Chapter Ten – Lost Boys

October 1977

He had never been a brave boy, particularly.

As a child, he was prone to hiding behind his mother's expansive skirts, and then when he was big enough for her to notice and scare him away with the sharp bite of her tongue, he would hide behind his brother. His brother was always willing to be his shield – it fed into his ego, no doubt. He would puff his chest out, clench his fists, and raise his chin, as though he was the last defence of the losing army. His brother could handle the stares and the smacks. He would smirk as though he were untouchable.

He could see the cracks in his brother's armour. The trembling hand, the one strand of hair out of place on his forehead that flinched even if his brother didn't. When he built up the courage, he would sometimes slip his hand into his brother's, and squeeze his fingers, as though they were a united front. The last drop of bravery would leak out when he caught his brother limping back to his room in the evening, the candles throwing his bruised face into sharp relief, and he would slink back into his room and keep quiet.

No, Regulus Black was not brave.

Slowly, he came to learn that maybe bravery was stupidity. With every bruise that marred his brother's body, he learned to grow resentful of Sirius's obstinate volume. He would flinch whenever his brother opened his mouth, knowing already the outcome. Instead of hiding behind his brother, as Regulus grew older, he learned to stay at the side of the room – he became spectator rather than civilian. He watched silently, no longer needing protection, nor seeking it out. He learned, and what a bitter revelation it was, that his brother would play the hero whether he needed saving or not.

When Sirius left him for Hogwarts, Regulus was faced with a choice: be brave or survive. He chose survival.

He allowed his mother to groom him into the perfect Pureblood son. He became heir and in doing so, he chose the cold love of the Black family that had long eluded him. If he nodded silently along to her hateful rhetoric, he would be rewarded with the coolness of her fingers smoothing down his hair, her cooing voice no longer harsh as she told him what a pure, lovely boy he was. If he enthusiastically agreed with his father's take on the Muggles on the street, he would be given a shot glass of expensive firewhiskey to clink with his father's glass in his study. It burned quite badly when he swallowed it, but his father chuckled at his boyish spluttering, and the warmth of the alcohol felt as close to an embrace as he might get. He learned to survive in the big, dark, lonely house that had never been a home to him – without his brother.

He remembered the last night of their kinship, when he climbed into Sirius's bed in the middle of the night, tucking the covers over his head and feeling the familiar warmth of his brother next to him.

"Not still scared of the dark are you, Reg?" his brother asked groggily.

At his silence, Sirius lifted the cover and peered at him. Regulus flushed and yanked the blanket back over his head.

"No!"

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

At that, Regulus fell silent, but his fingers tightened on the blanket. His brother sighed.

"Don't be nervous, Reg," he murmured. "It's a long train ride but wait until you see the castle from the lake. It makes it all worth it. Even the homework is worth it. You'll finally have a home."

Regulus still didn't reply.

"And we'll be together again. I can't wait for you to meet James. You're going to love him, he's the biggest dope but wickedly funny. And Remus-"

It wasn't often that Sirius gave him a glimpse into his other life, and he felt a prickle of jealousy run up his neck.

"What if we're not together?"

There was a beat. Regulus could hear his brother breathing beside him, and feel every rise and fall of his chest. He peeked out of the blanket to see Sirius's lines were pressed together.

"The Sorting Hat won't put you where you don't belong," said Sirius finally, relaxing back into the bed. "You're my brother, after all."

And my parent's son.

But Regulus didn't voice that concern. It had been eating away at him all summer, when the reality had hit that he would be starting school in the fall. The soaring euphoria of being at Hogwarts with Sirius had quickly dropped into a heavy dread.

"What if I belong in Slytherin?"

The question fell from his mouth before he could stop it, his terror muffled by the blanket and the darkness.

Sirius didn't say anything for a moment. Then he shuffled, reaching over his brother's prone body, and whispering something. Even through the dark, heavy covers, Regulus could see the glow. He tentatively lifted his head.

There was a little orb of light sitting at his bedside, warm and pulsing. He reached out to touch it, wiggling his fingers through the wispy strands of light, in awe as he felt nothing but warm air even as the light danced around the intrusion.

Sirius put his wand back down and rolled over, pulling the covers up over his shoulder.

"You can ask the Hat to not put you in Slytherin," said Sirius, after a while, when both boys had almost fallen back to sleep. "You can ask it to put you with me."

Regulus felt heavy with sleep and nerves, and he burrowed closer into the warmth of his brother's back.

"Get some sleep, Reg. You've got a big day tomorrow."

The light had gone out come sunrise, and it had never been lit again.

He never got over his fear of the dark, but he learned to stop being so foolishly brave about it. He learned it was where he belonged, in darkness and dungeons as black as his namesake. He had been sorted into Slytherin, and had avoided the hurt look in his brother's eyes as he made his way from the stool to the table on the far end of the hall.

"- another Black, ey? I've always known where to put you. But the last Black made me reconsider my habits… You're quieter than your brother, but I can see everything inside your head… Don't want to rock the boat, ey? You're not a fan of the suicidally brave act. Well, well, in that case you had better get over that fear of the dark if you want to be in –

SLYTHERIN!"

His green tie flapped as he moved down the corridor, late for Transfiguration. It wasn't his best subject, and McGonagall had never really liked him. She didn't seem to like many people –

Except for his brother, of course.

He hoisted his bag up further on his shoulder, keeping his eyes on his feet, and made hard contact with another body. His bag went flying across the corridor, books and quills spilling out.

"Watch it," he snarled.

Marlene fixed her uniform. "Steady on, tiger."

But his eyes had caught sight of his brother, righting the girl that had barged into him, his hands at her elbow and waist.

Sirius was frowning. "Reg, you should watch where you're going."

"You should watch the company you keep. Blood traitors and mudbloods-" he nodded at Marlene, and Mary, who had retreated a little out of the way. She played with the rings on her index finger, eyes flicking between the two brothers.

"Don't, Reg," he said in a low voice. "This isn't you-"

All worry about being late for McGonagall's class flew from his mind, and Regulus laughed bitterly. "How would you know who I am anymore? This is the most you've said to me in years!"

Sirius swallowed thickly. "I had to get out-"

The desperation in his voice caught on the castle stone, echoing. It was the most they had spoken since that summer he had packed his bags and left his brother alone in that place. They had become strangers, not even schoolmates, dancing around one another like ghosts.

Sirius felt inclined to explain. He took a step forward. "I left-"

"Me."

Regulus took a step backward to match him, and Sirius stopped. In a voice so quiet, so that only his brother could catch it, he said, "You left me."

A muscle ticked in Sirius's jaw. His eyes flicked to his brother's green tie and back. "You seemed to be perfectly fine where you were," he said finally, in a voice so tight it almost broke.

Regulus flushed darkly.

Sirius blinked, as if remembering himself, and he turned and gestured for the girls to follow him.

Regulus watched his brother leave again, and felt the panic rising fast in his throat.

"Uncle Alphard is dead," he called, stepping forward, and Sirius froze in place.

His shaking hands clenched into fists. "How?"

"Mother said old age-"

"He was 38!" Sirius roared, and this time, it was Marlene that had to grab hold of him as he spun on his heel and started towards his brother.

Regulus flinched. He was not above showing his fear.

"They killed him!" yelled Sirius, spit flying across the corridor. "You know they did! Just like they blasted him off the tapestry, they blasted him off the face of the earth, the murdering scum-!"

"Sirius," Marlene cut through his furious raving, and he gripped her arm so tightly his fingers went white. "Let's go to Herbology."

Regulus missed what secret, silent communication they must have held in just that one look, and he clenched his jaw and looked away.

Sirius relaxed, and he patted Marlene's arm to let her know she could let him go. He drew in a long breath and ran a hand through his hair so it would fall back into perfect place. Without another word, he set off down the corridor with Marlene. He didn't look back.

Regulus stood for a moment longer. The corridor felt vast and cold in his brother's wake. He hadn't meant to tell him like this. He'd only received the letter from his mother at breakfast. He'd meant to find a better way to tell Sirius, who had always loved their Uncle Alphard – loved him like a father even. It had just slipped out of him.

He gripped his hair and pulled and let out a silent scream – no sound came out of his open, agonised mouth. Then, he dropped to his knees and started collecting his belongings, still strewn across the floor.

Regulus hadn't noticed she was still there until she handed him some of his books. His eyes shot to her. "I don't need your help."

Mary shrugged and collected some more of his things, a broken quill, his House scarf. He didn't mention it again, especially not when he picked up a cracked ink pot that exploded over him. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a pained, shuddering breath.

He heard, rather than saw, Mary pile the rest of his books at his side. Top of the pile was a small, purple book, with gold embossed lettering. Peter Pan. Muggle fiction. Her eyes lingered on it but she knew better than to say anything.

Eyes flying open, Regulus snapped, "What are you still doing here, Mudblood?"

True to her Gryffindor tie, she didn't falter, simply sat back on her heels and considered him for a moment. Then she got to her feet.

"For what it's worth," she said quietly, "I'm sorry about your uncle."

And she left Regulus kneeling on the floor, black ink still drying on his hands.

oOo

They were late to Herbology. Professor Sprout didn't seem to mind, waving them in as she continued talking. They found an empty station and pulled out their equipment. Sirius's trowel clattered loudly as he threw it on the table. A few of his classmates glanced at him.

Marlene took hold of his hand before he could make more noise and just held it. She could feel his pulse still racing. Only when he twisted his hand to squeeze hers did she let him go.

"I'd give anything to get rid of my brothers," she whispered. "If only they'd talk to me less! You know how much I long to be an only child."

Sirius didn't reply. His nostrils flared. He was still shaking.

"Families fight," said Marlene softly.

"When my family fights, you get blasted off the tree," Sirius managed to get out, under his breath,

She noticed Mary sneak in behind Sprout and frowned. The other girl ducked her head and joined Frank Longbottom at the station in front of them.

"Your family aren't raging psychopaths, Marls," said Sirius.

She looked at him incredulously. "You've met my brothers! Lockie tried to kill Tavish three separate ways this summer – he wanted to know what it was like to be an individual. They're twins! It was only when my mother noticed Tav danging upside down outside the bathroom window that she put an end to it!"

Marlene added, rather fondly, "They remind me of you and James."

That managed to wring a smile from him. "I've only tried to kill James once, Marls. I'd have succeeded if I'd tried a second – don't compare me to amateurs."

She grinned and bumped her shoulder into his. He smirked down at her and nudged her back.

"- to grow your Asphodel so that it may be used in Potions, it needs some unique potting conditions. Asphodels live off death," Sprout was saying as they both tuned in. "So I have a number of soil enhancers for you to experiment with, including Thestral faeces and-"

"Professor," said Sirius indignantly, covering his nose as the buckets were levitated across the greenhouse to each of the stations. "Is that shit?"

Professor Sprout's beaming pink face split into a wide smile. "Unfortunately so, Mr Black!"

Sirius pulled a face and Sprout laughed jovially.

"Six years you've been taking this class, Black, and you still don't like getting your hands dirty!"

She was still chuckling as she finished distributing the other soil enhancers to each pair.

Sirius yanked on his dragonhide gloves. "I don't mind getting my hands dirty," he muttered. "It's when it gets under the nail I don't like."

Marlene snorted but didn't say anything, and they got to work, potting their multiple asphodel bulbs with various enhancers that seemed to get stranger and stranger.

"Professor," one of the Slytherins, Mulciber, called. He was blockheaded with shaved blond hair and chilling blue eyes. His nose wrinkled as Snape, his partner, scooped some of the thestral dung into their pot. "What is a thestral?"

"Good question, Mulciber! Can anyone answer him?"

Frank glanced around the greenhouse, before offering, "They look a bit like horses, but with wings. The descriptions say they're black and skeletal." He glanced around again before his eyes fell to his hands. "I wouldn't know. You can only see them if you've seen death."

"They pull the carriages," said Mary quietly.

Mulciber sneered at her. "The carriages pull themselves."

Sprout frowned. "No, I believe Miss MacDonald is right. Professor Dumbledore did say something from the Forest pulled the carriages each year. Like Mr Longbottom, I am fortunate to not be able to see them."

But Mulciber wasn't done. "Why would a Mudblood be able to see them?"

"Mr Mulciber!" Sprout admonished sharply. "Detention-"

"Say that word again and you'll be seeing one sooner than you think," snarled Marlene, lunging at him, trowel still in hand.

Sirius grabbed her in the nick of time. He glanced over his shoulder. "Saved your life there," he told Mulciber, whose lip curled.

"It didn't feel very threatened."

As Marlene backed down, Sirius flicked his wand and the pot of thestral dung tipped into Mulciber's chest.

"Now, Mr Black-" Sprout was turning purple. "I will see you in detention as well!"

"That wasn't a threat," said Sirius casually. "That was an accident. You should pick your partners a bit more carefully next time. As you can see, Snivellus is very slippery."

Mulciber seethed. "You don't know what's coming your way, Black. I don't know how your brother stands being related to a Blood Traitor."

Sprout had had enough. She forcefully stamped her foot and the glass went flying out of the greenhouse's window panes. Some of the students shrieked, others shielded their heads.

"Enough! I will not tolerate such vile language in my class. Detention, both of you-"

"I didn't use any vile language," snapped Sirius. His face was still dark. There was a deep blush staining his cheeks.

"You know what you did, Mr Black!" Sprout waggled a finger at him. "Don't make me regret letting you onto my course."

With that, she said heatedly, "Reparo!" and the glass returned to the greenhouse. The class continued in a stony silence.

Mary turned around after a moment or two. "You didn't have to do that," she said pointedly. "He was looking for a rise."

"And I gave him one," huffed Marlene, folding her arms and stubbornly refusing to do any more work. "I'm sorry."

Sirius offered no such apology. He also had his arms crossed. "I didn't know you could see the thestrals."

Mary blinked at him. Then she smiled sadly. "My dad. Mine collapsed on him, just as I got there to see him finish work. We were meant to be going for ice cream."

Sirius swallowed. "I don't know what a mine is but it sounds terrible."

She nodded.

"I sometimes wonder what he'd think of all this. It happened before I got my Hogwarts letter."

"He'd think you were cool as fuck," said Marlene bluntly.

At that, Mary burst out laughing, tipping her head back. Sprout looked over but her face softened when she saw who it was. Mary's eyes were bright and crinkled when they settled back on her friends. "I hope so."

"What do they look like?" asked Frank quietly beside her. He stuttered a little when she looked at him. "Sorry. You, uh, don't have to answer that. I was just curious."

"They're quite beautiful, really," said Mary, deep in thought. "I think some people see them as bad omens, but there's something comforting about them. They're gentle, too."

"So long as they smell better than this," Sirius grimaced, pulling his trowel through the bucket of faeces.

"Like shit?" supplied Mary. She laughed again. "You've been in the carriages. Did it smell like shit?"

"I just thought that was James."

Marlene, and even Frank, laughed.

Sprout gave them the ten minute warning.

Marlene's eyes widened. "Frank! I need your help. I'm not as good as you at all this plant stuff. Won't you help a girl out?"

She leaned across the station to plead with him. Frank adamantly kept his eyes on hers. His ears went pink.

"Marls… If you actually did the reading, you might find it easier."

She groaned dramatically, going limp on the desk. "It's so hard to find the time, what with keeping the boys in check and making sure Lily hasn't weakened and, in a fit of madness, said yes to a date with Potter-!"

"Lily's weakening?" Sirius perked up.

Marlene held her hand out to cover his face. "Not the point, kitten. I need the pass in Herbology because I'm definitely not going to get it in Potions-"

"Alright," Frank relented, smiling dopily. He came around to her station and helped her pot the Asphodel bulb in a mix of thestral dung (which he scooped of course), gravestone rockery, and, to her surprise, a bit of liquid moonlight.

"Secret ingredient," he explained, almost bashful.

"You're a genius, Longbottom." She grabbed his face and kissed his cheek hard. Soil clung to where she'd touched him but he didn't seem to mind.

Dazed, he shook his head at her. "You're just lazy."

"No, but you really bring out the best in me."

When the bell rang, Sprout did the rounds to inspect their nursing plants. She was especially pleased with Marlene's, tutting in disappointment at Sirius's offering, which drooped so much he had to hold it up.

"So much for partner work!" he cried when they began their ascent back up to the castle. "You're a snake, McKinnon. You left me to the dogs there."

Marlene patted his arm. "Next time, I'll let you flirt with Frank as though your grades depend on it."

"My grades do depend on it!"

"Good, then it should be easy for you."

They continued this bickering all the way to the Gryffindor table, where Sirius bounded off to grab James, who choked on his orange juice at the sudden assault.

Marlene and Mary slipped onto the bench, waiting for Lily to arrive from Ancient Runes.

"You're quiet," said Marlene, bumping her shoulder and shooting her a small smile. "I'm sorry about your dad. I knew he'd passed… I didn't know you'd seen it. That must've been awful, I can't imagine having to watch-"

She stopped herself, taking a bite of her sandwich to shut herself up.

Mary

"And ignore Mulciber," said Marlene once she'd swallowed her food. "You know what he's like-"

"What did Mulciber do?"

Lily sat down opposite them, plopping her bag on the seat next to her. She eyed the pair of them.

Mary wrinkled her nose. "Just the usual. Mudbloods, Blood Traitors – only this time, Sirius covered him in thestral shit for it."

She grinned at that bit. Lily choked on her juice, her head shooting to look up the table. James was already looking at her, and they both flushed pink and looked away.

"Saw that," said Marlene, taking another bite of her sandwich to prevent herself from sticking her foot in it.

"Not like Black to save the day," Lily rolled her eyes, steering the subject back onto the conversation's previous topic.

"Got detention for it, of course."

"He did soil a man!"

"Mulciber isn't a man," Marlene protested. "He's a monster."

Lily and Mary shared a look. "He's a seventeen year old boy," Lily began.

Marlene shook her head, mouth full, waving her baguette at the pair of them, and crumbs rained down onto the table. "Exactly! Absolutely soulless…"

"No, just Slytherin," said Mary, and her eyes found the table in question.

"Potato, potato."

But something gnawed at her, and she felt a little bit guilty for the comparison. Her gaze landed on one Slytherin in particular, Sirius's brother. He looked so much like Sirius, or half of Sirius. He was still young, in fourth or fifth year she thought. But he was scrawny where Sirius was broad, hair short and blunt where Sirius's flowed freely to his chin, his eyes were dark and downcast where Sirius's were always lifted and lively. He was like a smudge up to his brother, and she wondered if he knew it.

Mary remembered the book she'd retrieved for him. It was Muggle fiction – she knew because her father had read it to her as a child. It was about magic, and pirates, and fairies, and flying, and lost boys.

He caught her staring and froze, caught in the headlights. She cleared her throat and looked away, helping herself to some fruit and nodding along to whatever story Marlene was telling now.

She allowed herself to look back over at the Slytherin table after a moment or two, but he was gone.

AN: Wow, three years. It's been a long time since I thought about this fic. I graduated from uni in that time and now, entering adult world, I felt drawn back into fanfiction, and the escapism it gave me. Writing this, and returning to these characters, has given me a purpose I felt was lacking. The power of writing. I hope there are still people out there that would like to read this fic. I feel a new sense of duty to finishing it, or at least telling as much of their story as I feel I can. Take care, E x