Chapter 4
Padfoot
I stare at the note, the handwriting so familiar; hours of silence, practicing the loops and lines and the rap of the wand when we got it wrong. “No heirs of mine will have the handwriting of a commoner!” My fathers voice echoes in my head. At least he used gender neutral words to describe us. Mother always called us her son and daughter. She still gave Regulus dresses and bows and ornamental hairbrushes till she died. Father gave him proper black boots and a handsome vest and tie pin. He never expressed happiness over Regulus’s transition, but he did give him his name.
Regulus and I were hiding in my room, trying to find a new name, and Father had barged in, demanding we get ready for the dinner party, when he saw the books and lists. Regulus was trembling, and I was ready to fight. But all he said was, “Our family has a history of constellations naming our children. Regulus is one of the brightest stars in the sky, and it’s claimed whoever has that name has the heart of a king. Much better than all this rubbish.” He kicked a book across the floor and left.
Why did Regulus drop Peter here? When he knew what Peter had done. Maybe he was trying to anger me, or maybe he wanted Peter to kill all of us. Or maybe he wanted me to kill Peter.
Or maybe he was trying to save Peter from having to kill James in front of Voldemort.
But that can’t be it. Regulus doesn’t have the heart of a king anymore. All he has is a Black heart and soul.
A quick little two tap on the door makes me stuff the note in my pocket as Mary walks in. Her eyes take in my bedroom, still decorated with the taste of my youth-which honestly hasn’t changed much-and snorts. “Classy,” she remarks on the muggle girls. I should take those ones down, I never actually had any interest in them, only in the look on my parents faces when they saw it.
But Mary sits on my bed next to me and leans her head on my shoulder. It reminds me so much of our odd little fling of a relationship in the first few months of fifth year. I was terrified that the whispers and slurs my family called me were true, terrified that my feelings would become another thing that made me so different from them. So I ran straight to the prettiest girl in our year and hooked up with her. It only happened twice, and neither time was that great.
Mary and I quickly parted ways when we realized we actually didn’t give a damn about the other. We remained close friends ever since. She was the first person I cried too when Remus and I broke up. James was second, and granted James saw the worst version of me. But Mary had seen the raw almost immediate aftereffects of that horrible experience. Remus might’ve gotten over it but I bloody well haven’t.
“How you doing sweetheart?”
Mary’s the oldest of four, and her mums a muggle and her dads been dead for years. She’s always been the wild, let's go have fun friend, and simultaneously the comforting stay in with a cup of tea friend. She’s kind and witty and incredibly brave.
“I’m alright. I should go see that rat.”
She grips my hand. “Marlene's still in there. If he wasn’t completely defenseless I would’ve gone in there already. But Marlene's tough, she’s got grit I never did. She’ll know how to hit where it hurts.” I nod, swallowing down my fear and anger and slight relief. I’m not ready to face my best friend. I’m not ready to face him after what he did to my brother. To James.
I head downstairs to the living room, where Kreacher is prowling, hands on some silver artifact that was my great great grandfathers. “Kreacher!” He nearly drops the thing and scrapes into a hasty bow. “Master Black, Kreacher was just cleaning.” I roll my eyes. “You’re a liar, a terrible one. Kreacher, have you had any contact with my brother?” The question shocks him. His wide eyes turn watery, like they do at any mention of Regulus.
“Of course not, Master Black. I have not had any talking to Master Regulus, not since he left to go serve the Dark Lord.” But Kreacher could talk his way out of anything with any loophole. It was a trait he knew well. “Have you gotten any messages, any letters or owls or patrounus’s from my brother?” The house elf shook his head, and nearly cried, “Master Regulus only sends Kreacher a letter once a month, to make sure he is alright. I know nothing of his business with the blonde traitor!”
I relent, and go to the kitchen, mind racing with thoughts of my brother.
I freeze in the doorway.
Remus sits there, at the table, bowl of soup in hand, drinking the remains like a child. His floppy brown hair falls in his face, his amber eyes framed by thick lashes, his long slender fingers cupping the bowl.
It’s the first time I've properly been alone with him in a long time, when I'm not distracted by the mad panic Jame’s kidnapping put me in. When all those fucking feelings can come rushing back at me. You don’t have someone be your best friend, and then boyfriend for eleven years and have those feelings disappear in less then five. But Remus is such a good masker-you’d never know what he was thinking if he didn’t voice it-so I feel like I’m just a depressing mess. He could have a boyfriend out there in the muggle world for all I know.
That thought makes me angry, and I slam my own bowl of soup down far too hard. Remus glances at me, brows furrowed. “Sirius, you alright?” I nod, spooning soup into my mouth so I don’t have to talk. I wish more than ever that James was here, for my own selfish reasons. So that he would be the buffer between me and Remus.
“Have you talked to Pettigrew yet?”
Another shake of my head.
“I saw Lily.”
That makes me look at him.
“She’s terrible, Pads,” he says softly. His hands clench around his abandoned spoon. Remus and Lily are like me and Mary, or like James and Marlene. Funny how we all banded together like an odd little family. Pairs of siblings. Well, Mary and I are the least sibling-like, considering we’ve banged, which honestly goes pretty well for my own family track record.
“She hasn’t gotten out of that bed,” I mutter. “We’ve tried everything. I don’t know how to help.” “Well considering her boyfriend has been kidnapped by the Dark Lord I don’t blame her.” He’s got an edge to his voice now. It makes me squirm. I never liked how Remus thought I wasn’t selfless enough. He wanted me to be more thoughtful. He was always right about that.
“I was thinking,” I say, to get him to stop looking at me like I’m utter dog shit, “About ways to get James back. We can’t just storm their headquarters. We don’t even know where it is.”
“Peter might know something about that.”
I sigh. “I doubt he’ll tell us the truth.”
Remus’s mouth tightens. Oh god, I’d kill to be able to kiss him again.
“There are ways to get the truth out of him. Lily’s a spectacular potions maker. We’ll get the answers out of him if we need.”
“I want to see if I can contact my brother.” His amber eyes draw the truth out from me before I even realize I’ve said anything. His face relaxes into shock.
“Regulus? Sirius, I don’t think that will go anywhere.”
Stubbornness flares up in me.
“Fine then, I’ll reach out to Narcissa. She’ll reply to me. I know she will. Blood is thicker than water. Family comes first. That is what we were raised on. I’m still a Black, I’m the fucking Black Heir, they have to talk to me!”
Suddenly I’m shouting, and standing, my bowl nearly knocked over. Remus is looking up at me, surprise on his stupid handsome face.
“They have to talk to me,” I repeat, and snatch my bowl and drop it into the sink.
“If they don’t, we’ll find another way.”
He's beside me, scarred hands dropping his bowl in the sink too. His presence is reassuring, but it also sets every nerve on fire, I’m so aware of his body so close to mine. “Sirius, I promise we’ll get him back.” I look at him, and his face is so sincere. Remus is so good at hiding his own feelings I completely forgot for a second how deeply he must be hurting as well. James was his first friend. His first true friend. He was friends with Peter and I, but James won him over, that second night. James was the light in the darkness that was the first few days of Hogwarts for Remus.
Before I can think clearly, I hug him. He smells like tea and chocolate. His bony arms wind their way around me, holding tight. His cheek brushes the side of my head, and we fit. It’s like when we were younger all over again.
Then a set of feet pounding down the creaky stairs and Marlene bursts into the room.
“Sirius!”
Her eyes are wide, tear streaks are visible on her face, and her hair is up in a messy bun. “He told me…” she gasps, “He told me….” I move towards her. “Marls, sit down, please, are you-”
“Peter meant to save James and Lily! He was going to get them to us. He never planned to kill them! He had help that night!”
Remus pulls out a chair for her. “Who helped Peter?”
Marlene sits down, hands shaking. She pulls out her lighter and grabs a cigarette from the pack on the table. Once, twice, the lighter clicks, until the third time her face is illuminated by flame. Once lit, she inhales. Her eyes close, and when they open, sadness fills them.
“Your brother, Sirius.”