It was three-fifty in the morning, and Regulus was thrashing in bed. Lyra switched on a light, before gently placing a hand on his arm.
"Reg," she murmured, "Reg, wake up, it's just a dream."
Her twin moaned in his sleep, eyelids rapidly twitching.
"Reg, come on, it's okay," Lyra gently shook him, his skin clammy to the touch.
Without warning, Regulus shot a hand out and grabbed Lyra's arm, fingernails digging in.
"Ouch, stop, that hurts," Lyra tried to pry his fingers off, but whatever dream Regulus was having did not let him let go, "Regulus, wake up," she jerked her arm away, his nails leaving crescent shaped indentations.
With a gasp, Regulus' eyes snapped open.
"Reg?" Lyra asked tentatively, massaging her arm.
He sat up slowly, wiping a hand over his face, "Dream?" He asked.
She nodded, "Must've been bad."
He didn't meet her gaze, but made a noncommittal hum.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," he said.
"Do you want me to leave?"
"No," he said again.
"Shove over, then, the floor is cold."
Regulus swung around, sitting up so his back leaned against the wall, and Lyra climbed in next to him. He covered their legs with the blankets, though his feet stuck out the end.
"Last time we did this, we both could fit under the blanket shortways," Lyra laughed softly, "Someone's been eating their vegetables."
Another noncommittal noise, though he bumped her side with an elbow.
"Do you want to sit or talk?"
A pause, then, "You talk."
"Okay," she paused, thinking, "Well, did I ever tell you the story of the time I ran into Sirius on my first prefect patrol? He and his friends were down the seventh floor corridor, you know where that ballet troll painting is? They're coming down there, and not being particularly quiet about it either. I stood in their way, and tried to ask what they were doing, but Sirius picked me up, moved me aside, and kept walking."
She felt Regulus snort.
"I was so surprised, I let all his friends pass me, until the last one - Pettigrew, I think - handed me a sickle, and said 'Don't tell.' I finished my rounds, and returned to check in with the Head Boy who was on duty that night. I told him 'I think my brother and his friends just tried to bribe me to not say that I saw them', and he looked at me, and said 'Well, then I guess you didn't see them," and held up a galleon."
Regulus laughed softly, "Tell me you asked Sirius for more the next time you saw him."
"Oh I definitely did. I told him 'I don't care if you're out in the middle of the night, but next time you'd better make it worth my while,' and then demanded an extra galleon."
His quiet laughter shook the bed slightly, before fading. Lyra leaned against him, head on his shoulder.
"I'm scared, Lyra," Regulus said, a moment later, voice barely audible, "I'm scared of what's happening outside Hogwarts."
"I know," she said, voice equally soft.
"Mother says… Mother wants me to go with her next meeting."
"You're still in school, there's no way -"
"Evan Rosier joined over the summer, and he's a seventh year."
"Evan Rosier is an idiot."
"I thought you liked Rosier."
Lyra scoffed, "I did, and then I realized he's an idiot. You don't want to be like him."
"Well he's not the only one. Severus -"
"Merlin, him too? No wonder he's been avoiding me all term."
"Him, Rosier, Avery, and Mulciber," Regulus counted off on his fingers, "The entire seventh year boys dorm, to be honest."
"Sirius will kill you," Lyra said, "and then he'll bring you back and kill you again."
"Sirius… yeah, you're probably right, but what else am I supposed to do?"
"You could leave."
"I can't leave. Not with Mother. It won't be like Sirius, you know, she won't just let me go."
"What if I took your place?"
"No," Regulus said it sharply, causing Lyra to jerk her head up and sit back.
"I think I can handle myself," Lyra began, but Regulus cut her off.
"No. You're not joining, and that's that. It's not a good place for witches."
"Reg, it's 1977, not 1957. Witches are allowed out of the home, you know."
"I know that, but it's just… you wouldn't…" he sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair, "You remember Wilkes?"
"Fondly," Lyra said dryly, "He learned to keep his hands to himself for a while."
"Well no one at these things would think twice about unsticking his hands for him and helping hunt you down."
"Don't be ridiculous. Besides, I'm a Black, shouldn't that count for something?"
"Less than you think, Narcissa doesn't go because she knows Malfoy can't -"
He broke off as Lyra smacked his shoulder.
"Regulus Arcturus Black you are lying to me," she said, smacking him between words, "You said Mother wanted you to go next time, not that you'd already been."
Regulus ducked away from her, grabbing at her hands, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Are you? Or are you sorry you got caught."
"I…"
Lyra glared at him.
He sighed, "Okay, I'm more sorry I got caught. It's only been a few times. I meant to tell you after the first one, but, I don't know, suddenly it was two and three, and now it's the holidays. They've been on Hogsmeade weekends."
"So that's where everyone's been going. Here I thought there was a party I wasn't invited to."
"Well…"
"But seriously, Reg, if you don't want to be involved…"
"I have to be, you don't understand. You're allowed to be neutral. Everyone knows you're Father's protege, and no one really wants to cross him, so as long as you stay out of it, no one will bother you," the barest hint of bitterness had crept into his tone.
"So speak with Father, tell him -"
"It's too late for that," he clenched his fist, veins popping on his wrist, "I'm supposed to… next time… there's an initiation, of sorts. I don't want to do it, but I don't have a choice anymore."
The breath and fight went out of Lyra. Slowly, she reached down and grabbed his hand, sliding her fingers through his like they used to when they were kids.
"Last time was Avery. Someone, probably someone like Malfoy or Wilkes, or McNair, brought a muggle man. They all took turns with the cruciatus curse, and then Avery had to -" his hand trembled slightly in hers, "How am I supposed to do that?"
Lyra tightened her fingers, leaning against Regulus' shoulder again.
"I don't want to do that," he said, his voice cracking, "I don't want… but if I don't… and it's not just that, it's after that. These aren't protests, this isn't like a bad quidditch call, they have an agenda, they're putting people in places where they can make decisions, and I don't like the future they're forecasting."
"Oh Reg," Lyra said softly, "what do we do?"
"We do nothing. You are going to stay out of it, from either side. I know Sirius will try to bring you round-"
"What's that mean, what side is Sirius on?"
"This is our muggle-loving brother, what side do you think he's on? But his side isn't safe either, don't let him convince you otherwise. I will be fine, I can pretend long enough, and either it won't matter because I'll be dead, or… it just won't matter."
"How can you say that? Of course it matters if you're dead."
"Better me than you," Regulus said, and flicked a hand to cast open the curtains. Outside was still dark, but snow cascaded down, covering the street in fluffy white powder.
"Look," he said, "Father will be up soon, and treat us all to his horrible singing, and then we can go downstairs and pretend like everything is normal. That is what I want this year, one last year where everything can be normal."
Lyra, not satisfied with how the conversation was ending but unwilling to push further at the moment, gripped her brother's hand a little tighter.
It was like getting swept away in a rip current. The harder Lyra fought to focus and drive the dementors away, the harder it seemed to become. Old memories and regrets swirled around like eddies, driving her mind farther from where it needed to be.
Somewhere she became aware that Abe and Lupin had conjured Patronuses - a wolf and a goat were herding a widening circle of free space around the three of them. Her crow was dive bombing dementors as they neared the door, pushing them out, though Lyra had no memory of casting anything.
Coward.
Failure.
She'd been supposed to protect her brothers. First she'd let Regulus go, let him throw himself into that twisting nest of vipers despite seeing how little he'd actually wanted to. He hadn't thought he had a choice - she'd known better, she'd known they could have found him a way out of it. But it seemed hard, and had she really understood what he was saying anyways? Had she understood that if she let him go, she wouldn't get him back?
Almost idly she watched Abe's goat ram into a dementor, a softly glowing spray of light bursting from the contact.
Sirius, too, she'd given up on, too tied up in her own ambitions to really try to get him the fair trial he deserved. They said he was in league with the Dark Lord and had betrayed his friends - his chosen family. That was a lie, one she could feel more than deliver proof for. She'd made a few attempts, but after the third, had given up. Some sister she was, letting her brother rot in Azkaban for twelve years.
The haggard looking wolf Patronus tackled another dementor that threatened to swoop in.
Sirius was gone, she realized. No sign of the black dog remained.
"He's not here," Lyra said, but her voice was quiet.
There was a pause in the commotion. A feeling like an icicle to her skull, We seek Black.
"He's not here," Lyra said again, slightly louder. She looked at the ring of black cloaks, finding the one who seemed to be speaking. It was positioned slightly more forward than the rest, one hand extended towards her, otherwise indistinguishable from the rest. The rest of the dementors had stopped circling, stopped trying to break ranks.
But he was before, it said. Its cloak rippled in an invisible wind.
Her crow cawed, swooping alarmingly close to her head. She turned her palms up.
"He's gone now," she said, a wave of tiredness washing over her, the adrenaline of her chase worn off. It was cold, her entire body ached, and part of her longed to just go to sleep.
"Is it speaking?" Lupin's voice from behind.
"Must be," Abe muttered back.
We hunger, the dementor's voice made her shiver, We grow weak and weary of waiting. We seek Black.
Lyra was tired, and angry, she realized. So angry.
"Then get out-" no, her voice was too soft again, try again, "Then get out and seek him," she said, "But for the last time, he's not here," she emphasized her last words by a vicious slash of her wand. A silver burst of light and her crow Patronus seemed renewed. It grew, wingspan tripling, and turned an eye towards the speaking dementor. With a caw like thunder, it ripped at the dementor with its beak.
There was a noise like ripping cloth, and the dementor collapsed in a puff of smoke and blackness. The icicle pressure - cold and piercing - that had been digging into Lyra's head relaxed. The other dementors turned, and fled from the building.
In the silence that followed, Lyra swayed slightly where she stood. Abe's hand shot out, grabbing her before she fell. She let out a breath, relaxing her hand from its death grip on her wand.
"Abe," she said, turning slowly to look at him, "Abe, tell me you still have that forged whiskey."
The man nodded, "Aye," he said, looking over her shoulder at Lupin.
"Alright. First, I am going to have a drink. Then, we are going to discuss an appropriate story to tell the aurors that will almost certainly arrive tomorrow morning, and then we are going to discuss why Lupin thought it was a good idea to bring the entire population of dementors on your porch. Finally, if we have time, we are going to discuss the part where Lupin lied to me about Sirius being an animagus," Lyra turned, finding Lupin still staring at the door after the dementors.
"Did you just-" he started, then shook his head, "I-"
Lyra held up a hand, "Do I need to write the instructions down for you, Professor? I said first I am going to have a drink."
As much as Lyra wanted her plan to work, it was derailed in the first five minutes when an out of breath Charity Burbage burst through the door.
"Oh for Merlin's - does no one in that castle know how to use a door?" Abe grumbled, as the paintings on the wall shook.
"Oh, Lyra, you're safe, thank Merlin," Charity threw her arms around Lyra, who stiffened in surprise.
"I saw you head towards the village, and then Remus, and then all the dementors came behind you, and when they came back you weren't with them and I thought they'd - they'd…" she shuddered.
Lyra awkwardly patted her shoulder, "It's alright, I'm alright, everything is alright."
Charity hugged tighter for a moment, and then released her, taking a step back, "But you didn't catch Black?"
"He got lost in the dementor confusion," Lyra said. It wasn't a lie, not really. She looked over at Lupin and shook her head once at his expression.
"Well too bad, but at least you're okay. And you, Remus," Charity seemed to just realize that Lupin was also sitting at the bar, and she turned to give him a brief hug. Suddenly she clapped her hand to her mouth.
"Oh, but we have to hurry back to the castle," she said, "You'll need to make a report to the Aurors."
Lyra frowned, "Surely it can wait until morning."
Charity's eyes went wide, "No, it can't, they're here now, they'll want to talk to you."
Lupin shot to his feet, "They're here now? Why didn't you say so - Lyra, I swear, I didn't mean - I didn't know -"
Lyra picked up her glass and downed the rest of the forged whiskey. A sword, twin to the Gryffindor sword that plagued her real life, appeared in her mind, and she almost laughed. When she placed the glass back on the bar, her hand was steady.
"Right. Abe, you should probably come as well, I have a feeling I might need some advice. Lupin, you owe me a conversation, but I'm not throwing you under the Knight Bus. Charity," she paused, looking at her friend, "Thanks for the heads up. I'll see you all at the castle," she checked her wand was secured in her sleeve, and strode out of the bar.
As the door swung shut with a click, and Lupin hurried to follow, Aberforth was the only one to hear the whisper from under Charity's breath.
"Merlin, that woman."
He chuckled, and patted her shoulder, before ushering them both out the door and up the path to the castle.