth?"

Harry blinked rapidly as he stared at his feet. He wrapped his arms around his torso. "I'm sorry." His bottom lip was trembling, and he bit it hard, causing it to turn eerily pale where his teeth scraped across his skin.

"Come here."

Harry plodded towards Regulus, keeping his head down until he stood in front of him and the finger Regulus placed underneath his chin made him look up.

Tears were brimming over Harry's lower lashes and Regulus felt his heart soften.

"I want to tell you but I can't," Harry admitted.

"You can't?" Regulus huffed. "I suggest that, if you want to keep that permission slip to Hogsmeade, you try that again."

Harry gave him a pleading look that had swayed Regulus so many times before. "I promise it wasn't anything dangerous. All we did was go into the cornfield, just not for dueling. I didn't even think you'd mind."

"Not good enough, kid."

Harry lowered his head again. "I promised Ron that I won't tell anybody. I'm sorry."

Regulus reached out again, his hand under Harry's chin, lifting the boy's head once again. The tears spilled over, and Harry raised his right hand to wipe at his cheeks, pushing his glasses up.

"You won't tell me, hmm? Even when it means that you won't get to go to Hogsmeade but Ron will?"

Harry glanced at the Hogsmeade permission slip, a sense of longing there. After a brief moment, he pulled his shoulders back. "I can't."

Regulus took a deep breath. Gryffindors and their terribly misguided sense of honor. He ran his thumb along the side of Harry's face. Teenage peach fuzz, so different from Sirius's wiry beard or Regulus's stubble at the end of the day. A peculiar feeling came over him, like the years were brushing past him like wind. The next time he saw Harry, the boy might have grown another inch, and two more before the next summer. "I understand," Regulus replied softly. "It's just… I have to be sure that you tell me the truth."

Harry's breath was hitching. "I'm sorry," he said, and took a step forwards, looking like he wanted to slip his arms around Regulus's middle and bury his face in his shoulder.

Before Regulus could respond, he heard footsteps on the stairs. Then, Sirius's voice, "Harry? Reg? Are we playing or what?"

Harry tensed up and took a quick step back, roughly wiping a hand across his eyes like his tears were evidence of a crime.

"Yes, one moment and we're coming," Regulus called, relieved to hear that the footsteps stopped at the sound of his voice.

"I'll prepare some biscuits in the meantime," Sirius called. "Who wants iced coffee? Reg? And Harry, cucumber lemonade?"

"Perfect," Regulus responded loudly. He gave the bridge of Harry's nose a gentle tap. The boy, who still stood frozen, nodded, even though Sirius wasn't able to see him from the stairway. "Yes, lemonade," Harry called.

Sirius didn't hear the quiver in Harry's voice. He whistled to himself as he headed back downstairs, the old wooden stairs, worn smooth by generations, groaning under his feet.

Harry's eyes met Regulus's, their green intense through the tears, like a forest after rainfall. "Please don't tell Siri."

"You said it wasn't dangerous?"

Harry nodded. "It wasn't. I promise it wasn't. We were just in the cornfield but the rest wasn't dangerous."

"All right, then I won't tell him," Regulus responded. That much was clear, he wasn't going to make the end of the holidays any worse that it already was. "All those weeks I remember you complaining that Sirius doesn't trust you but with the way you're acting, I can't blame him for being so strict with you. You're leaving him with no other choice."

Harry's face flushed, even his ears grew red. He nodded. "I really am sorry."

"The next time something like this happens, I expect you to be truthful. If you feel that, for some reason, you can't be truthful with Sirius, you will still tell me the truth. And I don't want to have to ask for it. I can assure you that, if you tell me that you made a promise, I'll respect that. I won't make you tell me unless I have to know in order to make sure that you are safe. You don't have to lie to me. Okay?"

"Okay." Harry's voice was soft.

"Good." Regulus glanced at the Hogsmeade permission slip. "I don't want to hear any complaints whenever Sirius decides to visit you and take you to Hogsmeade, even when it's during a Hogsmeade weekend and you would rather go with your friends. It's a treat and you ought to regard it as such. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded rapidly. He was gently biting his lip.

"A verbal answer, please."

"Yes."

"All right." Regulus took the Hogsmeade permission form and slipped it back under Harry's essays. He did not miss that Harry lit up like someone had changed his batteries, and he lifted an admonitory finger at the boy. "You're not going to Hogsmeade on the first weekend because you lied to me. After that, you're free to go as long as you stay safe and keep out of trouble. You promise me that."

Harry was beaming at him. "Thank you! Thank you so so much Reg!"

Regulus wrapped an arm around Harry's neck and drew him close. He gave the boy a tight squeeze. "You're welcome. And now, downstairs with you, or else Sirius will wonder what we're doing up here. You can begin dealing out the cards." He spun the boy around and sent him on his way with a love tap to his butt. "I'll join you in a minute."

He listened to Harry making his way downstairs with a bouncy, loping gait. Regulus took the permission form and ran his hand over it to smoothen out the wrinkles. The sight of his signature still made him feel slightly queasy but it was not nearly as bad as before. He could picture Sirius ripping it up, a dark frown on his face, his voice a growl. Are you out of your bloody mind? Regulus did not want him to be right. He and Harry, they would prove Sirius wrong. But Regulus wasn't irresponsible and he wasn't completely naive either.

He drew his wand. "Geminare," he murmured as he traced the edge of the paper with the tip of his wand. An exact copy appeared next to the permission slip, each wrinkle perfectly in place. Regulus tapped the original three times, then did the same with the copy. "Et speculum." When he folded the original and placed it back under Harry's essays, fine lines appeared in the paper of the duplicate in the place where he had folded the original. The spell had linked them like mirror images and whatever was done to one of them affected the other.

When he picked up the duplicated permission form and slipped it into his pocket, he noticed that Hedwig was studying him curiously. "You keep an eye on Harry, all right?" he whispered before producing another owl treat and sticking it through the bars of her cage, his fingers brushing her white feathers as she gobbled the dried moth up.

1st September 1993

The train hissed, and thick white steam billowed from the locomotive, augmenting the metallic mix of burning coal and motor oil that lay in the air. A warm smell like a blanket, like a passage ritual.

Harry turned back to Regulus and Sirius. "I have to go. Otherwise, we won't get a free compartment." He bit his lip before casting a quick look around. Neither Malfoy nor any of the other Slytherins from his year were standing close. Harry rose to his tiptoes and gave Regulus first and then Sirius a quick hug.

He pulled away after only a few seconds. He was, after all, not a first year anymore and Sirius's tight grip on his shoulder made him feel awkward. He was impatient to leave. Dragging the goodbye out forever made him feel even sadder than he already was about leaving home. Even though he loved Hogwarts and couldn't wait to see his friends again, he would miss his parents. However, from experience he knew that that that feeling was going to pass quickly. A few days in, and he was going to feel just fine. "Can you see Ron or Hermione anywhere?"

Regulus looked down the platform. Most of the children had boarded the train already and the crowd of parents and siblings was already slowly dispersing. If the Weasleys were still on the platform, there was no way he could possibly overlook them. "Perhaps they're inside already."

Harry scanned the windows. He licked his lips. They could hear the guards approaching from both sides, slamming the doors shut one by one. "All right. I think I should go too."

"Harry," said Sirius with a sudden sense of urgency, his hand on Harry's shoulder tightening, his fingers bearing into the boy's shoulder. "Be safe, okay? And remember your promise. You swore to me you won't… you won't go looking for Pettigrew. No matter what."

Harry frowned. "But why would I -"

"You swore it to me, Harry."

"Y-yeah," Harry said, still puzzled. "I won't go looking for him."

Sirius relaxed and released a deep breath. "But don't forget to have a good time." Sirius leaned down, whispering, "I'll miss you."

Regulus nudged Sirius with his elbow. "Please don't start crying."

Harry's lips quirked up and Regulus winked at him.

Sirius snorted. "Crying because I'll be stuck with you, twit."

One of the guards had arrived next to them and cleared his throat. "The train is leaving now," he said in an annoyed tone, mustering them with an expression usually reserved for nervous first-years clinging to their equally as nervous parents.

Sirius nodded. "Of course." He grabbed Harry's trunk and pushed it through the open train door into the narrow corridor. The train whistled again, and Sirius kept one foot on the train to prevent the door from closing. He ruffled Harry's hair when Harry took Hedwig's cage and squeezed past him, causing Harry to duck his head and grin at him.

"Love you, pup," Sirius said, keeping his voice low as not to embarrass Harry. It was always the last thing he said whenever they parted. Tomorrow isn't promised, Sirius had said to Harry once, and I don't ever want to miss an opportunity to tell you how much I love you.

"Love you too," Harry whispered, his throat tight suddenly.

Sirius stepped back and allowed the guard to close the door. A shrill whistle blew and the train began to move, creeping forward at first, its wheel axle bearings shrieking mechanically as it pulled away, and Sirius raised his hand and waved at Harry, swallowing hard when he saw that the boy waved back.

For a second, Harry feared that Sirius was going to push his way through the crowd and follow the train down the length of the platform. Luckily, he was stopped after one step when Regulus placed a hand on Sirius' left shoulder.

Then, the train picked up speed and shrouded the platform in a blast of steam.

When Harry turned, he saw Ron and Hermione standing at the end of the corridor, waving at him. Together, they looked for an empty compartment, but all were full except for one at the very end of the train. This one had only one occupant, and an unusual one. The man was sleeping in the seat next to the window, his face hidden from sight but they could tell from his light brown hair, flecked with gray, that he couldn't possibly be a student.

Hermione quickly identified him as Professor R. J. Lupin.

"How do you know?" Ron questioned. He quietly slid the door close behind them.

"It's on his luggage case," Hermione replied as she took a seat near the door.

"I remember that name," Harry said, "it's -"

"It was on our supply list, yes," Hermione said eagerly, excitement creeping into her voice, "he's our new DADA professor!"

All three children eyed the man curiously. His clothes were shabby and worn-out, so much so that Ron, being dressed from head to toe in hand-me-downs from his older brothers, looked unusually fashionable next to him. Hermione's forehead wrinkled as she studied the man more closely, not paying so much attention to his clothes but rather his sickly pale complexion. "He looks a bit… ill, doesn't he?"

Ron, who was sitting closest to Professor Lupin, scooted away and cast the man a wary look. "Nothing contagious, I hope."

"No," Harry said softly, "more like he's exhausted."

"I mean, duh." Ron placed his trunk on the bench, effectively creating a barrier between himself and the professor.

"Like he's been in a fight," Hermione whispered, studying the scars which crisscrossed the man's cheek and neck. Some looked old and marbled, others fresh and sore.

Ron's brows rose quickly. "I wonder how long he will last, considering that he's teaching Defense. He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he?"

Hermione ignored that. She looked around at Harry, then, a sudden smile lightened her face. "Oh Harry, I nearly forgot to show you!" She knelt on the floor and it was only now that Harry noticed the basket which was secured on top of her trunk. She undid the straps and a large, orange cat with brown stripes and a squashed head leapt from the basket. "This is Crookshanks," Hermione beamed as she ran her fingers through the cat's thick fur. "He's half-Kneazle. He's gorgeous, isn't he?"

Ron stared at the animal before he erupted in sudden laughter. "Where did you get this one from?"

Hermione scowled at him. "He's very intelligent, Ron."

Ron choked on his laughter. "He certainly didn't charm you with his beauty." The cat stretched luxuriously and yawned before it jumped on his knees. Ron tensed when the cat began to attack his bag and shoved Crookshanks away. The cat landed on his feet but twisted around immediately and jumped back up, this times with his claws out. "NO! Hermione, take it away!"

"It's a he, Ron."

"Get him off, then!"

"All right," Hermione grumbled. She got up and picked up Crookshanks, who immediately began to purr when she tickled him under his chin. "He might be a bit hyperactive after sitting in his basket for so long but he's a really sweet cat."

"Sweet?! Those claws are murder weapons," Ron exclaimed, shielding his bag protectively as he watched Hermione let Crookshanks run in the corridor. "Close the door, quick!"

Hermione rolled her eyes but did as he asked before she returned to her spot next to Harry. The train rattled a little and she held onto the edge of her seat. "Don't be such a baby, Ron. He only wanted to play, he needs to exercise."

"But not with Scabbers!"

"Scabbers?" Harry looked at Ron with a puzzled expression. A macabre image unfolded itself in front of his inner eye, Scabbers' decomposing body in Ron's bag, still wrapped in the same old jumper. Harry instinctively wrinkled his nose, considering that Scabbers had died three days ago. "I thought he was…"

"Ill, but he's fine now," Ron interrupted him, a grin flashing across his face.

Hermione sat up a little straighter, her lips thinning. She sensed that there was something going on in which she wasn't included. "Maybe you shouldn't feed him so many sweets," she admonished Ron.

Harry still stared at Ron, trying to figure out what Ron was trying to tell him that he didn't want to share with Hermione. Finally, it dawned on him: Ron's rat trap must have been successful. "Oh. So he recovered. When did that happen?"

"Yesterday morning."

"Well. I'm glad." Harry leaned back in his seat, a soft sigh of relief coming from his lips. At least he hadn't gotten in trouble for nothing. He studied the man at the window, remembering how strange Regulus's reaction had been when he had read his name on the supply list - it made him think that Regulus knew this man and that, for some reason, did not like him. Again, a feeling of discontent rose in Harry at the unfairness of it all - while Sirius and Regulus expected him to share everything going on in his life, they kept more secrets from him than they could keep count of. And on top of it all, there was Sirius, making Harry swear once again not to go looking for Pettigrew, the intensity of his tone nearly insulting now that Harry thought about it, like he actually thought Harry was that thick.

"And I'm glad that we're going back," Harry said and, in this moment, truly believed this to be true. It was better to let go like this than to look back and feel sad. Over the next minutes, he recounted everything that had happened over the holidays, from Sirius panicking about the windows to Regulus burning the newspaper and finally finding out about Pettigrew. "I get that they were worried but I was practically grounded for two months. Two months!"

Ron, who already knew most of this, nodded sympathetically. "They've gone mad, both of them from what it sounds," Ron said. He was still shocked that Harry's parents were even capable of such behavior as he had always only experienced them as fun counterparts to his own constantly stressed and overworked parents.

"Sirius more than Reg," said Harry. "But they both think he wants to kill me."

Ron guffawed. "He can get in line."

Hermione cast him a dark look and pointed at Professor Lupin, who was still slumped against the window to Ron's left. "Keep it down! Don't you see that the professor is sleeping? Also, this isn't something to make fun of, Ron." She turned to Harry. "Look, Harry, I know you probably don't want to hear this but… what if they're right?"

There was a beat of silence in the compartment, only the rattling of the train underneath them as it passed through a misty forest.

"They might be," Harry responded in an annoyed tone. "Welcome to my life. But that still gives them no right." He was a bit disappointed that Hermione immediately took his parents' side. After all, he hadn't shared all of this only to be lectured more. "You don't realize that I was literally imprisoned at home. Even Reg wasn't allowed to leave the house, that's how crazy Sirius got. I didn't even get to go to Diagon Alley, not even once. I really don't get why they are acting like this. Pettigrew can't possibly be worse than Voldemort."

Hermione's expression wavered. She tucked a bushy strand of hair behind her ear. "That does sound a bit over the top…"

"See!" Ron exclaimed. Wincing at the volume of his voice, he continued in a much quieter tone, "Harry has defeated You-Know-Who not once, he's done it twice."

"You should still try not to find trouble," Hermione said.

"I don't," Harry muttered. "Trouble just always ends up finding me."

Ron and Hermione sensed that it was better to change the topic. First, they talked about their vacations but, in an attempt to include Harry, switched to discussing Hogsmeade.

"You're allowed to come, though, aren't you?" Ron asked. He was munching on pumpkin pasty, which Harry had bought for them from the trolley witch at lunchtime.

Harry studied the professor to make sure he was still asleep, then leaned forwards and spoke in a low voice, "Reg signed the permission form but Sirius mustn't know that. He'd kill us both if he found out so don't tell anyone."

Hermione chewed on a strand of her hair. "But Harry," she began, "can he even legally sign it? Isn't Sirius your official guardian because he's your godfather?"

Harry shrugged. "It makes no difference to us. And Reg is registered as a co-parent."

"A signature is a signature," Ron said, stretching out his legs and resting his scuffed sneakers on the seat opposite to him, "I'm glad you're coming."

The weather became increasingly worse the further north they traveled. The train rattled on stubbornly, on through the rain which hammered against the windows, on through the wind howling outside. Professor Lupin slept through it all.

Without warning, the train came to a screeching halt and the lamps went out.

In the darkness, Harry saw the black silhouettes of Hermione and Ron feeling their way back to their seats. "What's going on?" he asked.

There was the sound of chattering teeth. "Jeez, it's cold."

Harry adjusted his glasses when he heard the glass door slide open. A burst of freezing cold air blew into the room. He turned around to see who had opened the door, only to look up at a dark, cloaked silhouette, much taller than a regular person would be, standing in between frozen glass panels, fern frost shooting up around its slim frame. No… Harry realized that the creature wasn't standing… Harry looked down to see that it was floating. A feeling of inexplicable terror overcame him and he flinched hard, pushing himself back into his seat. An intense coldness spread over them, so much so that he could see his breath. It seemed like he was taking it in with every breath he took, this terrible frost, creeping into his lungs, his veins, and spreading like cancer.

Hermione and Ron gasped when the creature entered the compartment and bent over Harry, so low that Harry could smell its cold, rotting body. It opened its mouth and all Harry could see was a dark hole, so dark that it appeared to suck all the remaining bits of light and warmth from the small compartment. Harry couldn't breathe, his lungs frozen, he was drowning in the endless darkness of the creature hovering above. The last thing he heard came from somewhere far away in the distance, a woman begging and then a long, high-pitched scream, the despair in it so terrible that Harry felt as though it were tearing him apart. Then, his eyes rolled back and, the scream still going on in Harry's ears, everything went black.

"Where is he?" Sirius demanded as soon as he stepped out of the marbled fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office. His voice was shaking.

Remus was standing next to Professor McGonagall's desk. He took an instinctive step back when Sirius and Regulus entered the professor's office. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Minerva has left to fetch Harry. They should be here any moment now."

Sirius walked over to the door, opened it. The Gryffindor common room was empty. The students had arrived mere minutes ago. Sirius closed the door with an impatient huff, turned, stared at Remus. Only now, he realized how long they had not seen each other. It must have been five, maybe six years. If Sirius weren't so worried, he would be shocked at how much Remus had aged. His childhood friend looked much older than thirty-three. "You were with them?"

Remus nodded stiffly.

"Is Harry okay?"

"He is," Remus responded. He leaned against the desk. "He had a bit of a shock, as could be expected, but he recovered quickly. He's a remarkable boy."

Sirius began to walk in circles. He looked up at the clock. "What is taking them so long?"

Regulus had not moved away from the fireplace. His posture was rigid, his jawline sharp, defined. "Patience," he whispered, his throat tight. "You heard he's fine." He coldly mustered Remus from top to bottom. Purple circles hung under the man's eyes. Remus's hand went up to his throat, where he scratched a new scar which had not even fully scabbed over yet. A sliver of moonlight fell into the room, touched McGonagall's desk, only inches from the edge against Remus was leaning. Regulus raised an eyebrow, then cast a pointed look out of the window where the full moon rose behind ice-capped mountains.

Remus noticed the direction of Regulus' gaze. He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a quick step further into the room where the moonlight could no longer reach him. "There's no need to worry," he said weakly, "I'm -"

He was cut off when the door opened and revealed Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. They were followed by Harry, who padded after them with a rather disgruntled expression on his unnaturally pale face. The boy froze when he saw Sirius and Regulus. He barely managed to close the door behind himself before Sirius rushed towards him and was all over him, feeling his forehead, then fingers running through his hair and feeling around his scalp like he expected to find a bump or warm blood on his fingers. "Merlin, pup… are you fine? You're cold. Do you feel okay?"

"Y-yeah," Harry stammered. His hands on Sirius' chest, he pushed back, and Sirius straightened up and took a shuddering breath. His hand closed around Harry's biceps. Harry looked from Sirius to Regulus and finally to Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. "I'm okay. Really."

"I will be the judge of that," Madam Pomfrey said. "What exactly happened?"

"Professor Lupin sent an owl that there had been a Dementor on the train," Professor McGonagall responded tightly. "Apparently it attacked Mr. Potter."

"Not just me," Harry muttered. "And it didn't exactly attack me, I just sorta slipped off my seat and..." he trailed off.

"You feinted," insisted Remus, however, he did so in such a gentle tone that Harry did not look offended. "Dementors can have that effect on some people."

"Some people?" Harry asked.

He did not get a response as Madam Pomfrey moved to stand in front of him. Just like Sirius had only a minute prior, Madam Pomfrey felt Harry's forehead. "Yes, he's a bit clammy." She proceeded to checked his pulse, hummed. "Dementors at a school, I still cannot believe it." She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth disapprovingly.

"How is that even possible," hissed Regulus, coming up to stand behind Harry, "why have the Dementors left Azkaban?"

"They are here on order from the Ministry of Magic," said Professor McGonagall, shaking her head to herself. "They were supposed to guard the school and its students -"

"But surely not to attack defenseless children," Regulus said hotly.

"I'm not defenseless!"

At those words, Sirius drew Harry into a tight embrace. "What in Merlin's name am I supposed to do with you," the man whispered huskily.

"Am I in trouble?" Harry attempted a cheeky grin.

"YOU," said Sirius, laughing despite himself, forcing some of his anxiety off, "should get some rest. I have half a mind to take you home." Despite his light tone, both Harry and Regulus understood that it was a genuine offer. He ran his fingers through Harry's clammy locks, gentle.

Harry knitted his brows. "Please, no," he groaned, "I'm fine, really." The thought of having to go home even before the Welcoming Feast, that would be too embarrassing to handle on top of everything else. He kept his voice low, asking "can I please begin this year like everyone else?"

"Poppy, what is your opinion," asked Professor McGonagall, "does Potter need bed rest?"

"At the very least, he should have a bit of chocolate," Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry looked at Remus. "Professor Lupin already gave me some," he said, a soft smile crossing his face as his eyes met those of Remus.

"I'm glad you were there," Sirius said, turning to Remus. Then, his eyebrows creased. "Although I am surprised - a teacher on the train?"

Remus twisted his arm back, rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting Sirius' eye. "Returning to Hogwarts stirred some nostalgia and I presume that I wanted to indulge in it for a bit. It was only by chance that Harry ended up in the same compartment as I. In fact, I must have fallen asleep even before the Hogwarts Express left King's Cross and did not wake until the attack happened."

"Seems like you had a long night," Regulus said sharply. "Would have been even better if you had woken up before the Dementor attacked Harry."

Remus lowered his head. His Adam's apple bobbed as he spoke, "Regulus, I…"

Both Sirius and Harry turned to look at Regulus, curiosity glittering in Harry's eyes, annoyance in Sirius's.

"We should be grateful he was there," Sirius said slowly, his gaze on Regulus, intense. Then, he turned to Remus and gave him a nod. "Thank you."

Regulus said nothing. Instead, he looked past Remus, mouth twisted into a soured expression.

Regulus had been surprised that Sirius hadn't dragged Dumbledore out of the Welcoming Feast and insisted they have a discussion immediately. "Harry is going to hate me if we do that," Sirius had responded, a tight half-smile on his lips. He was, perhaps, right. So they had waited until after the Welcoming Feast was over to pass by Dumbledore's office. The headmaster had been in a hurry, and the brief exchange hadn't reassured them in the least. In the three minutes that they spent in his office, five owls arrived, four of them carrying the seal of the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore had only skimmed the last two before he stepped into the fireplace and left for the Ministry in a blaze of green flames, leaving them with no other option than to return home.

Regulus suggested taking the floo as well, but Sirius decided that they should take the path to Hogsmeade and apparate from there. "I want to see how safe it is."

Exiting the castle's massive gates and following the gravel path down to Hogsmeade, Sirius rifled his jacket for cigarettes, harvested one, lit it, his hand shaking so hard that he needed three attempts. A cool breeze blew throughout the fragrant night air filled with glittering stars and fireflies. Sirius stared up at the sky, searching for shadows. It was like they had traveled twelve years back in time and he was no longer the hunter, he was the hunted.

Regulus knew what fear looked like. Right now, it wore the face of Sirius, too afraid to stand tall under the night sky. Cigarettes again, after so many years. He had smelled them on Sirius over the last weeks but had not questioned his brother about it.

"I still can't believe that nobody told us," Regulus said as they walked along the edge of the forest, leaves and gravel crunching under their boots. "That Dumbledore didn't at least inform us about this. We have a right to know what's going on at this school. But no, he really outdid himself this year. Dementors on the grounds, a werewolf teaching… so very reassuring."

Sirius blew out an aggressive puff of smoke, cursing under his breath. "It wasn't his decision, it's this asshole Fudge who's behind all this. Has his bureaucrat cronies making our work as hard as possible and now this. He won't take the blame for shit, it's not the fault of the Ministry for not securing Peter's cell better, it's us, the Aurors, who can't find him. He doesn't care that -" his voice faltered and he took a deep breath, "Dementors can't tell the difference between children and prisoners."

"And Remus? It's a full moon, Sirius, and he takes the train. How irresponsible -"

Something flicked over Sirius' eyes. "The full moon was last night, Reg."

Regulus pointed up at the full moon. "Do you see that? That round thing up there? Still looks pretty full to me!"

Sirius barely glanced at the moon, which cast silver light across the water of the lake. "What it looks like doesn't matter. He seemed fine when we talked to him earlier, in fact he seemed better than he usually was on the day after the full moon, so clearly he must have figured something out."

"There's no cure for lycanthropy."

"He's fine, he'll deal. He lived here for seven years and not even once attacked a student." Sirius side-eyed Regulus. "Unless said student was irresponsible enough to go into the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow."

Regulus bristled. "See, there is a danger -"

"Remus isn't the problem here," Sirius interrupted him sharply. "We have more important things to focus on."

"If you say so."

"Regulus," Sirius growled, "cut it out."

Regulus shoved his hands into his pockets. He hated when Sirius took that tone with him, talked to him like an annoyed parent. However, he knew that there was no way one could have a rational argument with Sirius when Sirius was anxious like this. Sirius's focus was on the Dementors and he perceived everything else as a distraction. Thus, Regulus forced himself to, at least momentarily, swallow his anger at Remus.

Sirius stopped abruptly, whipped his wand out, eyes wide.

There, right where the castle's wards left off, the ghostly silhouette of a Dementor floated through the night sky, seemingly aimless and quiet like a leaf in the wind. Then, they noticed that three other Dementors were circling above the lake.

"Shit," Regulus whispered, drawing his wand as well.

Sirius took a shuddering breath. "Let's walk over here," he said, dropping his cigarette and moving off the path and into the shadow of the trees. "It's not safe being so close."

Instead of following his brother, Regulus crossed the short distance to the loamy edge of the lake, looking up at the sky where the Dementors were drawing wide circles like birds of prey, almost invisible against the black night sky. He narrowed his eyes as he attempted to locate the Dementors' target. "Do you think they found something?"

"REG," Sirius hissed tensely. "Get over here, now!"

Regulus turned to look at his brother. "They're far away," he tried to reassure him, "do you want me to cast a Patronus charm for you?"

"I'm not here for exposure therapy," Sirius barked. He strode over to Regulus, firmly took him by his upper arm and began to drag him along, away from the lake.

"Hey!"

Sirius stopped when they had reached the dark edge of the trees, the dense canopy like a blanket above their heads, sheltering them from the Dementors in the sky. He spoke through ground teeth, "I'm not talking just because I like the sound of my voice. I'm not risking a second attack tonight. Is that clear?"

Regulus twisted out of Sirius' grip. "Merlin's beard! I get that they make you nervous but you're overreacting. Not that that's something new…"

"Who's the Auror, me or you?"

"I can judge a situation just fine on my own, thank you very much." Regulus adjusted his lapel roughly. "And you're surprised that Harry doesn't talk openly with you." He muttered the last part under his breath, it slipped out before he managed to stifle it.

"What did you say?" Sirius' voice was razor-sharp.

"Nothing," Regulus replied angrily. He waved his wand in a circular motion and a corporeal patronus in the form of a silvery Nebelung cat sprung forth from its tip. "See? I'm being extra careful." He brushed past Sirius, wand ready. His patronus followed him, its blue light illuminating the needle-strewn forest floor. He knew that, if they didn't face the Dementors now, they would have to deal with facing their memory later at home as it haunted Sirius.

Sirius caught up with him quickly, quietly walking in between Regulus and the lake but also not leaving the cone of light that radiated from Regulus's patronus.

"At least it appears as though they really do stay outside the castle's wards," Regulus said after some time, tentatively breaking the silence which their argument had born. "So that's good."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed softly.

Regulus sensed that his brother had calmed down some. Sirius's shoulders had relaxed and he was holding his wand like a ready tool, didn't clutch it anymore like a knife ready to be driven in between an invisible attacker's ribs. Regulus felt a surge of pride rising at the sight of Sirius, so close to his cat patronus, trusting him, but still bravely standing in between Regulus and the Dementors. Apology accepted, thought Regulus, I know it's hard but you're doing so well. He did not say that out loud, knowing that Sirius wouldn't take it well.

Hogsmeade was close now, the lights of the village flickered between the silhouetted treeline. There were still Dementors above their heads, Regulus had counted thirteen on the way and he spotted two more just outside the village.

"They seem placid now," Sirius muttered, "but who knows how long they stay like this. If they can't find Peter, they have to feed on something" - he corrected himself - "someone."

"The centaurs will love that," Regulus said sarcastically.

"Not just the centaurs. I can't believe that they want to allow the students to leave the castle's grounds during the Hogsmeade weekends."

A jolt went through Regulus's body. It had not yet occurred to him that Harry would walk down the same path to Hogsmeade as well. "You don't think…?" He didn't even know what exactly he was asking but his insides flipped upside down and he thought he was going to be sick.

"Just look what happened to Harry."

Regulus felt like he couldn't breathe.

They reached the first street lantern, and Sirius noticed how pale Regulus was. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Regulus responded tightly.

Sirius stopped walking. "Hey. Look at me."

Regulus released his breath slowly before he met his brother's probing gaze.

"I won't let anything happen to him," Sirius said. "Not again. You have my word on that."

Tbc…