The Black Snake

Sirius groans, “Why does my brother have to be his best friend?”

“He probably won’t even be home, Pads. Don’t worry about it.”

James and Sirius exit the stairwell—because the elevator is out of service—and turn to the right. Remus’s apartment—and Regulus’s—is the last one on the left side of the hall, sixth floor. They got a good deal on it. Cheap, for a place this nice anyway, and in a good area. 

James would get an apartment here himself if it wasn’t for him. He’d probably throw a knife at James if he tried. Which.. he has already—once or twice—but to be fair, James was being a bit of an asshole. The first time at least. And he did miss so no harm done.

“Besides, you know how he is.” He adds, scrolling through his phone as they walk with a frown. His social media has been flooded with posts about missing pets, and people, as well as bizarre sightings in the city. It was probably nothing, just people being paranoid. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to it.

“Yeah.. Okay, whatever. Probably out anyway.”

“Exactly,” James gives him a supportive smile, sliding his phone back in his pocket. He knocks on their door three times, each louder than the last. He shuffles his feet a bit as they wait for Remus. But when no one answers, he knocks again. Sirius bangs his fist on the sleek wood as well, impatient to see Moony.

As James raises his hand a third time, the door finally yanks open. Regulus’s hand, full of black and silver rings, leans against the side of it. A scowl that would make Walburga Black proud immediately crosses his features—his bored expression long gone—when he sees them and promptly slams the door in their faces. 

So.. he’s definitely not out… It’ll be okay. Probably.

“Little fucking shit,” Sirius growls.

A muffled yell from the other side reaches James’ ears, “Remus! Your idiots are here!”

“Well, that’s just rude,” James mutters. Sirius is right.

Shuffling and low, incoherent voices are all James and Sirius can hear before one door opens as another slams shut so hard James wonders how it didn’t fall off its hinges. Now Remus is at the door in all his freshly showered glory, as proven by the wet hair and towel in his hands. Thankfully, his pants are on—James doesn’t want to deal with Sirius’s antics already—but his shirt seems to have failed him.

“Uh.. Sorry. About, y’know..”

“S’alright, Moony.”

Remus steps aside—at least one of them has manners—tilting his head to the side, “Come on in. He won’t bite.”

“You sure about that,” James laughs awkwardly.

Remus laughs, a real one unlike James, “I’ll stop him if he tries.”

The familiar sound of a knife embedding into wood wings through the air. James gulps. The sound came again, a little louder this time. 

“I bet the landlord loves that,” Sirius rolls his eyes.  Another thunk quickly follows.

Remus just shrugs, unfazed, “We can fix it. Come on, stay a while will you?”

“Anything for our Moony.” And another thunk.

James follows the pair inside. The flat is small but cozy, filled with the warm glow of lamps and the low murmur of conversation. It’s not his first time here but they must’ve redecorated.  In place of the white ‘L’ shaped couch they had before, is a large, black ‘U’ shaped one sitting on a green, fur rug. The glass coffee table is the same but notably has pizza boxes and plates on it. 

There’s a new bookcase on the wall behind it, next to the hallway that leads to their rooms and bathroom, it looks like Remus was painting on the black surface. An unfinished picture of a howling wolf and moon sits on the side James can see. And a hutch now sits against the wall across from them, next to the partition leading to their kitchen. White. Also painted. But the hutch has a sunset overlooking the ocean instead of a wolf.

“There’s still some left if you’re hungry,” his hand gestures to the table.

“Don’t mind if I do. I’m bloody starved,” James says as the boys sit. Another thunk sounds and Remus turns the flat-screen on, letting it play in the background. 

“I, well we, got you a present, Moony,” Sirius says.

“My birthday was two weeks ago.”

Yeah, don’t worry. That’s kind of hard to forget. 

“I know. But I saw it and thought of you two,” James smiles, remembering how Sirius had to have a matching set with Remus after he pointed it out. 

“Close your eyes,” Moony complies as Sirius pulls his fist out of his pocket. Gift hidden in his fist. A simple bracelet with two gray cords holding a silver crescent moon and a little star. Gently clipping it on, he grins and says, “I have one too. See?”

Sirius has his right hand raised next to Remus’s when he opens his eyes. He smiles down at them, “Thank you.”

The taller boy leans down to place a gentle, loving kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. James smiles fondly at his friends. They’ve been together for almost a year now.

“Where’s my thank you,” James asks, voice full of mock hurt.

“That’s the pizza you’re eating. The meat lovers was for me.”

The mushroom and onion one must have been for Regulus then. 

“I’ll take it,” he says around a mouthful—it is his favorite pizza after all, “but the favoritism is unfair.”

“It’s completely fair,” Sirius chimes.

They stay like that for a while. Remus had got up to get them drinks—a new one called Firewhiskey—and put a jumper on at some point. Tastes awful. James loves it. They talked about anything and everything. What’s new. How they’ve been. What trouble they’ve gotten into recently. 

Which James definitely hasn’t gotten into trouble. He’s a good role model for his seven month old son (he did such a good job crawling earlier). Who they also talked about, as well as Lily. Who James didn’t really want to talk about. He’s grown tired of the back and forth with her. 

They don’t work. They never do. The on again, off again is unhealthy—for them and Harry. Exhausting. The only reason they try anymore is Harry. Their spark is gone, their dry break up last month only proves this, has been for a while. James doubts it’ll come back this time. 

They also played a couple games. Truth, dare, or drink. Poker. James won. Cards against humanity—Regulus’s apparently—was a fun one. Sirius won that one, James thinks he cheated. Remus is an unfair advantage to have. 

And Sirius almost got a coin stuck in his nose. Don’t ask him how, James wasn’t paying attention. Remus’s reaction was hilarious though. Shocked, horrified, worried, and disgusted all at the same time. The poor guy was positively flabbergasted.

They even talked a bit about lacrosse. Much to Remus’s chagrin. James and Sirius play for their college, Hogwarts University. They had dreamed about going pro together as kids. They still play, but the dream changed. 

James had found himself wanting to be a surgeon after his father’s death. He had gotten into a car crash and his doctors skipped the CT scan that would’ve shown he had a head lac, rushing into surgery because of how severe his other injuries were. But when they had Harry he wasn’t willing to sacrifice even more of his time with his son. So, he’s chosen the path of family medicine instead.

Sirius wants to help kids in the system, like he was. In any way he can. For now he’s just a student with a bartending job on the side. Personally, James thinks the bartending gig suits him more but he loves the path he chose. That he’s breaking the cycle. Has broken it. Is going to help others break it. He’s proud of him.

Remus is an artist. He’s also a writer. Which is weird because the guy is fit. Like you’d think he was the sporty one kind of fit. Even though he hates sports. Sirius practically dragged him to their last game. There’s something seriously wrong with him for that. 

Even Regulus like sports. He’s also a lacrosse player, an annoyingly good one too, which James knows because his team has kicked James’ team’s ass a couple of times now. The Gryffindors and Slytherins have a long standing rivalry. James has no idea how it started, it’s been going on that long.

“Remember when.. Remus got into a fight with that.. old lady,” Sirius says suddenly between laughs.

“She was being rude, yelling and carrying on like that,” he scoffs.

“She was just telling you to get up because she thought her daughter’s phone slipped under your seat,” James joins with a laugh.

“No need to yell.”

“She had hearing aids,” Sirius cries.

“No need to be rude about it.”

“Remus,” he barks.

“No, that old hag hit me with her cane! I could’ve pressed charges you know!”

Sirius keels over laughing, clutching his sides.

“Yeah, that one was uncalled for,” James smiles.

Remus crosses his arms, leaning against the back of the couch with a huff.

“It’s okay, Moony. That mean old woman can’t get you anymore,” Sirius coos.

James snickers. Remus glares at them both. Sirius might just die on the floor by the end of tonight. 

“That was the first time Remus showed us his true colors,” James laughs. The guy is normally pretty sweet but can be as bad as them when he wants to be.

Remus’s eyes narrow, locking in on Sirius. He smirks, “That’s enough out of you.”

He attacks his boyfriend’s laughing form. Fingers tickling his sides ferociously. Sirius’s uncontrollable laughter fills the apartment as he kicks and squirms in his arms, “Stop! Stop.”

He barks another laugh.

“Mm, I don’t think so,” he grins.

“I won’t bring it up again!”

Remus doesn’t stop but he does slow down, “Promise?”

“I,” he giggles, “I promise! Never again. Promise.”

Remus lifts his hands, “Good—”

“She was totally in the right, though.”

“You little,” Remus trails off as he resumes tickling him to death.

They’re a good match. James is glad Sirius met him, helped him accept this part of him. He escaped that house years ago but Walburga had still affected him. James didn’t even know Sirius was attracted to men until he introduced him to Remus. Regulus must’ve escaped at some point as well since he lives here, with him. Their parents would never approve after all. So, maybe he isn’t as like them as Sirius thinks.

He’s still a twat though.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, nearly falling right back down as the alcohol catches up with him.

Remus nods but doesn’t look up from tickling Sirius.

The walk to the bathroom is short. But slightly more difficult than James expected it to be. He isn’t drunk. None of them are. They did have a good amount to drink though. 

The door opens just as he reaches for the knob. James flinches back with a jerk. Regulus is stood there glaring at him. Again. His curls are wet and sticking to his face, water dripping down to his chest. James hardly even notices how he’s lean but muscular. Thin, but defined. Steam filters out from behind him, his cheeks flushed from the heat. He’s wearing nothing but a towel tied loosely on his hips, showing off his many scars. 

The varying sizes of pink and white marks crisscrossing the skin of his chest that likely continues on his back hits James like a punch to the gut. He freezes, breath catching in his throat as the jagged lines seem to scream at him, revealing a story of suffering he’d never imagined. One still untold. Possibly one still being written. He hadn’t even noticed them before. 

His mind races, trying to reconcile this image with the Regulus he’d known—or rather, the Regulus he thought he’d known. Cold, aloof, always with that air of superiority. But now… now he saw something else entirely. Something raw and broken.

How had he missed this? The pain etched into Regulus’s skin; it was old, deep, like the roots of a tree twisted by years of storms. James’s mind flicked to Sirius, to the stories his best friend had shared in rare, vulnerable moments—stories of their parents’ cruelty, their obsession with perfection, their punishments. But Sirius had always made it sound like he’d bore the brunt of it, that Regulus had been the favoured one, the golden child.

Had he been wrong?

The thought gnawed at him, bitter and unsettling. James had always hated Regulus, seeing him as a reflection of everything Sirius had escaped from. But those scars… They told a different story. Maybe Regulus wasn’t just the cold, arrogant kid who’d bought into their parents’ twisted beliefs. Maybe he was a survivor, too. Maybe he’d been just as trapped, just as desperate to escape.

James clenched his fists, anger rising in his chest, not at Regulus, but at the thought of what their parents must have done to him. It was like seeing Sirius all over again, only this time, it was Regulus who bore the marks of their parents’ cruelty.

Regulus’s eyes narrow at him, the familiar defensive posture snapping James of his thoughts. The walls Regulus had built up were still very much there, and whatever James had just seen—the vulnerability, the pain—was buried deep again, hidden behind that scowl.

“What the fuck are you staring at, Potter?” Regulus’s voice is sharp, cutting through the fog of James’ thoughts.

He opens his mouth, a thousand words on the tip of his tongue, but none of them feel right. He settles for the simplest one. 

“Nothing.”

Regulus scoffs, brushing past him. “Good. Stay out of my way.”

But as Regulus walks away, James can’t help but feel like something significant has just happened. Like he’s seen a side of Regulus no one else has, or at least, no one outside Remus. And it shakes something loose inside him. Something he’s just not ready to confront yet.

Maybe he’s just delusional.

But what if he isn't?

He stumbles into the bathroom, shutting the door behind. The cool water from the tap feels good against his face, grounding him, pulling him back to the present. But as he looks at his reflection in the mirror, he can’t shake the image of those scars, or the questions they raise.

How many times had he written Regulus off as just another Black, another enemy, when all along he’d been blind to the truth? He’d assumed, he’d judged, and now he realised how little he truly understood.

He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He’d spent so long hating Regulus, never bothering to look deeper, to see the pain that was now laid bare before him. What else had he missed? What else had he been too proud, too sure of himself, to see?

 He couldn’t unsee those scars, couldn’t pretend that Regulus was just another enemy. He was something more, something complicated, and it terrified James to think of what that might mean.

But more than anything, it made him wonder—if Regulus had suffered like this, what else had he been wrong about? And what would Sirius say if he knew?

James hopes he did escape, no one should have to go through what happens in that house. He also hopes that he isn’t just jumping to the wrong conclusions again, that Regulus doesn’t believe in what they pushed onto both him and his brother.

He had just scowled and brushed past him, roughly bumping their shoulders together, and it’s got a choke hold on James. He swallows. It’s unfair. 

Someone committed a crime when they designed him. Those good looks are truly wasted on such a shit personality. Honestly, how is he friends with Remus? Well.. he can’t be that bad, James supposes, if the two of them can be friends. And those scars.. Although, James knows Remus isn’t much better when he’s provoked.

Right, well, at least he didn’t throw a knife at him, he thinks as Regulus’s door slams shut again. 

When he returns to the living room, Sirius and Remus are still in their playful tussel, laughing and teasing each other like nothing’s changed. Technically, nothing has. But for James, something has.

He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at something he doesn’t quite understand. And it’s not just Regulus. It’s about everything. The way they’ve all grown. The things they’ve been through. The secrets they keep from each other.

It’s about Sirius. Maybe Sirius can have his brother back. James knows he misses him, that the hatred is no more than a facade. A shield. James wonders if Regulus is the same way. Maybe he can help them get past their history. Maybe he can help Regulus. For Sirius. But there’s nothing he can do about it in this moment.

He grabs another slice of pizza, mushroom and onion this time, hoping to drown out the thoughts with food and alcohol. But the uneasy feeling lingers, like a shadow at the edge of his vision.

“So, Moony,” he says, forcing a grin as he settles back on the couch. “When’s the next game night? I’m pretty sure I’m due for a rematch.”

Remus laughs, pulling away from Sirius slightly. “Whenever you’re ready to lose again, Prongs.”

The tension in James’ body dissolves as easily as it always does when they’re together. But as they continue to joke and banter, James’ thoughts keep drifting back to the beautifully tragic scars on Regulus’s body, and the silent, haunting question of what else he doesn’t know about him.

Remus and Sirius have settled down, the former holding the other man in his arms. The distant sound of commotion in the street reaches his ears now that the laughter has died down. James refuses to turn away from his friends when he hears the door open again, quiet footfalls echoing down the hall. But like a magnet his eyes find him anyway. He’s clad in tight, black ripped jeans, an oversized green romper—Remus’s—black combat boots, and his trademark rings adorning his fingers.

“Hey, you heading out,” Remus asks as Sirius tenses in his arms.

“Yeah, Barty and Evan invited me over. Something about wanting to show of their new.. whatever the hell it is.”

“Need a lift?”

“No. It’s fine,” he replies tensely.

“Okay,” he smiles softly. “Call if you need anything.”

“Mhm,” Regulus doesn’t spare his brother or James a glance as he makes his way to the door, phone and keys jingling in hand. That’s when it happens. The sound of guns being fired reaches them just as he begins to turn the knob. 

Everybody pauses. Everything goes quiet and still. Shock and fear lodges itself into his bones as screams and gunfire tear through the silence.

“None of you go anywhere,” Remus orders as he gets up, moving towards the kitchen. 

Suddenly, the television in the background flickered, the Lacrosse match cutting out and being replaced by a news bulletin. The jarring sound of the news anchor’s voice broke through their shock, drawing James’ and Sirius’s attention as Regulus turns away.

“This just in—we’re receiving reports of violent attacks across the city. Authorities are urging everyone to stay indoors and lock their doors. The assailants are described as extremely dangerous and—”

~•~

“Remus, do you see anything,” he asks quietly as he follows him into the kitchen. Remus is stood by their window, eyes wide.

Regulus joins him when he doesn’t say anything, “What’s?.. Holy shit.”

His sharp eyes scan the street below, the view is partially blocked by the angle, but the sight that greets them is more than enough to send chills down Regulus’s spine. Down in the middle of the road, a group of police officers were trying to subdue what appeared to be a few disheveled people—but something was off about them. The people aren’t just resisting; they’re lunging at the officers with a terrifying, inhuman aggression. And their faces..they looked wrong, like something out of a nightmare. Pale, sunken eyes, skin pulled tight over bones, mouths ripping into the flesh of screaming victims.

“What the hell..?” Regulus mutters, his voice low with disbelief. “They’re like.. they’re like animals.”

“Look at their eyes,” Remus said, his voice hitching. “There’s no… there’s nothing human left in them.”

As they watched, one of the officers tried to wrestle one of the attackers to the ground, but the man—it might have been a man, once—turned and sunk it’s teeth into the officer’s arm. The scream that followed was bloodcurdling, sending a shiver down their spines.

What the fuck is going on?

“They’re not.. dying.”

“What,” Regulus asks softly, turning to his best friend with his brows furrowed.

“They’ve shot the people in front several times. Only one has gone down.”

“That’s.. not possible.”

But Remus is right. No one has gone down since he’s been watching. Well, now two have. But this still isn’t right..

“There’s something wrong with them. It’s like they’re,” Remus trails off.

“Like they’re dead,” Regulus finishes for him, his voice barely above a whisper. “The news is on.. Maybe they’re talking about this.”

Remus nods, and they walk back to the living room together.

James and Sirius’s eyes are glued to the flat-screen, looking like they’re about to be sick.  The footage on the screen shifts, showing shaky, handheld camera footage of another street, not far from where they were. The scene is complete and utter chaos—screaming people running in every direction, police trying to hold back the same kind of attackers they had just seen outside. But in this footage, the attackers weren’t just a few isolated individuals; there were dozens of them, their numbers growing as more people are attacked. As more people are bitten. It can’t be that, though. Can it?

“According to anonymous sources, the attack originated at Hilltop stadium. The logistics of the attack are still unknown but there are rumors that it is bio-terrorism. Here one theorist says, ‘We’ve seen it in films already. It’s a virus transmitted by bite or scratch, maybe even blood. If you’re alive, you’re already carrying the infection. It’s the f***ing apocalypse.’ Now, I don’t know if I believe that but it does appear to be a virus transmitted by bite. Victims have become strangely violent, behaving erratically. The virus also appears to affect their speech as they only grunt and growl.”

The camera pans out from the woman and zooms in on the civilians. Remus moves closer to the couch and Sirius grabs hold of his hand like it’s the only thing keeping him from drowning. 

Regulus’s eyes linger on their hands for a moment, his heart thrums painfully in his chest but his face remains a mask of neutrality. A reminder of the many things that come so easily to others but not to him. Of the longing buried underneath hatred… 

A mere flicker beneath the layers of contempt. He looks away as the woman speaks again.

“Not only have the victims become violent, but also they have become cannibalistic. Their victims seem to be coming back from the dead and joining them. The police can only do what they can to stop them but this.. it’s happening everywhere? That can’t be. No, I’m going the fuck,” the woman gets cut off by her own screams. One of.. them ripped into her throat. Just.. bit a chunk right out.

His heart sinks and his stomach twists. They aren’t stopping shit. They’ve caught up to the police too by now. And they’re getting fucking slaughtered. This isn’t just two coincidental and random incidents. It’s an outbreak.

“I’m gonna call Barty, make sure they’re okay,” he barely hides the tremble in his voice.

“Merlin,” James swears, expression betraying his shock. “This..”

Remus nods, still watching the flat-screen. They’ve switched to a helicopter view.  Regulus’s stomach clenches as the phone rings. Barty and Evan live near the place they are live at. Surely, they weren’t stupid enough to go out in that? 

They are. They might’ve. Barty probably would. But Evan has some sense. He would’ve stopped Barty. They’ll keep each other safe. They always do.

Regulus tries his number again, biting his lip. Pick up the fucking phone. Still no answer. They’re fine. His phone’s probably dead. So, he tries Evan’s number.

It rings for a couple seconds, Regulus fiddles with the ring on his middle finger absentmindedly. Relief courses through him when an audible click signals that the line has connected.

“Dude! Hol-”

The call drops and the knot in his stomach returns. What the fuck? Evan’s okay. He picked up. Barty is fine, or Evan would’ve sounded distressed. He actually wouldn’t have even answered. Because they’re like the romantic version of Regulus and Remus, if one dies so does the other. And they’ll fight like hell to make sure they both make it out alive.

“Remus,” Regulus turns back just in time to see it. Something hits the helicopter, exploding on impact. The occupants scream, falling to their inevitable deaths. Fates sealed in fire and blood. “Bloody hell..”

The room falls into a tense silence. Regulus is used to danger, to darkness, but this was something else entirely—something more primal, more terrifying.

“Harry,” James mutters, his eyes wide. He jumps up and rushes toward the door. Regulus’s protective instincts flared. The thought of him charging into the frenzy outside, unprepared and reckless, ignited a fierce protectiveness in Regulus. He might have resented James, but the idea of him getting hurt because of his own stubbornness was something Regulus couldn’t bear. He wouldn’t. He tells himself it’s because of Remus.

His eyes dart to the boy at the thought. His face is a mask of concern and frustration. Regulus could see the conflict in his friend’s eyes—the desire to protect, to find a way to survive, and the hopelessness of their situation. Remus’s unease was palpable, a stark contrast to the chaotic determination of James.

“James, no,” Sirius yells as he and Remus surge after him.

“Let me go,” James yells flailing against their hold. James’ desperation to find his son reached a fever pitch. His are wild with a mix of fear and determination, a stark reminder of how much he was willing to risk. His fervor was admirable, but it was also dangerous. Regulus could see the tension in James’ movements, the reckless urgency that could get them all killed if not tempered with caution.

“If you try to leave now, you’ll get yourself hurt! Or worse!”

In a split second, the situation escalated when James, in his frantic urgency, pushes Sirius away, knocking him down. His arm swings wildly, dangerously close to hitting Remus in the face. The sight of James’ carelessness—especially when it was so close to causing his best friend harm—was the breaking point for him. His instincts, honed by years of dealing with danger and chaos, kicked in.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Regulus reached into his boot and withdrew one of his knives he kept hidden there. The blade was a familiar weight in his hand, a symbol of his control and precision. It felt almost comforting to hold it. He aimed carefully, his eyes locked on James’ erratic movements. With a fluid motion, he hurled the knife across the room.

The blade sliced through the air with deadly accuracy, embedding itself into the wall just inches from James’ head. It felt good, throwing the knife,  a release of all the pent up frustration he didn’t know how to voice. But it didn’t last. The sound of the knife hitting the wall was a harsh reminder of the danger they were all facing. It was a warning—a clear message that recklessness would not be tolerated.

“Not happening,” Regulus’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension.

James froze, his eyes wide with shock as he registered the danger so close to him. Regulus’s heart pounded, not just from adrenaline of the moment but from the surge of anger and fear that had driven him to act. He wasn’t just protecting Remus; he was trying to keep them all safe from the dangerous edge of James’ desperation.

“What the fuck,” he yells whirling on Regulus.

“I said, not fucking happening.”

“What do you even care what happens to me,” James yells.

“I don’t,” he points to Remus nonchalantly, “I care about him, though.”

James glares at him for a couple seconds, running his gaze up and down Regulus like he’s trying to find something—he won’t. Regulus could feel his eyes on him, like a weight pressing down on his shoulders and feels a pang of something he immediately pushes down.  He straightens his back, willing himself to appear unbothered, even as the scars on his skin felt more exposed than ever before.

The room fell into a tense silence as Regulus’s words sank in. James’ breath came in raggedly as he looks back at the knife embedded in the wall. The sight of it seemed to snap him back into reality, the gravity of their situation finally registering. 

“I’m leaving.” He doesn’t move. The wildfire in his eyes has calmed significantly.

“That’s stupid but have fun.”

“Nobody is fucking leaving,” Remus, who had watched the entire scene with a mixture of shock and relief, moved in front of the door, effectively blocking it. His face is full of concern, but there is a flicker of gratitude in his eyes as glances at Regulus.

Regulus sighs dramatically, “Damn.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sirius growls, Regulus and James both turning back to him. “Don’t talk to him like that.”

Regulus ignores the sting in his heart, shifting uncomfortably, feeling the old resentment simmer. The jealousy boiling under the surface at the reminder that James is Sirius’s brother now—not him. His best friend and the man he chose as his brother. The one who has always seemed so effortlessly perfect. He watches as James’ face tightens with frustration, a mirror of the anger Regulus had felt when Sirius had disappeared from his life. Their shared history was a constant reminder of what had been lost and still festered between them.

The memories of Sirius leaving, of feeling abandoned and neglected, still stung. Despite how hard he tries to ignore it.

He could feel the echoes of his past life—his mother’s harsh criticisms and punishments, his father’s cold indifference as he wasted away with each bottle—resurfacing. The control he had meticulously built was slipping through his fingers, replaced by the chaos outside. The undoing of the world. 

Regulus takes a deep, steadying breath, clenching his fists. This chaos is far different from that of his childhood, but it was just as uncontrollable. His apartment is a fragile sanctuary amidst the upheaval, and he needs to keep it together. For all of their sake’s. He glances around their faces, each one marked by the strain of their situation, but also by a shared determination to survive. Persevere. Overcome. To live.

“Enough! If we’re going to do this,” Remus starts, his voice soft but firm, “we need to work together. We can’t afford to let our emotions drive us into reckless decisions. We need to make a plan, and we need to stick with it.”

The weight of his words hang in the air, balancing on the tension like a tightrope, as they take a minute to process the gravity of their situation. Regulus knows that the path ahead is fraught with danger and uncertainty, but he also knows that their survival depends on their ability to remain united and focused.

“And if we are going to find Harry, we need to think clearly. Charging out there without a plan will only get us all killed. We need to be smart about this,” Remus’s gaze is sympathetic as he addresses James.

In the end, it’s not just about finding their loved ones or dealing with immediate threats—they need to navigate the chaos of their new world while holding onto whatever fragments of hope and control they can manage. They need to adapt. Regulus’s resolve hardens as he prepares to face the daunting challenge ahead, determined to protect those he cares about and to carve out a chance for survival in a world gone mad.

With a final glance at the knife still lodged in the wall and a look of resolve in his eyes, Regulus readies himself for the next step in their harrowing journey. The fight for survival was farm from over, but for now, they had to find a way to move forward—together. Regrettably. Regulus would much prefer it was just him, Remus, Barty, and Evan. But he can deal with this.