Oops I forgot to update this here back when I posted it on ao3 in March. Sorry.
A/N: I am going to suggest you get whatever cozy thing makes you feel better now, because this is going to be a marathon of angst. No real tw I can think of besides allusions to the Black family being neglectful.
Also this entire chapter exists because of augustlouise89 helping me flesh out this story, and I think it's all the better for it. Despite this chapter being hard to write (and read), it's one of my favorites. Who doesn't love a bit of Regulus in a wolfstar fic?
Okay I'm stalling, please enjoy, don't hate me, trust the process etc etc. Oh and if you do want to hear my playlist, it's on ao3
Sitting in bed, Sirius watched the dot on the map as he often did. It never stopped feeling pathetic and a bit stalkerish, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from glancing at it, just to make sure the man he spent far too much time thinking about was okay.
And Sirius had been distracted lately, pulled in too many directions. Gone were the easy days of pranks and practical jokes, being loud and bothersome for the fun of it and just irritating enough to get assigned detentions but not so obnoxious that they were expelled. He had classes to keep up with, Head Boy duties, training James on the spells Lupin had shown him, and then Dumbledore's ever-more-frequent requests for his presence at Order meetings. They weren't allowed to leave school property, and they were always kicked out before the secrets began to spill, but both he and James were being included more and more and Sirius could feel tension winding like a string about to snap. Something was coming, even if no one would tell them what.
And of course, he was still always aware of the approaching full moon. He wouldn't abandon Lupin to that shack alone, even if he did want to throttle the man for how deep in denial he was. Sirius had decided it wasn't his job to make Lupin see reason. The truth was there, and if he wouldn't acknowledge it, Sirius had more important things to do.
At least, that's what he told himself when he lay in his bed at night, the spot between his ribs aching as he remembered the feel of the sandy blond hair beneath his fingertips, of Lupin's hand against his chest.
It certainly seemed that Lupin wanted more than he was willing to admit, or at the very least, that he felt something in their interactions, but what that "more" was, Sirius wasn't sure. The way he treated him lately—ignoring him in the Great Hall, glaring at him during the Order meetings—you'd have been hard pressed to think the man had ever liked him at all, even as a student. Even with James bouncing in his seat next to him during the meetings in Dumbledore's office (and thank Merlin for James so that Sirius had at least one friend in the Order), Lupin's stares were enough to make Sirius squirm and look away. It was hard to reconcile all the sides of Lupin. The man who had seemed so protective of him in the hospital wing; who had pulled away from him after their detentions had ended; who had trusted him enough to look after his classes; who had cornered him in Hogsmeade.
Who had at times stared at him with the same hungry look Sirius was sure reflected back from his eyes.
It didn't matter now, he told himself with more certainty than he felt. Lupin would come and go as his moods pleased, and Sirius had to look out for himself.
He sighed as he broke off a piece of chocolate with his teeth. He searched for the man's dot where it usually was this time of night—in his office—his eyes glazing over with tiredness.
But—
Was that—
Sirius leaned into the map in confusion before reeling back with panic.
No… No !
Sirius sat up quickly and threw on his trainers, flinging a pillow at James to wake him. Thank the gods that James had been coming back to the dorms early, exhausted from all the extra quidditch practice as their match against Slytherin approached. Sirius heard the puff of air leave James' lungs as he reeled from the hit, and threw a shirt at him, hissing, "James! Wake up!"
James sat bolt upright, half-dazed and glasses still askew from where he'd fallen asleep with them on. He peeled the shirt from his face. "Wha—what is it?" he mumbled.
"Get up, we have to go."
James looked at him with concern, but didn't move. "Go where?"
"They've got him." Sirius' voice broke, the panic seeping through. "I need help. I know you don't want to, after—just please —"
But James was pulling the shirt on with haste and throwing back the blankets, stuffing his feet into his own shoes.
"Come on," he said, and Sirius felt a wave of gratitude wash over him as they raced downstairs.
He would get there in time. It would be fine. He would be fine.
Please let him be fine .
James and Sirius raced through the corridors, the pounding in his ears so loud, Sirius could hardly hear his friend on his heels. They had forgone cloaks and disillusionment, no time to worry about disguising their whereabouts as they sped through the castle. He willed his heart to calm, but it beat a frantic pace regardless.
As they practically flew down the stairs towards the tunnel, Sirius felt tears stinging his eyes and he fought to retain control of his breath. Hyperventilating wouldn't help them right now.
Please, please, please —
And then he was throwing open the door behind the mirror on the fourth floor and sprinting through the passageway.
Sirius saw him before any of them had turned around—a mass of black hair and wavy ringlets—and he shouted.
" Stupefy !" And then around him, around them— " Protego !"
James was hexing the others until they were all down, the new spells they'd learned coming to their lips easily. When they were all down, Sirius fell to the ground, collapsing on his knees as he heaved panting breaths, trying not to vomit or dissolve into inconsolable tears that would taste like blood and fear and failure.
"It's all right, Sirius," said James as he stood next to him and rested his hand gently on his shoulder, grounding him as no one else could. "It's all right. He's fine."
Sirius looked up and he was fine. In fact, Regulus Black was looking at Sirius from where he lie, bound and silent on the dirt floor, with such anger in his eyes that Sirius felt the sudden urge to laugh.
He looked to James. "What did you—"
"Incarcerous," James said. "Let's get them back inside."
James levitated the other two while Sirius grabbed Regulus by the scruff of his cloak and dragged him bodily through the tunnel. Regulus' feet scrabbled for purchase on the dirt ground and Sirius was sure that the bottom of his cloak would be torn and dirty, but he didn't care. After several minutes, the opening back into the castle appeared at the end of the tunnel, and Sirius allowed his eyelids to fall shut in relief for just a moment as he exhaled silently.
The sounds of Regulus trying to speak beneath an invisible gag were frankly becoming annoying, so Sirius finally cancelled the spell but kept tight hold of his little brother.
"Let go of me, you fucking wanker!" Regulus was grasping at where Sirius had him by his collar, hands waving comically behind him trying to reach his older brother's grip and escape it.
With a roll of his eyes, Sirius dragged them both through the tunnel opening and out the trick door in the mirror. He practically flung Regulus away from him, both boys' chests heaving—Regulus' with anger and Sirius' with the relief you find only after a very frightening situation has passed.
As he watched Regulus right himself, any remaining fear dissolved and anger took its place. Sirius looked at his brother's self-righteous scowl as he shouted, "Are you mental?!"
"Me!" Regulus' eyes went wide with disbelief. "I'm not the one who hexed you and then grabbed you by the neck to drag you back into the castle!"
"It was your cloak, you melodramatic little—"
"How the bloody hell did you even know we were in there?"
Sirius froze, taking several seconds to will his breathing to even out. Regulus didn't know about the map—no one did, except for James—and he wasn't about to divulge that secret in present company.
Whatever remaining loyalty existed between the brothers, Regulus seemed to realize Sirius wasn't going to answer in front of the other Slytherins who James was now reviving. The two Slytherin boys seemed dazed as they looked around and took in the situation, clocking Regulus and then the Head Boy.
Regulus stared at Sirius with loathing in his eyes for a moment longer before turning back to his friends. "Go on guys, I'll be there in a bit."
"Don't even fucking think about it. Both of you, back to your dorms. Now ."
Mulciber opened his mouth to argue, but Avery elbowed him in the ribs and his eyes flicked to Sirius' chest, where the symbol of the Head Boy badge had magically appeared on his clothes the moment he left the dorms—a neat little trick Dumbledore had come up with for when there was no time to dress oneself properly with the official badge.
Sirius knew the Slytherin sixth years didn't respect him at all, but he knew they knew that he could make their lives hell if they tested him. He had no problem throwing them in detention all the way through their seventh year if they pushed.
Avery and Mulciber gave him what he assumed was meant to be a withering glare, glancing once at Regulus before heading back towards the Slytherin common room. Sirius tried hard not to snort at the blatant posturing.
Regulus whipped his head back around and stared daggers at James, still silent.
Sirius looked at his best friend as well and saw the color drain from James' face. "Go on, mate, I'll meet you back in the dorm," he said quickly. "Thanks for—" He gave him a grateful look, the silent words spoken for him.
James' lips pulled into a thin smile as his eyes fell on Regulus for one more long moment. He dragged his gaze back to Sirius, nodding once before turning and walking the other way.
Sirius noted that Regulus' eyes did not stray from James' back until he had turned the corner, his arms crossed protectively over his chest.
The second James was out of sight, Regulus whipped his attention to Sirius. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Sirius' eyes went wide as the gloves came off. "With me? With me ? What is wrong with you , you fucking prat? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"I was fine!"
Sirius scoffed, the laugh echoing hollowly in the stone corridor. "Do you even know what's down there? Hm? Do you know where that tunnel leads?"
Regulus stared silently for several moments as he bit the inside of his cheek. Lifting his chin, he said confidently, "Honeyduke's."
"No, you daft—" Sirius cut himself off, the condescension dripping from his words. He scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to calm himself. Trying to remember the fear, not just the anger. After several moments, he met Regulus' glare again and said, with a quiet, steady voice, " That tunnel leads to the Whomping Willow."
Regulus winced. Good. He wouldn't tell him that it led inside the Whomping Willow, into the shack. Let him think the tree would have pummeled him. If he had gone in there on a night when Lupin was—
Sirius shivered, his attention refocusing on his brother.
"I was fine," Regulus repeated, voice quiet. His arms across his chest made him look younger, made his words sound petulant instead of confident, and Sirius had a flash of the Regulus he knew as a child, the Regulus who wanted to be able to do things well before his time. When Sirius learned to fly, Regulus had been so angry that his parents were making him wait a whole year longer to start. He would frequently stand on the ground with his arms crossed exactly like that, looking up at Sirius high above him with a pout.
Something in Sirius' chest cracked at that memory. His voice softened. "And what were you going to do tonight in Hogsmeade, Reggie?" He didn't want the answer; he already knew.
Regulus tilted his head and looked at his brother, a look of growing apathy transforming his face into a steely mask. "Nick some chocolate," he said in a flat voice.
Sirius clenched his fist so hard his nails were biting into his palm. "Don't fucking lie to me, Regulus." He met his brother's eyes but any trace of emotion had disappeared, well-practiced from years of living with their parents. Sirius felt it, could see the frost settling over Regulus' life like ice on a lake. It crept in from the edges and soon even the heat at the very center of his being would be frozen over, any future outbursts hidden beneath an impenetrable surface. Nothing warm would be left, nothing uncontrolled, nothing human . Nothing more than the cool, collected demeanor his pureblood rank demanded.
"It was them, right?" Sirius pressed. " His people?" Regulus didn't show a flicker of comprehension, but Sirius continued. "Merlin, Reg, I thought they were dragging you out of the school—"
"Why do you care, Sirius?" The question sounded genuine, but pained, and it drew Sirius up short.
"What do you mean?" His voice was low, brows drawn. "Of—of course I care."
Regulus didn't react. He just kept staring at Sirius with a drawn, resigned look that would haunt Sirius for years to come. "You got out. You're free. Just leave me alone."
Sirius felt his heart shatter and was sure the look on his face mirrored the pain in his chest. "Regulus, please—"
"No." There was nothing there now; the walls built high around any trace of vulnerability.
Sirius' breaths came in pants even though he'd stopped running minutes ago and he stared at his brother. "Can't you see what they're turning you into?" He gestured with his hand.
"Me?" And now Regulus' hands balled into fists by his sides, and he no longer resembled the boy Sirius knew as a child. But it wasn't emotion; it was scorn. Loathing. Inaccessible. "For someone who worries so much about me doing Dark magic, you seem pretty damn blind to what your side is willing to do."
Sirius took a step back as if he'd been pushed. "My side?" he asked, voice cracking. "Are you not on my side anymore?"
Regulus' laugh was full of contempt. "When have you ever wanted me on your side, Sirius?"
Sirius saw red as the brothers threw words through the air like knives. "When did you sell your soul just to be another copy of our father?"
Regulus flinched. Perhaps the shields weren't quite stone—not yet. Perhaps the ice hadn't fully formed. "Are you proud, Reggie, to be as heartless as he is? To be as dark as our noble name suggests?"
Regulus rolled his eyes and turned to leave. "And I'm the dramatic one."
But Sirius wasn't done with him yet. "No matter what happens at least I can look myself in the mirror and know I don't use Dark magic to get what I want!"
Regulus spun on his heel to face Sirius again. "Oh right, I suppose Dumbledore and his little army of students is somehow good magic?"
Sirius looked at him, dumbfounded. How did Regulus know that Sirius had already been recruited for the Order? But the look in his eyes must have given him away, because Regulus sneered.
"I'm sure your new family is so… proud ," he spat. "The Potters must be thrilled they got the better Black brother in the end."
Sirius' mouth opened but no sound came out, and his cheeks burned with a heat he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years, one his mother would scream to realize she could no longer inflict.
Shame.
The wave of guilt was quickly followed by one of indignation. "Regulus, this…this isn't…I'm worried about you , you idiot. And what they're doing to you."
But Regulus shook his head slowly, and his lip began to tremble as the ice cracked. "I don't think this is about me or our family or my friends at all," he said, his eyes brimming with angry tears. "I think it's about you , and your friends, and how you always choose them."
Sirius opened his mouth to speak, to fight back. "Reggie, no—"
But his brother cut him off. "No! No, Sirius. Don't lie to me." Regulus threw his arms out in anger and Sirius saw the moment it happened; the pressure behind the dam was too great and Reggie had never been good at treading water. "Don't pretend you care about me!"
"Regulus!"
"You're only angry because you think I hurt James! You think I turned my back on James, but you're wrong!"
Hot angry tears fell onto Regulus' cheeks and he was once more, briefly, the brother from Sirius' childhood. Sirius hadn't seen him explode like this since they were kids, when their parents had tried to divide the family, to drive a wedge between the brothers by assigning one child to each side of the adults' arguments. His first burst of accidental magic had been shielding his younger brother with his body and somehow apparating them both outside. As his parents rushed into their yard, they looked terrified in a way Sirius had never seen on them before and never would again. But it stopped their arguing, at least for a little while.
It was only looking back later, with the advantage of age, that Sirius felt the full weight of that day, the unfortunate burden of truth; Walburga and Orion had simply been afraid of losing both their heirs at once.
And their youngest, their only remaining heir, was standing in front of him, tears streaming down his face, and Sirius felt helpless to protect him this time.
Regulus' words rang in his ears. James . What had he meant by that?
"What are you saying?" Sirius asked quietly.
The expression on Regulus' face would haunt Sirius until the day he died; sad, defeated eyes and a voice that cracked when he spoke doing nothing to hide his pain. "James left me , Sirius. He left me, and you still chose him."
Sirius felt as if he'd fallen onto his back from a great height and all the air had been knocked out of him, a soft, strangled cry leaving his throat. "He…he left you?" The words felt strange on his tongue. Patently false. The way James had come back to the dorms crying that night… "That can't—I…Regulus, I didn't know."
Regulus scoffed, dashing away the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand. "Of course he would let you think otherwise."
Sirius tilted his head to the side, as if trying to solve an impossible puzzle. "But why?"
"Because he's a prat."
"No, I mean…why would he leave you?"
Tiredness crept into Regulus' expression, but he met Sirius' gaze. "I know what you meant." He took a deep breath that sounded more like a shudder.
Sirius waited patiently, barely breathing.
"He left because…because he didn't like what I was 'becoming.'" Regulus held the air quotes an extra beat as if even lowering his arms might take more strength than he had. "I hadn't even done any Dark magic yet"—Sirius winced at the yet —"and he still left. And you…you chose him."
"No," Sirius said, disbelief turning indignant. He hadn't known what had happened, it wasn't his fault— But would he have chosen any differently? If he had known the truth, would he not have supported James anyway? He wouldn't have stood for Dark magic either. And Regulus knew that. There was no use pretending. But that…that didn't mean he'd chosen James . "But I can't pretend I blame him for it."
Regulus looked like he'd been slapped. "You chose Potter over your own family," he spit.
"I chose good magic over bad! Can't you see what it's doing to you? Please—" and Sirius was not above begging, not above pleading with his own brother for the sake of his soul, even if it was one he would never completely understand, "—let me help you."
Regulus shook his head, large round eyes turning sorrowful as he sagged with exhaustion and his lip jutted out just a bit. "You can't help me. It's too late." His hand curled tighter where it was wrapped over his left arm.
Sirius' eyes tracked the movement and his words became rushed. "No it's not. Please, Regulus, I—" Sirius grabbed his wand and tapped a spot on his wrist, the metal cuff that had been glamoured appearing once more. He slipped it off and held it out to Regulus. "Here."
Regulus just looked at it, the bracelet that Sirius had kept in his dorm and spent hours enchanting. The one with the Black family crest on it.
His arms still crossed over his chest, Regulus looked up at Sirius with a bored expression, one Sirius recognized as a mask they'd learned as children when they desperately wanted something and were afraid it might be taken away. "What is it?"
"It's for you," Sirius said, gesturing it towards to the younger boy again.
Regulus raised one eyebrow. "Is it for me or are you just giving it to me?"
"Would it make any difference?"
Regulus said nothing.
"It'll—it'll help. It's got protective enchantments in it. I even added the ability to make an emergency portkey. You just say our family's motto. I had Kreacher help, so it should be able to get you out of most places."
Regulus stared at him warily. "You hate Kreacher."
Sirius shrugged. "I hate you less."
Regulus' eyes went to the bracelet again; he bit his lip, thinking for a few moments, before his hand darted out and he quickly snatched the metal cuff off of Sirius' outstretched hand.
And walked away without another word.
Sirius stared after him for several long moments, his chest still heaving like he'd run a mile, stomach clenching. But there was nothing more he could do.
He turned to head back towards Gryffindor tower, shoving his hands in his pockets as he went, knowing sleep would be unlikely to find him now. He'd barely made it a few feet before his eyes caught sight of someone and he stepped back in surprise. Lupin was standing just by the corner of the wall, where he could have easily hid around the corner to witness the confrontation, but Sirius found he didn't have the energy to care how much he'd overheard.
Without any of the familiar warmth his professor's presence usually filled him with, Sirius walked forward to pass by Lupin and head back to the dorms. But Lupin put his arm out—not truly covering enough space to block Sirius' path, but enough to suggest that he wanted him to stop. So Sirius did.
And when he met the man's eyes, something in his face, something in the way he was looking at Sirius, had changed.
"I heard the wards go off, outside my office, while I was on rounds. I came looking, heard the shouting. I didn't mean to eavesdrop—"
"It's fine." The exhaustion in Sirius' voice was evident and he was too upset with Regulus to care what Lupin thought of the whole ordeal, or of him. He just wanted to crawl back into his bed and pull the covers over his head, to pretend the entire war that was rushing towards them might suddenly go away.
But Lupin was still looking at him with that strange look in his eyes. "I didn't know your brother was in trouble. You never said…"
Sirius snorted half-heartedly. "We haven't exactly talked much lately, have we?" He met the man's gaze with his own tired eyes. "Would it have mattered?" There was no hint of a sir , no illusion of deferring to authority—not when the entire wizarding world was about to be split down the middle and he would be expected to fight against his own brother. There was no room left for anything else.
"The pressure on him, with your parents," Lupin whispered as if he were just realizing it for the first time. "It must be astronomical." He tilted his head, as if trying to understand some unsolvable problem. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you."
Sirius stared back. "I tried."
Lupin flinched, his cheeks suffusing with color, but Sirius didn't have it in him to feel bad for the man. The embarrassment soon faded and Lupin's green eyes narrowed with a sort of protectiveness Sirius had only seen him display once before. "You shouldn't have to do this all on your own."
Sirius shuffled his feet, the only sign of discomfort he displayed. "He's a Slytherin, and a Black. I don't expect anyone else to care." He sighed. "And he's already in so deep. I can't stand by and watch and do nothing ." He paused, looking at Lupin, imploring him to understand. "He's just a kid."
Lupin looked at him and the retort was clear on his face: so are you .
But Sirius' laugh was hollow. "I was never a kid, not in that family. I was always the heir. And I left him there. He was mine to protect, and I left him there."
He stepped to the side to walk past Lupin, and this time Lupin let him.
