Chapter 10
Regulus’s hand is steady as he holds out his wand, levitating the potion over his left arm. The Dark Mark lies branded in his forearm like a manacle, the world's ugliest tattoo that he can never be rid of. Until now.
Without hesitation, Regulus releases his spell, allowing the potion to splash onto the mark. For a moment, nothing happens and Regulus feels a flash of disappointment. Then, a burning pain lances through his arm and Regulus latches onto a nearby tabletop with his right hand. The burning continues and Regulus remembers what James had said about the potion being like a corrosive acid.
Despite feeling like an iron rod that was stuck in the fire is now being pressed onto his arm, Regulus forces himself to look down and is shocked to see the potion literally burning through the Dark Mark. Already half of it is burned away, the head of the snake gone and part of the skull beginning to disintegrate.
Another burst of pain goes through his arm and Regulus is reminded of when he was first given the mark. With Voldemort’s wand digging into his arm the pain had been unbearable and everlasting. It had taken everything he had not to scream.
Now, with the mark disappearing before his eyes, the pain is suddenly an afterthought. All he can think about is the rush of relief and joy he feels. The final thing tying him to the boy his parents thought he was is finally gone, burned off his skin.
There’s one last weak flash of pain and then it’s over, leaving behind only red, tender skin and a time of his life he would like to forget, thank you very much.
He’s still staring down at his mark-free arm when there’s a quiet knock on the door.
“Hey Reg, it’s just me. Can I come in?” Regulus recognizes James’s voice and smiles to himself.
“Yeah, come in. Door’s unlocked.”
James opens the door slowly, and steps into the potions lab, closing the door behind him carefully.
“Have you used the potion yet?” He asks quietly.
Regulus nods and holds out his arms, allowing a smile to spread across his face. James looks up and Regulus sees the older boy grinning at him.
Regulus feels his face warm up and looks back down to hide his blush.
“I guess your dads potion worked after all,” Regulus finally says.
“I guess it did. I hope it didn’t hurt too much.” Regulus sees James’s concerned glance at the redness of his skin and drops his arm back to his side.
“It wasn’t too bad. And it’s totally fine now.” At James’s skeptical look, he adds, “I promise.”
“If you say so.”
“What do you want, James?” Regulus says with a sigh.
“I wanted to see how you were doing.” Regulus is surprised but pleased by the sincerity in his voice.
“I’m good, seriously. This is… this potion is the greatest gift you could’ve given me. I don’t even know how to repay you for this, I-,” Regulus cuts himself off, disappointed in himself for losing his composure.
“Hey, you don’t have to repay me for anything, okay?”James says softly. “Besides, it seems wrong for you to pay me back when you brewed most of the potion yourself, eh?” James grins and the room feels lighter again.
“But, uhhh, there is something else I came down here to tell you,” James says, rubbing the back of his neck.
Regulus feels his stomach drop. “Is something wrong?” He says apprehensively.
“No, no everything’s fine,” James rushes to reassure him. “It’s just that we have guests upstairs.”
“What guests?” Regulus asks hesitantly.
“Dumbledore and like half the order,” James says bitterly. “Kingsley, Alice, Marlene, Fabian, and Gideon.”
Regulus knows his own personal issues with the Headmaster but the bitterness in James’s voice is surprising. “I thought you liked seeing the Order?”
“I do!” James exclaims. “It’s just, I told Dumbledore I didn’t want my parents house to be used as a headquarters of any sort for the Order and yet he shows up here without asking to brief us on a mission or something. It’s fine, forget I said anything. I should be grateful I still have the house to live in.”
“There is a lot wrong with everything you just said but apparently Dumbledore is in your kitchen right now so how about we go upstairs, you pretend you’re happy he’s here, I pretend I haven’t just burned the Dark Mark off my skin with a potion no one knows about, and then we go kick some Death Eaters’s ass, ok?”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” James says and Regulus is pleased to see a smile back on his face.
When they enter the kitchen, Sirius looks up and makes eye contact with Regulus. His brother knew Regulus was brewing the potion that morning and was preparing to remove the mark but they hadn’t had a chance to talk before Dumbledore showed up. Sirius sends him a questioning look and taps his own left arm and Regulus gives him a small smile and nod. Sirius’s face lights up.
Focusing back on the rest of the people in the room, Regulus notices James staring at Dumbledore.
“What can I do for you, Headmaster?” James says, a smile is plastered on his face, a painful replication of his normally joyful grins.
“I’m afraid the answer is not pleasant, my dear boy. I truly hate to ask this of you, but desperate times,” Dumbledore begins.
“With all due respect, Headmaster, just tell us what we need to do. I’m assuming some sort of mission or raid?” Sirius interrupts, raising an eyebrow.
“Unfortunately you are correct. We predict that the Death Eaters will be conducting a raid on a fairly secluded muggle factory. The raid will occur sometime tonight so you should be in position by the time all the muggles are gone. All of you, except Regulus, will be on the mission as well as Lily and Minerva who will be meeting you at the factory,” Dumbledore says finally.
“Excuse me?” Regulus raises an eyebrow. “What reason could you possibly have for not letting me go on the mission? More people will better the odds and you know it.”
“You know why you can’t be allowed outside the wards,” Dumbledore says with a pointed look.
“And I told you, I took care of it. It’s gone. Let me on the mission,” Regulus says, not taking no for an answer.
Dumbeldore appears shocked while the rest of the Order looks on, confused.
“What do you mean it’s gone? My dear boy, if you have a way to remove the Dark Mark then it is vital you share it with us.” At Dumbledore’s words, Kingsley, Alice, and the Prewetts look at Regulus with apprehension and Regulus hates the Headmaster a little bit more for revealing this information to so many people.
“That’s none of your business, Headmaster. What matters is that Voldemort has no way to control or track me and I would be an asset in the field,” Regulus says coldly and he sees James’s relieved look when he doesn’t disclose the potion’s existence.
“I see that you will not be moved. Very well, you will go on the mission with the rest of them. Good luck to you all.”
– - – - –
The Order members are spread out across the field in a wide berth of the factory. The last of the muggles has finally left, trekking home after what Sirius is sure was a grueling day of work. He doesn’t quite know why the Death Eaters didn’t decide to carry out a raid in the middle of their workday—he knows they wouldn’t be opposed to a few muggle casualties—but he’s admittedly grateful all the same.
He’s crouched down with Remus, waiting for the signal indicating approaching Death Eaters. Truthfully, Sirius doesn’t ever fear for himself on a mission like this: he’s always scared for Remus. As a so-called ‘dark’ creature (Sirius is vehemently opposed to the label), the likelihood of Remus being captured or tortured is much higher than for any other Order member.
“Hey,” Remus murmurs, like he can hear Sirius’s thoughts. “We’re going to be fine. I’m going to be fine. I’ll be careful.”
Sirius feels some of the tension drain out of his shoulders at Remus’s assurance. “I know,” he says. “But still. Something feels off about tonight.”
Remus tips his head sideways in amusement. “Three years and I’m just now learning you’re superstitious. New moon get to you?”
Sirius wrinkles his nose. “Okay, wolf-boy.”
Laughing quietly, Remus bumps him with his shoulder. “I was thinking,” Remus says, “we should go out to dinner sometime. Just the two of us. Like old times.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Sirius arches a brow haughtily.
“Maybe so,” Remus grins. “Guess you’ll have to wait until after the mission to find out.”
Almost as if Remus’s words kickstarted the universe into action, a bright orange flare shoots up from the other side of the clearing. Death Eaters seem to pour in from all directions—Sirius counts around fifteen before spurring himself into motion, Remus close behind.
The fighting is instantaneous, curses flying in all directions. Sirius falls into an all-too familiar pattern of dodging and weaving as he simultaneously attacks whoever’s nearest. As his back is turned, he’s hit by expelliarmus: it’s a fairly harmless spell, but his wand gets knocked out of his hand. Diving out of the way to avoid a flaying curse, Sirius sees it land directly in front of Travers.
Travers, like the brute stoops to pick up the wand. He makes direct eye contact with Sirius—he can see the cogs turning in Travers’s brain as he moves to snap Sirius’s wand.
There are three facts about Sirius’s wand that exist in harmony.
1: Sirius’s wand is a family heirloom.
2: Sirius hates his family.
3: Sirius does not hate his Uncle Alphard, who’s wand it was and who later went on to bequeath Sirius his entire estate when he passed in Sirius’s fourth year.
Sirius’s body moves before his brain can rationalize it. His fist moves in a perfect arc as he lurches through the air, colliding with a firm crack on Travers’s jaw.
The Death Eater staggers backwards, and Sirius takes his disorientation as a chance to snatch back his wand and shoot him with a stinging hex in the chest for good measure.
He throws himself back into the fight with renewed vigor—at times it scares him how comfortable he is in direct combat, but he tries not to dwell on it for very long. He isn’t going to complain about instincts that keep him alive, especially not as they’re actively fighting a war.
He dodges a killing curse from Rodolphus Lestrange, stumbling a bit as he does so. His balance must be off.
Sirius turns to see the curse just as it bounces off Marlene’s shield charm. The odds of it happening are infinitesimally low, but Sirius swears he can feel it in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it’s his utter cynicism—the worst possible outcome will always occur—but Sirius is wholly unsurprised.
Instead of dissolving into the shield like curses normally do, it shoots straight back at Lestrange. Sirius watches as it catches him square in the chest.
The first time Sirius killed someone, in a battle two months ago, the Death Eater staggered.
Lestrange doesn’t stagger. He falls to the ground as if he’s fainted—his eyes are open, unseeing, staring straight up at the night sky.
Sirius meets Marlene’s wild eyes, pupils dilated. She looks almost frenzied, but her body is so still it’s almost unearthly. It’s dangerous to be perfectly still in the middle of a battle, but neither one of them moves. Sirius knows she’s never killed anyone before.
Sirius opens his mouth. “Marlene, it wasn’t your faul–”
Marlene cuts him off with a cry of horror, and Sirius whirls around to see Remus fall at Travers’s feet.
Abandoning Marlene, Sirius launches himself at Travers for the second time. He hits him with the nastiest burning curse he can muster, shoving him away from Remus and diverting his attention directly on the limp body in front of him.
It’s bad.
Even Sirius, wholly untrained in the arts of healing, can tell. There’s a gaping wound through Remus’s stomach that isn’t closing, even with Remus’s accelerated healing. His healing doesn’t work on dark magic, but what other kind of spell would a Death Eater use? I should have socked Travers harder, he thinks, almost hysterically.
“Remus,” he says, panicking, “Remus–”
“Sirius,” Remus chokes out. His teeth are tinged with red. Blood soaks his shirt and forms a small puddle beneath him. Sirius can smell it, and he knows it’s staining his knees crimson as he kneels next to Remus.
Lily and Gideon Prewett appear next to Sirius, and he notices Lily’s sharp intake of breath. She’s the best healer the Order has—if she’s horrified by Remus’s injuries, Sirius knows it can’t be good.
“Get him to the manor,” Gideon says. “I’ll stay here.”
Lily nods sharply, hands moving deftly to apply salves and potions to the area around the wound. “Remus, I’m going to apparate you and Sirius back to the manor. I know it’s going to hurt, but you have to stay conscious for me, alright?”
Remus nods, but it’s weak. Sirius squeezes his hand gently, but Remus doesn’t look over. His eyes are glassy. Pure, unbridled terror is pumping through Sirius’s veins. Lily grabs onto his wrist, another hand clamping down onto Remus’s forearm, and they disapparate back to the manor.
– - – - –
Sirius jolts awake from his position on the floor, leaning against the sofa. He turns to see Remus staring at him from his position across the sofa, bandages covering the entirety of his upper body.
Sirius breathes out a sigh of relief, sending a silent prayer of thanks to whichever entity was listening. He hadn’t gone to sleep until Lily had managed to stabilize Remus, but he had been prepared to jump into action had anything occurred.
“Good morning,” Remus says softly, his fingers twitching.
Sirius wants nothing more than to tackle him with a hug, but if seven years of waiting for Remus in the infirmary after a full moon has taught him anything, it’s that that isn’t conducive to his healing.
“Hi,” Sirius breathes out. “Are you okay?”
It’s a stupid question. Remus is very clearly not okay, given the sheer amount of gauze wrapped around his torso.
Remus lets out a huff of laughter. “I’ve been worse.” The unfortunate part is that it’s true—some fulls, especially the ones in their fifth year, were brutal on Remus.
“There was a massive hole in your stomach,” Sirius responds. The words come out harsher than he intended, but he can’t find it in himself to soften them. “There shouldn’t be worse than that.”
“But there is,” Remus reminds him.
Sirius wrinkles his nose at him. “How are you feeling?”
“Like there’s a massive chunk of my stomach missing,” Remus says drily. “Oh, wait.”
Despite himself, Sirius snorts out a laugh. “Nothing serious, then.”
Remus grimaces. “I’m glad it didn’t get me in the chest. That one wouldn’t have been quite as easy to deal with.”
Sirius blinks. “You promised me you’d be safe,” he says.
“I was fighting just like you!” Remus responds, surprising Sirius with the indignation in his tone. “It’s not like I meant to get a chunk of my stomach gouged out.”
“So you thought you should throw yourself into battle without taking the care to be safe?” Sirius demands incredulously.
Remus scoffs. “How the hell is what I did any different from what you do? You dive into battle recklessly every time we’re on a mission without stopping to consider the fact that you might get hurt.”
“But I don’t get hurt!” Sirius retorts. “And I may not be as careful as I should, but I’m not the one who practically has a bounty on his head.”
It’s a low blow.
“I’m sorry,” Sirius says immediately, and Remus’s expression softens. One of the many things Sirius loves about Remus is that he will always, always hear him out even if he’s angry. Sirius doesn’t have the best track record with expressing his emotions healthily, so he and Remus try their best to communicate. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. But you scared the everliving fuck out of me, Remus.”
Remus takes a deep breath. “I know, and I’m sorry. But it’s not fair that you’re acting like I did something wrong when you and I both know it could have happened to anyone else on that battlefield. Sure, maybe I was being careless, but this is war. Nobody’s exactly watching their back when they’re focused on the shitshow in front of them.”
Sirius feels worse. “I should have been there. If I had been with you—”
“Maybe you would have stopped it. Or maybe you wouldn’t have. Or maybe you would have gotten hit instead.” Remus raises an eyebrow at him. “There’s no point in worrying about the what-ifs now. I’m here, I’m alive and I’m going to be okay.” He takes Sirius’s hand, threading their fingers together. “I promise I’ll be more careful next time, but you can’t keep worrying over me like this. Not when you’re doing the exact same thing.”
Sirius squeezes Remus’s hand. “I’ll be more careful too.”