A/N: This will be the last chapter of second year; the next chapter will pick up a year later, in January of third year.

Chapter Thirteen: His Whole Two Weeks of Paradise

When Sirius Flooes to the address Andy gave him, she greets him with a big smile and a hug. "It's so good to see you," says Sirius, his voice muffled by her belly, where a bump is starting to show. "You're so pregnant!"

"I know!" she replies, laughing. "Ted won't be home until this evening, but I took the day off from work. Do you want to get some lunch? Downtown is just a few streets over, and we'll have some options there that you can choose from."

"At—you mean Muggle restaurants?"

Andy smiles. "I know your mum and dad aren't in the habit of taking you to any of them—" this is the biggest understatement Sirius has heard from anybody all year "—but it's actually easier to get along when you're of age by spending a little time in the Muggle world. You'd get bored pretty quick if you went to The Leaky Cauldron every time you wanted to eat out, you know? Besides, there aren't any all-wizarding villages anywhere in Britain besides Hogsmeade. You get used to going to Gringotts and changing out money so that you can pay property taxes every year—or rent every month, if you live in a flat."

"How does that work, exactly?" asks Sirius avidly. "Wizards don't have Muggle birth certificates or—or licenses or anything, do they? How do you manage to buy or rent Muggle property if, when they try to look you up—?"

"Well, we are wizards," Andy reminds him with a smirk. "It's nothing that a few Confundus Charms can't take care of anytime anybody from the Muggle government comes calling. Some of us also—Ted and I bought this house under his name, for example. I don't legally exist in the Muggle world, but since he's a Muggle-born, he does."

"And the wizarding world doesn't lose money from a bunch of gold going out to the Muggles all the time?"

"We do make some of it back from Muggle-borns whose parents exchange their Muggle money for gold at Gringotts to pay their kids' way," she says, "but the goblins at Gringotts are always mining gold so they can cast more Galleons to put back into the wizarding economy."

"But that doesn't explain who the goblins are exchanging all those Galleons with in order to have Muggle money on hand for wizards who need it."

"That's the other way we get away with it," she says, grinning. "Most of the Muggle money you can exchange gold for at Gringotts is counterfeit."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. It's not like the Muggles will ever be able to tell the difference: you can pull off a perfect counterfeit note when you know how to do magic."

"But then, what's stopping people from just making counterfeit notes at home instead of having to spend their Galleons on them?"

"You forget that the Ministry can do magic, too—they've got a Trace on it and can squash anybody who tries it pretty quick. Now, come on—there's a thrift store we can swing by before we go out to eat, so we can get you some Muggle clothes."

"Muggle clothes?"

"Yeah. We'd look pretty conspicuous if we walked all over Muggle England in our robes and cloaks for the next couple of weeks, wouldn't we?"

Sirius has never owned Muggle clothes before. Neither he nor Andy really has the faintest idea what kinds of clothes are commonplace for Muggles to wear, but they kill an hour entertaining themselves in the thrift shop she takes him to; he tries on a bunch of goofy hats, and he tries to get used to the feeling of wearing slacks instead of loose robes. He'd definitely prefer to try on the skirts over in the women's section, but Andy insists that he'll stick out even more in a skirt than he would in his wizard's robes.

They get lunch next, and it's not until they're walking back to the house, Sirius wearing pants and a neon yellow shirt with shoulder pads that he's pretty sure might be meant for a girl, that it all goes to hell. "How's Regulus doing?" Andy asks him. She's got the rest of his new clothes slung over her shoulder in a couple of long plastic bags. "Did he end up finding someone to stay with over the holiday? I know you were worried he'd be alone at Hogwarts."

"I don't think him being alone at Christmas is going to be the issue this year," Sirius scoffs.

"What do you—?"

"He went home, Andy. The idiot went back to Grimmauld Place."

At this, Andy actually stops walking, and Sirius trips over her feet and nearly bowls her over. "He went home?" she asks, aghast.

"Yeah. I didn't know until two days ago. I told him not to be stupid, but—"

"Sirius, you can't just leave him there. You know what your mum and dad are like. If he's home for the holidays—"

"Yeah, but what do you expect me to do about it? I can't force him to go back to Hogwarts. Even if I could make him leave Grimmauld Place—and I already know he won't—the Hogwarts fireplaces only Floo people's whole bodies out, not in."

"I know, and that's not what I meant. If Regulus is at home…"

It dawns on Sirius, then, what she means, and he gapes at her. His whole two weeks of paradise—days out in the Muggle world and nights that stretch on and on as they talk into the morning—meeting Ted for the first time—their plans to bring some of the Gryffindors over for Boxing Day—"You're joking. You have to be joking. If you think I'm actually going to go back there—"

"He's your brother, and your mum is going to destroy him if you don't—"

"Let her destroy me instead? He made his choice. Since when do I have to put myself—just because he won't protect himself, why shouldn't I protect myself? It's abuse, Andy! You know it is! How can you—the things she and Dad have done to me—how can you send me back there? How can you live with yourself?"

"How can you live with yourself, knowing that Regulus is there without you? All you two have when you're there is each other. I can't always be there to—"

"You could," Sirius hisses. "You could if you took us in, but you won't."

"Sirius," says Andy, starting to lose patience, "we've been over why I can't take you in in the summers. It'll only make your home life worse when the Ministry sends you back there, and—"

"Yeah? How do you even know Mum and Dad would want to fight you for custody? If they hate us so much—"

"They don't hate you," she says staunchly, "and they don't hate Regulus. I know that it's complicated, but—"

"'It's complicated? It's complicated?' Are you kidding me? You're sick, Andy, if you think that the best thing for me is to—"

But she's pursing her lips and shaking her head in a way that means she's not going to back down from this one. "You'll understand someday," she says, but Sirius doesn't think he's going to—not ever.

"And what am I supposed to tell them when I suddenly show up in their fireplace, huh? They think I'm back at Hogwarts right now. They're not going to believe me if I say I—what—got homesick? Is that what you expect me to say?"

"You tell them you want to spend time with your brother after you haven't since he got to Hogwarts," says Andy, "and then you do it. Spend time with him, Sirius. He needs you."

"He doesn't want me. Do you know what he said to me about how he feels about me? He—"

"I don't care what he said to you. He may not know that he needs you, but that doesn't mean he doesn't. Sirius…"

"What?" She doesn't continue. "What?"

"I know you don't understand it," she murmurs, "but I'm trying to do the thing that will cause the least total damage to the two of you."

"Sure you are," he says, glaring at her. "The thing that would cause the least damage would be to save us. I thought you could do it—I thought you gave a shit—but you're useless. You just don't want us disrupting your perfect little life with your job and your baby and your Mudblood husband—"

The slur slips out before he can stop it. It's the first time he's called anybody 'Mudblood' in almost a year now, but he's so mad that he forgets to censor the language he's been taught to use for as long as he can remember. Andy looks stung, but she just says, "I know you're angry, Sirius, so I'm going to let you take that back after you've calmed down."

"I'm not going to calm down. Do you hear me? I am never going to forgive you."

They're outside the house by this point, and Sirius walks inside and slams the door behind him in Andy's face. He can hear her trying to talk to him through the bathroom door as he changes back into his old robes, but he ignores it as he comes back out and marches straight over to the pot of Floo powder by the fireplace. He's so worked up that it actually feels good to storm off into the fire with his trunk, but of course, his horror and fear start to sink in as soon as he emerges at the grate in Grimmauld Place. Nobody's in the living room, and he tries to walk as quickly and as quietly as he can to the staircase and up to his bedroom, keeping his trunk off the ground so it doesn't drag on the wood: this will be easier the longer he can manage to conceal himself from Mum and Dad.

When he slips into his room and silently closes the door behind him, he's absolutely startled to hear Regulus's voice coming from inside the room. "Sirius? What on earth are you…?"

And for the first time, Sirius realizes that, whatever Regulus says, maybe his brother does love him after all. Why would he have returned to his hiding spot underneath Sirius's bed if the thought and smell of Sirius don't still make him feel safe?

But he's still enraged from his encounter with Andy, and he can hardly appreciate the gravity of this moment when he's livid with Regulus for messing up what should have been a long-anticipated vacation—for getting Sirius sent back here. "She kicked me out," he says flatly. "She says I need to stay here and protect you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to have to come home if you didn't—"

"It's fine," says Sirius curtly. "I don't want to talk. I don't even want to look at you."

"Do you want me to go? I can go. I wouldn't have come in here if I'd known you were going to come home."

"And what," Sirius snaps, "would be the point in me coming home if I sent you away?"

Regulus doesn't say anything. Sirius doesn't join him under the bed—he flounces over to it and hops on top, hoping that the mattress sinks down right on top of Regulus's stupid face. He reaches over to rummage on his desk for some parchment, an inkpot and a quill, and he flattens the parchment on top of the comforter and starts to write.

James,

Boxing Day is off. When Andy found out Regulus is staying at home, she sent me back here with him. Can you tell everybody else not to try and meet me there?

I'll Floo to you sometime if I can, but I might not be able to. My parents were pretty furious with me for bringing Em here all summer after they found out that she's a half-blood, and I think at this point they just want to keep me away from everybody I know from Hogwarts whenever they can.

He wants to add something about the rage and powerlessness and disbelief coursing through him, but he doesn't know how to put it into words, so he just signs his name at the bottom and then folds the letter up. He'll send it later: if he goes looking for Aries right now, chances are good that he'll run into one of his parents, and he'd like to avoid them until dinnertime if he can.

Sirius doesn't know how long he sits there fuming on the bed, feeling all the crevices of his fury as it slowly melts into molten betrayal with a good dose of fear—and confusion, too. Why would Regulus come to hide here if he wants nothing to do with Sirius? Is Sirius only good enough for him when Regulus is here at home, away from the protection of his bloody Slytherin friends, confronted with the reality of the parents from whom only Sirius has ever tried to protect him?

Regulus doesn't make a sound from under the bed the whole time Sirius is on top of it, but Sirius eventually caves and crawls down there with him. "I hate you," he seethes, watching Regulus tuck a bookmark into his book and set it aside. "I hate you."

"I'm sorry I've been so… you just don't know what it's like. The pressure I'm under from Mum and Dad not to turn out like you—from everybody in Slytherin who expects me to shun you—and I'd be lying if I said I understood how you could turn on everything you know is right, but—"

"You're the one who's wrong," says Sirius. "You're brainwashed. You're blind—and I still would take you back into my life in a second if…"

"We… we have two weeks now, don't we? Can't we just…?"

"Be brothers again? Pretend like the last four months didn't just happen, just so that you can spit all over me again as soon as we get back to Hogwarts, as soon as I allow myself to believe that you'll have me?"

"Sirius, I'm sorry—"

"Yeah, you keep saying that," Sirius mutters. "Just—shut up. You can stay down here, but only if you don't say anything."

Regulus does what he's told. When he wraps his little arms around Sirius's middle and sticks his face in Sirius's shoulder, Sirius allows it.

As expected, Mum and Dad don't react well to seeing Sirius when he comes down for dinner three hours later. Mum gets him pinned up against the wall, spitting all over his face, demanding, "You think you can waltz back into this house after everything you've done to this family and expect us to care for you—to feed and clothe and worship you? You've got another thing coming, little boy—"

He may be terrified of her—he thinks he's always going to be terrified of her—but if the only thing Sirius has got to lose is his physical safety… well, it's not like he's going to keep that away from her no matter what he does, is it? This time, he watches Regulus out the corner of his eye, sees the way he flinches like he's the one being struck every time Mum raises her hand, and he relishes in it. Go on and let Regulus feel guilty—go on and let him take personal responsibility for every blow. If he'd been smart enough to stay at Hogwarts—to come to Andy's with Sirius—

But now that she's kicked him out, Sirius never wants to see Andy ever again. On the one hand, he resents the hell out of Regulus for (as far as Sirius is concerned) destroying Sirius's relationship with Andy. If only bloody Regulus had been bloody smart, Sirius and Andy never would have had that fight, and he'd still be in that house with her right now—probably sitting down to dinner with her and Ted right this second, getting to know his cousin-in-law for the first time. But on the other, if Andy always had this in her—if Andy was always going to be somebody who would put Sirius back in his parents' path for the sake of a brother who doesn't even want Sirius's protection—does Sirius really want that kind of person for his role model in life?

Because Andy was his role model. She was kind and smart and funny, and she loved him, and most importantly of all, she got out—she gave Sirius hope that someday he could get out, too. All this time, did she ever deserve his idolatry? Was she the person he thought she was? Was she ever going to save him?

He thinks he knows the answer, and he doesn't like it. Suddenly, he can't stand to watch Regulus another second, and he closes his eyes.

xx

He tries to fight it—he really does—but Sirius can't help slipping back into the role of Regulus's ally while they're home, only this time, there's an undercurrent of resentment that never used to be there between them. Sirius knows Regulus is only giving Sirius the time of day because his little Slytherin friends aren't around to judge him for it—because he's too scared of Mum to stick to his principles—maybe even because he wants Sirius to love him enough to deflect Mum's attention away from him.

Well, fine. If that's the job Andy's given him—the reason that Sirius has to be here instead of there—then he'll do it, and he'll do it well. If he's stuck here, he may as well make it worth something.

But the end of break keeps creeping closer, and even though he's dying to get away from Mum and Dad, he's scared to admit to himself what it's going to mean for him and Regulus—to admit to himself how much he's already let Regulus back in. He hasn't exactly confided in Regulus about anything or spent quality time with him: they mostly just hang out under the bed or, when Regulus is feeling braver, in the attic; Regulus reads his books, and Sirius plays Solitaire or doodles. They don't have anything to say to each other, but at least Regulus is here. At least, if Sirius wanted to talk to him—if he had a damn thing he cared to say to him—he could.

On New Year's Eve, Mum and Dad go out to a gala at the Rowles' or the Notts' or someplace; Sirius waits the necessary half an hour, then says goodbye to Regulus and Flooes over to the Potters' manor. He doesn't warn James that he's coming—he didn't know Mum and Dad were going to be gone until they were leaving—so when he stumbles into the Potters' living room, the last thing he's expecting is for Mrs. Potter to tell him, "Oh, you made it! James said you couldn't come. I'll walk you down to where everybody is."

"Who, uh… who's 'everybody?'" asks Sirius with some apprehension as he follows Mrs. Potter into the hall.

"Just the Gryffindor second years," she says cheerily. "Didn't James invite you? He was so disappointed when he told us you weren't coming."

"All of them?"

"Well, only two of the girls—but all the other boys are here! They'll all be so excited to see you."

Sirius feels a little shell-shocked when Mrs. Potter opens the door to the sitting room where James, Emmeline, Peter, Marlene, and Moony are all shouting over each other, a deck of Exploding Snap cards spread out in the middle of the circle they're sitting in. Everybody looks up—their faces fall—but then Peter comes rushing forward and almost bowls Sirius over in a hug.

"Oh, Sirius—how are you? Are they treating you okay over there? What happened? James sent us all letters to tell us where you were, but he said you didn't say—"

As Peter's talking, everybody else abandons the game and comes up to greet Sirius, too. When Peter lets go, James seizes Sirius in his own hug, an even longer one; Moony claps him on the back, and Emmeline takes his hand and smiles, although she still looks sad.

"It's a long story," says Sirius. "Can I fill you all in later? I've had my fill of my family until—summer vacation, probably."

"Yeah, of course," says James. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you we were all going to be seeing each other today. I thought for sure you wouldn't be able to come, and I didn't want to make you feel bad about—"

"It's okay," Sirius says, and he really thinks it is. He missed these people in the days since they left the castle, and seeing them now makes him feel like he's got pieces of his soul made whole again, even as the absence of Regulus starts to gnaw at him—but by now, Sirius is used to having a feeling of emptiness where Regulus is supposed to be. It's a little harder now that he's had over a week's respite full of Regulus's company, but it's nothing he can't get used to again—or so he promises himself.

"You want to join in?" asks Marlene. "We can start a new round, no problem."

They've exhausted themselves playing Exploding Snap and chowing down on snacks Mrs. Potter brings them by the time Sirius gets up the nerve to explain what happened between him and Andy. He feels a little validated by his friends' reactions—they're no happier with Andy than he is. Incredulously, Emmeline says, "And she just—sent you back to that place? Just like that? She didn't even stop to consider—?"

"Oh, she considered what it was going to be like for me to see Mum and Dad again," Sirius snorts. "That's the whole reason she made me leave—because she knows what they're like, and she knew what they were going to be doing to Regulus this whole time."

"And she—wanted you to take the heat off of him?" says Marlene.

"I don't think she wanted me to get hurt—she just wanted him to have somebody in his corner. And—I think she sort of expects me to protect him. She thinks I can handle it in ways he can't."

"But that's not fair," says James, outraged. "You're only a year older than he is, and—"

"—You say that like you agree with her, Sirius," Moony mumbles.

"I don't agree with her. I just…"

But suddenly, no one is looking at Sirius anymore—everyone is looking behind him. He turns around, and there in the doorway is—

He can't believe his eyes. He stares, and the seconds tick by, and he waits to wake up, but—it may not feel like it, but this is actual, real life.

"Hi," Regulus mutters. "I—missed you, and I just thought…"

Sirius feels flush and flustered. This is what he wanted, isn't it? How many hours has he spent imagining Regulus getting to know all of Sirius's friends, becoming one of them?

He looks at James—it's James's house, after all—but James is looking blankly back at Sirius, leaving it in his hands. Well—

Sirius turns back to Regulus. "If you're going to give Pete any shit about being Muggle-born, you're not welcome here," he says, crossing his arms. "Same with Remus and Em being half-blood. If you're going to take advantage of my friends, those are my terms."

"Come on," Moony pleads, "he's not 'taking advantage' of—"

"Okay," says Regulus.

"I mean it—and I'm not just talking about not calling anybody 'Mudblood.' If I call you out on anything you say, no matter how inoffensive or accurate or honest you think it is, you accept it, and you apologize."

"Okay."

"And the same goes for anything anyone here tells you. I'm still learning—I might not be able to be the one to catch you every time."

James breaks in, "Sirius—"

But Regulus just nods. "Okay," he says a third time.

They stare at each other—Sirius's heart is beating fast for reasons totally unlike the ones he gets at home—and—

"Get in here, you little punk," he says, and he wedges Regulus under his arm and noogies him lightly.

Regulus manages to go a whole two hours without saying anything offensive, but that's probably because he hardly says anything at all. It's not as comfortable as Regulus's interactions with the Gryffindors always are in Sirius's daydreams: he looks nervous, really nervous, and the others obviously don't know what the hell to say to him and keep looking over at him like they're afraid of what's going to happen when he opens his mouth. Sirius isn't stupid—he knows this isn't going to keep happening, that Regulus is only here because he wants to pretend just as badly as Sirius does that they can be a meaningful part of each other's lives again. The second they walk back into Hogwarts, Regulus is going to go crawling back into his corner, and Sirius will turn up his chin and go to his own, and they'll have the confront the reality of life without each other again.

Time is a weird thing: Sirius knows he's going to have to go a long time, probably his whole life, after this without ever experiencing anything like it again—that soon, this will just be a memory, and Regulus will be gone again. But for now, it's not a memory, not yet: Regulus is right here, in one of the Potters' many sitting rooms, and they don't have to go home yet. It feels just like the times when Sirius tries to stretch out the seconds before he knows Mum is going to come after him: he knows what's coming, but he thinks that if only he could appreciate what he has right now more—freeze it—slow it down—then maybe, he can make it last long enough that it doesn't have to end, or at least so that when it does end, he can revisit it in his mind so clearly that it'll be like it's still happening around him.

None of these things happen, of course. When he and Regulus Floo home, Regulus sprints out of the living room and goes straight for his own bedroom, and all Sirius feels is alone.

xx

END OF PART TWO