Tuesday, January 17, 1978
An eerie silence pervaded the deserted corridors as James and Lily patrolled the castle. Students seemed to be staying in their dormitories, because all the usual hiding places for couples and rule breakers were empty. Lily frowned as she peered behind a statue and her wand illuminated the empty stone floor.
"Do you think students are scared to wander around at night?" she asked as they continued along the Charms corridor.
"Probably." James glanced sideways at her. The flickering torchlight made her look even paler than usual, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Silly, isn't it? Who could be scared when we're out here keeping the castle safe?"
Lily didn't answer. James took in the tight set of her mouth and the faint circles under her eyes, and he felt the urge to protect her. With a start he realized that he would feel this way for the foreseeable future, or for the rest of his life, maybe.
"Hey." James drew to a stop and put a hand on her arm. "If things ever go sideways, you know I'd never let anything happen to you. Not that you'd even need my help, mind you. I think you're better at dueling than I am these days."
She smiled and some of the tension in her body melted away.
"That's rubbish. You're faster than I am."
He shook his head, remembering the last time he had watched her duel Sirius. The spells whizzed back and forth with such dizzying speed that James had to look away.
"There's no way I'm faster. I was watching you the other night. Pads could barely keep up."
The glow of pride that lit up her face at his words made him momentarily forget how worried and exhausted she looked.
"You're just saying that," she insisted. "You have to be nice to me because I'm your girlfriend and you love me."
He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers lingering in her hair as he kissed her.
"I do love you, but that's not why I'm saying it. I'm saying it because it's true." He grabbed her hand and set off down the corridor again. "I'll prove it to you if you don't believe me."
He led her to an empty classroom, then checked the map before locking the door behind them and casting a Muffliato. Lily watched with a bemused smile on her face as he conjured the usual pillows to cushion them if they fell.
"You're really going to duel me?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "Why not? Don't you want to wipe this arrogant grin off my face?"
She raised her eyebrows. "You said you wouldn't duel me because you didn't think you'd be able to hex me."
James hesitated. He had refused to challenge her up until now, because he couldn't bring himself to hurl spells at her, even just for practice. But he was willing to make an exception if it meant building her confidence and lifting some of the weight from her slim, freckled shoulders.
"Maybe I've had a change of heart," he said with a shrug. "Maybe I want revenge after you ate the last of the candy my mum sent us for Christmas. Or maybe I just like proving that I'm right. Either way, wand at the ready, Evans."
He drew his wand and took a few steps back, then watched Lily follow suit. As they faced off against each other, he saw her amusement give way to focused determination as she slipped off her shoes and kicked them out of the way. She narrowed her eyes in concentration as the tip of her tongue poked out the side of her mouth, and he had to wrench his gaze away from her lips. Focus, Potter. His eyes met Lily's, and together they mouthed three, two, one.
Lily's wand jabbed the air, and James darted to the left just in time to avoid her spell. Expelliarmus, he thought, jerking his wand sideways and straight down. The jet of light whooshed over her head, stirring her hair before it ricocheted off the door and knocked over a desk. The corners of Lily's mouth twitched up into a smile; she raised her eyebrows, and he gave a tiny shrug, and then they were darting around as spells flew back and forth faster than either of them could follow. The air was thick with red light and the crash of spells against the stone walls. James gave up on nonverbal spells, shouting the incantations and brandishing his wand so hard that his knuckles turned white. A bead of sweat rolled down his face, but he couldn't stop to wipe it away. Time had stopped, stretching out between them. Everything faded into the background until it was just the two of them and their wands and the incessant onslaught of spells.
"Expelliarmus!" they shouted almost in unison, and James watched, transfixed, as both wands flew up into the air and landed on opposite sides of the room.
For a moment neither of them spoke. James wiped sweat from his forehead, his eyes locked on Lily's as she gasped for breath and pushed damp hair out of her eyes. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her upper lip, and he thought he had never seen her look so beautiful.
Then, without making the conscious decision to do so, James stumbled forward and pulled her into his arms. Her eyes blazed as she scrabbled at his hair, his clothes, anything she could get her hands on. His sweat mingled with hers and he tasted salt on her lips as she gently pushed him backwards until his back met the rough stone wall.
"Told you I'm not faster than you," she whispered.
Her warm breath tickled his ear, making him shiver.
"I think you were going easy on me," he murmured.
She opened her mouth to argue, but he pressed his lips against hers, ending the conversation.
Friday, January 20, 1978
Sirius was pouring a second cup of coffee when he heard the flutter of wings that announced the mail's arrival. As an owl dropped a copy of The Daily Prophet onto the table in front of Lily, he made a grab for it, but she snatched it out of his reach. A few minutes later he stopped aiming bits of bacon at Mary's tea and looked over at Lily, hoping to steal the paper when she looked away to exchange longing glances with James. But she wasn't looking at James. Instead she was glued to a sheet of pale pink stationary with a wistful expression on her face.
"Evans, if you're not going to read that newspaper, hand it over."
Sirius held his hand out for the newspaper, but Lily didn't move. Frowning, he leaned over, intending to grab the newspaper from her hands, but the letter in her hands caught his eye. Without meaning to, he began to read the neat, careful cursive on the page.
Dear Lily,
That joke was awful. However, going along with the fish theme…
Did you hear about the man who handled raw fish?
He got salmonella.
Thank you for the gift. I meant to send this sooner, but—
"Can I help you?"
Sirius snapped his head up and saw Lily watching him with an amused expression on her face. The Daily Prophet lay untouched near her water goblet, so he reached for it and flashed her a grin.
"Just hoping to read about how fucked up the world is while you're sidetracked reading your letter." He unfolded the newspaper, then added, "Nice of her to finally thank you for the Christmas gift."
She raised her eyebrows. "Nosy much?" She shot him an irritated look, but as she glanced back down at the letter her face relaxed into a smile. "She said she wants to meet James over Easter." She reached out to touch James's arm, her eyes shining with hope. "You'll do it, won't you?"
James put a protective arm around her shoulders. "Of course I will, but if she makes you cry again, that's it." He took a bite of toast and added, "Do I get to meet her tosser of a fiancée, too?"
Lily's face darkened. "I assume so." She scowled down at the letter, but then she took a deep breath and rearranged her face into a neutral expression. "No, I'm going to be nice. If she's going to give you a chance, I owe her the same courtesy."
"But if he's rude to you, please feel free to throw a napkin at him again," James urged, running a hand through his hair. "I'd love to see that."
"And she's sent me a gift… Oh, no, it's hideous." She grimaced and held up a brown jumper patterned with geometric shapes in shades of yellow and orange.
James's eyes widened. "Bloody hell, Moony wouldn't even wear that," he said, laughing.
Remus raised his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Sirius dropped his gaze to the newspaper in front of him as the exchange continued. He stared down at a story about a new member of the Wizengamot, but his eyes stayed fixed on the same sentence. A vague ache tightened his chest, and he sneaked a glance at the Slytherin table before he could stop himself. He scanned the long stretch of students, all of them chatting and opening mail as they spooned porridge into their mouths, until he caught sight of his brother. Regulus was pale and solemn as he stared down at his plate. The ache sharpened until Sirius tore his gaze away. He clenched his hand into a fist until his fingernails dug into his palms, reading and re-reading the first sentence of the Wizengamot article to focus his mind on anything besides the feelings he didn't want to acknowledge. He's not your brother. Not anymore.
"Black?" Sirius felt something nudge his shoulder and looked up to see Mary peering at him with her head tilted sideways. "Anything in there that's going to ruin my day?"
He shook his head and shoved the newspaper in Lily's direction. "No, just a bunch of boring rubbish today. You done eating? Let's go have a cigarette before class."
He stood and strode across the Great Hall, keeping his eyes fixed in front of him without straying to the Slytherin table. By the time he walked into class, stinking of cigarettes and shivering slightly, he had managed to shove all thoughts of Regulus from his mind.
That dull ache crept back later as he sat in front of the common room fire, paging through one of James's Quidditch magazines while Mary painted her nails and Lily played Exploding Snap with Remus and Peter. He turned the page and feigned interest in an interview with Rosie Roberts, the Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies, but he soon tossed the magazine aside in frustration.
"I'll be right back," he said, getting to his feet and taking care not to knock over Mary's bottle of nail polish.
"Bring down some chocolate," she said, wiping away a smudge of red nail polish from her cuticle.
When Sirius reached the dormitory, he pulled the door shut behind him and considered locking it before deciding that would arouse suspicion if someone did try to come in. Instead, he pulled the Marauder's Map from James's trunk and sat on the floor by the window with his back facing the door. He tapped the parchment and murmured "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," then studied the room labeled Slytherin Common Room. There it was: the little dot bearing the name Regulus Black, all alone in what must be his dormitory. Sirius's finger trailed across the parchment and came to rest next to his brother's name as he pictured the joy on Lily's face that morning.
It's not the same, he thought. It's not even remotely the same. Lily's sister has been cruel, fueled by jealousy and hurt, but that was nothing compared with what Regulus had done. It's one thing to keep your sister out of your wedding, and another to throw your lot in with a group of blood supremacists. You absolute fucking idiot, Reg.
Sirius thought about the last time he had spoken to Regulus. You're not my brother anymore, Regulus had said. The phrase echoed in Sirius's head as he pictured the cold, closed-off look on Regulus's face. Despite his best efforts to keep his thoughts at bay, he wondered what would happen if he apologized like Lily had done. Maybe a letter would force Regulus to remember the relationship they once had. Or would he set fire to it or toss it away, unopened?
It doesn't matter either way, because I'm not writing him a stupid bloody letter.
Sirius started as he heard footsteps padding across the floor.
"I said I'd be right back, Macdonald," he snapped, but when he turned he saw Lily rather than Mary. "Oh."
"What's he doing?" she asked, nodding at the map.
Sirius dropped the map onto the floor, then pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.
"What's who doing?"
Lily crossed the room and sat on the floor beside him. Sirius glanced sideways at her and offered her the pack of cigarettes.
"Don't give me that rubbish," she said, selecting a cigarette from the pack. "I know you were checking up on Regulus."
"Mind your own fucking business, Evans."
"I've tried that," she said with a wry smile. "It doesn't work for me."
"That's the understatement of the year."
He exhaled a long stream of smoke and thought about the way Regulus used to slip into bed beside him after he'd had a nightmare. The creak of the door as he crept into Sirius's room, the gentle patter of his bare feet against the floor, his grey eyes wide with terror in the near-darkness, it all came rushing back in vivid, excruciating detail. Regulus would lay stiff and straight with the blankets tucked up to his chin, while Sirius flung out his arms and legs and kicked off the blankets as he slept. As Regulus fell asleep, his shoulders shaking with sobs, Sirius would whisper It's okay, it's okay. Even then he knew how far from okay they were.
"I'm sorry," Lily said, resting her head on his shoulder.
Sirius shook off the haze of memory and sighed. "It's okay, I've pretty much accepted the fact that you're going to be meddling in my business for the rest of my life."
Her shoulder bumped against his as she laughed. "No, I mean, I'm sorry for breaking our unspoken pact not to bother with our shit siblings."
Sirius thought about the first cigarette they had ever shared after Lily had stopped him from dueling Regulus in the corridor. They had sat on the front steps, hunched against the cold, as Lily coughed after every drag and told him about her sister. He could still hear her advice ringing in his head: You can't blame yourself for other people's choices. He and Lily had been commiserating about their siblings for over a year now, and to his surprise he found he did feel a hint of disappointment that she was rebuilding her relationship with Petunia. No, disappointment was the wrong word. He was happy for her, yet there was a twinge in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't ignore. I'm jealous, he realized as he took another long drag on his cigarette. What a bloody idiotic thing to be jealous about.
"Don't be stupid. You don't have to apologize for giving it another go with your sister, just because Reg and I haven't spoken in almost a year. Although for what it's worth, I don't think you should get your hopes up."
She picked her head up to frown at him. "You don't think we can fix our relationship?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, what the fuck do I know? I've never had a sister. I'm just saying, she said some pretty awful things to you. And just because she's willing to play nice now when it suits her doesn't mean she won't go back to calling you a freak." He paused to take a drag on the cigarette, then blew out a long stream of smoke and watched it dissipate into the air. "I just don't want to see you get hurt, because for some bloody reason I've grown to like you, even though you don't know how to mind your own business and you might be the most infuriating person I've ever met."
Lily's face softened, and before he could stop her she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his shoulder.
"Don't make it a big thing, Evans," he grumbled into her hair, but she ignored him and tightened her arms around him.
"There's no chance I'm the most infuriating person you've ever met," she said when she pulled away, a wide grin spreading across her face. "You've met yourself, right?"
"Sod you," he muttered, but the warmth of her embrace had eased the ache in his chest.
She tapped her cigarette against the windowsill to dispel a bit of ash. "I'm going to make just one suggestion, and then I'm going to make an effort to mind my own business for the rest of the night."
He raised his eyebrows. "I'll believe it when I see it."
"If you could hold off on the snarky comments, I was going to say you could write Regulus a letter."
"No," he said before she had even finished speaking.
"Just think about it. You don't even have to give it to him if you don't want to. But if you take some time and write down all the things you want him to know, I think it might make you feel better. And then you can give it to him, or burn it, or toss it into your trunk and forget about it until you're digging through looking for your emergency stash of firewhisky or Mary's favorite bra or something."
He mulled this over for a minute, then stubbed out his cigarette and got to his feet. "That's a nice thought, Evans, but I'm not fucking doing that." He offered her a hand up and she let him pull her to her feet. "Come on, let's go back down to the common room before everyone assumes we're having some sort of heart-to-heart like a couple of sentimental sods."
Despite his quick dismissal of the suggestion, Sirius couldn't shake the idea of writing a letter. Hours later after he had spent over an hour pretending to sleep, he eased his arm out from under Mary's head and slipped out of bed. Careful not to make unnecessary noise, he grabbed his school bag and the map. After a moment's hesitation he slipped his flask into his pocket, deciding that this was not the sort of thing he wanted to do sober.
The common room was deserted, and Sirius considered stretching out on the floor in front of the dying fire, but he couldn't stand the thought of getting caught writing the stupid bloody letter. Instead he checked the map before leaving the common room and setting off down the corridor. The castle was silent, and he made it to the fourth floor without running into anyone. He took a quick glance around before tapping the mirror that concealed a secret passageway and climbing through into the hidden room.
The air was chilly in the cavernous room, but Sirius ignored the cold as he sat down with his back against the stone wall and took parchment, quill, and ink from his bag. He took a sip from his flask, then lit a cigarette and sat gazing down at the blank parchment. There was so much to say, perhaps too much for a single letter, and yet he had no idea where to start.
He took another sip from the flask, then set it down and drummed his fingers against the side of his face as he thought. The easiest approach would be to start with how angry he was. He could compose an entire letter just on that topic, but it seemed bold to jump right into a full rant without working up to it. Besides, Regulus might stop reading a letter that began Dear Reg, You're a real arsehole and I'd like to punch your stupid fucking face.
Not that it even matters, Sirius thought as he took a deep drag on his cigarette, seeing as I'm not giving him the bloody letter anyway.
He took another sip from the flask and dipped his quill in the ink, scowling as a less desirable option occurred to him. I could start with an apology. He recalled the betrayal and sorrow on his brother's face the night Sirius had left Grimmauld Place, and his words the next time they had talked months later: You can be so bloody selfish, Sirius. I bet you never even bothered to think about what it was like for me after you left. But he had thought about it, every single day, and even now he was racked with guilt for leaving his brother behind to face their parents alone.
It was no use, though. No matter how guilty he felt, he couldn't bring himself to launch right into an apology, not after all this time and all the accusations they had hurled at each other. The parchment remained unmarred save for several droplets of ink that had dripped from the quill, the blank page reminding Sirius of just how useless this whole endeavor was. He shoved the parchment aside, resolving to go back to the common room when he had finished his cigarette.
As he took one final drag before putting the cigarette out against the rough stone wall, a memory floated back to Sirius out of the depths of his mind. He hadn't thought about this in ages, yet it replayed in his head in perfect, vivid detail.
"Come on, Reg," Sirius called from his position on the edge of the roof. "Just climb out of the window and I'll pull you up."
Regulus peered up at him from the window below, his gray eyes wide with fear.
"Last time I almost fell," he said, looking down at the long drop to the London street below.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "That's 'cause last time you didn't hold on tight enough. Come on, it'll be fine."
Regulus's lips formed a tight, determined line, as he nodded. He turned around and braced himself against the sides of the window as he stepped onto the windowsill, then reached up until Sirius grasped his hand.
"Give me your other hand," Sirius said, stretching his arm as far as it would go.
Regulus didn't reply. His eyes were locked on the street below, and his whole body was rigid with terror, except for his hand trembling as he clung to the edge of the window. Sirius tightened his grip on his brother's clammy fingers and moved even closer to the edge of the roof.
"Come on, Reg, you're fine."
Regulus forced himself to look up, then moved his hand with slow, painstaking movements until he grabbed Sirius's outstretched hand.
"Hold on tight," Sirius warned, then grunted with effort as he hauled his brother up onto the roof. "See? Told you it would be fine."
Regulus got to his feet and brushed dirt from his trousers, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe his sweaty hands.
"You know you're about to get your hands dirty again, right?" Sirius said as he led the way over to the other side of the roof and handed Regulus a Dungbomb.
A sheepish smile spread across Regulus's face. "I guess I didn't think about that."
The two of them gazed down at the street below them, breathing in the smell of exhaust as the sun beat down on their heads. Sirius nudged Regulus as the boy from number ten pedaled up the street on his new bicycle.
"You go first," Sirius said, nodding at the Dungbomb in his brother's hand. "Wait until he's right below us, and put some force behind it so it really splats."
Regulus hesitated. "You sure we won't get in trouble?"
Sirius made an impatient hand motion. "It'll be fine. Mum's only just left for tea at Auntie Druella's, she'll be gone ages. Dad probably won't come out of his study until dinner. And Kreacher's not going to tell on us. Come on, throw your dung bomb. I want to see the look on that kid's face when shit starts falling from the sky."
Sirius saw his brother's eyebrows arch, but he didn't chide him for swearing. Keeping his eyes fixed on the progress of the bicycle below, Regulus raised his hand above his head and sent the Dungbomb hurtling to the ground. It landed on the pavement with a satisfying squelch and spattered over the bicycle and its occupant. The boy hopped off his bicycle and looked up, his face twisted in anger, but Sirius dragged Regulus down before they could be spotted. They both lay on the hot surface of the roof in a tangle of limbs, howling with laughter.
"Did you see his face?" Regulus said. His hands were smeared with the remains of the Dungbomb, but he was laughing too hard to care about cleanliness. "That was a good throw, wasn't it, Sirius?"
"Great throw," Sirius said, pushing himself up into a seated position. "It serves him right. He threw a rock at Auriga the other day." Sirius had been planning this rooftop attack since he had spotted the neighbor boy aim a rock at the family owl as she swooped in through the kitchen window with her beak clamped over a dead mouse. "I don't think I can do better than your throw, to be honest, but it doesn't hurt to try."
He got to his feet and helped Regulus up before taking aim with his Dungbomb so it fell in a graceful arc to explode on number ten's front steps.
A smile tugged at Sirius's lips as he recalled the glee on Regulus's face and the shouts of indignation from the neighbor. He took another sip from the flask, then dipped his quill into the ink and began to write.
Dear Regulus,
You're probably never going to read this letter, and I don't even know why I'm bothering to write the damn thing. It's probably going to end up hidden at the bottom of my trunk, and even if I give it to you you're probably going to chuck it straight into the bin. But it's two am and I can't sleep, and I'm a little drunk (what else is fucking new), so fuck it. I'm going to write you a stupid bloody letter.
I dunno what made me think of it, but do you remember that day we climbed up onto the roof and threw Dungbombs at that tosser from two doors down? I've never forgotten the look on his face…