Sirius woke Regulus up very early on Monday morning, much to his little brother's disgust. "What on earth is going on?" he demanded.
"First task's today," Sirius told him simply, as if that explained everything.
"And it's not until this afternoon," Regulus snapped. "I can understand that you want to come up for it, really I can, but I don't understand what it has to do with five in the damn morning. I'm going back to sleep."
"How?" Sirius demanded.
"Because I don't see the point in sitting here and fretting!" Regulus exclaimed, putting his head back down on his arms. "If you can't sleep anymore . . . I don't know, go hunting or something. You'll drive me mad. Not to mention yourself."
He heard Sirius growling softly in frustration, but his eyes had already closed again. "Reggie. . . ."
Regulus sighed and opened his eyes again. And he'd thought he was babysitting when Sirius was after Peter. He could understand his brother's feelings then. He would never have had the nerve to do it himself, but he could understand the desire to do it. Now, he couldn't quite grasp why Sirius was doing this to himself, driving himself insane with worry over Harry. "No, I mean it. Do something to get your mind off of the first task until about noon, when I'll let you start fretting again. I don't even care if it involves chasing cats. Just don't bother me."
Sirius stared at him for a few moments, as if he found Regulus's opinion on the matter equally incomprehensible. "You're going to keep insisting that, aren't you?"
"Since there's nothing we can do to help the kid, yes," Regulus muttered, rubbing a hand over one eye. Sirius was swimming in front of his vision he was so tired. Not fuzzy as he was whenever Regulus wasn't wearing his glasses, physically swimming. "You're just torturing yourself, and I'd rather you didn't torture me, too. Hunt."
For another moment or so Sirius was wearing a very familiar and slightly worrying stubborn look, but he shook his head. "I'll try."
"Good," Regulus muttered sleepily, closing his eyes once again.
Sirius didn't return until Regulus had woken again and gotten up properly, and even then he paced the cave restlessly, getting on his brother's nerves and on several occasions provoking a startled squawk from the hippogriff.
Finally, around eleven Regulus couldn't take it any longer— the task started in two hours, anyway, and going through the Forest to get there would kill at least forty-five minutes, during which time their minds would be occupied with directions rather than dragons. "Fine," he growled, getting to his feet. "Let's go."
Sirius nodded and transformed into the shaggy black dog before bounding out. Regulus took fox form and sprinted after him on the stubby little legs his Animagus left him with. Once in the Forest, aware that he'd already lost his brother, he took to the trees. It was the natural element of gray foxes and in any case faster then leaping over the giant roots in the Forest.
Still, the familiar feel of bark rather than dirt under his paws and the trees of the Forbidden Forest themselves— not to mention chasing Sirius— brought back a memory from his school days. He'd only went looking for "Padfoot" and his pals once, and only then to see if his theories about them would prove true, but at the time it had been the most terrifying experience in his life.
It had been the last full moon of his sixth year— the only chance he'd had, as it happened, since he'd only managed to transform at will a week before.
To his own surprise, it wasn't Lupin's howls that had scared him; he'd grown up with Bella, and he already knew that there were much scarier things in the world than werewolves, after all. It wasn't a fear of being caught, either. It was the feel of the whole situation as he jumped from tree limb to tree limb, navigating by the narrow slits of moonlight that cut through the Forbidden Forest's ancient canopy and by the barking of Sirius and the werewolf. It was the sense of foreboding he felt every time his paw slipped on damp moss and he found himself scrabbling at the bark to keep from slipping off entirely.
Regulus had never been one for the cloak-and-dagger politics of his class— he certainly wasn't one for making deals in the afternoon sun, either, but a quiet and inconspicious corner had always been good enough for him— and that night in the Forest had felt far too much like them.
Still, he'd wanted to know for sure, and even though he knew he'd never have the nerve to confront his brother about it, he'd scampered on after the foursome until he was looking down from the branches of the tree James Potter's antlers were brushing up against. It was late spring, and in the tradition of deer everywhere, he had been trying to rub the velvet off of them, making irritable noises in the back of his throat as Sirius, who had just pinned the werewolf, looked on and sniggered in the back of his canine throat.
That had been the one moment that wasn't frightening, watching the two of them be Sirius and Potter even in strange shapes.
Regulus shook his head and returned to the present when he winded himself on a branch his back legs missed and paused to get his breath back, wondering absently if he and Sirius had looked nearly as funny when they were on the road the previous summer as James Potter had that night. Perhaps he ought to share that image with Harry; goodness knew that while he'd gone to school with James, he didn't know very many stories that didn't reveal how little he'd liked the man.
As he took off again, however, his thoughts turned a little more morbid than that night in the Forest. After all, aside from their height and age these trees were no different from all the rest in Britain, and as a Death Eater— an identity that was never far from his mind, these days— he'd spent a fair amount of time hiding in them when it all became too much.
Bellatrix herself had rarely noticed when he disappeared— she'd been too drunk on the power rush she got from killing— and although Rodolphus or Lucius might have, they usually kept quiet about it. Rodolphus knew that killing for sport disgusted him, and Lucius knew that Narcissa wouldn't be happy if Regulus was punished for disappearing briefly.
Still, crouching in the canopy of a tree, smelling blood or watching a clearing or yard light up with a green flash hadn't been any better than watching Bella kill in person. She was threatening to kill Sirius before he finally decided that he couldn't just sit and watch it happen anymore.
The scents of lizard and people reached his nose, and the sound of a crowd drifted through the trees, once again calling Regulus back to the present. This time it was more than welcome. After a moment he saw the stands, and the black form crouching underneath them. Shaking his head, he leapt down from the branches and bounded over to his brother.
While still a dog, Sirius's look managed to say exactly what he was thinking— What took you so long?
Regulus felt the fur on the back of his neck rising in mock indignance and in a show of maturity stuck out his tongue.
Sirius's tail wagged once and the two of them crawled under the seats until they found a place they were well-hidden by the stands but could still see everything going on in the arena, and lay down to wait until the task began.
Cedric Diggory, the other Hogwarts Champion, was the first to come into the arena. His first spell was a nifty bit of Transfiguration, turning a large stone into a black Labrador. The dog looked around, puzzled at its existence, for a few minutes, and then started towards Sirius and Regulus, sniffing the air curiously as if it was surprised to smell one of its own kind. The dragon's eyes followed it, little spurts of flame coming from its mouth and barely missing the animal. Fortunately for the dog's sake, it felt more curious than threatened.
Fortunately for Diggory's, it wasn't paying him any mind until the last few seconds, when the dog had stuck it's nose behind the stand and into Sirius's face. Sirius just growled at it, but Regulus was able to see the dragon's head snap back to see a human reaching into its nest, and the spurt of flame as the boy shied— still burned, but not as badly— grabbed the egg, and ran for it.
The girl from Beauxbatons— Fleur Delacour, the paper had said her name was— came second. She tried to put her dragon to sleep or something of the sort. At any rate, the dragon's eyes drooped and it didn't respond as she stepped closer. Unfortunately, it also began to snore, shooting out jets of flame as it exhaled, and the first caught her skirt.
The third Champion was Viktor Krum, who Regulus recognized from international Quidditch even if Sirius didn't. He did what Regulus had been expecting someone to do all along— hit his dragon with a Conjunctivitus Charm in the eyes. Unfortunately, as it writhed in agony it crushed a few of its own eggs and nearly squashed Krum as he stole the gold one.
There was only one champion left, and it was the one they'd come to fret over. Regulus glanced over at Sirius, hoping to catch his eye, but his brother's gaze was focused entirely on the dragon they were bringing in. Regulus recognized it dimly from a Care of Magical Creatures textbook— a Hungarian Horntail.
Then, Harry walked into the arena. He seemed suddenly a lot smaller and younger than the other champions, and the dragon seemed to be the nastiest one yet.
The boy raised his wand and shouted, "Accio broom!"
Regulus, puzzled, watched with everyone else as the Horntail watched Harry, who certainly wasn't going to do anything until that broomstick arrived. Can you even summon something from that far away? Regulus couldn't help but think. He'd never tried.
After what seemed like an eternity, however, the broomstick came flying from Hogwarts and Harry caught it and mounted it.
Regulus realized he was breathing again for the first time since the boy had taken center stage.
Regulus wasn't a big Quidditch fan, mostly he watched for a conversational topic, and so he couldn't have said what moves Harry was moving as he swooped around the dragon, dodging both the flames and the barbs on his tail. He could feel Sirius shaking with nerves beside him— and growling in the back of his throat when the tail grazed its target. The dragon wasn't going to be obliging and lift off. That was the point of the swooping, after all; Harry wasn't daft enough to try to fly underneath a dragon.
Another eternity passed before the dragon's wings, already spread and flapping slowly, were allowed to lift it off the ground, so Harry could dive in and grab the golden egg.
Professor McGonagall, Alastor Moody, and Hagrid all converged on Harry as he landed. The real danger— the dragon— was dealt with, and they'd take care of the damage, so Regulus lunged forward and tugged his brother by the scruff of the neck. For the first time since the task began, Sirius looked at his brother.
Regulus nodded pointedly towards the Forest.
Sirius hesitated and glanced back towards Harry, who was on his way to the hospital tent. He seemed to realize that he'd done all he could— watch— turned back, and nodded.
The two of them got to their feet and slipped quietly back into the forest.
"Not what I expected," Regulus admitted when they'd gotten back into the cave. "Not what you expected either, was it?"
"I certainly wasn't going to suggest he use his broomstick," Sirius admitted as he patted Buckbeak. The hippogriff was lounging royally against the wall but obviously pleased to get the first shred of attention he'd gotten all that day. "But you've got to admit it worked, and better than the Confundus Charm the Durmstrang Champion used. That was what I would have suggested."
"Yeah, I thought you were going to."
Sirius grinned. "But whoever's trying to do the boy in can't be feeling too happy, now. He barely got scratched!"
Regulus sighed. "Yeah, but this is only round one. I don't know that the conspirators would have liked him hurt in round one— boost his confidence and get his guard down, and all that."
Sirius glowered at him. "Couldn't you have given me a couple of days of relief before pointing that out?"
"The best you'd've had was five minutes, Sirius, admit it," Regulus told him. "By then you'd have rained on your own parade."
Sirius's glare dropped to the ground for a moment, and he looked up at his brother with a slightly more sheepish look. "I guess you're right. At least the second task won't be until after Christmas, though."
Author's Note: Somehow, whenever I read that scene in the books— and the circular set design for the movie didn't help— I'm reminded of fights with lions the Roman Colosseum and wonder how on earth we find people getting hurt entertaining. Still, that's one task down— two more to go. On reviews: Thanks to LastoftheSummerWine for the grammar correction and everyone else for the encouragement. I really appreciate every bit of it! Cheers! — Loki