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Chapter 23

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"Where's my favourite neph…ew." James Potter trails off at the door, both hands still wrapped around the terribly concealed broomstick.

Sitting in the living room, Sirius Orion Black levels a stare his way that is far too reminiscent of his blood family; one filled with death and torment for all the perceived wrongs he feels have been made. Given that he is sitting across from an equally stony Regulus Arcturus Black, he's probably not far off on the whole perceived wrongs, keeping secrets thing. In James' defence, it'd been Regulus who'd bullied him into not mentioning his presence to Sirius; James had just assumed it was because Padfoot didn't like the fact his little brother was in a relationship (maybe? James isn't too sure on that front but then again, he never is with his sister-in-law) with Poppy Evans. Not because Sirius believed his younger brother was dead, as James had found out three weeks ago. By that point, too many months have passed for him to casually slip it into conversation with Pads and that'd left him in this terrible limbo.

Well, the limbo's been broken now. He's just got a terrible feeling some of his bones are going to be joining it. Is it too late for him to leave and pretend he'd never been here at all?

"Sol isn't old enough for a broomstick, James." One hand planted on her hip and completely ignoring the brewing thunderstorm of magic, Poppy Evans meets his gaze from across the expanse of the living room. The little man James'd popped over to see is balanced on her other hip, watching the world with bright eyes the exact same shade as his mother's hair. Metamorphmagus are cool; if he'd had that kind of ability back at Hogwarts, there's no telling how much extra mischief they'd have got up to, or how many detentions he'd have been able to shift onto Snivellus. Oh well; he's mature enough not to recognise that probably wouldn't have been fair and may have made Lily hate him a little bit more.

"It's an investment, one, er…" He was going to say 'one that Regulus would agree with', however, with the way the Black magic is swirling about in the living room, James rather thinks the younger of the two won't be agreeing with him on anything right now. Oh well, James is of the rather solid opinion that baby Black shouldn't have been hiding form his big brother, especially given how mopey Sirius was back in October. James'd been under the impression that it was because Regulus was in a relationship with Poppy, but he can see now it's because Sirius had no idea Regulus was alive and he had a fatherless nephew in his life now that made him sad. Oh well, not his problem.

"Right, well, Mr and Mrs Evans are throwing that dinner party today for Petunia and I managed to dig up a metamorphmagus freezing charm, so let's get going." And leave these two to sort out their issues on their own in a child-free environment.

Clearly Poppy reads his mind (he rather thinks she's grown to like mature James, which is a relief), because she makes her way across the living room, pausing only to press a kiss to Regulus' forehead as she goes.

"You blow up my house, you owe me a new one."

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"Thank Merlin for your parents," James hisses as they land on the lawn, hidden behind the heavy wards Poppy Evans had put up months ago. Lily shoots him a curious glance, suspicion sinking into her eyes as one hand comes to rest on her swelling belly. James' eyes follow the movement, that same stupid feeling in his chest that causes his lungs to melt and tighten at the same time. It is at this point that Poppy decides she'd rather not spend all of her time waiting for them to stop chatting. His dear sister-in-law erumpents past them, Sol peering over her shoulder with his big, wet eyes and gummy smile. Merlin, James hopes his little Bambi is that cute.

"Ow! Why'd you hit me?" James hisses, rubbing at his sides as Lily tucks the offending hand into the pocket of her dress, smiling all the while.

"You just compared Poppy to an Erumpent."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did; you get that same expression on your face whenever she goes charging past."

"S'not my fault she's always so… driven," James mutters, a grin breaking out across his face. Hey, there are worse creatures to be compared with. Wizards respect Erumpents and their ability to crush anything in their way.

Fishing Lily's hand out of her dress pocket, James links their fingers together and follows after Poppy, wondering if the final Evans sister will be making an appearance today. He's… not sure how he feels about Petunia in all honesty. It's clear Lily still loves her sister, even if their relationship is strained and oh fuck. He's comparing his wife and Petunia to Sirius and Regulus. No, that ways leads to madness. Speaking of madness, there's a distinctly Black flavour to the wards now and it's certainly not Sirius' magic. Huh, baby Black does care then.

Pushing the thoughts back, James ducks into the threshold, spelling his shoes free of his feet and then tucking his wand back up his sleeve. He's not as smooth as he'd have liked to have been; Lily eyeballs him and James just grins back, blowing her a kiss. She catches it because she's as ridiculously in love with him as he is with her, by some twisted miracle he probably doesn't deserve. Don't look a gift hippogriff in the mouth and all that.

"Lily! Oh, it's so good to have all three of my girls under the same roof again!" Well, that answers the question of if Petunia is here or not. Poking his head into the living room, James grins at the Mr and Mrs Evans, ignoring the stake of pain that jams under his ribcage. His parents had been old, the outcome of catching Dragonpox had been expected. Knowing that logically doesn't mean it hurts any less.

"Lily," Petunia murmurs, all blonde curls and large belly. It's strange to think James' child will have a muggle cousin (it's not what he'd been expecting in his early childhood, back before he'd first caught sight of Lily and she'd knocked him arse over teakettle), but hey, life works in mysterious ways.

"Petunia."

"And I'm Poppy. Glad we've reminded each other of our names," Poppy drawls, sauntering back into the room, shoving a muggle beer (it comes in a can; James'll never get over it) into his hands before she drops onto the sofa beside Petunia. There's a momentary pause as Poppy looks at his darling nephew and Sol stares back, lips pursed. If he weren't under that freezer spell, his hair would undoubtedly be rocking the rainbow right now. James's almost sorry for having to put it on him. Some muggles dye their hair stupidly bright colours; what's wrong with a baby like that? With a sigh, Poppy relents and placing Sol on Petunia's lap, much to the eldest Evans' surprise. As with every other woman that James has ever met (barring Mrs Black but harpies don't count), Petunia is instantly putty in Sol's tiny hands. Cute.

James takes a seat beside Lily on the other sofa, throwing his arm around her shoulders and humming when she snuggles into his side. Well, when Bambi is born, at least he'll have a cool older cousin to get into trouble with. It'd have been preferable if it'd been Sirius' bloodline, but he'll take Sirius' nephew over nothing (over anything and everything).

"Yeah, he's cute now, but just wait until he gets hungry."

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"What, no offer for food."

The mocking remark crackles through the air like dry lightning between them and Regulus feels his expression darken without his consent. In truth, it's a miracle that Sirius hasn't thumped him already; violence, after all, is the go-to response to surprises within their family. Then again, Sirius hasn't been part of their family for a few years now. Maybe he's forgotten the correct way to respond to things that have been purposefully hidden from him. Or maybe his elder brother has finally learnt how to temper himself.

Heh, and pigs will fly.

"It's hardly my food to be offering. Despite belief to the contrary, I do not live here."

"Popular opinion is that you don't live at all," Sirius snarls, leaping to his feet and storming towards the door. He twists back around when he gets there, prowling back along the length of the tiny living room, a caged werewolf with nothing he's willing to sink his fangs into. Not exactly the behaviour that Regulus would like to see, but it's true to his elder brother's character.

"Since when have you listened to popular opinion?"

"Since I thought you were fucking dead!" Sirius roared, the bare scrapes of his calm mask shattering like glass, pieces scattering, eyes bright and dangerous. "Now I find you here, playing house with Poppy fucking Evans as if nothing ever happened and you never joined the Dark Wanker that's dedicated to killing people like her for shits and giggles."

"I've left the Death Eaters," Regulus says, slowly, measured. Softly. It's enough to calm the tempest of his elder brother, even as the world outside finally reacts to the charge of magic and begins to rain. It's a soft sound, droplets dancing against the window panes. Sirius stares at him, face purposefully blank. "I also tried to blow You-Know-Who up a few months ago." A few months, no, nearly half a year ago. If not more. The months have started to blur together as he and Poppy go in circles, perfecting their attack on the (to borrow Sirius' terminology) Dark Wanker. It needs to be foolproof; the last one hadn't been and he still feels a swirl of guilt whenever he recalls the fallout from that one.

"That was you."

"Yes, Sirius, that was me. Funnily enough, Poppy has…" infected him. But he can't say that, not to Sirius who will take it to mean he's still clinging to his pureblood ideals (maybe he is, maybe he's not ready to completely let go of some of the elements he's been taught). Were it Poppy he was speaking to, he'd not have even paused to think about it before telling her that. She'd give him that cutting smile, probably fire back an equally sharp retort and they'd both end up irritating and somehow, impossibly more attracted to one another. Clearly Sirius isn't the only one who came out of Grimmauld Place with issues. Though what excuse Poppy has is beyond Regulus; he's met her parents, he knows they're alright.

"I don't want to know," Sirius grunts, running hands though his hair. It's still longer than Regulus', brushing his collarbones now, though it's still just as stupidly perfect before. If you like that 'rolled out of bed and started the day' look. Poppy takes great delight in messing his own hair up. Regulus'd probably care more about it if she didn't spend time smoothing it down when they're curled up together. "I don't- fuck it. You let me believe you were dead, you little snotball."

"And you left me." He doesn't need to be specific, doesn't need to make it clear what he's referring to. Regulus knows he's being biased; knows he's being a little fuck. He and Sirius hadn't gotten on since the Gryffindor sorting. It doesn't change the fact Sirius cleared out of Grimmauld one day and never came back. Doesn't change the fact he left Regulus to their parents, the last heir standing. And he had to be perfect. Their dear parents didn't dare risk another Sirius. His every move had been watched at home. If they'd managed to get eyes in Hogwarts like his mother had wanted, had spent months pushing for, well, there'd certainly be no Poppy Evans left on this earth anymore.

Fuck, he wonders what their mother will think if she compares the two of them now. Sirius: unattached, unwed and untainted. Regulus; one bastard child, tainted by a mudblood and fully intent on marrying her for it. If only he can talk her around to it at some point. Hysterically, Sirius is actually the better option for Black heir right now. That, in itself, is fucking hilarious.

Regulus Black is nineteen years old, pureblood and a blood traitor and plotting to murder the greatest wizard of the century.

Yeah, this is certainly going to end well for him.

"You little shit… Fuck, Reg. Poppy Evans though?" At that, Regulus does laugh, genuinely delighted by the fact his brother cannot seem to fit the two of them together, even though he must have known Sol was his child the moment he saw the colour changing hair. Metamorphmagus are a Black signature and Sirius had never slept with Poppy. She's never been interested in the wilder Black brother, Regulus recalls with a vicious sense of victory. Sirius may have gotten the better looks, the better personality, the better luck. But Regulus got Fiendfyre in human form. As far as he's concerned, he's won that one.

"No one else ever caught my interest." He's not like Sirius, not capable of playing about with a pretty face for a few weeks. No one else has ever stole his attention like Poppy; she's effectively ruined him. The worst part is that he doesn't care at this point. In too deep indeed.

"I'm still fucking furious at you."

"When are you not?"

Sirius snarls but there's a softness to his eyes now. Regulus lets himself believe it is relief; relief that he's found out his baby brother is alive after all.

On the brighter side, at least this means he'll be able to pop in whenever he wants now and not worry about sudden Sirius surprises..

Ta-da! *jazz hands*.

I'm not quite sure what to say; there was motivation, so I did it. Let me know if you enjoyed it?

Tsume
xxx