Sirius Orion Black, the ninety-second heir of the Black family absconded, woke up after several hours of a refreshing nap to a wet tongue licking his stubbly chin (unlike the stuck-up of his brother, Sirius did not enjoy a daily shave—as if his brother even needed a daily shave, that baby-faced git).Sirius nuzzled into the source of the warm licks, imagining a rather bonny lass who was naked from the neck down and satiated from activities a few hours ago. When the bonny lass began to pant in excitement Sirius cracked open his eyes in suspicion. Bonny lasses did not pant like that.

"What—" he began, and then was promptly mauled in the face by an excited wolf pup who, to give it credit, matched most of his lovers in energy and enthusiasm.

"Alright, Sniffles," Sirius grunted, removing the dog from his face and stretching. "Let's go find your siblings."

In the process he began to look for his own sibling and, as any canine does instinctively, Sirius trudged down the bumpy hardwood-floored hallway, bare-chested and followed by his own canine entourage, sensing the smell of cooking food. Soon enough he heard the sound of things being chopped and human voices.

"I'm telling you, garlic is a must when it comes to soups—" contended one voice.

"I was never disputing that, but why would you burn them—" countered the next voice, just as argumentatively. Sirius shook his head like a dog trying to get the water out of his ear after swimming. He must be not fully awake, because there was no way that he was hearing what he was hearing.

"I didn't burn them," protested Regulus Arcturus Black, the present ninety-second heir of the Black family. "They were caramelizing. It's good for the flavor."

"Caramelizing?!" Sirius wholly sympathized with the disbelief in Wilson's voice. He himself had felt the exact same thing when Regulus made his French onion soup. Yum. "What do you know about caramelizing?"

"Word of advice, Wilson," Sirius said lazily, leaning against the kitchen wall. "The best course of action is to pretend ignorance. I am a perfectly good cook, but I didn't realize how much I was in need of his shepherd's pie until I pretended not to know a single thing I was doing in the kitchen. Just staying. Let the boy cook for a change."

Regulus didn't even bat an eye. "Put on a shirt, Sirius," he said. "You're not a dog."

"Oooh, scary," Sirius taunted. "Or else what? I'm going to get reprimanded for bad table manners?"

"Or else you're going to bed hungry." Regulus held the wooden spoon up threateningly. Sirius has to admit that that was a pretty effective threat. Though, he didn't appreciate how Reg repurposed his Mother's punishment for him.

"Stuck-up Slytherin," Sirius muttered as he kicked open the kitchen door moodily. Behind him he heard Wilson laugh lightly, and Regulus chuckle softly at her laugh.

That idiot. Never knew when to let things go.

Mostly, Sirius learned not to worry too much in life. There had been too much shite in his life—his family, the whole fucked up world, for starters—and being friends with Remus Lupin, the worrywart who had actual reasons to worry, made him try to be unconcerned and optimistic about everything. Ran away from home at sixteen? James has a spare bed. People trying to kill him left and right in the battlefield? Well, he always appreciated a good exercise. It didn't occur to him that he was inordinately lucky—some people didn't have friends to turn to, talent to rely on, or the sheer ego that remained convinced, though thick and thin, regarding the infallibility and righteousness of himself. His opinion was always right, his plans will never fail. And they rarely did.

So Sirius wasn't too worried even though James Potter, his best mate since eleven, had possibly set a group of highly trained Aurora's after him—first of all, James wouldn't hurt him and moreover, this was all just a big misunderstanding. As soon as he'd gotten a chance to properly explain to Prongs all that happened (his dead brother came back from the dead and the duo have done several highly questionable if not definitely illegal stuff) and why they did those things (to kill Voldy-Lord once and for all), James would understand and everything would be right again. And he wasn't too worried about entering Hogwarts either; they might be on the wanted list, but Sirius also knew the school like the back of his hand. If clandestine entry was necessary, well, then a clandestine entry they would get.

But Sirius was worried about one thing and that was his brother.

Regulus has always been an idiot, and Sirius has made no secret of that fact. But perhaps the message had lost its value due to repetition. Regulus, by Sirius' estimation, was far too serious. He did not know how to take a joke, and he certainly did not know when things were past the expiration date despite all his fastidious cleaning. For example:

1. The war, for all practical purposes, was over. Yes, that Vile Moron split his soul and everything, but that didn't mean he had to lose his sleep over it. The Death Eaters were either incarcerated or too scared to try anything soon. So they had plenty of time. But did Reg understand that the war was past the expiration date? No.

2. Regarding getting caught: yes Regulus Black was a Death Eater, but a proper trial would ensure that he's exonerated in a jiffy. Obviously. So no point worrying about when the hunt for him would be over.

3. This Wilson business has gone on far too long, which required a paragraph or two of its own.

Now, lest any onlookers be deceived—Sirius was happy when Regulus made a friend. Mostly because he stopped bugging Sirius and Sirius didn't want to deal with his younger brother in Slytherin in front of his Gryffindor friends. And double plus that the friend wasn't one of the Pureblood aristocrat brats that they've known their whole lives—no, this Wilson actually came from a sane family, thank Merlin. Regulus always had a hard time finding playmates when they were younger and Sirius thought that it was a good development for his brother.

Then his idiotic brother began to show signs of caring for this girl in more ways than one, and that alarmed him. Sure, one or two sexual fantasies, why not. He was a healthy, if not repressed, fourteen-year-old boy. But Sirius caught Regulus staring glumly in the distance, brooding during dinner (a behavior that a sane Regulus would've found intolerable), and even sighing plaintively over the chocolate bar wrappers containing the chocolate the girl had once given him. In short, his brother was going from idiotic to an actual idiot and, having already witnessed the same symptoms in his best mate Prongs, Sirius knew only too well what this meant: Regulus Arcturus Black, the presumptive heir to the family, was falling in love.

And the idiot struggled for a very long time, of course. A little less than James, but, unlike Lily, Wilson didn't hate Reg's guts. But he got the girl, and Sirius was happy for him, for the most part. Regulus should have something outside of his family life that he could call his. But then the idiot messed it up in ways Sirius wasn't entirely privy to and Regulus seemed to have shut down in the touchy feelings department.

But now he was back, his feeling even stronger than before. And to some extent, Sirius saw the logic. Wilson was the only beacon of normalcy Reg had all his adolescent life. She was the only guide he had when it came to living outside the Pureblood society. Of course he was reliant on her.

But Sirius has meant it when he said Wilson was happy with Lee. By Merlin, they suited each other—she was glum and he was stoic enough to bear her surliness. Regulus should find someone lighter, happier, prettier. Sirius wanted his brother back, and mooning over a lost love wasn't going to convince Regulus. He should move on, damn it. But that wasn't going to happen when they were chortling about caramelizing garlic together—and Sirius has seen the look in Reg's eyes. Hope. Unfounded hope.

So he walked resolutely back to the kitchen, where they'd already set out three bowls.

"What is this?" Sirius asked disgustedly, spooning the substance with suspicion.

"Soup," Regulus replied primly.

"We didn't have much in the kitchen," Wilson supplied. "Carrots, cabbage, a bit of smoked chicken and egg noodles. Sorry."

"Fine," Sirius grumbled, strategically seating himself between the two.

"A thank you wouldn't hurt," Regulus quipped.

"It would hurt me," Sirius drawled. Regulus sighed resignedly.

"Bon appetit," Wilson said cheerfully enough, but her antics soon became clear to Sirius, who wasted no time in tattling.

"You're giving food to the wolf?" He said, raising his spoon accusingly. And indeed the mother wolf had been lurking silently under the table, wagging her tail placidly whenever Alex managed to rescue pieces of smoked chicken from the soup and cool it before feeding her discreetly.

Wilson has the decency to look ashamed. "She was hungry," she said.

Regulus stirred uneasily. "You don't like the chicken?" He asked.

"No, I like it fine."

"It's just that I remember that you used to like chicken—"

"It's fine."

"But maybe things changed," Regulus muttered, backing down as he saw the expression on her face. Sirius relaxes in his seat. Perhaps they weren't so comfortable with each other after all. The remainder of the dinner passed in silence with the exception of the sound of human and wolfish chewing.

The wolf was clearly happy with the chicken, because when Regulus stood up she followed him, wagging her tail excitedly. Regulus absentmindedly scratched her head, but Sirius could tell that his mind was elsewhere.

"I'm going to the library," he announced. Sirius nodded and waited until Regulus properly left the room before turning to Wilson to give her her due. She was being rude, and no matter what Regulus might have done in the past—

But she was doing something so particular that Sirius paused in his wrath.

With an experimental look, she fished out a piece of carrot and sniffed it like a dog. Then the carrot ended up in her mouth, as if met by approbation. The same happened with the celery, with the same result. But at sniffing the noodle she suddenly clasped her stomach and her mouth, looking nauseated. She put down her spoon gingerly and took a sip of water. Her bowl was still almost full. Her left hand remained on her belly protectively.

His lips made the connection before his brain did—he'd seen this image before.

"Are you pregnant?!" He yelled.

"Don't yell."

"Sorry," Sirius said automatically. Having spent eight months by Lily's side while she was pregnant, he had adopted a few habits regarding his behavior around pregnant woman.

There were many things he wanted to say, beginning with "but what about Reg?". And how was Regulus going to react to this? Bloody hell. Sure, moving on and moving in with a bloke was one thing. Having their child was another matter. Now everything was concrete, set in stone, immutable. Not that it should bother Regulus, as he was supposed to be Moving On, but sometimes things just didn't work that way, and Regulus was just enough of an idiot not to realize—

"How far along are you?" kicked in the Habits to Have Around Pregnant Women.

"I don't know."

"Is the baby's father Henryk—"

"Is that really a necessary question?"

"Just checking, just checking." And then: "Blimey."

"People get pregnant all the time, Black," Wilson said drily.

"But—but what about Reg?" Sirius asked, feeling foolish at the cold, indifferent look on Wilson's face.

"What about him?" And Sirius never felt more for his brother than at this moment.

"What about him?" he repeated, the inner Sirius volcano getting ready to erupt again. "What about him? He fancies you! After all this time, he still has feelings for you! Doesn't that mean anything?"

"We were planning to have a baby long before you told us about Regulus," Wilson said tiredly.

"Did you stop trying when you knew?"

"That," Wilson replied coldly, "is not an appropriate question to ask."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't matter anymore!" Wilson whispered furiously, looking furtively at the doorway. "We haven't been together in five years, and for about three of them I thought he was dead. Is it really so dreadful that I found other reasons to live?"

Sirius had to admit that she had a point. Also, it was a bad idea to get pregnant women upset.

"Still," Sirius said, feeling like a petulant child. Oh great. Now Wilson had the don't-be-a-petulant-child universal Mum-power.

"I don't think you're right, but if he still has unresolved feelings, I'm sorry," Wilson said more calmly. "But I'm afraid that doesn't affect our decisions."

Sirius sighed. "Does Lee know?"

Wilson shook her head. "No. Even I didn't know until a few days ago, and I'm still guessing. I haven't seen the doctor yet."

Sirius' head was spinning. How the hell was he going to break the news to Regulus?


Looking at Regulus' face when he entered the library, he knew.

He couldn't tell him. Bloody hell.

"What's up?" Regulus asked, his eyes shining more than they had in weeks. It must've been the books; Regulus had already piled several columns of them by the side table, and burrowed himself into a comfortable position in an armchair. He was in his element, the library. And he looked so much like a twenty-year old who was just enjoying doing what he loved. By his feet were the three pups cuddled into one carpet-sized puddle of fur and love. As Sirius watched, Regulus nudged one of them playfully with his foot and the nudged one wagged its tail contentedly.

"We need to talk about our next move," came the words out of Sirius' mouth. Regulus' face fell a little, but then he nodded resolutely.

"Yes," he said. "I was thinking Hogwarts. Least amount of security. Compared to Azkaban, anyway."

Sirius drummed his knuckle against the books thoughtfully. "I know a few ways in," he said slowly. "But I'm just wondering, it's still school year. Kids are going to present all day around. Not to mention the professors."

"I know. And Potter's probably alerted some staff about us by now," Regulus frowned. "You reckon we better try during the night?"

Sirius supposed that this was a bad time to confess that he was an expert in navigating Hogwarts at night. "Probably," he said in a neutral tone. "But do we know where we're going?"

A most peculiar expression came on Regulus' face. It was part embarrassment, part relief, entirely secretive. "Um, yeah," his little brother said, scratching his head. A tell-tale sign. "I might know a place."

"Where?" Sirius asked. He knew the castle more than the entire population of Hogwarts students combined, thanks to the nightly strolls the Marauders took together. And he couldn't figure it out from Crouch's cryptic message. "If you really need to find it, you will—what kind of a shite message is that?"

Regulus smiled tightly. "You must know your fair share of secret rooms," he said. "Don't you know one where you can just get anything? If you need it?"

"That's preposterous," Sirius said.

Regulus clucked his tongue like a mother hen. "You need to start paying more attention to the house-elves, brother mine. The servants know all the secrets of the house."

Sirius felt an inner fume begin to rise again. And to think that he was concerned about this condescending git's feelings. "What. Ever."

"There's a room on the seventh floor," Regulus said slowly. "The Room of Requirements. I used to—um. Go there. When I needed some time. Alone." The tell-tale head scratch again.

"You mean when you wanted a shag."

"No," Regulus said, his ears beginning to turn red. Sirius' mouth twisted itself into a wide, sadistic grin.

"But you really mean yes."

"No," Regulus repeated, scratching his head like mad. And then: "Alex and I spent some time there, but there was none of that—sort of business. And I used to go there alone after we—anyway. You get the idea. If you need privacy, the room will give you privacy. Whatever you need."

"That's—hold on," Sirius said, frowning. "James used to—when he and Lily started going out, I mean. He said there was a really nice broom cupboard on the seventh floor. Someone they were looking for a lock and the door magically gave them a lock, or something."

"There you go," Regulus said. "The extent of Potter's imagination. A broom cupboard."

"And what did you ask for, Reg? A proper four-poster bed with a duvet and sixteen pillows?"

"I told you, we did not do anything—"

"Sure. I believe you."

"I swear," Regulus protested exasperatedly, finally closing his book. Defenses of Northern England, 1300-Present. Riveting.

"But you think Voldemort might have hidden this diadem in the Room of Requirements?"

"Could have. I'm not one hundred percent sure about it, though."

"And he must've put on protective charms," Sirius muttered, beginning to pace. Seventh floor. The passageway from Honeydukes would get them only so far as to the third floor. Four floors at night—not impossible. The prefects will have gone to sleep by midnight, so if there are any patrols, they would be professors, mostly. Perhaps a few nosy portraits and ghosts. Sirius could think of a few ways that would avoid detection. But he looked doubtfully at his brother. James knew how to keep up with him, could think the same thoughts that Sirius was thinking of at the same moment. Regulus, on the other hand—they never had a night adventure together.

He supposed he had a part in that. Sirius was busy with his friends. And Reg was—a boring nerd who preferred the library. It wasn't as if Regulus would've wanted to come with them, anyway.

"I know a passageway that'll get us to the third floor by the Defense classroom," Sirius said, retracing the old memories of his student days. Merlin, had that only been four, five years ago? "We'll enter by the Honeydukes cellar. I think from the Defense classroom we take a detour to the second floor by the east staircase, and then take the passageway to the fifth floor—"

"The east staircase has a lock that closes at midnight," Regulus said. "I suggest taking the passageway behind the portrait of Graham the Gruesome. He's always dozing and it'll get us to the sixth floor." At Sirius' surprised look Regulus smiled drily.

"You might've been a Marauder, but I was a Prefect, you know."

"We can always open the lock to the staircase," Sirius muttered petulantly. Regulus shook his head.

"That'll alert one of the staff on call. I just hope they haven't installed any new measures since we left. We won't be able to foresee any of them."

"Bloody hell," Sirius swore. Regulus, the know-it-all. Just never imagined that it would extend to knowledge regarding the castle.

"So when should we go? Maybe we'll get a good night's rest, and then we can talk to Alex tomorrow. She can go over the plan—she knows better about defenses and stuff, anyway." Regulus' eyes were shining again, and not from reading a book this time. Sirius sighed, back to his original conundrum. He should tell Reg, his younger brother, right? Regulus would want to know that Wilson was—but what was the point? Regulus already knew that Wilson moved on, what was the point of driving the point home one more time?

"I was thinking maybe we'll go tonight," Sirius said instead, suddenly feeling very tired despite the nap. And a little hungry. Maybe he'll nick some chocolate from Honeydukes—he always made up for whatever he stole by buying far too much during daylight anyway.

"Tonight?" Regulus said in surprise. "But what about Alex?"

I don't think it's a good idea to keep pregnant women up after ten p.m. Or involve them in any potentially dangerous missions. Or put them in stressful situations. Or, you know, put them in the proximity of a piece of the evilest wizard of all time's soul. All those things were probably forbidden by pregnancy guide books. Not that Wilson would've read any of them at this point.

Oh, the burden of knowing things that he had no desire of knowing.

"She's really tired," Sirius lied. "Feeling peaky. Upset stomach. You saw how she was barely eating at dinner. And I think we should strike while the iron's still hot, you know? Keep things moving. There are so many things we have to do otherwise." Break into Azkaban, for example, to talk to their insane cousin.

Regulus frowned, unconvinced. But he nodded anyway. "Alright. Sounds good. I don't like the idea of her—" then his younger brother stopped himself, looking contrite. Sirius raised his eyebrow but otherwise pretended as if he didn't hear anything.

"Let's leave around one," Sirius suggested. "I think I'm going to sleep a bit until then." Regulus nodded, and Sirius began to head to his room, thinking.

There was another thing he wanted to get from Hogwarts, aside from the diadem. In his mind, far more valuable than an old relic.


Growing up, Regulus was always a morning person. That is, while Sirius would've preferred to sleep until nine or twelve, Regulus was always promptly up by seven and wanted to play like an excited puppy. And Sirius didn't mind playing, mind, but he minded the hour. Unfortunately, Mother was also a morning person—on her good days, that is. The breakfast was served according to her schedule, as well as snacks and other meals. Which meant that after chucking Regulus out of his bedroom around seven-thirty, Sirius would have approximately fifteen minutes to get out of bed and make himself presentable enough for Walburga Black's breakfast, which was a rather complicated ritual involving three courses of muffins, eggs and ham, and some fruit and tea for desert.

So it was a rather novel experience to pace outside Regulus' door at one-twenty that night, feeling pumped for the new adventure (this was an adventure, wasn't it? Admittedly, they were only breaking into a place they already knew, but still. Obstacles along the way) and the ends of his fingers prickling with restless energy. Regulus' door, on the other hand, was obstinately immobile. Dull. Dead.

"Reg," Sirius whispered. He knew that Wilson was sleeping on the other side of the house, but she seemed to have rather sensitive hearing. Must be the pregnant thing. "Reg, wake up."

No reply.

Grunting in frustration, Sirius creaked open the door and peered inside.

His git of a younger brother was sleeping soundly. Certainly an improvement from his nightmarish howls in the middle of the night (regardless of how much Regulus tried to hide it, Sirius could hear Regulus' footstep creaking the floorboards at two or three in the morning, having woken up from a terrible vision), but not what they needed right now. Sirius took another step and something stirred in the dark—the smallest wolf pup, who somehow found its way onto Reg's bed. Typical of him to let small furry creatures sleep in his bed. The wolf lifted its head with bleary eyes and blinked in confusion at Sirius.

Bloody hell. He might be confusing the wolf with his brother, but Regulus looked so… young.

And of course he was. He was twenty, for Merlin's sake. Most twenty-year-olds worry about… Sirius didn't know what most twenty-year-olds worried about, he didn't exactly have a stellar entrance into his twenties either, with the war and the deaths and all. But he liked to think that he had a better grasp of living in the moment than Reg, and for a moment he was tempted to go to Hogwarts by himself and let Reg sleep for a little more. He deserved it, the poor sod, with his skinny wrist and prominent cheekbones. Regulus should rest.

But the wolf's movement roused Regulus from slumber and he rubbed his eyes tiredly, looking at the pup.

"What's going on, Archie?" he said, yawning.

"You named him Archie?" Sirius said, raising his eyebrow. His brother really did not have good sense when it came to names.

Regulus stared at him owlishly. "Hello, Sirius," he said. And then: "it's a she."

"I see," Sirius said. They stayed in silence for a while.

"Let's go."

Their way was surprisingly… unimpeded. They Apparated in Hogsmeade, and then it was a simple matter of using a pickpocket's army knife to enter the cellar. Sirius found everything so familiar, even the arrangement of crates and the smell of sweets, mixed occasionally with something bitter like mint or licorice.

"Chocolate," Reg muttered beside him, looking a little dreamy. Sirius then remembered—Reg had a bit of a sweet tooth, didn't he?

"Amazing, the sorts of details you forget," he said aloud to himself. Regulus turned around.

"Eh?"

"Nothing," Sirius muttered, looking around. "It's here," he said, tapping his foot on the floor. Hollow. Of course.

"A trapdoor?" Regulus observed skeptically. "You'd think someone would've noticed it."

"If you haven't noticed, no one's really keen on sweeping their cellars. Except neat freaks like you." With those gallant words Sirius opened the latch and opened the door. He jumped in promptly, reveling in the familiar scent of dirt and musk and damp air. Behind him Regulus grunted with the effort of lowering himself down.

"You alright there, Reg?" Sirius said, already a lighted wand in hand and walking ahead. He heard the trap door shut behind him.

"Hm," Regulus made a vague sound.

"So I've been thinking, Reg," Sirius said casually. "Seeing as you had your way up to the seventh floor all figured out, I was thinking that we could split up."

"Split up?" Regulus said. Damn it, Sirius could hear the frown in his voice. "What for?"

"Precaution," Sirius said.

"Liar." Damn Regulus for having lie-detection skills as well. As long as Sirius knew him, Regulus might be persuaded to plant odd plants, play with lost cats, or even play soccer with Muggle kids next door (and, as Sirius remembered, Regulus wasn't half bad at it except that he heartily disliked the Muggles), but he always knew when Sirius was lying. How, Sirius could never tell.

"I might be looking for something," Sirius admitted.

"What?"

"Well it's a roll of parchment really."

"And?"

"It's in Filch's office."

"And?"

"It's just a map."

"And?"

"Me and the rest of the Marauders, we all pitched in."

"Cut the crap, Sirius, you're not the sentimental sort." Regulus' snappy voice made all efforts at subtlety go haywire.

"We might've made a map that shows the entire castle, all the secret passageways and rooms… and shows all the people on it. Where they are, who they're with." Sirius held his breath, waiting for Reg to chastise him again. It wasn't so bad when Reg did it, anyway.

Silence.

"Hey, Reg?"

"Hm?" Another vague response.

"Do you have anything to say?"

"Well, Sirius," Regulus said lightly. "So you're telling me that you and your little friends made a map of Hogwarts with all the secret passages, and you just conveniently forgot about it until now?"

"Well, not conveniently forgot," Sirius replied. "Might've been thinking about it for a while. Then you seemed to know your way around the castle, so I figured we could split up. Accomplish twice as much."

"How thoughtful of you," Regulus said lightly. "And how did you expect we would communicate while you were on this search for this very useful map?"

"We'd find a point to meet by certain time—"

"And if I couldn't find the diadem on the seventh floor? Or by Merlin's beard, if the diadem was booby-trapped? Or, by some unlikely scenario, either of us were caught? Did you think about what you would do then?"

"I didn't consider all of them," Sirius mumbled. It wasn't as if they've been planning this for months.

"Of course not," Regulus said lightly. "Because you never include me in anything."

Sirius objected to this accusation. "I include you in plenty of things!" he said. "It's just, this is a special case, and we're already short on time. And this doesn't concern you—"

"You just told me that we might have an easier way to find the Horcrux," Regulus said through gritted teeth. "This concerns me."

"It's between me and my friends—"

"Your friends," Regulus scoffed. "Tell me, how is Pettigrew doing these days?"

Sirius whipped his head around. "You knew?" he hissed. "You knew, and you didn't tell me?"

Regulus crossed his arms. "He was as spy. Spies are useful. You don't just reveal who your spies are."

"What about me?"

"What about me?" Regulus shot back. "Clearly I wasn't important enough to be included in Mission Retrieve an Old Map."

"It's not an old map, it's the Marauder's Map."

"Oh, because that's so much better," Regulus said sarcastically.

"Why are you so bitter?" Sirius countered. "It's not like you ever wanted to hang out with us, anyway."

"And how would you know that?" Regulus said. "You never asked."

"You didn't like James!"

"For starters, Potter had a problem with me before I said a single word to him. Second," Regulus poked Sirius' shoulder for emphasis. "I never asked to be excluded, you just assumed. Like you always do. Like you're doing right now."

"I don't understand what your problem is," Sirius said. "I was going to tell you, but I didn't think it was necessary to worry about it and then not even get enough sleep."

"Oh, you're worried about my sleep now?"

"Yes, I'm worried about your sleep," Sirius snapped. "And I'd bloody appreciate it if you'd stop making me worry about every single thing you do! You don't eat, you don't sleep, by Merlin, you can barely hold yourself together—"

"I never asked you to worry, Sirius—"

"Oh, really? Because just few seconds ago you were telling me that you were complaining how I didn't pay enough attention to you!"

"I wasn't saying you didn't pay enough attention to me, I'm saying you just don't take me into account in any of your plans like I don't matter—"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm crawling my way to Hogwarts at two in the morning because of you!"

"Oh please," Regulus scoffed. "You would've done it in a heartbeat for anyone. I just gave you an opportunity."

"You know what, you're being stupid," Sirius said. Just hours ago there was Sirius, worried about how Regulus would react to Wilson's pregnancy and thinking about how Regulus was taking on all the task on his shoulders. And he couldn't even appreciate how much Sirius was trying to take the load off of him, however much he could.

"I'm being stupid?"

"Yes, you're being stupid—"

"Sorry to interrupt," came the third voice. Dry. Low. And familiar. Sirius retrained his first impulse to jump at the source of the voice and hug the life out of him. Probably not the best idea, if he was there for the reasons Sirius thought he was. "But I don't have all night. I have papers to grade tomorrow."

The face of Remus Lupin suddenly appeared from the dark, his wand pointed straight at Regulus. Regulus, to his credit, was looking calmly back at Remus, though he did raise his hands in surrender. Sirius looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out what the best thing to say was. Judging from Remus' expression, he didn't have long.

And Regulus wondered why he didn't bring him along.


A/N Hi again! Thank you to those who reviewed/followed-I know the story's been long time coming, and even I don't keep up with old fics sometimes (and welcome, Sorcha15!). Sirius is such an odd character to write because he has a very specific line of thinking that makes sense in his head but doesn't on paper. But it's always fine to watch the two brothers fight as well:) Tell me what you thought!