When morning dawned and the room was bathed in the soft glow of sunlight, it became clear that this was not the hospital wing, and he was not at Hogwarts any more. How had he not noticed these green curtains last night, how had he foolishly thought the only place he could've been sent was the hospital wing and not St. Mungo's?
Even if the curtains weren't enough to confirm where he was, the lime green robes of the Healer who slid open the curtains around his bed made it painfully clear, as did the rest of the room he could now see—rows of beds with mostly grown men and women, not students.
"How are you feeling, dear boy?" the healer asked.
"I feel fine."
She ignored him and checked his temperature. "Still a little feverish..."
"I'm fine."
But the Healer didn't listen to him. She rummaged around in a cupboard to his right, lost in her own world until a second Healer approached them.
"Is he awake?" he asked.
The first Healer looked up from the cupboard and nodded. "Yes, you may send him in now."
The wizard nodded and strode off towards the door. Regulus wanted to ask who he was getting—did he have a visitor? Him... who was he? Father?
He didn't get the chance to voice his questions; the Healer came back from the cupboard to hand him a potion. "Here, drink up. You'll feel better soon," she said, and left. She didn't even wait for him to finish.
He looked at the liquid in the goblet. It was a thick, almost (but not quite) syrupy substance, a dark blue in colour with a strange, purple hue. When his lips came in contact with it, they glowed red-hot, although they didn't burn. A pleasant tingling followed the potion through his gullet into his stomach, which flared up as if he had drank hot chocolate—but the sensation lasted for much longer, and all feelings of hunger that had stayed with him since last night promptly disappeared.
He stared back at the goblet in awe and drank the rest of the potion before putting it on his beside table and lying back, relishing in the full feeling of his stomach that he hadn't felt in what felt like forever. Just before he drifted off into another dream, a familiar voice caught his attention: "Good morning."
He snapped up and stared at his brother, who stood there, grinning as he leaned over the bed. In his arms he held more sweets than Regulus had seen in a long time.
"Why are you here?" he asked. Sirius was probably the last person he'd expected to see. Last time they spoke hadn't gone too well, after all.
"What do you mean? Can't I visit my favourite brother?"
"I'm your only brother."
"Indeed. You're lucky the bar's so bloody low."
He flashed him a small smile and patted the bed. "Come sit."
Sirius obliged and sat down, putting the sweets between them on the bed. "Chocolate frog?"
"No, thank you."
He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said as he opened one. The frog jumped out of the box onto the bed but Sirius was more interested in the card.
"Who did you get?"
"Another Dumbledore," he complained. "I swear that man's got too many of those."
He chuckled. Perhaps this wasn't so bad after all. He'd missed him. Maybe, if Sirius had missed him as well (and why else would he be here?) they could start over. They could do this the right way. Who cared about Slytherin and Gryffindor when they were brothers by blood? That ought to be stronger than a school house. That ought to mean something. It was a bond that couldn't be broken, as Sirius had said so many years ago.
He travelled back to the hospital wing through the Floo Network a few days later and the trip left him disorientated. Pomfrey told him to rest, so he did—he fell asleep and dreamt of fire and of matches, and when he woke up again he was still in the hospital wing.
There didn't seem to be many people in here. The bed next to him had the curtains shut around it but all other beds appeared to be empty.
How long had he been asleep for? How long had he been in here? All the resting and all the sleeping he did made the days blend together and yet he remained exhausted.
He was about to resign to the exhaustion and go back to sleep when the double doors to the hospital wing opened and Sirius came in, followed by that Lupin boy. He sat further up in the bed and tried to get his brother's attention—Lupin went straight for Pomfrey's office and yes, Sirius came towards him!
His brother ran through the room and drew the curtains shut once he had reached the bed. He hadn't brought anything with him this time, unfortunately. Regulus wouldn't have minded a Chocolate Frog now.
"Hello," Sirius said after he settled down on the bed.
"Welcome back," he smiled. Maybe Avery setting him on fire hadn't been so bad after all. Sirius was talking to him, he was freely, willingly seeking him out. All it took was a little fire—and he didn't even remember most of what had happened!
"It's good to see you're awake again."
Regulus nodded. "Of course I'm awake!"
"Well, you were asleep a long time, it's not that natural, you know. They wouldn't let me visit for a long time after you first got hurt—neither Pomfrey nor the Healers. They haven't even told Mother and Father."
"They haven't? Why not?"
"Not sure. I think they want to keep things quiet."
"Did you tell them?"
"Me?" He laughed. "No. Never."
A gnawing ache echoed through his body. He'd kept them in the dark? Their own parents? And for what...
"Right," he mumbled. He'd have to write to them later. They deserved to know. They had to know. He couldn't just keep this from them.
"What's it like?" Sirius asked.
"What's what like? Being set on fire? It hurts." The words came out weaker than he had intended.
"Never would've guessed," Sirius grinned. "What about staying here, though? And St. Mungo's? Were you really asleep the whole time?"
"Err-"
"Are the Healers there as strict as Pomfrey? Worse?"
"Well-"
"What about the food? Is it as bad as they say?"
"I don't-"
"And what about Avery, have you seen him yet?"
"Wait, Avery? Avery is here?!"
"He just came back from St. Mungo's this morning. He's in the bed over there," Sirius said, gesturing to the left. "Gave himself a nasty time with that spell of his, or so I heard. He's not as experienced as he likes to believe."
"Good."
"Good?!"
"Yes, good."
Sirius chuckled in surprise. "Merlin, Reg, you're savage."
He shrugged to mask the satisfaction he felt. After all, Avery had brought it upon himself by casting that spell, by boasting about his skill, by playing with things that ought not to be played with—Fire. Any child could tell you that.
The curtains ripped open and he winced at Pomfrey's harsh voice as she said sternly: "What did I say about visitors?! OUT!"
"It's not gonna kill him to see me-"
"He needs to rest, Mr Black. Rest he will not be able to get with visitors, and especially not visitors such as yourself. Now get out."
"Well, I, err, I wasn't visiting! I was only handing him his, err—his homework!"
Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes. "You were handing him his homework?"
Regulus had to suppress a laugh at the idea, but Sirius remained a straight face. "Yes, me. He is my brother and he's missed nearly three weeks of schooling. Since nobody else even bothered trying to help him out-"
"I am sure you mean well, Mr Black," said the matron, though her voice had softened, "but your brother needs rest more than anything. Homework can wait."
"But-"
"If you really care about his wellbeing as much as you let on then it would be wise not to visit him without my permission again—whether it is to hand him homework or anything else."
Defeated, Sirius bid goodbye and left.
Regulus turned to the matron. "What's today's date?"
"The eighteenth of January. Why?"
His mouth fell open. He wasn't sure what he had expected her to answer, but he hadn't expected Sirius to have been telling the truth. Nearly three weeks indeed...
"How are you feeling?" she asked, ignoring his surprise.
"I feel fine."
A wave of her wand unveiled his legs, the bandages unwinding and revealing faded red blisters and rosy new skin.
"Nearly healed... do they still hurt?" Without warning, she pressed the tip of her wand against his leg—the fire was back, burning, stabbing, melting his skin away as it had done that Monday. Yet, when she lifted it, all pain vanished.
"Go back to sleep. You need the rest. Try not to think about catching up on schoolwork for now—there is still plenty of time for that."
He nodded, although school was the absolute last thing on his mind at the moment. Three weeks, gone. Three whole weeks. It was madness.
"Rest, Mr Black," Pomfrey reminded him once more before leaving him alone. Yes, rest seemed like a good idea, but how could he when he was in such a state? And yet, he found a way and lay back, closing his eyes once more. Rest wasn't so hard, was it?
The hospital wing grew silent as Pomfrey's footsteps disappeared in the distance. He tried very hard to fall back asleep, but in the silence every sound was amplified and he couldn't help but think he heard the ruffling of blankets, a curtain slipping open, footsteps...
He opened his eyes to see he was face-to-face with Avery.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
He'd expected insults, accusations, anything mean-spirited to come from his classmate who looked far less intimidating in his hospital wing pyjamas. What he didn't expect was a hurt look on his face and the words "I'll be going then. Thanks for the warm welcome" spoken with a voice that sounded as if it was about to break.
Avery didn't return the rest of the week.
January was already nearing its end when he was finally dismissed, on Sunday just before supper. He hadn't had any other visitors any more due to Pomfrey's strict prohibition and his own attitude towards Avery (which he did not feel sorry for!) and it was quite overwhelming to be back in the big castle on his own. His burns had completely healed without a trace and his legs no longer hurt, but he was one uniform down so he had some explaining to do to his parents sooner or later. He still couldn't believe Sirius hadn't told them anything. Some brother he was.
The moment he set foot into the Great Hall, Arnold and Catharina came running at him.
"You're back! You're back!" they yelled, throwing themselves at him, embracing him tightly.
Their arms were suffocating and he tried to pry away from their grip. "I'm back, I'm fine, let me go, please!"
Couldn't they just leave him alone and sulk about him not sharing his cheating supplies?
The twins dragged him to where they sat at the House table and filled his plate with food he didn't want to eat—he'd just had another one of those potions and he was so full the very smell of the food made him nauseous. He never should've come here, Pomfrey had even told him to go straight to bed! That had been the condition for his release, yet he had to be stubborn and go here. It was his own fault he was sandwiched between the twins.
"They didn't even expel that Avery," Catharina complained. "He says it was an accident—bollocks if you ask me, he's top of the class in everything!"
"He didn't even get detention," Arnold added, "he's got Slughorn wrapped around his finger."
"And Manning didn't do anything about it at all, she just ran out of the classroom the moment you caught fire!"
"She got McGonagall, so that was probably the cleverest thing she's done all year," Arnold said.
"Still! She could've put out the fire, couldn't she?"
"I doubt it," Regulus interjected. "At this rate she might as well be a Squib."
"Nothing wrong with that," Arnold said defensively.
Regulus snorted, which earned him foul looks from both Peasegoods. Nothing wrong with their Transfiguration teacher being as good as a Squib, really? It was one thing to think Squibs in general weren't that bad, but a Transfiguration teacher?!
The Peasegoods kept complaining about all the things Avery had done that year. Why did they care so much? Avery was childish. Yes, the fire incident was bad, very bad, but this was Hogwarts. Surely he wasn't the first student to be set on fire, seeing the kind of people that taught here. And he wouldn't be the last.
He poked the food on the plate in front of him a few times, then got to his feet. "I don't feel so good," he said, "I think I'm going to bed."
The Peasegoods sprang to their feet as well. "We'll walk you to the Common Room," Arnold offered.
"No, thanks, I-"
"Nonsense! It's no trouble, come on."
With a Peasegood on each of his sides, they left the Great Hall and went down to the Common Room. They didn't leave him alone until he was in his own dorm and even then he could hear Arnold humming outside the door.
It went on like this for the entire week. They walked him everywhere: from class, to class, from the Great Hall, to the Great Hall, from and to the Library and the Common Room and anywhere else he wanted to go, they were there. Their presence kept others at bay—even Sirius and Narcissa hadn't really talked to him since his release!
And yet they were relentless even if he asked to be left alone. He was stuck with them, and stuck for good. All of this had one upside, and one upside only: the Peasegoods helped him in class and outside with homework and by the time Valentine's Day came around he was all caught up.
He could transfigure matches to needles (no thanks to Manning, but all the thanks to the Peasegoods and McGonagall, who had taken over the class). He knew the basics of the Switching Spell theory. He could brew more potions than he thought he'd be capable of and caught up on the charms that Briseis was teaching – he'd stopped letting them read the textbook after Christmas, apparently – which included the Levitation Charm, his personal favourite. Sending objects flying into the air made him feel very powerful and strong, and soon enough no object was safe from his Wingardium Leviosa.
Flying was needless to catch up in, since he already knew how to fly, and it turned out Astronomy lessons had been cancelled more often than not due to the bad weather disrupting their vision. Herbology turned out to be very... boring. Aside from the occasional lecture on plants such as Devil's Snare, they only worked on flowers and the like! A waste of time, although very convenient if one were to miss a month's worth of its classes. It hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. The same went for History of Magic, for obvious reasons.
The only class that proved to be relentless was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Blackthorn didn't go easy on Regulus for missing school—after all, as he said, the Dark Wizards out there wouldn't either. But whilst that was very true, Regulus couldn't help but feel as if he was being treated unfairly.
It wasn't until lunch on the 23rd of February that Avery returned from the hospital wing to sit down opposite them and say "Sorry", much to Regulus' and both Peasegoods' surprise.
"Sorry?"
"Yes. Sorry. Shouldn't have done it. Happy now?"
"Very," he said, scooping some beans on his toast. An apology, from Avery himself! The day could not get any better, and yet it did—the Peasegoods 'allowed' him some time on his own when they interrogated Avery that evening, and he escaped to Narcissa by the warm fire in the Common Room, where he was met with his very own interrogation of how he had been doing and how he was feeling now, why he didn't come see her before and all similar questions imaginable. He answered them all patiently the first time, even the second time she asked them, but when she kept pushing he lost his patience.
"I'm fine," he snapped, after being asked for the dozenth time.
"But they didn't even punish the boy who did this! You're not fine."
"I am. Avery got enough punishment by hurting himself, anyway."
Narcissa raised her eyebrows, but it seemed to get her to dropped the subject. Finally. "I'm getting married this summer," she said curtly.
"You are?"
"To Lucius."
"Of course." Who else? But that was rather quickly, wasn't it? And what would happen if both his cousins were married? Would she ignore him as much as Bella did? Would she promise to send sweets and not send a thing for months on end?
"... summer wedding. Weddings are supposed to be fun, after all."
He hummed and zoned out again when she started to talk about what she'd wear. Two weddings in one year... well, technically two years, but it was a lot to deal with nonetheless.
February with its few days left them and became March. Avery avoided him, Narcissa was too preoccupied with her studies to pay attention to him, the Peasegoods had lost interest in following him everywhere and he hadn't been able to see Sirius yet, nor had Sirius attempted to get to him even without the twins trailing him. Sirius had his own pack of students protecting him, those three 'friends' of his, making it near impossible to catch him on his own whenever Regulus had some free time to try and seek him out.
Free time became sparse when March turned to April as all their teachers shifted their focus to the end of year exams. On one hand they were told to study hard, and often, on the other hand the teachers set so much homework they barely had time to study at all. It was all very contradictory, but such was life at Hogwarts.
And so it wasn't until the last Sunday before the Easter holidays that he found his brother. He found him sitting beneath one of the tables in the Transfiguration classroom when he came looking for a quiet place to study now the library and Common Room were crawling with students.
He crouched down behind him and said, without warning: "Are you going home for Easter?"
Sirius jumped up, hitting his head against the table as he scrambled to his feet. "Merlin's pants! How did you know I was down here?"
He came out from under the table and straightened his robes. "You're not hidden all that well," he laughed.
"I was hidden perfectly well!"
"Then how did I know you were here?"
"Magic."
He sighed. "Well, are you going home or not?"
Nowit was Sirius' turn to laugh. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to."
"But why?"
Sirius groaned. "Honestly, Reg! It's so much more fun to stay here than sulking around at home."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
He rolled his eyes. "And you're so all-knowing! How do you know it'll be more fun here, you rarely go home! Besides, Bella and Rodolphus are hosting together-"
"That's all the more reason not to go!"
"What do you have against Bella?! What's she ever done to you?!"
"Merlin, you really are thick, aren't you? We already had this conversation. You know what I have against her. The better question would be why you don't."
Not that again. "She's our cousin. She isn't all bad."
Sirius shook his head. "Just... grow up, will you? Open your eyes and see what's going on here. You're as oblivious as the rest."
"What in the name of Merlin are you talking about?"
"Fine. Play it that way. Have a nice Easter," he spat, taking a few large strides over to the door.
"Sirius! Sirius get back here!"
But he left, slamming the door shut behind him. Regulus didn't move. He stood there for a good few seconds just thinking about where it had gone wrong. Was it something he said? Something he did?
Then he spotted some parchment on the floor near the door. He came closer, picked it up and turned it over. It appeared to be a letter.
He must've dropped it, he thought to himself. He opened the door and spotted Sirius leaning against the wall a few feet over.
"Sirius!" he called out, waving the letter.
"NO! I won't let my baby brother tell me what to do. Go play with dolls if you're so desperate to control the lives of others," he yelled back without looking up.
"I'm not-"
"Just leave me alone!"
With that, Sirius sprinted off once more, leaving Regulus behind in the doorway.
He leaned against the doorpost and looked at the letter in his hands. He'd have to give it back some other time. He couldn't keep it, he couldn't read it, he couldn't do that to his brother... could he?
On the other hand... Sirius had had his chance. He could've got it back if he hadn't been so dramatic, if he hadn't ran off because of a simple question. All he'd asked was if he was planning on going home for Easter! That was all! He'd given him all the space he needed, he'd given him all the time in the world to spend with those good-for-nothing friends of his. He could've pestered him every day, begging him to talk but he hadn't. He'd been a very patient little brother all along, and he did not deserve this kind of treatment in return.
He had the right to know what kept his brother busy, and if he wouldn't tell him, then he had the right to find out some other way. And if that other way was a letter, then so be it. If Sirius didn't want him to read the letter then he shouldn't have dropped it, he should've paid closer attention to his own possessions.
He walked back to the desk Sirius had sat under just moments before and sat down in the chair. He carefully unfolded the letter and stared at it for a moment. It was oddly familiar, yet completely foreign at the same time—the ink, the handwriting, the paper it was written on...
Dear cousin, it read, and his stomach turned over. He knew who this was. He knew exactly who had written this letter.
The name on the bottom of the page confirmed it.
Andy Tonks.
