It was getting worse.

Sirius was snoring peacefully and Buckbeak was, if not asleep, at least lying quietly in his usual corner, leaving Regulus alone with his thoughts, most of which persisted in heading down a worrying, circular, and inconclusive trail.

Harry's name coming out of the Goblet of Fire was, of course, the most worrying of all the recent developments, and for the past month it had pushed the re-formation of the Dark Mark out of his mind. Still, in the two weeks since the first task, the identity of whoever had rigged the goblet had been pushed to the back-burner itself; even Sirius, while still concerned, was less urgent about it than he had been two weeks previously. Without his brother's constant fretting draining his patience and energy, Regulus's mind had drifted back to his own vague forebodings.

Against his better judgement, he'd taken off his jacket to examine his left arm for the first time in six weeks. Previously, he'd been able to recognize the blots of the Mark because he'd known what they should look like; now he was all but certain anyone in the wizarding world could recognize the skull and snake.

"I ought to let Sirius know," he murmured, running his finger across the blurry jawbone of the skull. At the same time as he said it, however, he knew he wouldn't do so— not with the way Sirius was worrying over Harry. He didn't need to be worrying over Regulus as well.

Still, he wanted to talk to someone.

He checked his watch and found that it was only ten o'clock. He and Sirius were trying not to draw any attention to the cave, which included using as little artificial light as possible, and that meant early evenings and, to Regulus's disgust, early mornings as well. The only reason the temperature of the cave was bearable at all was the warming charm Regulus had cast on the walls, and even then he or Sirius occasionally woke up shivering in the middle of the night and renewed it.

If it was only ten, he had nearly an hour before it was too late to meet anybody.

Regulus pulled his jacket back on and took his wand out of his pocket, deciding to damn the attention he might attract walking through Hogsmeade in Muggle clothes simply because it was faster than navigating the Forest this late at night.

In the end, he took to the woods at the train station because he still wasn't terribly keen on being out in the open. It was probably much easier to get into Hogwarts towards the back of the school, anyway— the doors were rarely locked for fear of shutting adventurous teenagers out of the building, and Sirius had been able to get in twice last year.

"Not now," a nearby voice snapped.

Regulus, who was nearly onto the school grounds, froze at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Then when, Severus? You have been avoiding me for weeks, but assuredly you must have noticed—"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I have noticed. I have also had the presence of mind not to panic and race to the first person who might have any idea whatsoever of what I was talking about. Perhaps that was because I had no desire to deal with your insipid whinging about it."

"Assuredly it is of some concern—"

"Of course it's of concern, Igor," Snape snapped. "I just cannot fathom why you think a long discussion about it with me would accomplish anything, or even ease your mind."

There were a few moments of silence in which Igor Karkaroff failed to think up an appropriate response.

"There you are," Snape told him. "Now, I am going to bid you good night before I have to go brew myself more Calming Draft— or better yet, prepare you a poison."

After another moment of silence one pair of feet stalked off, and Regulus had a pretty good idea whose they were. He stepped into the clearing and leaned casually against the nearest tree. "A bit late to be out walking, isn't it, Severus?"

Snape turned around quickly, pulling his wand out of his robes as he did so. He relaxed slightly when he saw Regulus, however. "You?"

"Yes. The delusional amnesiac who has been convinced he's Regulus Black."

"On deeper reflection I realized that you remembered far too much about the Death Eaters for someone as thoughtless as Black to have filled you in, even if he had been one," Snape admitted.

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

"And I don't think you would defend him had he not been innocent on that particular charge," Snape admitted. "Dare I ask what you're doing here?"

Regulus sighed theatrically. "Do you honestly think Sirius Black was going to stay on the opposite side of the channel when his godson is in danger? And do you honestly think I am going to let my brother walk into a dementor's clutches because he's just that reckless?"

"I wish you would." Snape answered, straight-faced.

"I'm glad to see your wit hasn't dulled," Regulus said dryly. "Although, you told me that when you threatened to poison Karkaroff, didn't you?"

"I assure, you, I wasn't joking about that," Snape answered. "If he knows me at all he should be testing his drink for the remainder of the year. And you still haven't explained what you're doing in the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night."

"I was hoping to talk to you. Apparently Karkaroff beat me to it. I had no idea the two of you knew each other so well."

"And why on earth did you want to talk to me?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

Regulus shrugged. "Probably in order to discuss the same thing that you just dismissed Karkaroff for trying to talk about," he admitted. "Still, either I'm more paranoid than he is or I'm just cold out here, because I'd rather do it in an empty classroom than the woods. Do you mind?"

"On principle, no," Snape admitted, "but I fail to see how you could possibly get into my office without being seen by a student."

"Have you forgotten we're wizards, Severus? Disillusionment is an option. Now, could you lead the way? Please? It's December and I'm practically turning blue."

Snape rolled his eyes and cast the spell before Regulus had the chance to raise his wand. Then he turned around and stalked across the grounds and into the castle. Regulus followed him through the halls, which were familiar in spite of not having stepped foot in them in fifteen years, through the potions classroom, and into Snape's office. "Well?" Snape demanded, retreating behind his desk.

Regulus removed the spell, looking around the grey walls at the pickling creatures and large bookshelves with an expression of friendly curiosity he knew would drive Snape up the wall. "Well, I was going to say that the place hasn't changed much since we were students," he observed. "But the difference in this room is phenomenal."

"I believe that the last time you were here this was Slughorn's office, since I took this position about the time that you faked your death?" Snape asked.

"Well, all right. And there's no way that you and Horace Slughorn have the same style," Regulus admitted. "There seem to be more students around than usual, too— the term let out yesterday, didn't it?"

"They are all older students, and they are here not to study for their exams— which would greatly behoove most of them— but for a rather ridiculous Triwizard tradition called the Yule Ball. I take it that it hasn't made the papers yet? That Skeeter woman is probably waiting to find out who all the Champions are dating or some such idiocy, then." He rubbed his temples. "I do need a Calming Draft," he muttered. "So what about the Mark?"

"Well, my first question was answered during your discussion with Karkaroff— it's not just my paranoia getting to me."

"No, it's not. I still fail to see what you both are fussing about. It's only a tasteless tattoo."

Regulus's eyes narrowed and he leaned against the desk. "We both know it's not 'only' a tasteless tattoo, Severus," he snapped. "It's his mark, and it's a brand. Like Muggles do with cattle."

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Regulus . . . you're worse than Karkaroff."

"Am I?"

"Yes, even though you're not going to whine like he was. You don't want reassurances that I can simply dismiss, and you're not going to be dismissed until I give you answers."

"At least we understand each other. Have you told Dumbledore about it?"

Snape looked at him as if he had just asked him if magic worked. "Yes," he growled.

"Good. I figured you would, so I did you the favor of not trying to do your job for you," Regulus answered. He looked over to the shelf and found himself gazing into a sickly-green jar containing what looked like a pickled rodent, not really wanting to look at Snape as he asked the next question. "I'm sure Karkaroff's practically wetting his pants with fright and you're a fool if you're not concerned."

"I never told him I wasn't concerned. I told him I saw no reason to go running, panicking, to me about it," Snape answered quietly.

"What are you going to do if the Dark Lord comes back, Severus?" Regulus asked in nearly a whisper, raising a hand to his glasses.

There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "The same thing you will," Snape replied finally. "What I have to do."

"You're wrong there," Regulus replied, looking back at him. "I've got too much at stake on this side of the Channel to flee the country again. For better or worse I'm sticking it out here."

Snape sighed. "Narcissa was right, then."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Cissy was right about what?"

"About fifteen years ago your cousin had a rather interesting conversation with me in Diagon Alley, in which she informed me that she was afraid you had too much of your brother in you for your own good," Snape replied. "I see she was right."

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing," Regulus answered quietly.

"Perhaps not if you're suicidal," Snape retorted. "As you proved yourself to be about three weeks after that conversation."

"If my conjecture's right, you're only marginally less suicidal in that respect," Regulus reminded him. He pushed up his sleeve to look at the Mark and glanced back up at Snape, who was staring at him with a fathomless expression. "I'm not asking you to answer that."

"Good. There is nothing on this earth that could convince me to do so." Snape sighed again. "Is that all you wanted, Regulus?"

"Well, I hardly see the point in standing around exchanging pleasantries in your office at eleven o'clock at night," he answered with a shrug. "And the last thing I want is to come back to find Sirius waiting for an explanation."

Snape shrugged and picked up a stack of papers on his desk. "If you haven't told him about it by now, I don't suppose you would," he answered absently. "Good night."

Regulus slipped as quietly as he could back into the cave to find Buckbeak awake and glowering at Sirius, who was muttering in his sleep. James and Lily Potter seemed to feature heavily in the monologue, so Regulus knelt down beside his brother and shook him lightly. "Sirius . . . Sirius. . . ."

"Wha'? I . . . oh, g'mornin', Reggie."

"It's fifteen past eleven at night, actually."

"Oh. I thought I hadn't opened my eyes," Sirius mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What'd you wake me up about?"

"You wake me up whenever I'm talking in my sleep and I mention Bella's name," Regulus reminded him with a shrug. "I thought I might do you the same favor when you're moaning about the Potters."

"Oh, yeah. . . ."

"Are you all right? I don't know that this's ever happened before."

"It happened a lot in France, actually," Sirius replied, shrugging. "I didn't have anything else to chew on and . . . I guess I haven't gotten Azkaban out of my system yet. You're just usually asleep before I am."

Regulus nodded— Sirius was both a night owl and a morning person, so he seemed to get by on very little sleep. This was probably exactly why he didn't sleep much. "I would've thought . . . with the Triwizard Tournament and all, that you would have plenty on your mind without it drifting back to the eighties."

Sirius shrugged. "The second task isn't until February. I've got time to fret about other things."

"Yeah. . . ." Regulus glanced down at his arm, wondering if he ought to tell Sirius about it now, if having that to worry about might keep him from torturing himself about the past.

No, he decided. Better to keep him busy than add this to Harry when February approaches.

"Sirius, I. . . ."

"Don't worry about me, Reg," Sirius informed him with a yawn. "I'll just see what I can do to tire myself out past nightmares tomorrow."

Author's Note: Snape . . . I'm always nervous when I write him, because he's hard to keep in character, especially when you consider how likely he is to divulge his loyalties to anyone. . . . So did I get him right? Anyway, thanks to Gwinna and krenya-alenak for pointing out the mistakes in the last chapter; they have now been fixed. Snapesmistress-in-law: I'm eighty percent sure that Sirius referring to Harry as "the boy" is canonical in OotP, but I haven't actually checked to make sure, and to say the least Sirius's mind works in strange ways; it probably never occured to him to put Regulus and Snape in the same category. Also, thank you to everyone else who reviewed, I really appreciate it! Cheers! — Loki