HI THERE Sorry this is so much later than planned. My beta sent this to me over a week ago but my account has been glitchy and I only the document now oh god. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. This and the next chapter will be on the darker side, but there will be less angst after that yay so stick with me guys, thank you for your patience and support, sweethearts :)

It's a Friday, which means Peter, Frank, Alice and James are probably still knocking back a few more Butterbeers down at the Common Room – leaving me and Remus alone in the dorm. So a guilty part of me feels grateful for how exhausted Remus always is. The way he falls asleep in an instant. It gives me the freedom to take out my frustration in a way I usually don't – stifling my sobs into my pillows, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets with my trembling hands. I bite my lip as I shuffle further underneath the covers, as if the fabric of it is enough to silence my heaving breaths. Breathing in and out shakily, but slowly, I try to regain composure. However, tears keeppooling in my eyes and running down my face. With a groan, I wipe them away and lay my head back flat against the pillow, blinking away any more that are threatening to streak down my cheeks. Pathetic.

My heart feels so heavy in my chest that it's getting hard to breath. I swallow continuously, as if giving my throat something to do will help diminish my urge to scream at the ceiling. Thoughts of Regulus plague my mind in a merciless loop, making me feel so tired of it all, I can't even muster the energy to cast a silencing spell around my bed.

My head starts to hurt as my hyperventilating subsides and I start to let myself wonder again what Reg has been trying to tell me. The ambiguous letters the past couple of days have been frustrating enough to read – especially since we go to school together and see each other every day. It was only after dinner a few hours ago that he had the decency to approach me. However, the decency ended there, seeing as he refused to tell meanything other than "keep safe" or "please, just this once, promise me you won't break any rules in the next few weeks." How was I supposed to promise him – my brother, who, just a few weeks ago, decided against havinganything to do with me – anything? It is rubbish and I wish I could just ignore him. Block him out of my concerns and decide that whatever he needs me to do – or not do – isn't any of my business.

I sigh and rub my eyes.

But of course, I can't. He's my brother. That fucking idiot is my brother and he's caught in the middle of this war. Whatever he's trying to tell me has got to be a part of that – what else could it be? And, if it's a part of whatever the Death Eaters have got in store for the world – then, surely, it involves him too. If he's concerned about me getting hurt when I've played no part in the war whatsoever, then how much higher are the risks for him? How much closer is he to the dangers of the next attack? I can't even decipher why he's trying to include me all of a sudden, never mind actually being able to protect him.

"Fuck," I groan with my scratchy throat, as the thoughts become too much to fully grasp anymore.

I lie there, only hearing silence, until there's a sudden rustle that sounds like someone getting out of bed. With a feeling of dread, I sit up and peek through the gap in my curtains.

"Shit," I mutter, as I watch Remus tiptoe across the room – doing his best to be soundless – and closing the door softly as he enters the bathroom.

Suddenly, I find myself at crossroads between wanting to punch him or thank him for pretending to sleep throughout the past few hours.

The next week does not prove to be any easier. Regulus still keeps it up. The whispers, the letters, the pleading stares from across the Great Hall. It's getting harder and harder to ignore, especially with James on my side all the time, trying to convince me to promise whatever Regulus wants me to promise. But how can I promise him something I can't even understand? I don't know what the stakes are or how exactly am I going to manifest such vague requests. Regulus may be part of whatever mother has forced him into, but I still can't bring myself to make him a promise I know I may not be able to keep. Even if it's something that seems as trivial as keeping out of trouble.

As I repeatedly stab at my muffin during breakfast, James nudges me with his elbow.

"What?" I mutter.

"Don't take it out on that muffin," he says, shrugging.

"Well, what else should I do?"

"Talk to me. This relationship will never work with bad communication," he deadpans.

Despite myself, I chuckle and punch him lightly on the shoulder. "Sorry, sweetheart," I mutter sarcastically, "it's not my fault my brother is being an arse."

James smirks, but his face grows serious again instantly. "Really, though. Try talking to him again. And when he's alone."

"I honestly doubt that would work."

"As opposed to what method? Cursing to yourself and crying out of frustration until you fall asleep?" he challenges.

I frown at him and drop my fork, letting it clatter against my plate. "Dammit, Remus," I mumble to myself.

James sighs. "Hey, he's just looking out for you."

As I am about to reply, I look up, and see Peter and Remus entering the hall. I groan to myself and mutter, "Speak of the devil."

James waves them over and I return my focus on the muffin – or rather, the mountain of crumbs I've turned it into – on my plate, shuffling it around with my fork. When they take a seat across us, before I can help it, I shoot Remus a glare I know he doesn't deserve.

Remus just raises his eyebrows at me and turns to James. "What the bloody hell is his problem?"

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Excuse me?"

"You're staring daggers-" he starts, before James interrupts.

"A bit early for this rubbish, don't you think?" he asks in a raised voiced, looking pointedly back and forth.

Peter laughs bitterly. "Never too early for these two idiots."

"Oh sod off, Pete," Remus murmurs as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

Sighing, and not wanting to deal with any more reprimands or arguments, I'm going to have to agree with James. It really is too early for this shit.

I stand up and sling my messenger bag over my shoulder. "See you lot in class," I say barely audibly.

Without minding James and Peter's protests or telling them I've got the Marauder's Map, I leave the Great Hall.

Not in the mood to go to classes at all for today, I detour to the bathroom to check the Map. After making sure I'm alone, I sit cross-legged on the floor and spread the Map before me, murmuring the incantation.

The markings appear and I scan the parchment for Reg's name. I know his schedule better than my own (it became a habit since his first year – a habit I can't outgrow), so I know he has Potions as of right now. But his name is nowhere near the dungeons – not even in their Common Room. I rub my eyes, as if it will literally clear my perspective about everything.

I trace the drawings of the hallways and rooms of each floor, starting from the dungeons going up. By the time I've got my finger lingering across the layout of the fifth floor, I see a tiny dot with his name next to it. He seems to be pacing back and forth in an unused classroom. Alone.

Without a second thought, I pack away the Map, and head out of the bathroom to go meet him.

By the time I get to the classroom, he's on one of the desks, staring out the wide stained-glass window, with his back to me. I cross my arms and kick back to close the door, before leaning against it.

He jumps at the sound and turns around jerkily, almost falling off the desk. When he sees it's just me, however, he relaxes. "What are you doing here?"

I shrug. "I was about to ask you the same thing, Reg."

"Reg? Well you're in a better mood," he says, hopping off the desk.

"I guess you can say that," I say, nodding slowly. "But only if you tell me what's really going on."

He opens his mouth and I know that look. The look he gets when he's about to protest. So I hold up my hand to stop it.

"The truth, this time," I add. "Last chance, Reg. I'm here. I'm listening." I walk up to him, with my hands up, as if surrendering, and sit on the desk in front of him. "You can decide to just leave me with the mother-like 'don't get in trouble' warnings, leaving me clueless and even more tempted to cause a riot, or, you can take this opportunity – one of the rare times I'm willing to listen to you – so I can actually do something about whatever crap you've gotten yourself into that might affect me."

"You're going to kill me," he mutters, looking down.

"Try me," I counter.

He takes a deep breath, and glances at me. It's only now that I'm taking a good look at him. Dark shadows underneath his eyes. Hair out of its usual neat styling. Bottom lip raw and swollen – he chews down on it when he's stressed. Light grey eyes – identical to mine – looking empty and tired and bloodshot. I try to keep myself from cringing.

"There's going to be another attack," he finally says. "And I'm going to be part of that one as well."

I know he's part of them, but his words still have the power to jolt me, to make my eyes sting. I clench my fists to contain myself before I start yelling. I promised him I'd listen this time. And I will.

"And what does that have to do with me? Or with Lily? James told me Snape has been giving her the same mysterious shit you've been giving me."

He scratches the back of his head, his eyes darting. "I need to know you'll be safe. Same with Snape and his sick obsession with Evans."

I narrow my eyes. "I repeat. What does that have to do with me, Reg?"

His shoulders slump and his head bows. And, so softly I barely hear it, he mumbles, "You'll be closer to it this time. Marginally closer, I mean."

My eyes grow wide and I stand up, staring him down. I open my mouth to yell at him, to demand that he tell me what exactly that means, but my voice catches in my throat. Then suddenly, I remember something I read a few days ago, and I practically feel my face drain of color. "You lot attacked Beauxbatons," I say tersely.

He nods slowly, not maintaining eye contact.

I take a step closer, my fists shaking. I jab a finger at his chest, and mutter, "Reg, if your lot's next fucking stop is Hogwarts, I won't be able to even acknowledge your fucking exis-"

He pushes me away, his face blank. "We're not attacking Hogwarts, you git! Not that bloody stupid."

Scoffing, I shake my head. "Yeah, by all means, murder thousands of Muggleborns. But at least you're not stupid," I exclaim, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "So where? Who are the blasted victims this time, eh, Reg?"

"Hogsmeade," he says so suddenly that I almost don't catch it. "The night of the Hogsmeade weekend. All of the older Slytherins already know about it, but so far, no one in the castle knows."

A jolt of disgust hits me. My jaw drops and I back away, stumbling as I bump into the desk I was sitting on. I cross my arms and look away, trying to contain the anger that's slowly building up in my chest. "That's tomorrow," I manage through my raspy throat in an almost whisper. "And students will still be loitering around. Teachers, powerful wizards. The whole bloody village is stocked up on manpower and magic…You're going to get killed before you even find a fucking Muggleborn, you idiot!"

He looks down at his feet, hands shoved into his pockets. "It's not like it's my idea, Sirius."

I roll my eyes and laugh bitterly. "Well, that makes you a bloody angel, then."

Ignoring my sarcasm, he sighs. "They think that there are Muggleborns and Squibs hiding out in the inns and shops in the village. Using all the Purebloods and magic in one place to conceal them. You-Know-Who wants us to raid the whole damn place."

Rubbing my eyes with my clenched fists, I groan. "What the fuck are you doing, Reg?!" I yell, before I can help it. "This…this is bullshit, you realize? How daft can you be?! You've always been a good kid and now you're in the middle of this crap! Whether you're good or not is something I can't even begin to judge without losing my damn mind, but the kid part?" My voice starts to crack, and I try to force down the tears I know are coming up. "You're only sixteen, Reg! You should be worrying about stuff like getting grounded, your Quidditch team, and homework! Not whether or not you're gonna live long enough to hand in homework on Monday!"

Tears start to form in his eyes, and I look away before I give in and crumble.

"Sirius, look –" he starts, but I shake my head.

"I was wrong. I can't listen to this shit. I'm done having to deal with something you won't let me change," I say fiercely.

"Sirius…"

I look him in the eye, challenging him. "What?"

He takes a breath like he's about to say something, but then tightens his lips and looks away with a defeated look in his eye.

I frown, grabbing the bag that has slipped off from my shoulder. "Thought so."

With that, I storm away, slamming the door behind me and leaving my little brother – no, leaving Regulus – alone in the room.

I don't go to any of my classes for the rest of the day. Instead, I stay in bed, staring at the ceiling of my four-poster.

When you love someone, none of the decisions you make ever sound good enough. Right now, as I twirl my wand between my fingers, my head is divided between two choices. I can either ignore the attack – the attack that will ruin, and, if they really are going to extremes, take away lives – and convince James and the rest to stay away from Hogsmeade, or I can stay out late and help fight. But the thing is, if I fight, if I help, which side would I be on? Because if one thing is sure, it's that once I find myself there, I'll be caught dead in my tracks, trying to figure out whether I should be protecting Regulus or protecting people from him.

At the thought, I flinch and flip over to bury my face into my pillow. The thought of having to shield anyone from Regulus sounds bonkers. The person in question is a boy who couldn't sleep with the lights out until he turned fourteen. But now I can't even be sure how I'd answer if someone were to ask me whether or not he has ever killed anyone, no matter how much I'd want to say no.

I wonder how he does it – if he ever does, I mean. How can he stand in front of an innocent person and fight? Torment. Kill. How can he take away lives in the name of a cause he can't even stand – much less believe in? How much would his life be put at stake if he were to deny the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who of their requests? On the other hand, do I really want to know the answer?

Sitting up and combing my fingers aggressively through my hair, I blink back the tears I didn't notice were starting to appear. I stare at the empty dorm and know that I can't deal with all of this crap in my head, especially if I have to hide it from the four other blokes I share a room with. So, I lean over and reach under my bed, pull out the flask of Whiskey I stashed in there a few weeks back, and pour the whole thing down my mouth within aspan of five minutes. The relieving liquid calms my jittery fingers and burns a warm path into my throat.

Relishing in the sensation, I lay myself back down slowly. The world goes blurry just as the alcohol pulls me into slumber.

By the next morning – or rather, late in the afternoon when I finally wake up, I am thankful that I don't have to spread the news of the planned attack because my head is still pounding into itself from yesterday's binge. In the morning, as I am barely awake, I overhear Remus talking to Peter about how, with the exams and Quidditch finals and the news of Beauxbatons being attacked, no one is willing to leave the castle. Everyone is too caught upwith either fear or stress. Apparently, no one signed up for the trip into the village.

The relief makes me feel well enough to get out of bed and into the shower, ignoring everyone's questions regarding where I was the whole day yesterday before passing out. No questions from Remus though, which irks me. I wish I could talk to him, because I know that he and Evans are close and that he probably knows something is up. A part of me wishes I could just sit next to him while he reads on his bed and let him know that things will be okay. But I know that that isn't an option.

However, once I get out of the shower and finish changing into my jeans, the relief I felt waking up is gone, as I remember that I still have Regulus to worry about. I grab my wand, spell my hair dry and walk out of the bathroom, frustrated and distraught.

It's only when I sit on my bed to pull on my boots that I realize Frank has taken my place in the bathroom and that James and Peter have left. I look across the room and see Remus leaning against his headboard, curled up over a book I'm sure he's read before.

I try to ignore him, but I know I'm in no state to go around asking questions from others or to leave the Gryffindor tower, for that matter. The only way to make sure everyone else is staying in is to ask Mr. Prefect. I know from overhearing Lily scold the both of them a couple days ago, that Ashwood was the one assigned to collect the signup sheets for the Hogsmeade trip for this weekend. The third and fourth years haven't gone to the weekends all year because of the increasing attacks, so that's safe. The fifth and seventh years will be too stressed over the O.W.L.s and the N.E.W.T.s nearing. But I can't be too sure, and even if I were, that still leaves the sixth years.

Clearing my throat, I get his attention.

He frowns, but doesn't take his eyes off his book. "What now, Sirius?"

I roll my eyes, trying to keep my composure. "D'you know where Ashwood is?"

His eyes immediately leave the pages and he fumbles with the book, which falls to his lap. I raise my eyebrows questioningly, but then leave it. He probably just knows where I'm going with this.

He taps his fingers on his book, with a confused expression. "No, why would I? I mean… I think he's at the library studying with Lily, but yeah, I'm not sure. Why, what do you want? If you're trying to get him to help you to get out of some detention that was given to you this week, cut the crap, he's busy."

"Bloody fucking hell, I'm just curious about who's going to visit Hogsmeade, you prick," I counter.

He sighs, returning to his book. "Whatever. Don't bother. He said only Avery's lot signed up this weekend."

"Shit," I mumble, finally fully grasping that Regulus is going to be there. I stand up immediately and grab my wand. Before I turn to leave the room, I see Remus' face light up with understanding. I'm right then, that Lily has told him about her concern regarding Snape and the rest of them.

Before I know it, Remus is dropping his book again and getting out of his bed.

"This is none of your business, Remus. Don't even try," I say firmly. I look out the window and see that the sun is close to setting. It could start as early as an hour from now.

"You can't go running off after them, you arse! Are you that daft?!"

"Dammit, Lupin!" I yell, shrugging on a coat. "You need to fuck off. I can handle this."

"How?!" he exclaims, his brow furrowed. "What, are you going to stop a bunch of Death Eaters with dark magic at the ready? I know you can fight, Sirius, but don't be stupid!"

"Just leave it, okay," I mutter, turning away.

"And let you go ahead and get killed? What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?! I know you're trying to help, but if you leave now you're gonna cause more trouble so why the fuck would you-"

"MY BROTHER IS ONE OF THEM, OKAY?!" I shout, not being able to hold it in any longer, facing him and spreading my arms.

He stands there, not moving, with an expression of obvious disbelief. He shakes his head. "Okay, so he hangs out with them, but he's just a kid, Sirius, I'm sure that-"

"I've seen the mark, Lupin," I deadpan.

His face falls. He crosses his arms and looks away, the pity evident on his face. "Oh..."

I scoff. "Yeah. Oh," I repeat, shaking my head.

"Look, Sirius, that doesn't mean that you should-"

"Should what?!" I interrupt, getting impatient. "That doesn't mean I should go try and do something about my little brother?! Well, you can fuck off, Remus, because there's nothing you can do to stop me."

He looks like he's about to argue, but there's a sudden change in his demeanor, and he nods slowly. "Fine then. Nothing I can do to stop you."

Surprised at his sudden surrender, but in a hurry, I leave the room and hurry down the stairs. As I reach the Common Room, I look out the window and see cloaked figures just beyond the gates. I've barely spent time with him the past couple of years, and yet I can still recognize Regulus from a hundred yards away.

The group picks up its pace towards the village and I sigh, darting out of the Common Room.

"Dammit, Reg," I mutter to myself as I make my way through the portrait hole. "Don't you fucking die on me."

Preview: As I hold him in my arms, something stirs within me.

I bury my face into the crook of his neck, not sure whether I'm trying to drown out the noise of the riot or the noise of my thoughts. Or maybe those are just excuses, and this is just how I want to stay for a long time.