Sirius is leaning on a wall, trying to turn into the shadows to escape anyone’s wandering eyes. He watches the people pass, the chatter of friends and enemies and acquaintances. And then. And then Remus passes. He has a wide smile on his face, and he’s waving his hands around as he chats with a new friend. Sirius’ heart aches, and he pushes back farther into the wall to hide from sight. Tears prick his eyes, and as much as Sirius tries to push them down, they fall unbidden, silently, down his cheeks. He remembers achingly when he was the one Remus would chat animatedly to, the one Remus would direct his gorgeous smile at. They’re just friends, he tries to tell himself, but he can’t help but feel betrayed, as if he’s being replaced, as if he never mattered. A hand on Sirius’ shoulder jolts him out of his reverie, and his muscles tense, ready for a fight. Before he can turn his head to see who approached him, a voice whispers in his ear, “now you know what you did to me.” Sirius blanches as he tries to recall who else he upset lately, and he forgets he was supposed to turn his head towards the hand now flitting off his shoulder. He shakes his head once, a quick movement easily mistaken for a shiver, and focuses back on his surroundings. Sirius’ heart plummets to his feet as he sees Regulus, his brother, his sole reason of survival, lock eyes with him over his shoulder. It’s not a glare, but he can feel the cold icy malice hidden in his little brother’s eyes. Just as sudden as Regulus appeared, he departs, turning his head back around and walking off into the throng of students. All thoughts of Remus are gone, and Sirius runs to the seventh corridor, practically running suicides in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. The door finally reveals itself, and Sirius flings open the door, slamming it shut as soon as he’s inside. There’s a bed there, with plenty of pillows, and Sirius falls onto it, curling his hands around the covers as he lets himself sob. It must be many minutes, or even hours, before finally he cannot cry anymore. He carefully lifts his head up and blinks blearily at the cup of water and box of tissues on the nightstand next to the bed. He pushes himself further up onto his knees and shakily grabs the glass, lifting it to his lips. The second the cool liquid enters his mouth, Sirius drinks like he’s been in the desert for days. The cup keeps refilling itself, only coming empty once Sirius has had at least a pint of water. Sirius leans over to put the glass down, and picks up the tissue box. It takes several tissues for his nose to even work again. Exhausted, Sirius lays back down, but falling onto the pillow soaked with his tears and snot, he throws it on the floor and grabs a new one, slipping under the covers as he rearranges himself. Feeling a lot like a rag twisted dry of any drop, Sirius finally settles off to sleep. Unknown to Sirius, far across the castle, Regulus lay dormant in his bed, berating himself for breaking his vow of silence towards his brother. And somewhere in the forest, gazing up at the sky, a centaur marvels as two stars, the brothers, finally twinkle together again.