written for: the houses competition

house: slytherin

category: drabble

prompts: Black Lake [Location]

word count: 877

warnings: Sirius swears a bit, but I think that's it.

notes: reference to the Snape/Sirius/Willow incident in there, if you can find it

disclaimer: disclaimed.

She found him by the lake.

Marlene eased down next to him, looking out over the Black Lake. She knew that he knew she was there, even if he hadn't said anything to indicate it—she could feel his awareness of her, roiling off his skin with all the other emotions he was trying to keep pent up inside.

Minutes passed. Hours, maybe. All she knew was that the sun was slowly dipping lower over the lake, and the boy beside her was still trying to hold himself together through clenched teeth and fists, as if relaxing slightly would have meant falling apart completely.

Still, she remained silent, choosing instead to watch the surface of the lake, smiling softly whenever the Giant Squid breached it, even slightly.

Finally, Sirius spoke.

"They got to him, Mar," he said. His voice was hoarse and gravelly, but that didn't concern her anywhere near as much as the lack of arrogance. It wasn't that she considered Sirius Black inherently arrogant—though he could absolutely be arrogant—but he'd been armed with a smirk and a gaze too fierce to be cowed ever since he was small and eleven and all on his own in Gryffindor, and the fact that it was missing from his tone gave her pause more than any words he could have said.

"Regulus?" she asked, because nobody else could have caused Sirius to sound like that. Nobody cut through his defences and tainted his voice with as much guilt as Regulus did, not even the other Marauders during their rift in Fifth Year.

He hissed, more a sound of pain releasing than anything threatening or intentional, but nodded.

"He's joined up," he said dully.

Marlene sucked in a breath. She knew, with a sudden, unshakeable certainty, what Regulus had joined. She wasn't surprised, which was the most awful part. It was a jolt to the chest, sure, sort of like a Stunning spell, but one that had been cast years ago, and just took this long to hit.

She reached for Sirius' hand, clasping it loosely in hers so that he could reclaim it if he wished.

After a moment's hesitation, he squeezed hers in response.

"It's not your fault," she said softly.

He let out a bitter laugh. "I left," he argued. "I fucking left him there, Marlene, all alone in that house with those—those—" He cut himself off, glaring at the lake. Marlene wondered if he'd been going to say 'monsters' or 'people'. She wasn't sure it mattered. The two weren't mutually exclusive, after all; more often than not, in Sirius' life, they were the same thing.

"I'm not saying it's black and white, that you're a hero for leaving and that everything you left was bad, all right?" she said sharply, turning to look at him. He stopped looking at the lake and met her eyes. It was probably more out of surprise than anything, but she'd take what she could get. Her voice softened. "I know how most of them act," she said quietly. "The other Gryffindors, I mean—like you're some sort of rockstar for getting sorted into Gryffindor, and for running away and moving in with James. I know that you're like a hero to them for running to the good side, or whatever we're calling ourselves." She paused. "And in some ways, they're right."

Sirius scowled, turning back to the lake.

"But I know that they're also wrong," she continued steadily. Marlene heard his breath hitch, before he slowly turned back to face her, dragging his eyes to hers. "Because they forget sometimes that to run somewhere, you've got to leave somewhere else. And I know they don't like thinking about this, because then it means you weren't running to something wholly good, but I know not everything you left was bad." She shrugged at him. "You love your brother," she said softly, squeezing his hand. "It's written into every inch of you."

Sirius blinked suddenly, turning back to face the Black Lake. Marlene thought his eyes might be welling up, and very carefully avoided looking at his expression, instead looking out over the lake as well.

"I left him," he said again, but more quietly this time, less like an accusation and more like a cry of grief.

"Yeah," she said after a moment, sighing slightly. "You did. But you also loved him, and that counts for something too."

"The fucking Death Eaters, Marlene," he whispered, looking at her. "He's sixteen, not a soldier."

Marlene thought about Emmeline, whose father had been killed when she was ten and had been preparing for war ever since. She thought about Lily, whose best friend had called her a slur, and Mary, whose breath hitched every time Mulciber entered a room. She thought about Sirius, eleven years old and unprepared for Gryffindor, with a surname that meant evil and nobody in his corner except a laughing boy with glasses and messy hair.

"I think sometimes you can be both," she said quietly. When he looked at her, she shrugged. "You're always too young for war."

"But it comes anyway," he said, clenching his teeth again.

"But it comes anyway," she agreed.

War would come for them all, before the end.