A/N: Warnings are pretty well the same as usual. Language, period-typical sexism and homophobia, underage substance use and substance abuse, referenced/implied underage sex, implied/referenced child abuse, referenced violence etc. Special warnings this chapter include child marriage, forced marriage, and a variety of behaviours you should Not emulate at home. As always read with care as I may have missed something.
Also, a special shoutout to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, and favourited! You guys mean the most.
March 13th, 1976
The gloom gave way to sunshine, and so most fled with their books and their friends outside, braving the winds for the promise of warmth and the blooms of spring. Regulus avoided them on his way down to the dungeons, a folded letter in his grasp. His mother's. It had arrived while he was in the library, reading an old novel by the stained-glass windows. Upon seeing it, his heart dropped.
She was miserable, she wrote. Orion - Father, Regulus corrected himself - was busy, locking himself in his office each afternoon, spending his days in Diagon Alley at the bank or at lunch, meeting with less well-off friends who worked at the Ministry or owned their own businesses in Knockturn. On the weekend he toured country estates, and now was in France for a week, with Uncle Cygnus and some of Aunt Druella's family; her father and two of her brothers. Mother was left at home. She was despondent, terribly lonely, aching, anxious and isolated and wretched, and felt as though she could fade into the tapestry and not a soul would miss her. The women she usually met with were being cruel and careless and snobby and simple, so she had nobody in the entire world but Kreacher.
'How fair it would be to look upon your face,' she wrote, in sloping black cursive spotted with tears, 'to see my own boy. I feel I am half in the grave in this little house, and that there are none who love me but me, and my own self-love dwindles with each day. Write to your mother, if you are not so busy with school and the trifles of your peers, if you do not see how bad she is inside and out and hate her for it as you must. Sunday will be a day at Hogsmeade, will it not? If only I had the strength, were I not a plague upon all who knew me, I might think to visit. But I know you could never want your poor mother there, a humiliation in front of your friends. That I were young again. But all these days leave me by, as you will. Oh, Regulus, if you only knew how much I love you. All others forget me, and disappoint me, but you are my guiding light; the only truth in this world. When your poor mother is left for dead her husband and her eldest son will surely forget her, but you are my dutiful boy, the cleverest and the kindest…' And on it went, along with a few accounts of the paltry gossip she'd come across; Nicholas Crabbe had purchased a new property in Hertfordshire ('near a hovel of disgusting muggles!') and it was said Geoffrey and Selma Flint faced troubles in their marriage. It took Regulus near half an hour to get through the pages and pages she had sent, the envelope so heavy Berthilde had fallen upon the table once she delivered it into Regulus' hands, and Regulus had feared his mother's bird dead. The letter, in turns, was melancholic and furious and hopeful. Regulus knew he had to write her at once to assure her they could have lunch together tomorrow. Mulciber wouldn't like it, but he couldn't have Mother in such a state. He didn't know what she would do, not on her own.
He carried Berthilde in his arms, and people made way for him and the injured bird. He gave the password and hurried through the common room and down the stairs to his dormitory, thinking hard on what to write. What would soothe her? She'd like to hear of any gossip, and how sorry he was, and that he agreed Father should have taken her to France, and those women had no right…
He looked up from where Berthilde sat, nervously eating a pellet of owl food Regulus had given her, and frowned.
"Alfreck?"
Engrossment in his task had stopped him noticing Alfreck when he arrived, but now he took the measure of the other boy. Alfreck wore fine dress robes, cut from black velvet in an older style, trimmed with lace. He paused with a comb halfway through his hair; a pair of polished loafers sat atop his trunk.
"Reg," he breathed, spinning around and dropping his shoulders. Then his brows furrowed. "That's not Mercury, is it?"
"My mother's owl," Regulus said.
"Oh. Here, in my top drawer. Bertie was knackered the other day, took a letter to my parents in Cyprus." Regulus thanked him and cautiously did as Alfreck said. He found the bottle amongst empty boxes of sweets and old slips of parchment. It was an energising tonic, to be spilled in their water. He filled a bowl for Berthilde and coaxed her into a few sips. Alfreck returned to his hair.
"Are they still abroad?" Regulus asked carefully. Alfreck's father was one of Aunt Druella's brothers, but she had three.
"Erm. Well, Mother's visiting Grandmother and Grandfather Selwyn, but Father's at home now." Alfreck swallowed. "He was supposed to be in France, but…" This would interest Mother, Regulus knew, but somehow it seemed wrong to tell her what Alfreck said. Alfreck seemed to think a confidence existed between the two of them. Perhaps there would be something humorous and unemotional to write about, but Alfreck's lower lip trembled, and that was never an omen of light-hearted anecdotes. Regulus prepared himself.
However, instead of elaborating, Alfreck fell silent and put his comb down. He sat on his trunk and pulled on his shoes. Regulus stroked Berthilde.
"Regulus," Alfreck said eventually, pulling his laces tight. "Are you – are you very busy today?"
He had a novel and a lengthy letter promised to him, and possibly a spot of revision with Gibbon. His hand stilled over the owl's brown feathers.
"What do you need?"
Regulus and Alfreck donned heavy winter cloaks over their robes, and Regulus held his wand tight, not daring to stow it in a pocket. Alfreck slipped a velvet box inside his. With a deep breath, Regulus followed Alfreck out of the dormitory and up the stairs. Fortunately, the common room was sparsely populated. They continued through the dungeon corridors and climbed four flights of stairs, before following the Charms Corridor to the Armoury and slipping into the Turris Magnus. They came to Regulus' Arithmancy classroom, and there waited Deborah Crabbe, pink-cheeked and wrapped in an oversized furry cloak.
"Debbie," Alfreck breathed, relieved. Deborah rushed towards them and enveloped Alfreck in a tight hug, kissing his cheek. Regulus shifted. Alfreck had been vaguer than vague. He and 'Debbie' needed help with something, and it had to be secret, and he couldn't trust his brother or any of his cousins with it. Only Regulus. Regulus deemed it unlikely that Alfreck had anything devious or duplicitous planned, and so agreed to help. And… well, he thought Mother would agree that establishing friendliness with his dormmates was useful, if they were the right sort. And…
It made him feel good about himself, strangely enough. He could find no rationale behind it. He just felt…good.
They parted, and then Deborah threw herself at Regulus, wrapping her arms around him. He flinched, hard.
"Thank you," she said, burrowing her face into his shoulder. "I knew you would. I told Alfie to ask you because you're such a good friend to us and I knew you'd help." Regulus stared at her. The last time they had properly spoken – not a glance as she scurried past him out of the dormitory, or a request to please pass the potting mixture – he had said that people would call her a whore if they knew what she and Alfreck were doing. Her sudden affection perplexed him.
"I haven't told him all of it yet," Alfreck said quickly, as Regulus extricated himself from the girl. She left a smudge of sweat on his cheek. Deborah bustled back and took Alfreck's hands, pouting.
"You haven't?"
"I didn't want – I didn't want to waste any time, Debs."
"But he'll do it?"
"I -" Alfreck shot Regulus a pleading look. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He gripped his wand tighter. Deborah's chin wobbled. "Even if you don't want to do it," Alfreck said hoarsely, eyes full of fear, "can you please wait to owl my father until tonight?"
Fuck.
His mind turned over possibilities and discarded them just as quickly. He tried to think – what would an unhappy son dare do to upset his father? What would Sirius do? But half of what he thought Sirius would do didn't suit Alfreck. He wasn't about to marry a muggle-born or get her pregnant, or steal one of their petroleum carriages. He wouldn't snap his wand or light a teacher on fire or run off with the family fortune.
Regulus inhaled deeply.
"Does it involve an Unforgivable?" he asked, very quietly. Alfreck's eyes bulged.
"No!" he said, horrified, and Regulus relaxed. "No." He blinked several times. "What in Salazar's name did you think I was going to do?" It wasn't worth saying. Regulus gestured for Alfreck to lead the way.
They didn't go far before they stopped. A statue of a hunch-backed witch surveyed them with one eye. Alfreck drew his wand, and Regulus brandished his, anticipating; but Alfreck only used it to tap the statue's hump.
"Dissendium."
Regulus flinched when the stone witch's hump split in two, sliding open. What lay beyond bewildered him further. A slide started at the statue's curved shoulders and disappeared through a new hole in the wall, one which Regulus could only fit through sitting down. He turned to Alfreck in question. He did not believe that Alfreck would play a joke like this on him, but he could not see why a slide would be so important. Did they care so much about being seen that they dared not take the stairs to another floor? If they had business on the second floor, why had they met a level higher?
"It's safe," Alfreck said anxiously, paling. "I even asked a Hufflepuff about it. They wouldn't lie." Hufflepuffs were most often idiots with a tendency to value fairness, but Regulus refused to believe there was any one group of people who wouldn't lie, if it benefited them enough. It was only a matter of how high their price was.
"Where does it go?" Regulus asked. Alfreck winced and shook his head.
"Please trust me. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I need you to trust me. Please, Regulus." Alfreck's hands shook. Deborah clung to his arm. Raimund has no reason to harm me, Regulus thought. Nor Evan. And no other Rosier would dare touch me while Father is visiting with their family. They would not risk harming a Black over a petty squabble. Alfreck must know something. He must be in contact with his uncles, even if his father did not attend. The smallest, greyest flame of excitement ignited within him. He pushed it down. No. It wouldn't be. Mother would have said. Had she said? She had written pages about how much she loved him…perhaps there was a reason for her outpouring. Perhaps he had given her more reason to love him than he yet knew.
What business would Deborah have with the matter? The Crabbes would not be invited to something so important. But Alfreck seemed dependent on her. Regulus supposed it was possible she was just to see them off, or that if it was true, what was whispered about her cousin, she might well be the first step in transporting them to wherever it was they were to go.
"Very well," Regulus said. Alfreck's face sagged with relief.
"Thank you. Thank you." He smoothed down his cloak and stepped towards the slide, awkwardly climbing onto it. He held the edge tight with one hand, keeping him in place, while Deborah squeezed the life from his other.
"Is it long?" she asked. "Is it very scary?" It's a slide, Regulus thought.
"You'll be okay, Debbie," Alfreck said. "Regulus, you come last. So Debs doesn't get left up here on her own. Is that alright?"
Regulus resented being given orders by a Rosier, but if it was going to lead to such a moment of triumph, he supposed he would have to bear it for now. But why Alfreck? His brother Raimund would have been a more logical choice, or even Mulciber. Unless it was something that required fourth-years…if there was something special they could do that the others could not…
Regulus nodded his assent. Alfreck smiled thankfully, let go of Deborah, and pushed himself down the slide. He sped off into the depths, and Regulus heard a soft 'oof!'. So it was truly not far. Deborah hovered, hugging herself.
"Alfie!" she called down. "Are you hurt?" Regulus hesitated, then joined her at the edge of the slide, peering into the darkness. A long, low groan floated up. Deborah's eyes widened comically. "Alfie?"
"I'm fine!" Alfreck shouted. Extraordinarily subtle, thought Regulus. For all their sneaking, now anyone who entered the tower would be able to follow their voices. "The slide was fine, but it's slippery, so you must be careful!" A slippery slide. God help us.
"I don't want to slip," Deborah recoiled.
"I'll catch you!" Alfreck cried. Deborah was as tall as him and a touch wider. Regulus winced.
"Use the Cushioning Charm," he instructed. "On the floor. It will make for a softer landing and no trouble if we slip." Silence greeted him. We learned it this year. All the Slytherins managed it, even you, Alfreck.
"Oh," said Alfreck finally. "That's a good idea. Thank you, Regulus." His voice softened as he performed the charm. Deborah grabbed Regulus by the wrist.
"You're too good to us," she said. "Thank you." Regulus nodded, his mind discarding her words and spinning to the bigger picture. What could Alfreck do that Mulciber or Selwyn or Yaxley could not? What could Regulus do? He was a Black, of course, and perhaps that was all the Dark Lord cared for. Perhaps he recognised the prestige of the family and thought Regulus trustworthy for it. But as foolish as it was, part of him hoped it was to do with his skill, or at the very least his commitment to the cause. He did well in Defence and Charms and Study of Ancient Runes, and was accomplished at Transfiguration and Astronomy and Arithmancy too. He had talent to offer the Dark Lord beyond his name.
With coaxing from the dark hole below, Deborah climbed onto the slide and let herself go. She squealed as she sailed down, and Regulus thought he was likely to end up found by a prefect beside a slide to nowhere with the echoes of screams lingering in the halls. The moment he heard Deborah land, Regulus pulled himself onto the slide. The cold stone branded the underside of his legs. He inhaled and let go. It was a short ride down, and then he flew from the end, weightless for a moment. It was like when he fell from his broom. Not that it happened often, these days, but when he had first learned it hadn't been uncommon. There was a single moment before the fear hit, when he simply marvelled at the space between him and the ground, and then he went down.
The impact jolted him, but the cushion stopped any true harm. Regulus got to his feet. They stood in a small, dark cavern, cool but dry. Opposite the slide, a tunnel sloped downwards, disappearing into endless black. Regulus lit the end of his wand. Alfreck and Deborah copied him, standing shoulder-to-shoulder.
"I suppose it's that way?" Regulus asked, indicating the tunnel. Alfreck nodded.
"Yep. Yes. That's right." He breathed shakily, and covered his mouth with his free hand. "We have to do this." He sounded less certain. Regulus stepped forward.
"We must," he said. If the Dark Lord requested them, then they must do as he bid. If he asked them to hex each other, they must. If he gave them a task, they had to see it through. Regulus' heart raced. He thought of the collage above his bed. All those people had done what was asked of them, and had seen it to its end. And the world would be a better place for it. Mother believed it; Father believed it; Bellatrix told him all the time. The methods might seem extreme, she acknowledged, but extreme was the only way to make change. Silence would see the last of the purebloods stamped out. They had to reclaim what was theirs, and in this world, only one thing would make the mudbloods listen.
Regulus forced his fingers to still. It wouldn't do to have trembling hands. It was the sort of thing Sirius might do, and Mother would be furious. It would be humiliating.
To tell the truth, he had not imagined the Dark Lord would call him so soon. But it was an honour. Of course it was an honour. Hadn't he dreamed of it for months? Years, really?
"Well," said Alfreck hesitantly. "It's supposed to be a bit of a walk. If we're – we should start now." At least Alfreck was more nervous than Regulus. That was how it ought to be. Why did the Dark Lord choose to tell Alfreck first? Regulus wondered, but he remembered Bellatrix's words; it is not our place to question him.
It was the same thing people said about God.
"Then let's go," said Regulus.
The tunnel was dark and the ground slightly uneven, but it was not a laborious walk. Silence reigned. Deborah hooked herself around Alfreck's wand arm. Regulus mentally reviewed the spells he might need, the things he might say. My family is entirely behind you. That made him sound deficient. My wand is yours, my Lord. If Selwyn ever heard, the mockery would never end. He did not care what Selwyn thought, for the Selwyns were nobodies compared to the Blacks, but all the same Mother would not like someone to jest that her son was a…
They had been walking for near half an hour when something shuffled down the tunnel, scraping along the dirt. Deborah stupidly gasped. Regulus extinguished his wand and flattened himself against the wall. Alfreck clumsily did the same, and only then did Deborah whisper 'Nox'. If the Hufflepuffs knew about the tunnel, the likelihood was that it was another student, who similarly would want their wrongdoing to stay private. But Regulus did not think it would be wise to be seen. If the Dark Lord requested something of them that would make the paper… Better it was assumed they had simply been sequestered in the dormitory.
Something clinked – bottles of ink, Regulus thought, or butterbeer. The student groaned – a male. A bag crashed to the ground, bottles chiming musically. Perhaps it was one of the sixth- or seventh-years, on the runs they made to buy alcohol. It was a Saturday, after all. Alfreck grimaced. Deborah curled her head into his chest. Regulus tightened his grip on his wand.
"Fuck," said the student. "Fucking fucking stupid fucking idiot fucking shit."
Regulus' blood ran cold.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" The student came into view as he kicked the wall and swore even louder. He slumped down, shoving his bag out of the way, and smacked his forehead into his knees. "Go back. It's not your fault he's being so fucking weird about it." He pulled a bottle from the bag – firewhisky – and swigged. His wavy dark hair fell into his grey eyes. He swatted it aside.
Sirius.
Regulus would have rather seen Selwyn, or Potter, or even the Head Boy. He could have talked his way around a Ravenclaw first-year, or he could've played the repentant for a seventh-year prefect. There was precisely one person in the castle who would dog his steps no matter what was said or done, and who would not be convinced or bought or threatened into staying silent if he didn't wish to. And Regulus' older brother sat feet away from them, apparently hiding in a tunnel on a sunny Saturday, drinking alone.
If his blood traitor friends had been with him, perhaps he could have been convinced to return to the castle with them and ignore his little brother. But alone, there was no chance.
Regulus wished he knew the Memory Charm. Or at least the Confundus Charm.
"Fucking worthless piece of shit," Sirius said, pulling at his ear.
They had to see it through.
Regulus read every clipping he stuck on his wall. Some of them were arrested. Some of them died. Some of them fled their own families, or lost their jobs. One rumoured to be a follower of the Dark Lord had been mauled by a werewolf, and infected with lycanthropy. The Dark Lord took only the cleverest, the most devoted, the most courageous. Regulus did not know what awaited him at the end of the day. He suspected it would make this journey seem a distant memory.
He couldn't let Sirius stand between him and what was right. He couldn't keep letting his brother win. Mother was right; Sirius had a way of making the world revolve around his whims. Damn anyone else. But not today. Today, Regulus had to do the right thing.
"Sirius," he said softly, stepping out of the shadows.
"Fuck of-" Sirius faltered as he looked up. Regulus lit his wand. Sirius' face was thinner, his cheekbones shadowed and pronounced. He wore black robes, stained over his thigh. Knots marred his hair. Regulus did not often seek out his brother – they would make eye contact in the corridors, sometimes, but they seldom stopped to speak. Nevertheless, Regulus heard the rumours. He had kissed, or slept with, some girl the other week. Or he had fought with his friends. Or one of his friends liked the girl he had kissed, a Hufflepuff, but nobody could agree who. Or he had said something about Potter's girlfriend. Or he had kissed Potter's girlfriend. It had not sounded like something Sirius would do. As ridiculous as it was, he clung to Potter, and his interest in girls had seemed based in whom would most displease Mother. But then, perhaps he was on the path of philandry. How would Regulus know? Who was he to say that it was uncharacteristic? Sirius at school was a stranger.
The two brothers regarded each other cautiously. Then Sirius wiped his mouth and laughed, holding out the bottle.
"Have a drink," he said. Regulus was keenly aware that Alfreck and Deborah watched his every move. Anything he said or did could be repeated to the Dark Lord – and he had to expect that it would be.
"No, thank you," Regulus said. He didn't particularly want to sit, but he felt odd talking to Sirius from up above. Crouching would be patronising. Leaning unseemly. He bent down to re-tie his shoelace. "What are you doing here? I understand it's a busy time for the fifth-years."
Sirius waved his hand. "Fuck it, Reg. What do I need OWLs. for?" He drank again. "If I went crawling back to Mother and promised I'd marry some inbred I'd get a vault full of gold for the rest of my life. My OWLs. wouldn't mean anything. Isn't that your plan?" Regulus flinched. Alfreck made a breathy sound Regulus prayed Sirius didn't hear.
"No," he said truthfully. Sirius laughed disbelievingly.
"What are you going to do then? Magical Maintenance?" Regulus clenched his jaw.
"You shouldn't be here," Regulus said. "Go back to the West Tower. Open a book. It isn't about marks, Sirius, it's about education." Must I act the elder? Sirius' eyes narrowed, and then he grinned wickedly. Regulus despaired. That look foretold ill.
"I shouldn't be here?" Sirius smiled, a crazed glint in his eye. "Oh, Regulus. Reggie dear. Look at you!" He swung his arm around Regulus' neck and pulled him down on top of him. Regulus' elbow hit Sirius' ribs, but Sirius didn't let go, and Regulus struggled against his grasp. It wasn't tight, and didn't hurt, but Regulus' face heated knowing that Alfreck and Deborah could see him rolling around like a little boy. Sirius laughed and grabbed his hands whenever he tried to push away, and soon they were wrestling as they had as children. But Regulus was fourteen now, and too old for games. He slipped through Sirius' grasp.
"You'll spill something on me," Regulus scowled.
"So don't be a muggle and use a charm," Sirius shrugged. "Or do you want me to snap your wand for you so you can go and live like one? Mother would hate that." He was poking at Regulus' temper, but he had to be the mature one. He tried to stand, but Sirius grabbed hold of his robes and pulled him closer. "What are you doing down here? I only thought you broke the rules if it was to torment muggle-borns."
"I don't torment anyone," Regulus said firmly, pulling his clothes from Sirius' fingers. "Not like you and Potter. What ever happened to Bertram Aubrey?"
Sirius cocked his head. "Who?"
"You swelled his face up. Or Sybil Gamp? They say she has nightmares."
"Oh. Maybe." Sirius shrugged again. "More importantly, I didn't know you knew this passageway existed. What takes you to Hogsmeade? Are you going to have a wank circle over that muggle-born man killed the other week?"
Hogsmeade. They were leaving the castle? Regulus had not entirely realised. It made sense, he supposed; how would they do their work if they were on school grounds? That was assuming, of course, that Regulus' hunch was correct. But what else would Alfreck want from him, why else would they be sneaking? And then he remembered what Deborah had said: she had known he would help. There wouldn't be doubt if it was something to do with the Dark Lord, he thought. His loyalties were beyond question. Were they not? What did Alfreck want? What were they really doing?
Regulus wanted to jinx Sirius for poisoning his mind with this spiral of sabotaging thoughts. But that would not do. A good sorcerer always controlled his emotions.
"I have to help a friend," Regulus said firmly. It was not untrue; Alfreck had enlisted him for some cause or another. "We have business in the village."
"Now you don't." Sirius thrust the bottle towards him. "No other reason to go into Hogsmeade today when we have a trip tomorrow." He shook the firewhisky, and it sloshed inside the bottle. "See, darling brother, I still love you."
"It's more important than that," Regulus recoiled. Sirius frowned. He reached into his bag again, and after rummaging, retrieved a tin. He opened it. Inside were five hand-rolled cigarettes. Fine. Regulus stood.
"If you still love me," Regulus said, "then you do not need to mention this to anyone. And I will continue not to whisper a word to Mother of whatever it is you have been doing. With the girl." Sirius snorted uncouthly.
"I don't care if she knows," Sirius said. Regulus blinked.
"She would be furious," he said, confused. "You're besmirching the name of Black. She'd -" they're still watching. "She'd have her heart broken."
"Oh no, not Mother's poor heart," Sirius said. He pulled one of the cigarettes from his case and held it between his lips. With a flick of his wand and a murmured incantation its end burned orange. Sirius slouched over it, pulling in smoke.
"I need to go, Sirius," Regulus said. He turned and gestured for Alfreck and Deborah to join him. They nervously slunk out. Regulus waited for Sirius to speak, but he didn't seem to recognise them. He exhaled and put his wand in his bag, staring without sight at the earthen wall across from him. "Sirius." They had to go, for whatever reason, but all the same Regulus was uneasy at the thought of leaving his brother to drink himself into a stupor in the tunnel. "Sirius, if you break Mother's heart, you'll need to worry about your OWLs. after all. So either please her or do your revision."
Sirius tilted his head back. "It doesn't matter, Reg. I've fucked it up. I've fucked it all. Just go and fuck off, do what you like." He pulled on the cigarette again. "Go to Hogsmeade. You might learn something." He flung his arm down the tunnel. It was easier to get past him than Regulus expected. Unsettlingly so.
"Sirius," he said, without thinking. His brother looked up at him, smoke pouring from his nose. Regulus' teeth pressed together. A thousand things to say ran through his mind. He had never seen him so defeated. "You look like Mother," he said gently, truthfully. With the red in his cheeks from the alcohol, and the faraway look in his glassy eyes, he did. Sirius took after her anyway, with the same jaw, the same nose. Regulus thought if they could ever build a bridge over the river of misunderstanding that carved the chasm between them, they would find they were more alike than they knew. "You should write to her." It would nearly be enough. All you'd have to do is one half of a letter, and she'd still complain but she'd embrace you all the same. Regulus knew the story of the Prodigal Son.
He hated it with all his heart.
"You fucking -!" Sirius leapt to his feet, cigarette forgotten, wand at Regulus' throat. Deborah screamed and Alfreck shouted and Regulus grabbed his brother's wand, holding it tight.
"I'm nothing like that old bitch," Sirius growled. Regulus' throat bobbed defiantly.
"You shouldn't call her that."
"That's what she is." Sirius finally saw the other two. "Little Rosier? Oh, this is good!" His face lit up in a cruel mockery of excitement. "You're the ones from the broom cupboard! Has your father disowned you yet, or are you still keeping it under wraps? Does darling Reggie know?" Regulus gaped.
"You know?" How in Merlin's name did Sirius know?
"Fuck off, Black!" Alfreck said, with alarming outrage. He whipped his wand out and jumped in front of Regulus, which made Sirius swing his own wand from Regulus' throat to Alfreck's chest. Alfreck shook, but raised his chin defiantly. "Debbie and I aren't hurting anyone. We don't do anything to anyone, alright?" He held himself tall, feet in the duelling stance, attempting ferocity. Sirius raised his eyebrows and lowered his wand. And then he laughed.
"Fucking hell," he said. "This is incredible." He bounced from foot-to-foot like an overindulged child, looking between them. It was Regulus whom his eyes landed on. "My little brother, letting his bosom friend besmirch his family name? Did Mother put you up to it? She loves a bit of sabotage."
"No!" The word flung out of Regulus' mouth, though he could not say why he was so eager to defend himself, and Alfreck and Deborah. But it wasn't a scheme. And it wasn't as though he approved of the match, not truly. He only believed that it wasn't a disinheritable offence. They weren't diluting the blood. "Mother didn't 'put me up to it'," he clarified. For he didn't want Alfreck and Deborah to have that impression. Yes, he told Mother near everything, but he wasn't her pawn. No more than Sirius was. It simply happened that Regulus' priorities often fell in line with that of the family's. "I am up to nothing. Alfreck has a task to carry out today, and I agreed to help him."
"So you're friends?" Sirius asked, eyes glittering. "With a disappointment to the Rosier name?"
"With someone who knows the value of our culture, unlike your gang of Gryffindors," he corrected. Sirius was trying to be a thorn in his side, but Regulus could not even be cross with him. He was only glad his brother had risen from the filthy floor. "Now go do your work, and I will do mine."
Regulus stepped past his brother, leading Alfreck and Deborah on, and Sirius only leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes.
"Your work," Sirius said. "What work?" Regulus turned his head slightly, just enough to bring Alfreck into relief. His broad face was tight with worry.
"You wouldn't care for it," Regulus replied simply, leaving him behind. He followed his lit wand into the depths, supposing that the path would not branch, and it never did. All that troubled him was the sound of eight feet on the soft ground, not six. After ten minutes or so, he spun suddenly, casting light up the tunnel. The figure did not duck away fast enough. Deborah gasped dramatically. It was appearing to him that she had a penchant for such things.
"Sirius," Regulus said. His brother voiced no answer, but in the darkness came a flicker of flame, and when he moved his wand Sirius stood with another cigarette in his mouth. Regulus held nothing against smoking, but he wondered if Sirius even liked the taste, or only took it up for how it made him look.
"I want to come," Sirius said easily, joining them. "See if I like it." He darted his eyebrows. "Nothing wrong with what you're doing, is there? So why not have your beloved brother along?" Not for the first time that day, Regulus regretted the absence of James Potter. Wordlessly, he looked to Alfreck, who had received the summons – if it was what Regulus presumed. But what else could it be?
Alfreck clasped Deborah's wrist, very pale.
"You won't tell?" he asked Sirius, eyes big. Sirius blew out smoke.
"Killing anyone?" It was jarringly similar to what Regulus had wanted to know.
"No," Alfreck said, just as offended as earlier. "It's not like that. It's -" He balled his fists against his lips. "You'll know when we get there." He swung his hands down. "Two will be better than one anyway. Thank you."
Sirius raised his cigarette in a toast. "You're most welcome, Baby Rosier." Alfreck blinked several times, then hesitantly took Regulus' place at the front of the pack.
"It's not far," he said.
Regulus clenched his jaw as the four of them continued on. Mercifully, Sirius stayed silent. If it was something both he and his brother could be involved in, it was no work of the Dark Lord. He did not give Alfreck much credit for cleverness, but even he would know that Sirius was not like them. He was in Gryffindor, for the sake of Salazar. But if it was not a task for the Dark Lord – Regulus deflated with disappointment, and maybe, slightly, just the tiniest sliver of relief (only because he was not yet trained enough, only because he had been taken by surprise) – then what could it be? It seemed too important to be a matter of acquiring alcohol or other contraband.
After another twenty or so minutes, they reached the end of the tunnel. To his surprise, it was Sirius who went first. He stretched and pulled a cord that hung from the ceiling. A trapdoor swung down, revealing a square of murky light above. Regulus craned his neck and made out crates and rough-hewn walls.
"You can all reach," Sirius said, looking them up and down. "Jump and pull yourself up." He held his wand between his teeth and did just that, grabbing the sides of the hole and pulling himself through. Regulus stared. He had no desire to be discovered in someone's basement.
All the same, he could not well turn back now.
"Same as earlier," Alfreck said, creeping to the hole. "I'll help Debbie up." He jumped, grabbed the edges, and kicked his legs furiously as he heaved himself through, groaning all the while. With a grunt, his upper body hit the floor above, and his legs disappeared. His head took their place. "Come on, Debbie, you can do it," he encouraged. She hugged herself.
"What if my shoes come off?" she whined. "Or if my hair comes undone?"
"Regulus will get your shoes," Alfreck said. Regulus gave a small, beleaguered nod. Of course he would. Had he come all this way to play at being a Crabbe's maid? Deborah flashed him a grateful smile and raised her hands above her head. With a hop, she grasped the floor and shouted.
"Shut up!" Sirius hissed, diving half through the hole to scold her. "There's people up there." Oh, Merlin, it is someone's house. Regulus supposed he could say he had been misled. He had never realised they weren't in the castle until he'd climbed up. He'd put his faith in his peers, whom had let him down. No, he would never do it again. Yes, he would be more careful in future.
"I can't do it," Deborah said, kicking as wildly as Alfreck had. Her shoes flew to opposite sides of the cavern. Regulus summoned them back.
"Take my hand," said Alfreck.
"I can't let go," she insisted. "I can't, I'll fall, I'll fall." The fall was all of a foot, if that. Regulus set her shoes down neatly, lifted his wand once more, and concentrated.
"Wingardium Leviosa." Deborah let out an ear-splitting shriek, and Sirius swore louder than ever. Regulus was thankful he remained in the tunnel. He gritted his teeth with the effort, but managed to raise Deborah into the next room, and deposited her as gently as he could on the ground, given that he couldn't see.
"Debbie," Alfreck gushed. And then he looked down at Regulus. "That was clever."
"You are kind." He waited, but nobody burst into the room to catch Sirius and the others. Finally, Regulus jumped, grasped the edges firmly, and pulled himself through.
It was a basement, though he no longer believed it was part of a house. Large crates, marked with the brands of various sweet companies, stood around them, and the room was free of personal effects. A scroll of parchment nailed to the wall detailed the latest inventory, and when he sniffed, he detected a faint hint of liquorice.
"Honeydukes," he said. Deborah looked around.
"Yes. Where are my shoes?"
He summoned them easily enough, and then the four of them tip-toed up the stairs, Sirius first. For better or worse, he was just as involved now, and appeared just as invested.
"They said it was best just to run through and hope he's not there," Alfreck babbled. Sirius shook his head.
"That's shit advice." He pressed his ear to the door. Regulus stood on the bottom step. Sirius scrunched his face. "Revelio." Nothing happened. Sirius shook his wand fiercely. Only then did Regulus realise he had left his bag of alcohol back in the tunnel. "Regulus, you do it."
Regulus stepped forward, wand in hand, but hesitated. "We haven't learned it."
"Is that my fault?" Sirius pinched his lips. "Reg and I, and you two. Look at sweets but keep your head down. Normal customers." Alfreck drew in a breath.
"What if we get caught?" Regulus thought he should have thought of that on the hour-long walk.
"You use your improvisation skills. Come on, brother dear." He affected plumminess. Regulus reluctantly joined him at the door. Sirius held a finger to his lips and turned the handle, peeking out. He waved Regulus through. A lump solidified in Regulus' throat. He had never done anything like this. He never wanted to again.
But he was here now.
Holding his head high, he stepped into the shop. I'm a Black, he reminded himself. If I decide I want to go to Honeydukes, I go to Honeydukes. It isn't as if I'm hurting anyone. It was almost empty. The shopkeeper was busy searching for something beneath the counter. Regulus' heart raced. He found himself hurrying through the shop, desperate to make it to the street and to some kind of freedom, but Sirius caught his elbow.
"Look," he whispered, nearly pulling Regulus into an Acid Pop display. Regulus wrenched his arm from his brother's grasp and pretend to inspect the lemon Sugar Quills: 'Sweet AND Sour!' A creak drew his eyes, and Alfreck and Deborah appeared in the shop, eyes like saucers. Alfreck promptly picked up a chocolate frog and commented loudly on the pointiness of the packaging. Sirius cringed.
"Fucking imbecile," he muttered. "Do you make a habit of befriending the stupidest around you?"
"Not as often as you do," Regulus replied. Sirius made a face, checked the counter, and strode confidently out the door. A bell tinkled as he left. Regulus shook himself, straightened his back, and followed, hoping he looked more at ease than he felt. Nobody remarked as he stepped onto the street.
It was a Saturday, so there were people, though Regulus not nearly so much as would be there in twenty-four hours. Families with small children dawdled on doorsteps, and a couple kissed as a woman helped her grandmother hobble along. They would stand out, Regulus realised. Sirius was sixteen, Deborah fifteen, Regulus and Alfreck only fourteen, and everyone else was either under eleven or eighteen and older. They were right in the middle of Hogwarts age, and they were almost certainly doomed. If not for the cloaks he, Alfreck and Deborah wore, they would have been caught for certain in the shop.
Alfreck and Deborah burst out the door, red-faced and shaken, and Sirius at once led them down the street. How he had gone from tag-along to ringleader Regulus could not say. They turned past Madam Puddifoot's and onto Lumos Lane. Sirius hurried towards a display in the window of Spintwitches', and Regulus followed.
Once they were staring at robed mannequins swinging beaters' bats, Sirius whispered, "So where the hell are we going?"
"I'll show you," Alfreck murmured, inspecting a poster. "But don't jump to conclusions until we get a chance to speak in there. It isn't what you think." Regulus mentally marked the most disreputable places in Hogsmeade. The Hog's Head, Belby's… There was nothing approaching a district like Knockturn Alley.
"What sort of spells do we need?" Sirius asked. Alfreck shook his head, then paused.
"Can you create facial hair?" he asked. Regulus frowned. Sirius smiled.
"Yes. We need disguises? Stand here." Alfreck stepped closer to the glass and turned to face Sirius. Sirius looked over his shoulder and withdrew his wand. In a few movements and mutters, Alfreck wore a beard as dark as his hair. "For all of us?" Sirius asked.
"I think that's best," said Alfreck. Sirius turned his wand on Deborah, who went red, and laughed before facing Regulus. It was strange to have his brother's wand pointed at his face, and stranger still that there was an icy finger of fear creeping up Regulus' spine. He's my blood. I can trust him. Despite everything, he wouldn't truly hurt me. He gave Regulus a thick moustache and sideburns, and himself a touch more stubble. They might have passed for scrawny eighteen-year-olds now.
"I don't typically use any hair spells," Sirius said, looking at Deborah. Regulus frowned.
"And you regularly grow yourself a beard?" he asked.
"I have matters that require it," Sirius replied.
They followed Alfreck around the corner, where he stopped outside the Registry. It was the Scottish outpost of the Births, Deaths, and Marriages Office within the Ministry, located as to be convenient for the residents of Hogsmeade and their frequent patrons. It was made of grey stone and stood two storeys high, with white-trimmed arched windows. Regulus had never been inside. Alfreck squeezed Deborah's hand and strode ahead, pushing through the doors. Sirius raised his eyebrows. Regulus' heart sunk.
No. No. No. What had he told Alfreck? Why hadn't he listened? Some kind of fury twisted inside him, intestines writhing furiously. He had warned him! But Alfreck had said that they weren't even – doing that – that it wasn't a concern; that…
And now he had hoodwinked Regulus into playing along with this idiotic plan. Alfreck had made Regulus an accomplice.
Regulus couldn't believe he'd been deceived by a Rosier and a Crabbe, for Merlin's sake.
He followed them through the white doors.
The reception was very unlike that of the Ministry in London. It was in shades of cream and pastel, with a muted maroon carpet and cedar cabinets. To the left, a wide set of stairs led up, and to the right was a counter with a long-haired witch sitting behind it, examining a roll of parchment. It smelt of cleaning potions and gardenias. Alfreck approached the counter and Sirius looked at Regulus, a question in his face. Regulus shut his eyes. I had no idea.
"Excuse me," said Alfreck. The reception witch looked up.
"Yes?" she asked.
"I have a booking," he said, surprising Regulus. "For twelve?"
"Oh. Yes, that's right." With a flick of her wand, she summoned another scroll, and it unfurled at her direction. She peered at it. "Name?"
"Rosier. Rosier and Crabbe."
A new horror dawned on Regulus. He had assumed – he had assumed, ridiculously he now realised, that there had been some kind of Pepperup opera secret baby stashed away somewhere, perhaps under Deborah's cloak. An idiotic notion. This was much worse.
"That's right. Your wands, please, I'll need to take them out the back for verification if that's alright."
"Of course." Alfreck and Deborah withdrew their wands and gave them to the witch, who deposited them in slender boxes she then labelled. Sirius turned to Regulus with a look of wonder. Regulus' heart hammered.
"And I'll need your parental consent form," the witch said absently, tapping the boxes. They flew through a slot in the chestnut door behind her. They hadn't. Alfreck's father would never. Deborah's might, if he deemed it socially advantageous, but the Rosiers would never permit it.
"Well," Alfreck said, nervously fingering his newly-grown beard. "Our fathers are here now. To sign it in person. This is my father, Raimund Rosier, and this is Deborah's father, Nicholas Crabbe." Alfreck smiled hopefully at Sirius and Deborah seized Regulus' arm.
No.
There was no minimum age for marriage in their world, not in a true sense. The old families petitioned against it, and these days it was uncommon enough to be of little consequence. Regulus' grandparents had been the youngest bride and groom of the century, and that had been over fifty years ago. One really only had to be of wand age, on the conditions that, firstly, they were not under duress, and secondly, that they had parental consent. But now it was considered ill to marry without an OWL qualification, for there was an understanding that once married, they were unlikely to happily return to school and be separated so often. And most waited until they reached majority and had their NEWTs. Too many whispered, otherwise; and who wanted an idiot as scion of the family?
Regulus did not even resemble Nicholas Crabbe, whom he had met on occasion. Mr Crabbe was a beefy man nearing forty, not a slim boy of fourteen. Sirius had made them look like recent school-leavers, not men with families of their own. Deborah was older than Regulus; he could scarcely be her father!
The receptionist eyed Regulus with such ferocity he was certain she could see through him. Regulus vowed to curse Alfreck to Albania and back.
"Very well," she said pleasantly. "I will just need your wands or another form of identification, sirs." Panic doubled Regulus' stomach. Alfreck hastily reached into his robes.
"Not to worry, I've been carrying them for them," he said, with the voice of someone who had forgotten to do something very important. He thrust two small cards onto the desk. Blurry, water-stained photographs showed two unidentifiable dark-haired men, though the names on the apparition licenses were clear. Alfreck chuckled hollowly and elbowed Sirius. "Isn't that right, Father? You make me carry everything?"
"Oh, yes," Sirius said, in a gruff voice. "Yes, you're my sumpter."
"I'll just need to take these out the back for verification, too," the receptionist said, scratching at the collar of her neat green robes.
"Is that necessary?" Alfreck asked, strained. Regulus grimaced internally.
"Yes," the witch said sharply. "We have to check for any spells that might seek to obscure or deceive information. And we check that the license number matches our records. It's just precautionary." She offered a demon's smile. She knew. She knew, and she had Alfreck and Deborah's wands, and falsifying legal documents and attempting identity theft were not crimes the Ministry took lightly.
In other words, they were –
"Fucked," Sirius cursed under his breath. "We're fucked."
Regulus had to think fast.
"Could you check something else for me?" he asked desperately, locking eyes with the witch. Her brows furrowed.
"Of course, sir," she said smoothly.
"Thank you," Regulus said, blood pumping. "I've recently acquired a property in Hertfordshire, and I wanted to check the Ministry's regulations on protective enchantments in muggle-adjacent residential areas. I'm sorry, it only just occurred to me."
"Oh." She appeared a little confused. "Very well, sir. I'll take these to the back and find a copy of that legislation for you." She rose, taking the licenses in hand, and disappeared out the door.
"How did you know that Daddy bought a new house?" Deborah said, spinning to face him.
"Mother," Regulus said. Sirius' face darkened. Alfreck rocked back and forth on his toes.
"What do we do?" he moaned. "We're going to be caught! Father will kill me! He'll send me to Durmstrang!"
"Why are you getting married?" Sirius asked, thumbing his chin. "Is she pregnant? Wouldn't your parents allow it if she was?"
"Everyone will think she's pregnant if you marry," Regulus added, an accusation thick in his voice. "You told me you weren't, Alfreck. You said." He liked Alfreck well enough but he was not willing to ruin his reputation for the sake of him and his ill-advised girlfriend. And there was a knot of betrayal in Regulus' chest. Alfreck had known he wouldn't agree to it and kept it secret to trick him. Regulus would have respected him more if he had asked outright. The scheme tasted acidic.
"I'm not pregnant," Deborah said, wringing her hands. He had not seen the shadows beneath her eyes in the castle. "It's – Alfreck's father forbid us from being together. Raimund told him. He said if it continued he would send Alfreck to Durmstrang, and – and -" Her eyes were round with terror, her voice shaking, and Regulus realised that this part was not theatrics. He could almost smell the fear on her. "He would make Daddy sorry. He would ensure that no Crabbe ever sought – ever sought to – to take advantage ever again. And that's why I thought you would help." She turned to Regulus, holding his sleeve. "We're cousins, really. I thought – I thought – I'm sorry."
Regulus couldn't form words. He might have laughed, had she not been so earnest. He might have berated Alfreck for defying his father so, for being so wilful he'd endanger the relation of someone he loved for the sake of snogging, if Alfreck had not been so terrified.
"What were you to do if we didn't stumble upon Sirius?" he asked. Alfreck rubbed his neck.
"Er, go to the Hog's Head and pay someone." Had he been confunded?
"This is sweet and all, but we don't have time," Sirius said, looking at the door. "They're onto you, they've got your wands. You think if you get married your father will back down?"
Alfreck rubbed his face. "It'd cause a scandal. It will anyway, but it would be improper for him to curse his son's father-in-law." Alfreck hesitated. "Unless he disowns me."
"He shouldn't disown you," Regulus blurted. "She's a Crabbe, not a – muggle-born." He minded his language with Sirius standing in front of him. "It's no worse than raising a son who grows up to clean windows at the Ministry."
"Thanks," Deborah said, disgruntled.
"So you want to do it?" Sirius pressed.
"Yeah. Yeah," Alfreck said. Deborah nodded.
"Alright," said Sirius, suddenly sober. "Specialis Revelio." It must have worked this time, because he nodded. "Hogsmeade office," he said to himself. "Accio. Accio. Accio. Accio. Accio. Catch." Two wands flew through the slot in the door, and Regulus grunted as he caught a heavy tome. Sirius nabbed a quill between his fingers and a sheet of parchment in the hand that held his wand.
"What the hell?" shouted the receptionist, flinging the door open.
"Run!"
Regulus' legs reacted before his mind could. He followed his brother blindly, barrelling through the reception towards the back door. Sirius shoved the quill behind his ear.
"Specialis Revelio! Alohomora!" The door didn't budge. "Incendio!" A jet of fire burst from his wand and the door began to burn. Sirens screamed. Deborah cowered and Alfreck threw his arms around her. "Aguamenti!" As the door smouldered, Sirius doused it in water and began kicking. Regulus bellowed as Sirius' shoe caught fire. Sirius smacked the door with his shoulder and a hole finally gave. He jumped through.
"Come on!"
Alfreck leapt through and Deborah wailed as she followed. Regulus went last. Five wizards and witches in Ministry robes ran towards them, wands out, with a sixth kneeling by the fireplace, head engulfed in green flames.
They emerged into a small courtyard, bordered by high stone walls. Over one was the back of Madam Puddifoot's.
"Shit," Sirius said, as he pointed his wand at the door and muttered dozens of Shield Charms. He sagged, the energy sapping from him with each spell. "Regulus," he ordered over his shoulder. "That's the registry book. Protocol in the front, lists in the back." He tossed the quill. Its feather was large and black as night. Alarmed, Regulus rifled through. At the beginning of the book were several pages on the conducting of a wedding… A bride and groom, a witness, registration with the Ministry, a spell bound to the bride and groom's wands. Words to say. Rings. That had been the velvet box Alfreck tucked into his robes, Regulus realised. He read more. The parental consent was only a protocol of the Ministry, something they insisted on before performing a ceremony, and a condition every celebrant needed to agree to before obtaining their license. If unlicensed, protocol dictated that marriages performed by them would be invalid because the Ministry would not accept their application for the marriage to be written in the book.
But, once written in the book, a marriage was valid. It was only that one was not supposed to be able to access the book without being licensed.
"It's going to work," Regulus said.
"Are we doing it?" Deborah asked, wilting from the door. Sirius cast one more spell.
"Yep. Regulus, give me the book." Regulus did. The courtyard was sparsely decorated, with a wicker arch at the northern end and chairs stacked in the corner. Sirius swaggered up beneath the arch and took his place in the middle. Alfreck's eyes widened, and he scrambled to Sirius' left. "If anyone comes in, cast a Shield Charm, all of you," Sirius ordered. Regulus did not point out that they hadn't learned them yet.
Regulus and Deborah lingered at the opposite end of courtyard, and the gravity of the situation hit Regulus. They were committing multiple crimes. Alfreck and Deborah were getting married. He was in too deep now to give it up. So, in a kind of trance, he offered his arm to Deborah.
"I'll walk you down," he said quietly. Deborah stared, and then her face split into a watery smile. She took his arm, and they hurried up the aisle. Alfreck beamed. Despite it all, Regulus managed a tiny smile to him as he gave Deborah away.
"Thank you," Alfreck whispered. Sirius cleared his throat. Regulus took the place next to Alfreck. Where a best man might stand.
It was absurd, and unreal, and the words washed over Regulus as Sirius fought through them, wards wailing in the background. The Ministry workers shouted enchantments at the door. Whatever stupid idea Sirius had had, it was holding out for now.
"I do," said Alfreck, suddenly. But it was time. The door pounded.
"I do," said Deborah.
"The rings," Sirius urged. Alfreck pulled them from his pocket. They were cheap, simple bands that could've come from Gladrags. Alfreck pushed the ring onto Deborah's finger, and she slid the band up his. Their lips touched fleetingly. Bang! Bang! Sirius' wards fell, one-by-one. "Get your wands out," Sirius said. Alfreck and Deborah scrambled for them. Sirius, holding the book in one hand, muttered an ancient enchantment, touching his wand to each of theirs.' Bang!
"Sign," Sirius said quickly, flipping through the pages. Regulus, Alfreck and Deborah crowded around. Sirius filled in the date and location and their names, and then they all scribbled signatures. A tingle of magic ran up Regulus' arm as he did so, twisting around him, binding him to this union. Mother will flay us alive. But it was done. Sirius threw the book and quill down and made for the wall.
"Hurry!" He raised his wand above his head. "Ascendio!" Sirius shot into the air, over the wall, and landed on the other side with a thud. Bang! Another ward.
"Oh my God," said Deborah, crying. "We're going to go to Azkaban!"
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Regulus hoisted her over the wall without a second thought. "Wingardium Leviosa!" And Alfreck too. Exhaustion shot through him, his head turning mushy and warm, but he could not give up now. He couldn't levitate himself, or use the Ascension Charm, so there was nothing for it; he would have to climb. He stepped back, one, two, three.
"Stop!" shouted a security wizard. The enchantments had given out. Regulus didn't look back. He ran and jumped at the wall, scrabbling at the top. "Petrificus Totalus!" He tensed his core and used all of his might to heave himself up. The spell hit the wall an inch away from him. The sirens grew louder. More wizards spilled into the yard, wands pointed. Regulus screwed up his face and pulled. He lifted himself a little higher, but now his head was the height of the top; he glimpsed an alleyway.
"Petrificus Totalus!" He fell, rigid. Deborah screamed.
"Accio!" He was frightened, but he slammed into the wall and rolled over the top of it. Vomit rolled in his throat. He hit Sirius, hard, and they smacked into the ground. Sirius cried out in pain. "Do something!" he shouted.
"Erm – Finite Incantatem!" Alfreck said. Regulus' stiff limbs fell loose, and he sighed. His body ached where he'd been hit. Sirius shoved him off and jumped to his feet, offering Regulus a hand. Regulus took it and got up.
"Hurry, hurry," Sirius urged. They rushed down the alleyway, shouts and sirens echoing. Sirius sprinted onto the lane by the back of the greengrocer. As they skidded past the stones that made Ceridwen's Cauldrons' back wall, five MLEs appeared down the path to their right, wands raised. Regulus ran. His feet pounded the cobblestones. Sirius dove into an alleyway and the four of them ran past Honeydukes and onto the High Street. Regulus made for the way back to Hogwarts, but Sirius snatched a fistful of his robes and skirted around frightened families past Zonko's to the backstreets of the village.
Sirius knew where he was going, somehow, and never stopped running. Tears sprung to Regulus' eyes with the effort, but he followed, legs screaming. People peeked out of cottages and started to yell. Sirius vaulted over a low garden wall and began cutting through people's front yards. Regulus splashed through a pond. Deborah jumped over a cat. They turned left and right and left and left and right until they reached open fields. Sirius kicked a gate open and they dodged goats as they crossed the Common. Regulus followed Sirius over another fence and then they were heading for the mountains, surrounded by teetering cairns and grassy knolls.
They kept on until their lungs burned and their legs threatened to give way. By then, they were in the foothills, mountains rising ahead. Sirius began to inspect the larger boulders with his wand, tapping them and murmuring something. Regulus' head swum. He needed water or sleep or a Calming Draught. Thoughts raced through his head, each worse than the last; what if Mother finds out? What if she disowns me? What if she pulls me out of school? What if the Dark Lord finds out? It was too much. Deborah started making funny little noises and Alfreck's whispers to her were obnoxiously loud. It was hot in the middle of the day, terrain shadeless. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Sirius hummed jauntily. What if the Dark Lord casts me out? What if Mother snaps my wand?
He couldn't take it. They had run from Ministry officials and MLEs, trespassed, stolen, lied, impersonated, and been involved in an illegal wedding. Alfreck and Deborah were married. He looked back at them, and the two idiots were smiling, pleased with themselves and their ploy for an adjoining cell in Azkaban. Deborah fiddled with the gold ring on her finger. He couldn't take it a moment longer.
"You're fucking dead!" Regulus thrust his wand towards Alfreck's throat, seized by rage, limbs vibrating with exertion and fear. Alfreck stumbled back and landed on a large boulder. Deborah squealed and Sirius clapped his hand over her mouth.
"Merlin's fuck, Regulus, don't widow her an hour after she's been married!" Sirius said. Regulus rounded on his brother, chest hollowing.
"Everyone is going to hate us," he said, voice breaking. "We'll never get good jobs. The Rosiers will want us dead. The Ministry will be after us. Mother is going to mount our heads on the wall!" Could Sirius not see the damage this would do? A marriage against the wishes of the Ministry and society and Alfreck's parents – it was anathema.
"Calm down," Sirius said, almost bored. He dropped his hand from Deborah's face. Alfreck scrambled up. "You're a Black. You don't need a job."
"Sirius."
"You're not getting into trouble," Sirius said firmly, starting back up the path. Regulus scoffed disbelievingly. Sirius glowered over his shoulder. "I mean it. Fucking good on you, Rosier, Crabbe. Fuck your parents, fuck society. Nobody should be prevented from marrying who they love. Nobody should have to play some poncy role in pureblood society because that's what their parents want."
"How are you going to stop the Ministry?" Regulus demanded, disbelieving. He strode fast to catch up with the taller boy. He had never done anything so reckless. Sirius turned and snapped a hand around Regulus' wrist. Regulus flinched. "Let go!"
Sirius stepped closer to him, eyes a thunderstorm. "They're not touching a hair on your head. Mother will never know." He let go. Regulus pulled his arm away, rubbing the blue veins now marked with Sirius' fingerprints. "I'm your big brother, Regulus. Trust me."
A/N: For once I know definitively when the next chapter will be up - next Friday, the third of March! We are building to something I'm very excited about :)
