The bombs

With the rest of his friends here I thought that I'd be alone. For the record book I would like to state that I haven't been left alone since the fourth one got here.

Sirius was obsessed for a bit, after the situation with James he wouldn't stop fussing over him very loudly. Almost like Effie and Monty had done. But once the first night with him had passed he was back to being my leach. Hanging onto me, entering and leaving a room when I did. It was getting quite annoying not having my own space.

“What's all this?” I asked.

Standing at the doorway to my bedroom I leaned on the frame. On the floor were multiple pieces of parchment ready to be written on. Sirius laid on his stomach in front of them, quill in his mouth.

“Friends” was mumbled without a stare in my direction.

I carefully walked over the papers to sit on the edge of my bed looking down at him.

“I thought all your friends were downstairs?

He pushed himself up on his elbows and dropped the quill to the floor.

“I have more, these letters are going to the girls”
“You haven't already written them?”

The look on his face unrecognizable he shook his head with a quick “i didn't know what to say”

I leaned over the bed to pick up and organize the parchments and envelopes.

“Sure had a lot to say to Lupin.” i said with a stare

He took back the papers and stood up, slowly backing away from the bed.

“He needed to be caught up”

“And the rest didn't?”

“You don't understand regulus.”

“No i really don't, enlighten me”

“Stop.”

“Whatever Sirius”

I stood up with a sigh, certain that if I left him on a somber note that he’d leave me alone. Shoving past him to get to the door and he didn't stop me. I considered it a success. Actually looking at the almost closed door and opening it to see Remus with his fist raised, i changed my mind.

Remus was much taller than me. He wasn't even that much older, but he was at least a foot taller. And he was always wearing clothes like he owned a second hand shop, even if I knew for a fact his father had money.

He opened and shut his mouth as he tried to come up with something to say. I put my hand up before he had the chance.

“He’s all yours” I said with a final shove of him and my exit away from the room.

The potter's house had a small hallway on the side that led to three doors. On the right door led to the library, the left led to the greenhouse. And the door in front of me, I had no idea.

Standing with my choices I made my breathing silent, to see if there was anyone else around me who could hear me creeping about. After a few minutes of silence, I stepped towards the door to find that it was unlocked.

At first glance you can see nothing. Purely because of the giant sunlight in the roof and the way everything is reflecting light. On second glance, as the door closes softly behind you, you can tell that there's an entire floor dedicated to vases with paintings on them. Clay ones, glass ones, scraps made into art. In the farthest right corner, there was a graveyard of canvases, a stack of wood pieces in the opposite corner.

What's made to be art decorating the walls. And in the typical art fashion, the room was messy in only the way an artist can see as clean. In the exact middle of the room there was a standing table with a tall stool fallen to the floor.

I walked towards the table and could see the engraved cover on all of the piled-up books, the table itself being painted wood. Painted in the way there were hundreds of little designs decorating the surface.

There are some things that someone would never think a witch or wizard would think differently about. Like chores or hobbies. But the reality of that is not being able to see how art is valued to normal people. In my entire life, in my father's life and his father before him, I can guarantee they have never seen something as beautiful as the room I stand in now.

I took a few of the books and started flipping through them. The pages being the same as the room, a messy sense of art.

Everything about the potters was being captured in this room. The light through the windows, the smell of tea and firewood. It was the sort of overwhelming that one comes to terms with very quickly. It takes everything bad about a person and blocks it out by the feeling of warmth. Sick, sick, warmth. The way if I had anything really wrong would make me want to cry. All three family members shown so individually the way my house had never shown.

“I thought the door was locked?”

I set the books down and lifted my head up to see the offspring of sun himself, James Potter. The light from the hallway doing nothing to stop him from looking like the angel of light.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know if I was allowed in or not”

He smiled and walked it, the swing door slowly closing. Walking to the opposite side of the tall table.

“It’s alright. We don’t have many quests that roam so I forget to lock it”

“I can leave if you’d like me to James.”

“I never said I wanted you gone”

I keep my head down for a lot of reasons. Not to get hurt, to seem respectful. Those being my main focus for a long time. Recently I’ve noticed that I keep my head down to stop noticing. That when I look up, I see too much.

James keeps his head up; doesn't know his reasons and doesn't know why he never looks down. But he never notices that much. Perfectly oblivious to the most obvious things. And if you think about it. That's a very James Potter thing to do. To leave things alone but appreciate them. I sound poetic, don't I?

“I can give you the key if you’d like?”

I look up to see him, to notice.

“The key?”

“Yeah!” he looked surprised at his initial excitement before running his hands over the ends of the books.

“It's not like Siri and Moony need to be in here.” he laughed, seemingly more to himself but laughing still.

I nodded at him and started walking around the room more. To give a closer look to the things that the light was shining on. “I think that’d be nice” I replied eventually.

“And regulus if you'd ever like to talk about-”

I cut him off quickly and stood from the art I was squatting in front of.

“Don't James.”

It was bad seeing this boy frown, more so if anyone is still seeing him as the sun. And the worst when you realize you're the one actively upsetting him. And I promise, I swear, if I was a better person in a better situation I would have done more. When I am happier and the whole nightmare of being the youngest black son is over, I will make him happier.

But right now, that's not how it is, so he's going to have to settle for my mumbled apology.

“I don't. Please don't make me”

He regards me with a hum and walks to the door, holding it open while looking at me, my invitation to leave.

If there's one thing the sun has always been good at, it's being too early. One day James will know why this couldn't have happened now.

------------------------------------------------------

The door closed behind Regulus, and I rolled my eyes at his absence, ever our mother. I walked back to the bed and set the letters down on it. All next to each other in a line. Remus came to peer over the letters by my side. We both stood and looked at them, all addressed but none written.

After our silence was presumed over, I dropped to my knees with a groan and put my face into the comforter.

“While priding myself in my mind reading abilities, I would like to know what's wrong with you” He said, still standing above me but slowly moving to kneel on the ground next to me.

It took him a long while, every time he moved a bone would crack and he tried hard to keep the groans and winces silent. He failed. When he was finally sitting on the ground, I turned my head so it was still laying on the bed but I was now looking at him.

“Welcome down, how was the trip?”

“Achey”

“You do quite the job of hiding it”

He spared me a laugh before leaning over to take the letters himself. Remus was always good at coming up with more words to say. It could’ve been the number of books he read or the amount of time he never had talking to people. Whatever has caused it he was always the one carrying a conversation.

In this instance I was completely ready for him to grab my quill and start writing what needed to be written. So, it took me by surprise when he just set them back down.

I raised an eye at him, and he shook his head.

“This is too big for me”

“You're the biggest out of us, this is hardly a sight”

The scowl earned from the man should've been put into a contest for the most times I had pissed Remus off. Even still I smiled at the reaction and raised myself on my elbows.

“I don't know what to say to them, they don't even know the extent of it. Not nearly as much as you do.”

I swear I meant to say the others too, not just Remus. But when it actually came out all I could manage was his name. In truth it wasn't a lie, Remus knew the most. He had talked to Regulus more than the others, he knew more about everything that had gone on in that house, and he knew just as well as I did that if I didn't write anything to the girls they'd be pissed when term came back around. But he continued to give me what I wanted.

“Don't write, they'll understand. Regulus didn't write to his friends”

I laid back down onto the bed, the stars above the regulus’ bedpost in the positions of spring constellations.

“He doesn't have friends like that moony, he's all sad and so are his friends.”

I don't know if he has friends, maybe he does, wouldn't put it past him to not tell me. But from the people I've seen him interact with, they're sad, and look like him. Wanna be death eaters if you were to ask me.

Remus laid down with me as the wind picked up, the curtains blowing into the room.

“At least, one of you gets to be happy.”

Being the eldest black brother and the coolest person I know, it's easy to interpret things wrong. Oftentimes I don't think enough or regard common sense, I can admit that much. And so, while I'm admitting things I'm going to say that I'm not too sure I want the happy one to be me. I'm not done saving my baby brother, I hope I'm never done.

He can slam all the doors he wants, yell and scream and ignore every single person. All that as long as I know that he's not being hurt anymore.