It's the night after Peter's funeral and James is still only sleeping with the help of potions.

Sirius lies down on James' left with Remus sitting up against the headboard on the right. The curtains are drawn shut and silenced.

Not that the other two Gryffindor boys in the dorm would talk about anything they overhear – not after what Sirius did to them last time.

"Is there a new Black anywhere?" Remus asks, head tipped back against the top of the headboard.

Sirius is curled around James' back with an arm slung over his waist.

"He smelled like you," Remus continues.

"I know," said Sirius.

It took a while, especially with the whole forest bordered off now, but Sirius snuck in as Padfoot, traced a winding path up and down the tree line. Someone had been watching them for a while when they were lying under the stars that night.

"I sent a letter home," Sirius admits. "Nothing."

"Would they tell you?" Remus asks.

"I pretended I was Regulus."

They go quiet as James shifts a bit.

"Did you tell the aurors?" Sirius continues.

"No, I didn't know what the scent was when they took our statements." Remus tilts his head. "And they've been useless, haven't they?"

Sirius huffs. "Spent so fucking long stuttering out questions like my banshee of a mother was going to swoop out of the shadows to eat them if they said something wrong." He grits his teeth. "There are spells to track apparition, now it's been too long for any to work and they're still bumbling around the forest."

Remus hums. "Talking a lot too. A Ravenclaw asked me about it when I was in the library."

Sirius sighs. "Moony, tell me maiming people is illegal."

"Oh, Padfoot," Remus muses. "Only if you get caught."

It's on the way to Charms, which all three of them have, that a group of sixth-year Slytherins block them off.

"Walk away," Sirius warns them, stepping out in front of James and Remus.

"I've been hearing rumours lately." McArthur smirks.

"I'm going to skin your face off," Sirius says, spinning his wand until it's a blur. "Make you fucking eat it."

McArthur stutters.

Another steps up though, from the back of the group and confident because she's got meat shields in front of her. Flint smirks. "I heard Pettigrew died not twenty meters from you."

Sirius raises his wand and the four sixth-years mirror him. Remus pulls back for more range. Sirius glances back before he can stop himself and James just stands there but instead of his usual blank state, his eyes are wide, focused.

"I heard," Flint muses. Her eyes slide past Sirius, land on James. "That Potter was the one to suggest leaving the castle."

James' breath hitches.

Remus is actually the first one to move.

Not even an overpowered scourgify can get all that blood off the walls.

Regulus stumbles as he's shoved into the empty classroom and catches himself on a table, whirls around with his wand at the ready.

"I don't understand," Sirius admits lightly, shuts the door behind him, locks it. "I don't fucking understand why people think Peter -someone dying- is funny."

"I don't know anything," Regulus says immediately. "I didn't even know what happened to you until the rumours started."

"Rumours," Sirius scoffs. "They took our bloody witness statements from the aurors. Who's passing that shit out, Regulus?"

"I really don't know," Regulus insists.

Sirius breathes in, breathes out. "One more person makes James cry, I'm going to fucking kill them, and won't that be funny."

Regulus winces. "It's not – not the aurors. It's higher up than that." He looks around. "You can't tell anyone I told you."

"Get to the point."

"Your statement went to the auror department and a lot of people in the Ministry have access to that, even -especially- when they shouldn't," Regulus explains. "But it was also sent to the education department, and also board of directors for the school. Everyone is getting it through their parents, maybe not the whole thing but enough."

"Who started it?"

"Everyone," Regulus insists. "It involved the Blacks and the Potters. Even the Daily Prophet wants to run a story, but they're holding off because they don't know what the Potters might do."

Sirius sighs and scrubs a hand through his hair. "Anything else, guys?"

Regulus jolts and turns towards the sound of stone scraping against itself. Remus and James are waiting in the shadow of a passageway half hidden behind a tapestry.

"That's your payment by the way," Sirius grumbles. "Goes straight to the back courtyard, you're welcome."

James is thinking, looking down as he plays with Remus' sleeve. "Tell them the person wanted the Potter heir – they wanted an heir to an ancient family."

"Oh shit," Sirius says, a slowly growing smile stretching across his face.

Remus hums. "You've gotten meaner, James."

"I can't," Regulus blurts out. "To say that someone is trying to kidnap heirs? The families will - I can't lie about that kind of thing."

"Then don't lie," James says simply. "Won't be hard. 'Potter was dragged to the edge of the wards, wasn't he?' - 'Why take Potter and not Pettigrew when it would have been so much easier?'." James looks up, catches Regulus' eyes. "If they want to talk, then let them talk."