Friday 30th June 1978.
James’ Pov-
Friday morning brings the usual breed of negativity that tends to arrive on the last day of school. Well, for James at least.
There is chatter buzzing all over the school, students in every corner rapidly ranting and gossiping with their friends, smiles covering their faces, he sees the excitement for going home in the way they swing their bags from their arms, accidentally hitting people left and right, he watches the last minute comments to friends, the letters being passed between hands, likely holding addresses for the muggleborns, dinner parties for the purebloods. He laughs to himself.
But to James, this has been his home, for 7years, and now that he is leaving, there is no bittersweet sadness, it just hurts.
Well it’s not his home home, it’s his joint home really. It isn’t a second home, it isn’t a home away from home, he could not compare the two if he ever really tried.
These two places, Hogwarts and Potter Manor, they are both his homes, equally, and in every sense of the word.
Although Hogwarts missed his parents, it gave him his friends, it gave him Sirius. It gave him a new concept, a new idea to 11yr old James. A chosen family, one he never thought he would need -given how close he was to his parents- but one he learned to appreciate all the same.
The only problem was, gaining this chosen family, gaining Sirius, well, it made going home to his parents- to Potter manor, a lot harder.
He knew his friend was out somewhere, in the world, being treated awfully, and he would spend the break surrounded by laughter and love, and all he could manage to do was continue counting down the days until he could see Sirius again.
Because that’s what Potter manor became to James after age 11, it was a place of worry and stress, and anxiety. Of never knowing if his friend was ok, never being able to relax within those walls, it left him desperately wanting to see his friend again, to just hold him, be with him. It left him feeling trapped inside those walls, a constant state of suffocation, because he knew, every kindness, every piece of love he was given was a pain Sirius would be receiving in equal measure, and he just couldn’t relax.
He got so worked up over it that it got to the point where 11yr old James was not only worried for his new best friend, but his friends little brother.
He wanted to stay at Hogwarts forever, keep his friend close by, safe at all times.
But that never happened, he would return home each holiday with his brother (who had apparently hardened a lot from how he was as a child), and James just had to watch it happen, his heart aching all the same.
So yes, Hogwarts was his home, because his home was in Sirius, and in Hogwarts James didn’t have to worry if he was safe.
Then came the dreaded night in easter, mere months ago, Sirius arriving in a heap through the flu network, ramblings falling from his lips about his brother, shakes overtaking his body from curses.
And he was finally safe, but James still didn’t feel relief, no, because in the past 6 and a half years he had formed a half bond with Regulus too, not quite friends, but not quite… not.
They had a relationship James didn’t even understand himself, Regulus had a slithering of respect for him for looking after his brother, and James in reverse.
And that respect bloomed into James wanting to get this other boy to laugh, knowing of his life at home, hearing of the Slytherin common room, he made it his mission be a reprieve for this boy, a lifeline. He wanted to be good for him. He had always had a bleeding heart, and it gushed for Regulus.
And so he made him laugh, and before he knew it, he was enamoured, his laughter, when his guard was dropped, the stone gates falling, James was hooked.
And he wanted them to be friends.
But then Sirius ran away, and they stopped talking, and Regulus fell away too.
And he still couldn’t be happy at the idea of going home for Summer, because he had Sirius, but Regulus was still lost.
A boy somewhere in the wandering sea of London, his existence constantly threatened by the people he called parents, and although James hadn’t been back home since Sirius moved in with them yet, he still knew he could never enjoy it.
Because all the fear that had been split between the two brothers, for the two brothers, had shifted to land on Regulus.
And he hadn’t been home yet, but he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe at the idea of him alone, couldn’t breathe at the idea of him trapped with death eaters, couldn’t breathe when Regulus had pushed him against the wall in the Gryffindor common room and informed him that James’ mere existence near him was a threat to him.
And so, after months of spiralling about how bad the summer would feel to him knowing Regulus was still lost to those walls, he joined the death eaters, he finally had both boys within his grasp, one more than the other, and he could finally follow them about, keep them safe.
He could finally be in his home, his real home with his parents, without feeling as though there was an anvil above his head, ready to kill him with the announcement of the death of another.
He could finally be fully at peace within one of his homes.
And yet, he couldn’t.
He could finally be with his parents, enjoy their company, for the first time in 7yrs without lingering fear.
And he couldn’t go home.
People often say he is the luckiest man, and he agrees- to an extent, certainly in contrast to his friends, but all luck has its limits.
And James’ hit yesterday morning.
Dear James,
I’m not quite sure what to say my darling.
Me and your father received an owl this morning from Dumbledore about your display in the hall at the remembrance service.
Sweetheart, you know we love you, which is why we need to ask, what is going on?
I do not believe Dumbledore to be the kind of man to fabricate such stories, but I will not believe it until I hear it from your lips.
Did you announce your allegiance to he who must not be named?
My darling, I wont believe a thing until you either confirm or deny this, you know we love you and trust you, which is why I must ask, what is going on?
Honey, you so often put others above yourself, you jump feet first and sometimes forget to stop and think. You are such a sweet, smart boy, but I worry that your loyalty and your need to do good sometimes cloud that. You are such a Gryffindor.
I am proud of you, always, I am proud of what you do, the person you have grown to be.
And that is why I know, if you did announce your allegiance to he who must not be named, I know there is something else, and I want you to know you can always talk to me.
But here is the difficult part my darling, if you did not say such a thing, if this is all a fabrication or misunderstanding of some sort, come home and we will sort it right away, we will stand behind you every second of the way, as we always have, as we always will.
If it’s not… if you really did say what we heard, and there is something else going on, I am afraid that coming home won’t be the best option right now.
You are making yourself a target, and they may expect you here.
We are here if you need anything, but if you have gotten into something, home may not be the safest place for you. And I refuse to let you get hurt.
Send Sirius our love, and sweetheart, we both love you so so much.
Please be smart, please be safe, don’t let such Gryffindorish ways cloud you judgement dear.
I hope you know what you’re doing.
-Mum xx
The letter had arrived Thursday morning at breakfast, less than 24hrs after the display in the hall and his parents where already reaching out, extending support and faith that he feels so undeserving of.
He know he isn’t truly following the death eaters ideals, he knows why he is doing all of this.
But isn’t it stemming from some route cause of selfishness?
He wants to protect Regulus and Sirius, he could easily help with the horcruxes from sidelines, help make the world a safer place.
One of them needed to join the death eaters, not 5, and yet he did it anyway, purely to protect the people he cares about.
And he isn’t oblivious, he knows he has a happy, positive, go lucky outlook on life that no one ever seems able to see beneath, but he isn’t dumb.
He knows he will have to prove loyalty, bend his morals until they snap, and he is doing it all because he can’t handle leaving the brothers alone.
He can’t.
He could’ve stood to the sidelines, helped in the shadows, one less death eaters in their ranks.
But he chose his own need, over everything else.
He chose Sirius over the world, because Sirius is his world, to the point where he would neglect the rest of it.
Regulus too, maybe not to such a degree, but becoming a death eater gave him an in with the boy again, he was no longer being pushed away by false pretences, by Sirius and Regulus needing to keep their distance.
He could start their relationship up again.
Regardless, he does not deserve his parents support, all it did was bring tears to his eyes, tears that had him rushing out of the great hall in the morning, only one person left able to truly care about him, there to run after him.
After all, to the rest of the school he was now just a death eater, why would they care, why would they think twice about what he has going on.
For all they know he has some muggles to kill.
It leaves him able to flee and break down in quiet solitude, before Sirius found him and was cradling him into his arms.
So gentle, as if he may break.
No, as if he had already broke, James does not let people see him break, the sight resulting in a shock to most people when he finally does.
So Sirius had held him, his body warm, attempting to encase James, almost protect him, as best as he can, until he finally weans the letter out of James’ hands, and then they are both a blubbering mess, clutching each other tightly in a little alcove in the hallway off of the great hall, where no one will care to look for them, because they are nothing anymore.
Simply another face that will soon hide under a cowards mask, torturing innocent people that will remind them of who they once called friends.
He snaps out of his once again spiralling thoughts, allowing himself to zone back into the situation at hand.
It’s 9am, and he is doing his last minute packing (per every year at Hogwarts), in his dorm room with only Sirius for company.
Remus and Peter, having packed on time (per usual), had decided to go down to breakfast early, and despite no one saying it, he knows it’s to avoid them.
“How are you doing?” James asked, turning around from where he was leaning over his bed, packing his bag to look at Sirius.
“Fine.” The other boys voice comes out completely monotonous, lacking the usual energy that Sirius tends to carry, sounding frightening similar to how he does when he comes back to school after the holidays.
“Pads.” James tries, attempting to make his voice sound stern, but he can hear the sympathy and softness ringing through.
“I’m fine James.” Sirius tries again, though there is a bit more bite to his tone.
“You don’t have to be.”
No response, and James heaves out a breath standing up and walking over to sit on the bed next to where Sirius is packing so he has to look at him.
“Sirius.”
“I chose this,” Sirius finally speaks up, voice cutting through the tension in the room, the tension that has been hanging around with or without the other two since the meeting on Wednesday, “I chose to follow my brother into this, I choose to keep him safe.”
“You can still be upset.”
“No, I can’t.” He states bluntly, and something in his tone of voice suggests just how much he believes that to be true.
“What?” is James’ only reply, dumfounded, confusion seeping into his voice, “You are being split from Remus, the girls-“
“And what would me being sad mean, huh?” he asks finally, whirling around.
“It would mean your human-“ James tries, only to immediately get cut off.
“It would mean I am choosing Remus over Regulus.”
“How would that-“ James goes to start, his confusion increasing by the minute, of course he isn’t choosing Remus over Regulus, quite the opposite really, but he isn’t going to point it out.
“Regulus is the one at risk, Remus is fine, so whichever side of the war I’m on has fuck all to do with who I’m prioritising. It only makes sense I follow Regulus, it doesn’t mean I’m prioritising him.”
“I don’t think-“ James tries, only to be cut off once again.
“And the fact that I seem to care more about being cut off from Remus than the threat to Regulus’ life-” his voice breaks quickly on the last word, before he is quickly pulling himself together, a mask falling over his face, the mask James has tried so hard to rid him of.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Sirius asks, tone empty.
“Cut yourself out.”
“Don’t you get it James, this is what we’re going to have to do,” he spits, harsher than James had expected, “Voldy isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, we cant prance our way through this with speeches about happiness and teamwork. We have to keep ourselves closed off, we have to spew blood purist bullshit, we have to kill.”
“Where is this all coming from?” James asks desperately, because Sirius had been so sure, so sure of what he was doing, of following Regulus, of getting his brother back, James cant imagine where all of this is coming from all of a sudden.
Sirius is the last person to prioritise someone over Regulus, he has done it once (and only with Regulus’ explicit permission), and he doesn’t think the other boy could tolerate doing it again.
“It’s coming from the truth James. This is war, we need to act like it.”
“You can act like it and still feel Sirius, missing Remus wont stop you protecting Regulus.”
“It might.” And with that he storms around and stalks off, James’ voice calling after him lost to the room.
He doesn’t seem to manage to spot Sirius again until they are boarding the train, the other boy seemingly having decided to skip breakfast (most likely fed up of the looks they keep getting in the hall and the new found distance placed between them and their friends), and he had taken the map, leaving no way for James to find him.
As a result, James is the first one to show up to the train station in Hogsmeade, waiting around so he can jump Sirius the second he gets a chance and prevent him from running and hiding in yet another compartment that will take James an age to find.
At least he doesn’t have the cloak, it’s a small win, but a win none the less.
And as he is waiting, he can’t help but watch.
Watch all the 7th years, leaving the castle walls for the final time, mixed looks of determination and fear on their faces, ready and nervous to face the world, the rising war, that they have been avoiding for 7yrs.
He sees the first years, excited giggles working their way through the groups, clearly eager to see their family again, but even amongst the naivety, he sees some of them, fear etched strong on their features.
Muggleborns he supposes, children with muggle parents of which they’ll have to explain a war to, of which they will have to deal with the brunt of it alone.
The fifth years, relief on their faces, a round of exams done, smiles to go home to, hugging their friends tighter in case they don’t come back.
This, this is why he is doing this.
Fighting in this war, trying, giving it his best shot, despite all his friends thinking he’s turned on him, this is why.
And just as he is thinking this, the best representation of why walks into his field of view, in the form of one Regulus Black.
He is walking tall, even for only a short trip to the train station, his posture perfect, his robes crisp, bags floating out in front of them as he makes his way over to the train with his friends.
And James just watches.
He watches the slight upturn of his lips at something Barty has just said, the smile James knows will fall (as it routinely does) every time he makes it off the train at the other platform.
He watches the slightest tension ease out of his shoulders, his posture lessening as Pandora softly touches his arm, even with all the students around him James knows he still feels a need to perform for.
He watches him catch James’ eye, a response given by the slightest tilt of the head, as his eyes stay perfectly still, no emotion pouring through, but no barricades being thrown up at the knowledge James is watching either.
And he returns the head tilt with a slight smile of his own, not one of his big performative grins, not his comforting lilt of the lips, merely a soft smile for Regulus as he watches the other boy board the train.
“What do you want Potter?”
“Help with the notes, Reggie.” He singsongs.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Don’t call me Potter.”
“Fine,” Regulus rolls his eyes hard.
“So…” James prompts.
“So what?” is the only response, a cruel smirk of the lips as Regulus watches James’ silly attempts at conversation.
James knows it’s not actually cruel, they’ve played this game a million times every ancient runes lesson, paired up at the back of the room since the beginning of third year.
“So will you help me?”
“You don’t need help.”
“Awe Reggg,” he starts, a grin crossing his face quickly as he places a hand over his heart, “are you calling me smart?”
“No,” is the curt response, but James can see the slightest bit of red rising on the other boys cheeks, and his grin only grows in response, “I’m calling you a pain”
“That’s not what I think.” James sing songs.
“Well,” starts Regulus, a winning grin working its way onto his features, “If your struggling with the easiest topic of the syllabus, I don’t think your thoughts are all that important.”
“Mean.” But James is grinning, because this boy is talking to him, and he has a level of banter that he didn’t quite predict, that Sirius never told him of.
“Yes.” Is his simple response.
“So… will you help?” he tries again, slightly sheepishly this time but no less confident.
“Fine.” And Regulus rolls his eyes pulling James’ sheet in front of him, and James can’t be sure, but he is pretty certain he saw the slightest tilt to Regulus’ lips.
Sirius’ Pov-
7 years.
7 years at Hogwarts, of fun with his friends, of finding a real home- not one forged in the pain of his family.
Of exams, and pranks, and full moons, illegal magic and maps.
7 years of his life, the only good 7 years of his life, and it had all boiled down to this.
To getting on the Hogwarts express for the final time, the final trip home, the final day in this castle- this home, and the last memories of it are going to leave a vile taste in his mouth.
He hates it, so when James confronts him, tells him to ‘feel his feelings’, he runs.
Because what Pandora said yesterday was correct, she has no reason to believe that Sirius would put Regulus first if it came to it, not with Remus lingering around in his mind.
He needed to focus, focus on his brother who was most in danger, he couldn’t be distracted, part of him almost wishes Remus would pull away, would not know the death eater plan was all a ruse, at least then he would be able to properly keep his distance.
His brother must be his priority, he used to take the hits for Regulus, and in doing so he made himself blind to the fact that Regulus was attempting to take the biggest hit of them all-
for him.
So no, no matter what James says to him, he can’t break down over Remus, he can’t lose focus on his brother, he has done it once before he refuses to do it again.
But it does make his final days at Hogwarts uncomfortable.
He cant be with his boyfriend- no that’s not a problem, he is ignoring it.
He is joining the death eaters- no that’s fine, he has been training for it his whole life, surrounded by that family and those people.
His best friend is joining the death eaters- he can protect him keep him safe, surely… Pandora has to be wrong, he can keep his friends safe, if it’s the last thing he does.
Except, it cant be the last thing he does or else that leaves his friends with no one to look out for them.
It happened before, he was going to die so he left that house, and that left Regulus in the line of fire.
He needs to stay alive to keep his friends alive, his brother alive.
Because that needs to be his biggest focus, Regulus.
So, he will get on that train, he will go home, and he will start his new shitty excuse for a life.
One where he gives in to his parents ideals, what they had been pushing him towards for years, and fake or not, he is finally going to be living that life.
Going to those meetings, being a part of those ambushes, socialising with those murderers.
He got out, he finally made an escape, he was going to be away from it all, the shittiness, the parental pressure. He had 2 months, 2 months in his entire life where he was free, out of his parents grip, and now he is right back where he started, worse off actually.
He didn’t even get to enjoy those 2 months, because his brother was still in that house, or at least a part of it. And he was starting to wonder whether he will ever actually be free, wonder if he could ever have a semblance of a life, of enjoying existing without a constant weight pressing down on his chest.
It’s a constant feeling of worry, that feeling of never knowing what to do, of knowing how his beliefs are fully stemming from anything that could possibly oppose his parents. Nothing about him is original, everything about him formed from his childhood, that house, even him trying to counter it leaves him knowing his parents formed who he was.
If anything Regulus is more himself than Sirius ever was, and he managed it inside their walls. They both put on acts but neither the same.
Sirius an act of rebellion, so strung in his morals trying to be everything his parents hate, a constant perfromance to the world, no clue who he really is inside his own mind, a lost form floating around the abyss, the only thing he is sure of being his love for his friends, for his brother, his deep seeded needed to keep them safe.
But even he doesn’t know where that came from, he was never taught love, so how is it that he is so certain, he has it for these people?
His mind has never made sense to him.
Regulus on the other hand, he held up a performance to, a picture perfect unbreakable one.
He is the perfect heir, the heir that Sirius could never be, he holds himself high, displays impeccable posture, perfect linguistics, everything Sirius detests, never letting his guard down, the picture of aristocratic society at its finest.
And yet the real Regulus, the true Regulus, his Reggie, he was the one who worked in secret, who went after the dark lord, who risked his life running into chambers, who got petrified because he had to check his friend was ok.
That was the true Regulus, and Sirius envied him for it, because he could do it all in secret, and if it wasn’t a performance, what else was it other than the truth?
Regulus was good at his core, he knew who he was, he didn’t need it to be a big display, in fact he would let half the world hate him in order to get things done, to save people.
Sirius’ entire life was a drawn out performance, and is one really good if they are only ever being it to spite another?
Doesn’t that make him bad?
He wants Voldemort to die, for hurting his brother, putting his friends at risk. He wants him to burn, and rot, and die, and suffer for eternity.
But is it just because of the people he loves, is he really that selfish?
The overwhelming feeling of disgust towards the man started before he had ever lain a finger on anyone he cared about.
But was that because he was good, or was it simply the need to contradict his parents coming through once more?
The Blacks genetics are fucked, years of inbreeding that somehow didn’t seem to affect their looks.
But the genetics, they are only one part of it, the environment, that’s what makes them all living breathing copies of each other, so that even when one runs away, they do not loose the stubbornness, the determination, the ability to manipulate.
The spite, is that all Sirius runs on, spite?
Is the need to contradict his parents at every turn bred from a trait they gave him in the first place.
Is his disobedience a thing they taught him too?
Is he following their rules even in their absence.
And is he now heading directly where they wanted him in the first place.
The death eaters, it’s not feeling so fake anymore.
“Earth to Sirius.”
A voice cuts in from somewhere behind him, his head snapping to attention looking for the owner of the voice.
James.
Of course it’s James, it’s not as if anyone else would be seeking him out anymore, he is hated, he isn’t a casual Slytherin that everyone expected to turn out this way.
He is a Gryffindor, he was meant to be good, now people don’t look at him with simple disgust or fear, there is betrayal mixed in theere too.
Even from students he doesn’t know, the younger years he used to protect in the hall from the exact people he is joining now.
He sees the betrayal and it hurts, he wonders how James feels, they expected more from him, after all he was never a Black in the first place, he was always meant to be good.
The betrayal has seeped into his brothers eyes too, hurt but hiding it, hurt that Sirius is preventing him from being a little self-sacrificing idiot.
So yes, it’s James, no one else would look for him, he’s betrayed everyone else.
“Prongs.” He tries back in greeting, forcing his mind out of its spiral and into the inevitable conversation at hand.
“We should probably board,” comes James’ voice, not commenting on the faraway look Sirius is sure he has in his eye, “we’ll need to find a compartment.”
Sirius’ brow furrows at that, a compartment? “We have one, our usual?” he questions back, it’s the same one they’ve had since first year, no one else ever takes in because they all know it’s the Marauders-
Oh.
He looks back to James as realisation dawns on his feature, pity flittering across James’ in response.
“We need to find a compartment.” He repeats James’ prior statement dumbly, a feeling of numb washing over him as he brushes away the hurt of Remus’ absence.
He cant be focused on him, not now.
Regulus.
Regulus, he repeats as a mantra in his head, he needs to focus on his brother, nothing else matters.
“Yeah,” James’ soft spoken agreement comes to his ears, so quiet from him, so unusual, and Sirius is starkly reminded that this is all hurting him too, he turns to his friend wanting to comfort, to let him know he doesn’t have to put up a shield for Sirius as the other boy has seemed so inclined to do, their whole lives together, but as his eyes fall on James’ face, his throat closes up, and the words die there, never having been fully formed in the first place, “let’s go.”
And as they walk, arms linked, Sirius resolves himself to talk to James later, after they’ve been to Gringotts, after they’ve purchased their new home-because they had chosen to head the advice in Effie’s letter yesterday, they won’t be going home, instead they will be purchasing a new house.
A house, not a home, because Sirius fears a house could never be a home without Effie and Monty, he fears he will never know a home again if he doesn’t get out of this war.
But nonetheless they will buy a new home, and then, and only then will Sirius help James to break, as he so desperately deserves a moments to do.
A while later, holed up in their train carriage together, leaning on each other, legs tangled up together draping over each other’s laps, a comfortable yet daunting silence lingering between them, a set of faces stop at the door, before it quickly slides open, and in walks Barty, Evan, Pandora and Regulus, the latter being dragged in by the former.
“Yeah, that needs to stop.” Comes Evans voice, as he leads the new group into the room.
“What?” snaps James’ voice, slightly harsher than usual, he hasn’t been in a good mood since the letter- though he has tried to hide it for Sirius’ sake, but clearly after last night- where Regulus’ friends seemed determined to harass them both, James is still a bit bitter and defensive, but he watches his friends eyes soften as they fall on his brother.
Huh.
“The hugging?” Evan states, an almost questioning lilt to his voice as if they are stupid for not catching on, “You cant be all buddy buddy if you’re joining the death eaters.”
“Don’t tell me how to be with my friends.” Cuts James’ voice now, harsher than before.
“He’s trying to protect you, don’t be so Potter.” Comes Barty, who has been standing to Evans left up until they plopped down on the seat opposite them, leaving Regulus to sit beside them closest to the door, Pandora opposite him sat next to James, and finds himself quickly turning away from her, avoiding her eyes.
“Don’t be so Potter?” Sirius asks, immediately coming to his friends defence, a scowl on his face, one he learned and perfected from his father, the only thing he ever taught him that he can actually appreciate.
“Yeah,” Barty laughs, “it’s when you get so high and mighty acting like you’re the best, you can’t even accept simple advice.”
“How is that simple advice?” James retorts again, the frustration still leaking through his tone in waves.
“Because Potter,” cuts in Evan, an unamused look on his face, perfectly countering Bartys next to him, who looks as if he’s enjoying a show, “It’s the death eaters, and I know you grew up all happy with mummy and daddy doting on you every second of they day, but even you, a pureblood, should know the dark lord wont take too kindly to such displays of affection.” He indicates again with his head, nodding between the two of them, highlighting how they are almost sprawled over each other, as if they are the ones dating, not him and moony.
He slowly disentangles himself from James, a scowl on his face the whole time.
“It’s for the best,” cuts in Pandoras melodic tone somewhere to his left, and as he tries his best to avoid looking at her, but he catches his brothers suspicious eyes darting between him and his friend, and to remove any snooping his brother may do to figure out why there is animosity between him and the girl, he looks to her instead, attention rapt on her as she continues,
“You don’t want to become a target from the very group you’re trying to join.” She comments, her eyes twinkling, and Sirius sees the hidden message, don’t risk Regulus.
It’s becoming a very common theme of threats with her.
“No, I wouldn’t.” he says slowly, not breaking eye contact, until he feels a gaze on the back of his neck, tearing his eyes away from Pandora his eyes fall back on his brothers who is gazing at him with such intensity Sirius feels as though he is trying to see into his brain.
Which he could be for all he knows, it wouldn’t surprise him if Regulus just casually dropped the ability to perform legilimency as a fun fact one day.
Nonetheless, he can’t feel anyone painfully tearing through his brain so he lets go of that train of thought.
Regulus’ Pov-
The train ride dragged.
He originally planned to relax in his own compartment with his friends, relax, have a break, before he goes home to his parents, back to the war, back to lies and deception and trying to find horcruxes from one of the most arguably dangerous men in the world.
But all that went out the window on Wednesday when his brother and Potter decided to trigger a death wish into action when they decided to revoke their support for Dumbledore in front of the whole hall.
And he knows Voldemort would have heard, he has ears everywhere, he is just waiting for a summons from his parents, Voldemort himself, Bella, anyone about the potential new Gryffindor recruits and what to do with them.
Hence the ruin to his peaceful peaceful plans, the unwanted socializing.
Granted it’s only his brother and Potter, but that’s equivalent to a whole party of people and it’s going to give him a headache.
But it’s necessary, and he told his friends as much when he requested them to come with him to ‘teach’ the two idiots, how to act around death eaters.
Hopefully his brother wont be completely dense, after all they were raised in the same house, and no matter how much Sirius protested it, he should know the basics.
Potter, well that’s a whole other matter.
So yes, he is in a carriage with his brother, and Pandora may have had to drag him through the door, but it was his idea, and he is going to stick to it.
Because it’s smart, just like all his ideas.
Which are annoying when his ideas inconvenience him.
“It’s for the best.” He hears Pandora say as he filters out the rest of the conversation , watching Sirius and James disentangle themselves from each other, a wave of anger washing over him.
Because of course they’re this close, of course they have been able to hold each other and comfort each other, of course their entire relationship isn’t hidden under duvets in the dead of night, hoping their mother doesn’t hear them out of bed.
Of course Sirius found a new brother, one he can be closer to than James.
And he can’t hate Sirius for that, he doesn’t hate him.
But knowing his brother got that 2 month reprieve from their families, that small window of peace, he is jealous of it, even if he is now crashing back into the life he only just got out of, because at least he got out.
And it’s not just those 2months that Sirius has had a break from that house, arguably his brother has been half out their house for 7yrs, the Gryffindor common room a reprieve, a place that they both know wouldn’t be littered with people who could report back to their parents every action and toe out of line he takes.
Not like the Slytherin common rooms, not like Regulus has to deal with.
And even if his brother is coming back to the death eaters, he still isn’t going back to Grimmauld, he still won’t accompany Regulus home.
He said it in the hall, he doesn’t regret leaving their parents, he regrets leaving the dark lord (and even though the second half was a lie), he knows it would be foolish to believe Sirius would come back to the house with him, just because he is willing to join the death eaters for him doesn’t mean he would deal with their family again.
It would arguably be worse, dealing with their family. And its not like Regulus can leave them- he needs access to that house, those texts, just in case. He needs to be cautious, always, it’s rather annoying sometimes, but it’s true all the same.
Point is Sirius won’t come home.
And Regulus wont hate him for it.
“What are you even doing here?” Sirius bites out, his voice drawing Regulus back into the conversation at hand.
“Awe don’t be so mean to your baby bro.” Bartys voice laughs out, and Regulus find his eyes snapping to his friend, levelling him with a glare, what?
“I’m not talking about him.” is Sirius’ response, his voice hard and cold, reminding Regulus earily of their father.
“Awe, do you not want us here big bro?” Bartys calls back, all smiles and overexaggerated grins, it kind of reminds him of Sirius for a second.
“Correct.”
“Awe that’s a shame, because Reggie does.” A cocky smile graces Bartys lips as he nods his head towards Regulus.
“Barty.” Evan bites out as Regulus glares at the other boy, feeling his brothers eyes switching to stare him down.
“Reg?” comes his brothers voice, slightly weak, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes, that Regulus doesn’t know if he is going to dull.
“Sirius.” Is his only response, and it’s petulant but he doesn’t want to address it yet.
“What does he mean?” he asks, the hope still stuck in his eyes, it pulls at Regulus’ heart.
He tries to switch his gaze over to look at James, but only sees the other boy looking back at him, curiosity burning in his eyes, his gaze strong and unwavering, Regulus refusing to be the first to break it until his brothers cough startles him and James looks away first.
“Evan and Barty are going to go over proper death eater etiquette with you both.”
A scoff, “I don’t need training, I grew up in that world.” At the same time as James blurts out,
“Why not you?” a curious tone in is voice.
“Because despite you growing up in that world, you have been in the lions den for 7yrs, you’re rusty.” Is his only response, ignoring James’ curious gaze that is back on him now.
“But-“
“No,” he cuts his brother off, own gaze burning, “no, you fucked up, you are putting me and my friends at risk, you will listen and you will learn or I won’t vouch for you when asked, because we both know I will be asked.”
Sirius doesn’t protest, they both know he wont betray them to the death eaters, he wont put a bounty on their heads from both sides of the war, but he must see something, hear the fear in Regulus’s tone that he tried so desperately to conceal, because for once in his life, he doesn’t fight him on it.
“Right,” cuts in Evan, clearly happy to lead this conversation, he has a stable head on him, one Regulus thinks is necessary when being with Barty, “firstly, no touchy feely shit.”
Eloquent, Regulus would scoff if he wasn’t so tense, wasn’t so focused on keeping his mask raised.
“Yeah, picked up on that Rosier.” Sirius bites out, his eyes thankfully off Regulus and back to glaring at his friends.
“Surname, you’re improving, your Slytherin is showing.” Evan smiles sadistically and moments like this remind Regulus why Barty likes him.
“I’m not a Slytherin.”
“I know, that would be an insult to us.”
“Oi”.
“Stop it.” Regulus cuts in, biting, “Fucking listen and focus, I’m not going to be the reason you lot are dead.”
“Reg-“ Sirius starts, pity gleaming through his eyes, intermingling with previous hope, but Regulus raises a hand, a coiled feeling in his stomach. “Just, focus, your lion brains can do that, no?”
And so, they study.
“First things first,” and it’s Evan again, taking charge, a sensible head on his shoulders that is choosing to lead the group because Regulus so clearly doesn’t want to, “don’t speak unless spoken to, full stop. Not to other death eaters, not to new recruits and certainly not to the dark lord himself.”
“Well that’s obvious.” Sirius responded, rolling his eyes at the same time that James’ voice filtered through.
“Why not the new recruits?”
Regulus couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at the pure confusion on James’ face, the childlike innocence that he knows is about to be wiped away, but they need to get rid of it before the dark lord does, or James won’t cope.
But they won’t have time, Regulus knows this, he just doesn’t know why he cares.
Of course they used to be close, not friends per say, but Regulus talked to him a great deal more than anyone else at school (a pretty low bar), and yet they still haven’t talked in months, so why does he care?
“Because Potter,” Regulus snaps out, his annoyance cancelling out his desire to avoid this conversation, “you have already drawn enough attention to yourself with that display in the hall, you don’t need to bring more of it.”
“Won’t it be weirder if we don’t talk?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing adora- in confusion.
“No, trust us it’s normal, unless you are Bellatrix or Lucius and kissing his ass, people don’t speak. All attention in those meetings is the wrong attention, especially for people like you.” Evan explains simply, the sharpness in his voice missing unlike Regulus’.
“People like us?” Sirius asks, a brow raised, a scowl back on his face.
“Spies.”
“You guys are spies too?” James’ confusion is getting annoying at this point, honestly how doesn’t he understand this stuff, he is a pureblood, isn’t he? He is one of the smartest in his year, no?
“Yes,” and it’s Barty this time the earlier playfulness in his voice striped away, “but we are not in the loop, we are less of a threat to this ‘operation’ than you guys, and we know how to handle ourselves.” He argues, air quoting ‘operation’, Regulus knows Barty is still bitter about being left out of the loop, and it is coming across clear as day right now.
“And we don’t?” James tries again.
“No Potter you don’t, considering the amount of stupid questions you have asked, and I don’t know, your entire personality, you wont know how to handle yourself, you are just proving that right now.” Regulus snaps back.
“Careful, I’ll start thinking you care about whether I live or die.” James jokes.
“I care about you ruining this for all of us, I care about you putting the entire plan on the line, I care about you getting my friends or my brother killed.” He snaps out.
“Aweee Reg.” Barty nudges him in the arm, eliciting a scowl from him, and Regulus wishes looks would kill.
But apparently they’re enough to get the message across, and the train compartment falls silent, only James quiet “Right.” Coming across, the hurt in his eyes palpable.
And Regulus doesn’t mean to hurt him, the twinge of guilt in his gut lets him know as much, but he wont take it back, besides, if James cant handle that how will he handle the death eaters?
When they finally get off the train they quickly go their separate ways, not that Regulus wants to go home, but he wants to get out of an inevitable conversation convincing him not to go home, because he has to, he does.
Right?
And since he is officially 18, has been of age for over a year, he can apparate now, right into his parents waiting clutches.
He crosses the train station to a little corner, looking out over all the bustling of the students, looking for only one second, careful not to reach the threshold of ‘nostalgic’, before quickly turning on one foot to apparate away.
He feels a pull in his navel, his stomach twist- not from the apparition but from the destination- and watches as the world blurs past him before he lands gracefully on the front step of Grimmauld place, the door immediately opening to reveal Kreacher, bowing deeply to welcome him home.
“Master Regulus is home.” Comes the scratchy voice of his elf, bowing deeply down to him.
“Hello Kreacher.” He nods his head slightly to the elf, a sign of respect he only ever gives when he can be sure his mother isn’t around, like the first moment he gets home from school.
“Master Regulus is wanted in his fathers office.” Kreacher responds, a tinge of sympathy in his eyes, one he would usually despise, but on his elf, who has his autonomy stripped, whose only emotions and beliefs can be expressed through looks, well he can never begrudge him for that.
“Thank you Kreacher.”
“Kreacher will take you things to your room sir, Kreacher will run yous a bath.”
“Thank you Kreacher.” Is all Regulus finds himself repeating, he cant be doing this right now, he needs to build up his occlumency shields, they lowered slightly on the train, his annoying friends, his brother and Potter all acting as such nuisances he could hardly keep his annoyance blocked out, which left a crack in his defences letting other emotions have a way out too.
He has 2 minutes to fix them on his walk up the room, so he delved into his mind, barricading it, a forcefield.
He stands on the beach, the wind non-existent not even a flutter of it pushing his hair around, and he watches as a crate materialises in front of him, green tiled and scaly like that of a snake, it is wet and mold is peaking through the corners resembling the damp of the chamber, the body of a snake.
He watches as the lid slowly opens, leaving the inside open and available to the scrutinizing gaze of his eyes, pure blackness, an abyss he cant see the bottom of, he feels the memories, of the chamber, the room of requirement, the train ride lingering at the sides of his brain, and quickly he lets each of them fill him up, the memories reliving their way through his mind before he pushes them in one by one, his hand pressing into the box one memory at a time, keeping them shoved down, out of his grip, until the memories fade to dull whisperings.
He closes the lid of the box after him, not a noise sounding on the beach before he pulls at a key on his belt, a keychain filled with almost identical keys all hitting each other, no ringing noise coming from the clanging metal, and he locks the box, selecting a key he knows to be right.
The muggle contraption zips back to his pocket, tucking it away behind his jacket before he then proceeds to pick up the box and walk down the boardwalk slightly to his side, following it down, feeling the wooden panels beneath his feet, when he gets to the end, he watches as a long chain materialises connecting the box in his hands to the end of the boardwalk, and he throws in, as far as he can, watches as the water consumes it- swallowing it whole not a splash being made. And he watches as it sinks, disappearing into the clear depths, the false impression of crystal clear water leaving occulmens like his mother avoiding it for belief it is empty, even though Regulus knows everything below is invisible to the eye, and he watches as the chain disappears too, becoming undetectable.
Only retrievable by merely knowing it’s there, only retrievable by Regulus.
He then turns slightly to the side, looking to the murkier waters, the black lake which he can see a few chains falling into, ever visible, and he pulls on one, quickly pulling it out and into his grasp, assessing the contents of the box on the end of it as it ends up in his arms, and he lifts out the memories, holding them in his palm, inspecting them one by one.
He watches the memory of that in the great hall, James and Sirius fighting with Dumbledore, he watches as the memory bleeds into other ones, him avoiding Sirius’ eyes from across the hall, all memories showing his proven lack of involvement with his brother, memories his mother will find satisfying.
He drops the memories back into the box, making sure not to push them down, letting the lid close, locking the lid, he lets go of the chain, letting it fall back into the sea, only accessible by the chain laying by his feet.
And he stands there, finally letting his minds walls come up, the water level rising until he is submerged in it, his feet lifting slightly off the boardwalk as the water covers his head, he floats through it slightly, stilled in the moment. He looks around him, hard to see far from in front of his eyes, watches the chains of the memories he just threw out slightly in the distance, but obvious enough for his mother to reach out for.
The invisible chains connected to the more protected boxes, all of it out of sight, drifted off somewhere to his left.
He lets his mind blank, the loss of locked away memories numb him as he continues his way up to the office.
Ready, he’s ready.
He knocks on the door, twice, rapt. No hesitation, and waits for a call, beckoning him in.
“Come in.” his mothers voice, he expected it, but couldn’t help but wonder where his father was.
He opens the door slowly, keeping his hand on it until the door has a wide enough berth to walk in, not letting the door bang, complete control, complete composure.
“Mother.” He inclines his head slightly, a show of respect before he stays quiet, waiting on a request for him to speak.
“Regulus, how was school?”
He hears the question for what it is, an inquiry of his grades, an expectation of perfection, more than anything it’s a delay for the inevitable, whatever the inevitable is, and he wishes she would just get to the point.
“Very well, I have gotten the highest marks in my classes throughout the year, and I am expecting all O’s for my Newts.”
“Good. You know we don’t accept anything other than perfection.” She states, her voice calm and clear, walking slowly around the desk to stand before him. a predator stalking its pray rather than a mother coming to greet her child.
“Yes Mother.” He inclines his head again slightly, a moment of respect, a moment to avoid her scrutinising eyes, the grey of them reminding him of his own, his brothers- he represses a shudder.
She takes another step forward, and he watches as her black dress sweeps across the floor, raising his head to look back into her eyes, no matter how uncomfortable it makes him.
“What happened on Wednesday Regulus?” she asks, her tone curious and cold, he doesn’t miss the way her eyes glint, a test.
He knows she is using this, she knows what has happened- there is no way she doesn’t, and he knows she has access to his own memories if she only lets a simple word fall from her lips, but first she wants to see if he will admit to it, admit to what he knows, grant her honesty.
But is it honesty if it will be ripped from your mind anyway?
“Sirius and Potter made a display in the hall.” He replies, monotone, all emotions pushed away in his head, lost in the sea of memories locked in chests on chains, drifting alongside him. A look of complete indifference settled and sealed onto his face.
“A display?” Of course, she wants more, she wont ask for it, she expects it.
“Yes, they discussed turning on Dumbledore, joining the dark lord.” He admits, internally begrudging, he still wishes they would change their minds, run away.
“Discussed?” she asks, a bitter laugh falling from her lips, her eyes glinting as if this is all very entertaining, “I heard they made quite the scene.”
“Yes, it was rather unbecoming.”
“Indeed, this wasn’t the way I expected Sirius to come back to us, but it is a start.” She muses softly.
“I don’t believe he intends to come home mother.” And he knows he shouldn’t have said it the second the words pass his lips, he sees how his mother’s eyes flash at his response.
“Of course not,” she all but sneers- he is sure she would if she didn’t view it as so improper, “legilimens.”
And it’s then that he feels it, her clawing hand ripping through his mind that he has grown to expect, it’s all water but she manages to grip and pull, pain clouding his mind, but he leans into it, lets it consume him, it’s a far better emotion for her to feel than his anger, his anxiety, his worry.
She watches as her arm moves through the waves, before it stills, stops, sensing the chain floating softly in the distance, blurred by the water, set up perfectly for her to latch onto, peer through.
He feels the memories cloud through his mind as she opens the box, letting the experiences drift aimlessly through the sea, her clutching them one by one before it goes too far out of her reach.
He watches as he sees the fight in the great hall, sees his brother looking at him from across the room, watches as he turns away time and time again.
The perfect heir, ignoring the disinherited son, everything his mother wants.
“Tut tut tut.” Comes his mothers voice, he thinks it’s in his head but he opens his eyes to see his mothers lips moving, he tries to focus on them through the lingering pain pulsating though his mind, “Such a disappointment my darling boy.”
He keeps his mouth closed, not wanting to say a word, not wanting to mess up more than he somehow already has. She wants Sirius back, of course she does, how did he miss this?
“You should know this is a good thing, the disappointing heir finally coming to his sense,” she knows he isn’t coming home, he doesn’t say a word, “But now that he’s back, we wouldn’t want him to mess up again, wouldn’t want him to bring more shame on this family than he already has, would we?” she asks, threats practically screaming in her face.
“No mother.”
“Then it’s settled,” she whips around, walking back behind the desk, resting her hand on the chair before him, “you will keep an eye on your brother, bring him to his senses.”
“Yes mother.”
“Good.” She steps forward, moving the chair slightly away so she can get closer to him, “Don’t mess up.”
“Yes mother.” He repeats again, the repetition hitting at his skull again and again, he’s weak, victim to her demands over and over again.
“Crucio.” Her voice whips like a crack through the room, and all of a sudden he feels the air burning, sizzling, burning at his skin, peeling it away, melting it off.
There are needles piercing at his heart, stabbing repetitive motions causing him to shake and contract his body inwards as he falls to the floor,the needles continuing down and up, into his liver, his throat, his eyes.
And his eyes, he cant see out of them, they’re glossed over, is it tears?
His train of thought is cut off as another wave of pain courses through him, he feels like the skin is being peeled off, cut from his body, melted from his body, torn from his body.
His lungs are slowly filling with water, scalding pins dipped in fire pricking everywhere, cutting him up, his hair is being pulled out, a knife lodged in his stomach.
And he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe.
But he still doesn’t scream.
“Don’t let me down Regulus, if your brother embarrasses us further, if he lets us down to the Dark Lord, this will be much worse.” His mothers icy cold voice cuts through, a grip back to reality, a lifeline, he grabs it.
Right, the embarrassment is his brother, the boy finding his way back to the dark lord is her son. Sirius is only ever hers when she can show him off, when she can gloat, when she can use him.
He waits until he hears her exit the room, the door clicking behind her shut, before he calls for Kreacher.
“Master Regulus!” he hears the elf yell, reaching for Regulus before he flinches away instinctively, regretting it as the elves eyes widen in worry.
He quickly stills himself, trying to force his body into a state of calm, forcing himself not to react as the elf reaches for him again, helping him up and to his room.
When he’s finally there, he lets the water soak over his limbs, the bath Kreacher had made him thankfully ready and waiting for him there, making quick work of trying to soothe his aching muscles.
He submerges his body further, all the while trying to ignore the fact that it is replicating the same feeling that is currently numbing his head from all the memories, almost using the feeling of water as a pull to bring the memories back to the surface.
He pushes the comparison away, working to keep his mind closed off.
When the next day finally arrives he quickly apparates to his brothers new home, he needs to teach them legilimency.
Now.