It didn't last. Of course it didn't last, it had been stupid to think otherwise.

The illusion broke after only a few seconds, with Avery's loud arrival. He crept up behind Sirius just to exclaim: "What's he doing here?" as if he had the right to question why Sirius sat at the Slytherin table, as if he had the right to disturb this brotherly meeting.

Before Regulus could answer to say that Avery should mind his own business, that he had invited Sirius to the table for his birthday and that Sirius was far better company to keep... before he could even think of the words to speak, Sirius was already on his feet, his wand in his hand, ready to fight.

Avery laughed and patted his pocket. "Don't tempt me."

Sirius pointed the wand straight at his face. "Or what?"

"We'll send your little friend back to the hospital wing," said Avery nonchelantly.

Regulus sank back in his seat. He ought to do something. Anything. This was likely to end in a huge fight if he didn't, and yet... he sat still. He glanced away but once, to see how many teachers were in the room. The answer wasn't to his liking; he saw that only two, neither one familiar to him and both engrossed in seemingly drunken conversation. The state of this school...

Avery and Sirius still stood facing each other, unmoving. Sirius still had his wand at Avery's face; Avery still flashed him that cheeky grin, his hand resting inside his pocket, undoubtedly holding his wand just in case Sirius really decided to fight.

But he didn't. Regulus was convinced the two would tear each other apart, but Sirius pocketed his wand.

Avery removed his hand from his pocket. "Wise choice, Black," he commented and he moved past him to sit down opposite Regulus, in the seat Sirius had sat moments before.

"Don't think you're off the hook," Sirius murmured, loud enough for Regulus to hear. He caught his eye one final time before he ran off.

Regulus took this as a sign and jumped to his feet. He ignored Avery's protests, stuffed his timetable into the pocket of his robes and swung his heavy schoolbag over his shoulder.

He hurried after his brother and caught him running outside, towards the lake.

"Sirius!" he yelled, "please slow down, I'm not that fast, I've a heavy bag on me!"

But he only quickened his pace until he arrived at the water and couldn't run any farther. He fell down to his knees and assumed a sitting position.

Regulus reached him not long after, totally exhausted and out of breath. He dumped his bag and sat down next to his brother. Sirius didn't look up from the water. He didn't acknowledge he was there.

He inhaled deeply, steadying his breathing, and put an awkward hand on his shoulder. "Are you OK?"

Sirius didn't look up. He only snorted. "What do you think?"

Regulus removed his hand and twiddled his thumbs as a distraction. Of course Sirius wasn't OK, what was he thinking, asking that?! He looked down at his hands, stopped twiddling at once – he wasn't a girl – and forced himself to say something.

"Did Mother and Father send you anything for your birthday?"

It worked. Sirius glanced up at him. "Not yet. I'm not sure why."

"But... it's your birthday."

"I know it's my birthday," said Sirius through gritted teeth.

Regulus fell silent. He hadn't meant to upset his brother, not at all—his words were to serve as a distraction from what happened moments ago. But Mother and Father hadn't sent anything to Sirius yet and that was concerning (although, of course, there was still time for them to. Perhaps they only waited so they could give him something big? But that didn't feel right, either).

"Do you... you don't think they're still mad?" he wondered out loud.

"I haven't done anything wrong," Sirius said, "I literally haven't done anything wrong."

"Well, what about Muggle Studies?"

Sirius snapped his head back towards him. "What about it?"

"Are you taking it? Mother and Father-"

"So that's why you're spying on me? Did they put you up to this?"

Baffled, he took a moment to recollect himself. What was he on about? This was the second time he was accused of spying without any reason!

"Forget it," said Sirius, getting up. "You can tell Mummy and Daddy I'm not taking that class. Get them off your back, then get off mine."

"They're not on my back, they're not on anyone's back. Forget I asked, OK? Please just sit down... Let's not fight."

Sirius hesitated. He neither walked off nor sat down.

"I didn't want you to leave, you know," Regulus said, trying to reassure him. "And you can sit with Slytherin any time you like."

"As if I'd want to," Sirius spat back.

"You don't have to... but it'll be fun. Like old times. Remember?"

Sirius hummed.

"Won't you sit with me more often?"

"You can join the Gryffindor table too, you know," Sirius retaliated.

"It'd kill me."

Sirius scoffed. "So would Slytherin, for me."

"That's not fair. What has Slytherin ever done to you?"

Sirius gave him a cold laugh. "What has Slytherin done? Well, I don't think there's enough hours in the day if I want to tell you about all that."

"Try."

"It's that friend of yours, for starters. The only time I want to see him is at his funeral."

"What? Why?"

"After what he did, you dare ask me that question? After he gloats about it even now, threatens to do it again?"

"What are you talking about??"

"Not this again," Sirius said. "You know full well what I mean!"

"No, I do not!"

"Oh, so that duel you supposedly didn't attend doesn't ring a bell for you?!"

"You're not still mad-"

"Yeah, I am mad! I'm mad-

"But it's been ages," he yelled, interrupting his brother, "and I told you I didn't try to set it up to fail! I told you I was caught!"

"I'm mad that you're still lying about it!"

"But I'm NOT LYING!"

"YOU ARE! I'm not stupid! I've eyes and ears! I was there, I saw you and your pal Avery—don't give me that look!"

"I'm not giving you any look! I just don't know what-"

"You know very well what I'm talking about and until you apologise to James about it‐"

"Apologise about WHAT?!"

"That's it. This was a mistake. I'm through with you, I'm through with your friends, I'm through with Slytherin, I'm through with everything—don't you come near me, you hear me? Don't you fucking come near me again!" Sirius turned his back on him and ran off, and Regulus just sat there. He watched him leave, he watched him go and he did nothing. He meant to do something; he meant to say something to get him to stop and turn back around but he just... didn't. It was as if the words refused to be spoken. He could only sit there, by the lake, all by himself.

He sat there for quite some time. The morning was long gone when he next moved, and he only got up because he knew the whole castle would be out on the Quidditch pitch. Slytherin were playing Gryffindor, and that was always an interesting game (if the Catharina was to be believed) but Regulus had never cared much for Quidditch as a spectator. Now, if he was the one playing it would be a different matter altogether. Then he'd gladly spend his Saturdays outside amongst the cheering crowd. Perhaps next year he would be on the team, but this year he wasn't.

And therefore, he wasn't on the pitch, but in the empty Slytherin Common Room. Not a single other student stayed behind and Regulus was quite happy about this, for it meant he could finally dump his bag and sort out his thoughts by a warm fire as opposed to the cold water outside.

And he did have a lot of thoughts to sort out. He had to figure out what he'd done wrong to scare off Sirius—OK, he shouldn't have mentioned Muggle Studies, that was on him. But Sirius was the one who said he hadn't done anything wrong; he was only checking! It wasn't bad enough to warrant this kind of treatment anyway. It wasn't as if he had set the Ministry on him, or anything, and he certainly hadn't done anything to that Potter. Why did Sirius even expect him to apologise for not duelling? Had it hurt Potter's ego, or what?! Ha! If that was the reason, he'd never apologise. At most what they could've got was some detention, and that was half a year ago. There was no reason to still be mad about it now. Sirius was just being a whiny baby, that was it. He was just making a fuss about nothing.

If Narcissa was here, she'd know what to do. She'd help him. She'd have an answer for Sirius' behaviour. She'd have an answer for everyone's behaviour and she'd know just what to say. She'd know what upset the older Slytherins, what made them so jumpy. She'd know how he could stay focused with everything going on. She'd know why Mother and Father were silent, even towards Sirius, and she'd know about everything else there was to know. But she wasn't there. She wasn't even at home, she was at the Malfoy manor with that Lucius.

He was all alone. Of course, he wasn't really, as the Peasegoods soon came back from the game and Catharina tried to cheer him up by telling him all about how Slytherin beat Gryffindor. Because of course they had won and of course she had gone out to see it and of course he should've gone as well, since – according to her – the game had been just spectacular.

He didn't pay much attention to her chatter. He mindlessly followed her and her brother (who was in an equally sour mood) through the corridors and up to the Great Hall when it was time for supper, and silently sat near them all through the evening until it was time to go to bed, and even then he didn't sleep. His mind was preoccupied, thinking about the day and how he messed things up again. It kept him up until around three in the morning—that's when his body finally shut it down and he caught the much-needed rest.

In his dreams there was no Hogwarts, there were no overheard conversations to worry him and there were no fights between him and his brother. In his dreams they were happy, they played together and had long talks in the evenings. They trusted one another; they had a bond that couldn't be broken.

His dream ended abrupty after not even four hours. He was awoken by Avery, who insisted on taking him to the lake. He absolutely wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, so there was no other option but to follow him to the spot he'd sat with Sirius the day before. He was still groggy and half-asleep, so at first he thought he was dreaming when Avery said: "You know that the Giant Squid is actually a girl?"

"What?"

Avery hummed. "You can tell by the eyes."

"The... the eyes?"

"If there's eyeshadow, it's a girl."

Regulus was already starting to regret coming here. "I thought you were serious!"

"I am," he said. "She loves make-up."

"Oh, you're impossible! You woke me up for that?!"

"She often does her eyeshadow around this time—look, there she is!"

But Regulus wasn't watching. "We could've seen this back in the Common Room if it's so important to you. Which is where I'm going. Have fun with the Squid."

He made his way back to the castle in large strides. Stupid Squids with stupid make-up habits, ha! It was the last thing he wanted to spend his morning on! (He suppressed the part of him that truly was curious about it. He just couldn't go back; Avery would never stop teasing him if he did.)

He was just by the greenhouses when he saw someone running across the grounds in the twilight. The person looked over his shoulder towards Regulus and for a split second he was sure something would happen, but the student ran on, towards the Whomping—no, towards the Forbidden Forest.

Regulus stopped dead in his tracks and followed the figure with his eyes. It still running towards the Forest and something about the way he ran was so familiar it almost had to be his brother.

And that face...

"Sirius?"

"I'm Hektor," said Avery, who had apparently caught up with him in silence. "I'm not your brother. Do try to keep up."

"Not you, him," he stressed, pointing at the would-be Sirius right as he disappeared into the Forest.

"Your brother, going into the Forbidden Forest?"

"Wouldn't put it past him."

"What do you think he's doing there?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"He's your brother."

"That doesn't make us telepathic or anything," Regulus countered.

Avery put an arm around his shoulders. "Time to find out for ourselves, then!"

He shook off the arm. "It's the Forbidden Forest. We're not allowed to go in there."

Avery laughed. "Neither is your brother."

Avery walked off, but Regulus hesitated for half a second. After all, the Forest was forbidden, and most likely for good reason—there could be all sorts of creatures in there! Dangerous ones. Perhaps even deadly ones. Death was not on his to-do list for today. Death was not on his to-do list for any day.

But he couldn't deny he was curious to know where Sirius was going, why Sirius was in the Forbidden Forest, what he was doing in there. At least the sun was only rising higher and higher and soon the world would be fully lit, which made it slightly less scary. It also wouldn't be the full moon for about another week (Astronomy was good for so many things, and he didn't understand why the subject didn't get more love), so even if there were werewolves in the Forest, they'd be in human form and therefore far less harmful.

He ran after Avery.

The leaves crunched below his heavy footsteps as he crossed the border and entered the Forest. Avery was only a few steps ahead of him and seemed to be mostly thrilled by the experience, whilst Regulus only wondered about what Sirius could possibly be doing in this dark and scary place. Sure, he was always one for reckless behaviour, but this was unnecessarily dangerous even for him.

A chill ran down his spine as he heard something snap beneath his feet—it was only a twig, but the sound of it loud enough to alert potential dangerous beasts of their presence, for the forest was silent otherwise. He held his breath and looked at Avery, who was unphased by what had happened and walked on. Regulus swallowed his nerves and slowly tread after him, his heart beating loudly in his chest.

"We should go back," he whispered. "Get a teacher, or-"

"Don't tell me you're scared," Avery said. He didn't even have the decency to lower his voice.

"I'm not scared," he hissed. "I just-"

Avery lifted his hand, silencing him. "You hear that?"

Regulus shook his head. His heart threatened to break his chest and he was sure whatever creatures lurked in the shadows were able to hear it. They'd fall prey and his heart was to blame. He didn't even want to hear what Avery had heard, but it happened again and this time he heard it as well: a rustle in the leaves to their left, the sound of a twig snapping, and a few ragged breaths.

Then silence.

Avery reached for his wand. Regulus fumbled his own robes for it as well, and he'd never been more relieved to feel the wood brush against his fingertips. He gripped it tightly as he followed Avery towards the source of the noise.

They made their way through the off-path forest and found a clearing behind the trees. In the midst of it was Sirius. He was kneeling beside something on the ground, his hands moving deftly as he examined whatever lay there. His back was turned towards them and he focused on his business with such intensity that he didn't even notice they were there.

They moved closer, close enough for Regulus to see what it was Sirius worked on. It was some kind of potion, judging by the vials that lay to his side, but he couldn't determine the contents—Potions wasn't his best subject, and that was hardly his fault considering it was taught by the incompetent trainee Cres and the self-absorbed Slughorn.

He took another step in the direction of his brother but in doing so, he snapped another twig, causing Sirius to finally look up. He met Regulus' eyes with an unreadable expression but didn't comment. His attention shifted back to the vials and the stuff he collected in them. Little droplets of one thing or another. It could be water. It was transparent. Seemingly just lying around on the grass beneath the leaves.

Regulus exchanged a bewildered look with Avery, who shrugged.

"Sirius?" he tried.

Sirius didn't look up. He had his wand out now and tore more droplets into the vial with a swift motion—wordlessly.

"Sirius, what are you doing?"

"Hmm, strange," Sirius muttered, contempt dripping from his voice. "I could've sworn I heard something just then..."

Regulus let out an exasperated sigh. "Talk to me!"

"... no, it's clearly nothing ... silly me, I can't talk to nothing..."

Regulus walked around him, so he stood in front of his brother. Sirius was still looking down at the grass. "Hello?"

"Hmm... maybe a gust of wind … nothing of importance..."

Anger washed over him and he gripped his brother by the shoulder. "Stop doing that!"

Sirius let out a low growl. "Let go of me."

"I thought I was 'nothing'!"

Sirius slapped his hand away. He was on his feet in an instant and before he knew it, Regulus was pressed up against a tree. "I said, leave me alone! What part of that is so difficult for you to understand? Must you ruin everything?!"

"I'm not-" he started, but Sirius released him, glanced back at his vials, then left without them.

It took Regulus a few seconds to realise why, but the vials were shattered and the contents cleared. Either he or Sirius must've trampled them in their short struggle.

Avery sniggered. "What's with him, right?"

"Shut up," he mumbled, and he waved his wand at the vials. "Reparo."

Nothing happened. "Come on, work... reparo!"

The pieces trembled, but it didn't mend itself. He looked helplessly to Avery, who smirked.

"Reparo," said Avery. The shards reacted to his spell – of course, was there anything Avery couldn't do?! – and melted together again.

Regulus picked them up and ran after his brother, who had disappeared down the same way they'd arrived. "Sirius!" he called out. "Sirius, please!"

But when he left the Forest and arrived back on the Hogwarts grounds, Sirius was already out of sight.

-

Monday came, Monday passed into Tuesday, Tuesday made way for Wednesday... and still he hadn't seen his brother.

Truth be told, he caught glimpses of him; Sirius was at breakfast, lunch and supper every day, and he could be found in the halls moving from one class to another... but Regulus never actually spoke to him. He didn't dare. He'd left the repaired vials at the entrance to the Forest and hoped that Sirius would find them, realise what happened, and approach him—but the weekend arrived (and with it, their argument was officially one week old) and still, no Sirius.

It was the weekend of the full moon and Regulus wondered if Sirius was out in the Forest again, or if he had the good sense to stay away. He didn't check. After all, Sirius had been quite clear in that he didn't want to talk, and Regulus didn't want to make matters even worse.

The weekend bled into Monday again. Tuesday arrived once more. Wednesday, Thursday, the days had never flown by as quickly as they did now. Before he knew it, it was the weekend, and then a new week began.

It was on Wednesday of that new week that he next heard Sirius. He was on his way to Defence Against the Dark Arts when it happened. The strap of his schoolbag snapped and it fell to the floor, the fabric quickly darkening as the ink seeped from its well. Regulus dropped to his knees, desperately trying to save all he could, when he heard his voice. "That's my brother, you idiot! Scourgify!"

The ink cleared from his bag. He tried his best to drown out the arguing between Sirius and his friends ("He looks like Snivellus from behind!", "He does NOT‐", "He kinda does, mate", "that means I look like Snivellus from behind!") and repaired the bag's strap. He swung it over his shoulder and hurried along the now-deserted corridor.

He was late. He could hear the class practicing a spell (though it was hard to make out which) and he could see them showing the teacher the wand movement when he peeked inside.

He had to knock on the door and push it open. The Mudblood professor was mid-speech when he entered.

"...—perhaps Mr Black would care to demonstrate, since he thinks himself too good for class."

His breath caught in his throat. Demonstrate?

"What are you waiting for, Mr Black? The class is most excited to see you set the example."

He took a few steps into the classroom and let the door shut behind him. His eyes flickered across the room, and sure enough the students sat there smirking at him with expectant stares.

They knew he'd fail. He had no idea what kind of demonstration he was to do.

His eyes found the Peasegoods, who gave him looks of sympathy, and the sniggering Avery sat on the other side of the room.

"Well?" the teacher pressed.

"I... I don't..."

"You don't know what's going on. That's what you get for being late. Make sure it's the last time."

"Yes, Professor."

"Find a seat, I'd like to get on with the lesson."

He hurried over to the first available seat, next to some girl he only vaguely remembered. She wasn't a Slytherin, so he had no need to try and remember her.

She likely wasn't even pureblood.

That realisation had him shudder. He sat a bit farther away from her and pulled out his books, trying his best to forget that the professor whose lesson he was trying to follow was far from pureblood herself...

Obviously, it failed. He kept zoning out, going over how many of the students in the classroom were likely to be halfblood or worse (and the numbers were truly far higher than he fooled himself to believe), and telling him just how great the odds were that a Mudblood had sat at that very desk he was setting at, resting its hands against the very same wood—how filthy it made him feel. He rubbed his hands against his robes in a desperate attempt to rid himself of the feeling but it lingered. It spread. His robes were touching his seat. A Mudblood must've sat there at some point. And his robes clung to his skin. That meant that Mudblood clung to him, albeit indirectly. It was enough to make anyone sick.

When the lesson came to an end, he still had no idea what the lecture had been about. He pushed past the other students as quickly as he could when the bell rang, taking in large breaths of air when he exited the classroom. The air was just as infected, however, and he quickly realised that there was nowhere safe for him in this wretched school.

Last year, he'd have written to his parents and requested homeschooling. But he wasn't on good standing with them. They hadn't written to him at all, they hadn't even replied when he wrote to them to ask if he could indeed spend Christmas at Narcissa's; he had to find out through a followup letter of hers that his parents were fine with it. And of course they were. It meant they had to see less of him.

He'd really ruined things this summer.

Something poked him in between his shoulder blades. He could tell from the laugh that followed that it was Avery, but he turned around to confirm it and sure enough, there he was. A look of glee upon his face.

He sighed. "What?"

"You better move along," Avery said. "You don't want to be late again."

Avery was right. Not that he'd give him that satisfaction, however. "I'm still perfectly on time."

"It's a long walk from here all the way over to there..."

"It's Binns," he retaliated. "Like he'd notice if I'm a second late."

Avery tutted him. "Don't underestimate the ghost."

"Binns really won't care. Or notice. Absent or asleep, what difference does it make? He must know by now that nobody pays attention to his lessons."

"Suit yourself," said Avery, and he brushed past him. In his passing, he dropped a note to the floor. Regulus picked it up.

9 PM. Owlery.

That was all it said. He looked at Avery, but Avery had already left.

Eight-thirty came around and Regulus was still unsure of if he should go. It could be a trap. Avery could've set Filch up to catch him and have him in detention again—and he was determined not to serve any detention this year, especially not of the cleaning kind. He was a Black, he was a wizard with blood as pure as any and the school thought they could have him scrub things by hand—as if he were a Muggle!

On the other hand, if it wasn't a trap...

It's no big deal, he told himself. After all, he'd sneaked out after curfew before. He'd even left the school without permission, and only a few weeks ago they'd roamed around in the Forbidden Forest. Going to the Owlery was nothing. He could even try and come up with a sob story if he was caught, if it was a trap—he'd got homesick and desperately needed to write to his mother, or father, or whomever would come to mind. Perhaps he should prepare a letter to show, in case it was necessary...

He decided against it for the simple reason that he hadn't enough time. It was his own fault, for putting it off until the last moment to really think it through. He had dismissed Avery's note as nonsense at first, and only entertained it at supper when Avery had told him to bring his cloak. Even then, he hadn't taken it all too seriously.

He'd just have to make his sob story all the more believable on the spot, if he was caught.

The Common Room was still filled with students, but none of them (not even the prefects) seemed to care about him leaving. They were far too busy whispering amongst themselves.

The dungeons were deserted and he managed to get to the Entrance Hall unseen. From there on it was easy, really, and he reached the Owlery with seven minutes to spare. It was dark and cold and immediately he wished he had actually followed Avery's suggestion of taking his cloak.

Aside from the owls, he was the only one there. He paced the Owlery, ignoring the hoots as he disturbed the birds. They'd get over it. He had to stay warm, and without cloak that meant staying active.

His watch told him it was four-and-a-half minutes to nine. He was almost convinced it was meant to be a trap. The only thing missing was Filch, or whatever teacher Avery had arranged in his stead.

Two minutes to nine and still no sign of Avery. Regulus was shaking now, the wind chilling him to the bone. It made sense for the Owlery to not have any windows, for the owls' convenience, but at the very least they could've heated the place! Scotland wasn't known for its hot weather, after all.

One minute to nine. He told himself he'd leave if Avery wouldn't arrive soon. There was no use in staying and possibly walking into a trap. He was starting to regret coming at all.

He watched as the seconds on his watch passed slowly. There were only sixty seconds to a minute. He waited until all sixty long seconds passed—then, finally, the clock struck nine.