Hello everyone! Surprise, surprise, it's back to timely updates! I make no promises, but I think that I'm over my "hump" - university + having no idea how to get to the next part of what I had planned - so I might go back to weekly updates this summer.
I've also joined the Quidditch League Competition this year, so if you get a ton of notifications relating to one-shots, then that's why. Feel free to check them out if you wish, but don't worry, Regulus and Emma won't be going anywhere during that time!
Onto the reviews, thank you to Princessss, lizyeh2000, VidereLux, roguepayne, Cae-Leigh Anne, 19irene96, Nik1804, BraiveHart and thebluefeather! If I haven't got back to you yet, I will before the next update!
Thanks also to VidereLux for being such a great beta!
PS. It's my birthday this week, so next week you will get a chapter written by a me that is one year older, and therefore wiser, and therefore it should be even better! (That doesn't sound logical, even to me)
Anyway, enjoy!
When Emma arrived on the Quidditch pitch, she was panting. As she had expected, it was empty. Easter break was in a week, so there was a lull in the training schedule. That and it was Friday evening, the time when students ordinarily let themselves relax into the start of their weekend.
Clutching her broom in her hand, she started to swing her leg over the side, but stopped.
Flying was the one thing that calmed her down, that seemed to release all of her accumulated stress. It let her escape her life and when she touched down, it was as though something had showed her what she had to do. Now, though...
Emma brought her Nimbus 1001 to her face, examining every groove, every crevice, every dent that had brought them together. The cool wood was still smooth to the touch, and her fingers slid into the handholds that had built up over the past two years from all of the flying.
Now she felt the urge to break her broom in two, to smash it to pieces and vent her rage on her prized possession.
So instead of taking off to the air, she took off to the Forbidden Forest, Banishing her broom back to her room. It would probably surprise Lucinda and the others when it appeared on her bed, but better that than giving in to her emotions.
She set off in the direction of the Black Lake, her brisk walk accompanied by the howling of the wind. It was still cold enough that it could snow, despite it already being March.
But Emma didn't mind the chill that scratched at her throat, the wind that scraped at her cheeks. They helped her focus, to concentrate her energy not on the rage that was born whenever she felt helpless, but on the task the Dark Lord set for her.
She refused to think about Regulus.
'Rab, have you seen my History project?' Regulus asked calmly, though on the inside he was panicking.
Just breathe, he told himself.
At the worst, people would think that he was some kind of nuts as Bellatrix. Others might say that he was taking notes to emulate the Dark Lord in the future. Those who knew him best would suppose that he was recording the meetings with the intent of chronicling history for the generations to come.
All three could be apprehended by the staff, who would have proof of him being a Death Eater. If not for the Occlumency mask that had been trained into his features like hardened wax, he would be close to tears right now.
Just as I was piecing it together, he thought, allowing himself to blink for half a second longer than strictly necessary. Just as, for the first time in my life, I was doing something that was right.
None of Regulus's scenarios could have prepared him for Rabastan's words, spoke as innocently as only Rabastan could.
'I think Emma has them,' the taller boy said, lounging on his bed.
Regulus tried to prevent his body from giving him a heart attack.
'Oh right,' he said, his voice sounding strained even to his ears. 'Um… do you know where she is now?'
'Dunno,' Rabastan replied, looking up from his Quidditch magazine. 'Why, is something wrong between you two?'
'Why would you say that?' Regulus asked, schooling his lips into a curious smile.
Unfortunately, that kind of acting didn't fool Rabastan. At least, not when it came to Emma.
'Are you sure?' Rabastan frowned, getting up. 'You look like you've just heard a Mandrake. And Ems looked pretty upset when I came in, now that I think about it.'
Regulus didn't even deign to reply, instead grabbing his cloak and racing out of the dormitory. Screw the Black family poise.
'Anything for our little Moony!' Sirius laughed, climbing out of the hole under the Whomping Willow.
James followed his best mate, groaning as he massaged his sore neck. Being tall had its inconveniences, namely squeezing through the passageway that seemed to get smaller every time he entered it.
The Marauders were back to normal, it seemed. Partly to help Sirius not feel like an invalide, since his hand trembled with the simplest of spells, and partly to get Remus out of the sullen mood that accompanied the full moon, Peter had suggested they go and make the Shrieking Shack somewhat comfortable for Moony.
They had dusted the room, adding in a sofa and a couple of armchairs, as well as asking the House Elves for several blankets. Now, Remus could feel a little more comfortable before he transformed, although there were few full moons left.
James only wished they had thought to do something like it sooner. In the end, they had whiled away the afternoon with Butterbeer and Cauldron Cakes, just chatting and joking around in the privacy of a special Marauders' room. It felt like it had been an age since it was just the four of them.
Now, it seemed as though they had spent more time in the Shack than expected. By the time they got back to Hogwarts, night had fallen.
'Alright midgets, back to the Tower before curfew!' James joked in his best imitation of Lily.
'Yes sir, Head Girl!' Sirius saluted.
'Lily wouldn't say midgets,' Remus objected, but the following snort belied his words.
'It's true,' Peter said nervously, checking his watch. 'It's nearly nine o clock already and the Common Room's on the other side of the castle.'
'Shut up Wormtail!' Sirius replied dramatically, looking around. 'Someone might hear of the location!'
This time it was James's turn to snort, rolling his eyes. Immediately, he turned his head, frowning at the silhouette he saw out of the corner of his eye.
The others didn't notice, continuing to tease each other up the path to the castle.
'Are you coming, Prongs?' Remus asked, curious that James hadn't moved.
'Yeah, yeah,' James waved them off without a glance. 'I'll follow you up.'
'I'll follow you up,' Sirius immediately parroted, jostling Peter and laughing. 'He even sounds like a proper Head Boy now.'
James didn't hear though, as he was already walking in the opposite direction.
'I thought it was you,' James said, falling into step with Emma.
She whipped her head around so quickly she got whiplash. She cringed, massaging her neck, but relaxed as she realised that it was her brother.
'Hey,' she greeted weakly, head still tilted at an angle.
'Expecting someone else?' James asked, looking around.
They were a quarter of the way around the Black Lake, the castle hardly visible under the clouds. The Forbidden Forest loomed ahead and to the right the water rippled ominously with twilight predators come to life. Emma stopped walking, finally taking her hand away from her neck.
'Not really,' she shrugged. She looked up at the sky, watching a cloud pass over the nearly full moon, causing shadows to speckle their surroundings. She looked to James, his face half hidden, and tried to discern whether he had followed her. 'I just needed some time to think.'
'Is something wrong?' James asked immediately, the concern transparent in his voice. Was Dumbledore right? he asked himself. Is she cracking under the pressure of what it means to be a Slytherin?
Emma scoffed, the corner of her mouth curling derisively, her eyes flitting upwards for half a second. As her mind searched for an answer, the sheer amount of "somethings wrong" threatened to overwhelm her. Suddenly, tears were pricking at her eyes, and she found herself having to carefully hold them open to break the flow.
'Emma?' he asked, because he was James, and James always knew when she was upset.
A lump rose in Emma's throat and she made to turn away, to fill the void with some kind of platitude that would convince him. Within her House, she was renowned for her ability to spin tales out of the smallest of truths, weaving half lies into a web strong enough to catch even herself if she had wanted to contradict the story.
Where was that Emma now? Now that she needed her the most?
Realising that she would have to make do without her instincts, the small, dark haired girl cleared her throat.
'James,' she started, fully intending on reassuring her twin.
Her treacherous voice trembled, then broke, and she collapsed into tears.
'Emma!' Regulus called, shrugging his cloak on as he entered the Quidditch Pitch.
It was empty.
Desperately, he checked in the stands, in the stairs, in the skies, anywhere that Emma could possibly be. Breaking into the Quidditch shed with a simple Alohamora, he grabbed the first possible broom, taking to the air to see if she had decided to go for a fly instead of her habitual staring at the sky.
'Emma!' he shouted, but his voice was lost to the wind.
Relax, Regulus, he told himself when he found no sign of her. Maybe it was too cold, maybe she's gone inside.
He flew up to the Astronomy Tower, but all he saw was a couple sharing a picnic basket. He hadn't had much hope anyway, the cold had never stopped her before.
Why didn't she come to me about it? he asked himself. I could have explained, I could have...
Regulus trailed off in his mind as he realised that he didn't know what he could have said about it. He would probably have let her guess by herself. She was a fervent supporter of the Dark Lord, as fervent as he had been before he had discovered the first of several truths: The Dark Lord did not want a better world, only one easier to rule.
He could easily have passed his research off as many things, but for some reason he wanted to tell her the truth. No, he should have told her the truth a long time ago. Emma was trustworthy, she had proved that when she hadn't mentioned his secrets to anyone, when she hadn't thrown his love back in his face - even though he knew that he was far from worthy of being loved in return.
More than that, he wanted to tell her because she was…because she was Emma. The girl that he hoped would marry him. He couldn't keep secrets from her any more, no matter how much a part of him they were. Besides, he didn't think he could bear it if she followed the Dark Lord blindly for a cause that would never come true. It would tear her apart, and through that, the rest of them wouldn't stand a chance at redemption.
'I messed up James,' Emma stammered through rackety sobs. Fat tears were rolling down her cheeks, the likes of which James had rarely seen, and her hands were clutching at her face as if they could tear the pain away through the skin. 'I messed up and you have no idea how much.'
James's own eyes became blurry, the frustration at not knowing what to do overwhelming him. He took his sister's arm, but she flinched, pushing him away. She started crying even harder, her sleeves soaked through, the snot running down her nose and mouth
James had never seen her in such a state.
'Hey,' he said gently, bending down to meet her eyes. He took her hands, lowering them from her face, before wiping her eyes and nose with his own sleeve. 'You're my sister. You're my twin. There's not been a minute of my life where you weren't there, and I don't think I could have it any other way. It'll take more than "messing up" to get rid of me.'
Emma's face scrunched up at that, the tears streaming out, though her sobs had quieted to coughs.
'You say that,' she choked out miserably. 'But you don't mean it.' She paused, trying to control her voice. 'You couldn't mean it,' she whispered.
'Ems,' James said firmly. 'You're my family. There's nothing, nothing more important to me than family. I love you. That's not going to go away, not for anything in the world.'
'Not even for this?' Emma asked almost defiantly, and held out her left arm, roughly pushing away the sleeve when it caught on the watch she had received for her seventeenth birthday.
A short intake of breath escaped James before he knew it. A vivid red snake weaved in and out of a skull's open mouth, darting here and there as though daring him to touch it. Its forked tongue slid in and out of its mouth, as though tasting the twins' pain in the air. Its tail curled through its body into a figure eight - or if you looked at it from an angle, an infinity symbol. The skull seemed as though it was grinning at the scene, waiting for the moment where its master would call it.
James couldn't look away, caught between horror and fascination and dread, dread at the thought of what his little sister, as he always thought of her, had done to earn this badge of death.
He looked up at her, fully intending to let loose the sense of betrayal that mounted during his observation. But the sight he was met with made him falter.
Emma's eyes were puffy and red, blinking rapidly at the tears that still fell from her lashes, her mouth turned down in the anticipation of losing her last family member as a result of her folly. More than ever, the blue of her irises were innocent, fearful, the way they had always been just before she followed James in whatever stupid plan he had concocted.
James's heart softened.
'Not even for that,' he replied, pulling Emma into a tight hug and closing his eyes against the symbol of the Dark Lord.
He had lost his mother and father in the space of twelve months. He was damned if he would be losing his sister, too.
Did she remember...? Regulus wondered, veering from the Astronomy Tower towards the Black Lake.
He skimmed low, as the evening fog was already descending, soaking into his cloak and dampening his skin. After what seemed like an age, he alighted near the jetty on the far side of the water, the one the first years took on their way to Hogwarts and the way the seventh years left for good.
It was empty.
Regulus sat down anyway, drawing his knees to his chest. His heart sunk into a well known disappointment and he rested his chin on his knees. Maybe Emma was walking slowly and hadn't got to the jetty yet.
Out in the open, without a soul around to see, he let his badly held mask fall, his eyelids relaxing into a half-lidded position, his mouth slackening with sadness. Every time he blinked, it seemed as though it took that much more effort to open his eyes again, effort that seemed in short supply.
He realised just how much he had been counting on being able to convince Emma of the Dark Lord's folly, of how they had been duped and their vision of a better world was quickly being replaced by a reality in which they were instrumental in making it worse. Without her, he would never be able to talk to Rabastan, to make sure his best friend could get out, and without Rabastan out of the Death Eaters, Lucinda would always be beholden to them too. And that was without counting Evan.
Suddenly, he scoffed in derision at his reflection.
Look at me, he thought pityingly. I try to help Sirius and only drive him further away from his family. I try to help wizards harassed by Muggles, only to harass Muggleborn wizards instead. I fall in love with a girl, only to find myself on the opposing shore.
Eventually, one of the blinks found a tear trapped between lashes, so he kept his eyes closed. He didn't deserve the tears. He didn't deserve his brother. He didn't deserve the girl.
'That's not all of it James,' Emma said sadly, as James stood up.
She had just finished telling James about the past few years for her, excluding several facts such as Regulus's initiation mission, the fact that Rabastan was a Death Eater and - of course - the girl. Her brother had stayed silent throughout the whole ordeal, though with a look of intense concentration that told Emma that he was trying, and failing, to understand her point of view. At least he believed that she was a good person.
Merlin knew that she needed at least one person to think so.
'What more could there possibly be?' James asked weakly, lowering himself back down to the tree stump.
Emma took a deep breath and told him about the Dark Lord's latest mission - the massacre that was supposed to happen at Little Hangleton.
James's eyes widened as he jumped back up. 'We have to go to Dumbledore!'
'No!' Emma shouted, leaping to her feet.
James blinked in surprise, and she realised how violent her reaction had been.
'No,' she said in a softer tone. 'I don't want Dumbledore to know. Not this, not the Death Eaters, not any of it!'
'But Ems,' James pleaded. 'He can help.'
'He'll help you,' Emma concluded. 'You're a Gryffindor. As soon as I'm out of Hogwarts, he'll have my every move watched; just waiting for the moment he can throw me into Azkaban. He'll probably be pleased about it, and convince you of just how bad a person I am.'
'It's not like that Ems,' James replied, shaking his head. 'Dumbledore treats everyone on an equal footing.'
'Oh really?' Emma asked sarcastically, shifting her weight onto one leg and crossing her arms. 'Tell me, how many Slytherins were approached to be a part of this Order of the Phoenix?'
James faltered for a second. 'None,' he answered. 'But that's because he doesn't want to put you in the position of going against your classmates, your dorm mates!'
'Let's try again then. How many Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were approached?'
'Two, no, three I think, in Ravenclaw,' James said, frowning as he mentally counted. 'And four Hufflepuffs.'
'And how many Gryffindors?' Emma asked.
'All of the seventh years, plus those of age in the sixth,' James replied immediately. His face fell a second later.
'You see, Dumbledore has always shown favouritism to his old House,' Emma said with a small smile. 'There hasn't been a single Dark witch or wizard in Hufflepuff, and yet he doesn't trust them.'
'Fine,' James replied. 'But I refuse to let Voldemort murder a village of innocent Muggles. And I refuse to let you take part in it.' His face softened. 'You've done enough. I'm sorry that your relationship with Mum and Dad was that bad in the end. You should have told me earlier.'
'I know,' Emma replied quietly. 'But I…I didn't know how to say it. As for Little Hangleton, thanks to you I have a plan. But promise me James, you can't tell anyone about any of this. Not even Lily. And especially not Sirius.'
'Of course not,' James replied, his face earnest. 'I promise.'
And for someone else, Emma might have asked for a Wizard's Oath, or an Unbreakable Vow, but for James, a promise was enough. Because James never broke his promises.