Tally Marks
When Remus first boarded the train at the ripe age of eleven, it seemed like everyone knew each other. They didn’t, of course, but Remus had never seen that many kids his age gathered in one place before. His small home out in the Welsh countryside had done very little for his social skills. Every compartment had its doors shut, full of chatty first years, bubbly and spirited.
Remus had been running a bit late, his mother having to double back for her scarf. He barely got on the train in time and all too soon it began to move. He hadn’t even found a seat yet. He was left stranded in the middle of the hallway, trunk in one hand and ticket in the other, deciding right then and there that Hogwarts might just be worse than home. At least at home he was alone because he had to be- and, here… well. Remus looked around at all the closed doors, the simple truth hitting him in the face like a brick. Here, he was alone because nobody wanted to sit with him.
“Hey!”
The voice had been bright and all too warm for Remus’s current mood, like an unwelcome sip of hot chocolate. He turned, ready to cuss out or potentially punch the bastard bold enough to interrupt his class-a sulk, and found himself face to face with Sirius Black instead.
He was younger then, his hair short but no less perfectly styled. His uniform was done up lazily, tie a little too loose, yet he managed to make it look cool. Effortless. There was a glimmer in his eyes that Remus didn’t quite know what to do with and a barely healed split on his lip.
It was the cut that Remus focused on, staring at it intently. There was a brief second, really, very brief- when Remus wondered if this boy understood. If he struggled with the same little issue Remus did. The idea was thrown out immediately- the headmaster wouldn’t let two werewolves into the school. Just the one had taken enough convincing. And yet that small cut, just starting to scar, caught in his head. He would learn later, of course, that cut was just a product of living with Walburga. Who needed to be a werewolf when you had a shitty mother?
“Hey.” Remus tucked his ticket into his pocket, crossing his arms. He eyed the other boy suspiciously. “What do you want?”
The boy flashed him an easy grin, first of many, and jerked his head back the way he came. “Me and some mates got a compartment back that way. You can join us, if you like.”
Remus didn't want pity, especially not from him. “I’ll manage, thanks.”
“I’m not sure there are any other compartments open, is the thing. Come on. We don’t bite.”
I do, Remus thought, but said nothing. The other boy looked him up and down. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Lupin. Remus Lupin.”
The boy’s eyes positively lit up. “Lupin? Really? You’re our roommate. Crazy luck, right? God, when James hears about this…”
Remus just stared at him, not sure what to do with so much energy. So much light.
The boy waved his hand. “I’m Sirius.” (Remus only later noticed he didn’t give his last name.) “Now you absolutely must come sit with us. It’s mandatory, basically.” His accent was posh but also not - like he was trying hard to cover it, bury it under attitude and loose ties.
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
The boy- Sirius- nodded sagely. “Oh, it is. Trust me. Come on, Peter’s brought a load of chocolate.”
Oh. Well. He did like chocolate. Sirius tugged on Remus’s arm. Begrudgingly, and for the first of many times, Remus let Sirius Black drag him away.
That was 6 years ago. Now, Sirius and Remus sit on opposite ends of the table during meal times. Now, Sirius and Remus don’t look at eachother in the halls. Now, Sirius and Remus haven’t talked in two weeks.
He tried, once. Sirius was sitting at the common room table alone, bent over his homework. Remus had paused, standing just behind him on his way through. He’d taken a steadying breath, and Sirius had turned in his chair to look at him, eyes going wide. Saying nothing.
Remus had a whole thing prepared, had a speech with sections and headings and bullet points- and it all went to hell the second their eyes met. Because suddenly he was back on that train, standing in the corridor, desperately aching for someone to trust. But this time Sirius hadn’t taken his arm and led him to safer things. This time Sirius had pushed him through the fucking window.
So he’d felt his eyes harden, felt his face set, and turned away with a scoff. He walked out stoney and cold, leaving Sirius to his transfiguration.
He hadn’t tried again after that.
But- Sirius isn’t eating. And Remus doesn’t care, really, he doesn’t, but he can’t remember the last time he saw Sirius take a single bite of food. Which can’t be good, especially since Quidditch season is far from over.
He tells Peter one night in hushed tones tucked under covers. “Can you just- can you just check to see if he’s eating?”
Peter gives him a look. “Remus…”
Remus rolls his eyes. “Poison the food, if you must. I’d prefer it if you did, actually. Just make sure he eats it.”
Peter sighs and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, ok.”
But the next day at breakfast Sirius leaves his full plate on the table, walking out not even halfway through. The same thing happens at lunch. And for some reason, that’s what does it. Sirius stands up and walks out head down and face obscured, a platter of sandwiches going untouched in front of him- and Remus just snaps. He grits his teeth and slams his hands down on the table, pushing himself to his feet and stalking after Sirius.
“Moony-” James sends him a concerned look that Remus pointedly ignores.
He follows Sirius into the hallway and around a few corners, waiting until they’re alone. “Sirius!”
At his name, Sirius freezes, every muscle tensing. Remus can see it, the hesitation, as he turns. Remus takes a step forward and Sirius flinches. Remus finds himself not caring.
“You don’t get to do this. You don’t.”
“I- what?”
“Go back in there and eat something.”
And now Sirius looks truly confused, staring at him in bewilderment. “What?”
Remus can’t control his temper. He never could, really. “I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know why you’re doing it. I don’t care. But you’re- you’re not allowed to fuck up my life and then not even live yours.”
Sirius fully turns to face him, and god- his eyes. Remus chokes on whatever he was going to say and opts to stay silent. “You’re talking to me?”
“No.”
“Right, well-”
But now that he’s started, he can’t stop, and all the words Remus has pent up these last few weeks start to pour out of him. “You wanna know something really fucked up?” Sirius just swallows, and Remus presses on. “When I found out someone told Snape, I looked at Peter first. Then James. James , Sirius. I thought fucking James Potter would betray me before you would. That’s how much- that’s how much I-” He cuts himself off with a bitter chuckle. God, sometimes he forgets how much he hates himself. Each reminder is a knife to the chest.
Sirius shifts, and Remus can’t look at him. “Moony, I’m so sorry.”
Remus just shakes his head, more sad than angry now. “That’s still not my name.”
“Remus. Please.”
“Why?” And then he does look at Sirius, fighting back the cascading waves of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “Why would you fucking do that, Sirius?”
A tear slips over Sirius's cheek, and he swipes at it quickly. Not quite quick enough, though- Remus still sees. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Why you ruined my life?”
“My parents showed up and I… I don’t know. Pretty much blacked out. I ran into Snape and I was just so angry-” He shakes his head, letting out a breath. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Course you weren't.”
“I didn’t mean to. Remus, I’m so sorry. ”
Remus can’t even begin to respond to that, so he doesn’t. “Regulus knows, by the way.” He keeps his tone bitter and accusatory, even if it isn’t Sirius’s fault. At the very least he wants him to feel like it is.
Sirius’s eyes flash, head snapping up. “What?” Remus just nods, staring at him. Sirius takes a step forward. “I didn’t tell him, I swear to god- you have to believe me. I wouldn’t- I didn’t tell him.”
Remus rolls his eyes, suddenly itching to be out of Sirius’s sight. “I know. I think he figured it out for himself, actually.”
“Of course he did.”
There’s another awkward silence, stretching on until Remus thinks he might just have to kill himself. Sirius is the first to break it, thankfully. “I’m sorry.” He repeats, like there’s nothing else to say. Maybe there isn’t. It makes no difference- Remus wants to tear the words from his throat anyway.
“Not enough.”
“I’ll eat.”
Remus scoffs, turning on his heels. “I hope you choke.”
---
“I have a surprise.”
Regulus turns at the sound of James' voice, looking up from his cauldron. “What are you doing here? I thought we weren't going to meet today.”
James raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”
Regulus looks back at the potion. It’s a murky burgundy color and he needs to get it to a bright orange by the end of the day. “I needed to add something to the potion. How’d you know I was here?”
“What, you don’t want to see me?” James flashes him that awful grin and moves forward, reaching into his pocket. He carefully pulls out something square and wrapped in his handkerchief, handling it gently. “It’s just bread pudding. I realized I haven’t bought any in a while.”
James smiles softly, glancing over Regulus’s shoulder at the potion. “Is it supposed to be that color?”
Regulus turns to look, groaning when he finds a vat of dark green slop. “No. You distracted me.”
“What’s this for?”
“It’s to block the muscles from the magical core.”
James let out a breath, shoulders sagging. “Right.”
“It’s temporary, don’t worry. But- I don’t know what else to do, James. If he’s still getting weaker while his muscles are staying the same…” Regulus shakes his head. “Then we aren’t killing the virus, we’re just slowing it down. Redirecting it.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” James runs a hand through his curls. Regulus frowns.
“How soon is Easter break?”
“Two weeks.”
“Alright, then we have two weeks to remake this.” Regulus vanishes the potion with a simple flick of his wand. “How’s… how’s Lupin?”
James’s face twists. “...struggling, I think. I mean, obviously. I’m not sure… I mean, I don’t know how to help him.”
“Have you talked to Sirius?”
“No.”
“You’re still angry, then?”
“Yes.”
“Mm.” Regulus watches him carefully. “Are you sleeping?”
At that, James looks up. “Hm? Oh. Right. Yeah. Yeah, I’m sleeping.”
Regulus tsks. “You’re a terrible liar.”
James frowns, indignant. “No, I’m not.”
“To me, you’re shit.”
James waves a hand. “Yes, but that’s you. That doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
James circles him in his arms and Regulus shivers, warm. “I could never lie to you.”
Regulus hums. “We’re going to make you some sleep potions. Right now.”
James makes an unintelligible sound and buries his face in Reg’s hair. Regulus smacks him on his chest lightly. “Did you just sniff me, Potter?”
“You smell good.” James hugs him tighter. Regulus bites back a smile.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
Regulus lets himself be held for another second. Just the one, he tells himself. That’s all he gets. And all too soon he forces himself to push James back, turning to the table. “Can you get me some lavender?”
James grumbles but does as he’s told. “What if you visit me for Easter?”
Regulus shakes his head. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, and each succession only succeeds in making him more miserable.
“James.”
“What if I meet you somewhere, and it’s just the two of us?”
“James.”
“I just want to see you.”
“I can’t. You know that. Stop asking.”
James sets a sprig of lavender down in front of Regulus. “I need to make sure they aren’t hurting you. That's all. In a park or something, Reg, just ten minutes. I only need ten minutes.”
“I’m going to be fine, James. You know it’s too dangerous.”
“Fuck that.” James shakes his head, angry, and Regulus doesn't know how to help. This isn’t something he can compromise on.
“I’ll find you, alright? I’ll find you on the first day back, as soon as I can. It’s just two weeks. I’ve lived in that house for 16 years.” Regulus pulls the leaves off the stalk of lavender, dropping them in the pot.
James huffs, but nods. “Fine. And you’re sure no letters-”
“No letters.”
“Ok.” James takes a deep breath, turning his back on the potion. “Ok, no letters.”
Regulus stirs carefully, deciding to change the subject. “How’s it going to go? With Lupin and Sirius for Easter?”
“I don’t know.” James answers honestly. “I haven’t actually seen them interact since… since it happened.”
Regulus bites his lip. “That’ll be interesting, at least.”
James cocks his head. “What are you doing for break, then?”
“A lot of family dinners, probably.”
“Sirius told me about those.”
“I imagine they haven’t changed much.”
“Reg?”
The tone in his voice makes Regulus go still. “Yeah?”
“Have you ever met Voldemort?”
It’s such an abrupt transition that Regulus has to scramble to find words. It takes him a minute. “...Yes.”
He can feel James’s eyes on him. He wonders what’s going to happen next, how long it’ll take James to ask what he really wants to know.
“Have you… spoken with him?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Regulus, please.”
Regulus sighs, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Yes. The Dark Lord and I have spoken.” He hates this conversation, hates how it makes his chest feel, hates how James is looking at him.
“Why would you call him that?” James takes a step forward.
“What do you mean?”
“Why would you call him the 'Dark Lord?'”
Regulus grabs some glass vials from the bottom shelf of the bench, uncorking them one by one. “James-”
“Voldemort. Just say Voldemort. When you call him that, it sounds like- it sounds like you’re one of them.”
Regulus turns, already drowning. “I am. I am, James. I am one of them. Or have you forgotten who my parents are? Who my family is?”
“Don’t say that, Reg. Really, don’t say that, because I can’t… I can’t handle that right now.”
Regulus thinks about his forearm, bare but not for much longer. He thinks about his Mother’s fury, sharp and pointed. He thinks about the Dark Lord’s parseltongue. He thinks about the snake waiting patiently below, in the bowels of the castle.
“I can’t be anyone else, James.” He says softly. “I lost that choice the second Sirius left for yours.”
James’s eyes widen slightly. “That’s not true.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Regulus pours another vial, capping it. The room smells like lavender, curling around their heads in purple clouds.
“Fine. Fine. Ok.” James runs a hand over his face, helping Regulus cap the last few vials. “Just-”
Regulus takes a shuddering breath, interrupting him. He conjures a sack. “Your father’s potion will be ready by break.”
“Reg-”
Regulus shoves the bag of sleep potions into James’s chest. “Get some sleep.”
When the door closes behind him, Regulus has to fight to keep the waters at bay.
---
“Can I talk to you?”
Regulus looks up, startled. He’s in the library, bent over a book on dark curses that he had to get from the restricted section. He’s been alone for the past thirty minutes- so when someone interrupts him it comes as a bit of a surprise.
He knows who it is before he looks, of course. Still, Sirius’s face always feels like a punch to the gut. His eyes are wide and hopeful, and Regulus has to steel himself against his gaze. “No.”
Sirius takes another step. “Please, Reg.”
“No.” He envisions James’ tear streaked face.
“Please. It’s… it’s about Remus.”
And, well, Regulus wasn’t expecting that, especially considering recent events. “You get five minutes.”
Sirius looks around, letting out a breath. “Can we go somewhere else?”
Regulus rolls his eyes and stands up, moving past Sirius to wait in the corridor. When he reaches the hallway and turns around, Sirius clears his throat.
“I know you know. About Remus, I mean.”
Regulus blinks. Oh. Sirius knew too, then. He’d assumed James did, but he wasn’t sure about the others. Did it have something to do with what happened between Lupin and Sirius? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do. Can we just- can we just talk about this?” Sirius looks nervous, Regulus realizes. Scared.
“You’re going to have to remind me what it is we’re talking about.”
“Remus’s… problem. I know you know.”
“Oh, you mean him being a werewolf?”
Sirius moves forward instantly, glancing around. “Don’t- don’t say it out loud. Not here.”
“Oh, my mistake. I thought you wanted to talk about it.”
“I do, I just- ugh.” Sirius groans in frustration, tipping his head back. “You can’t tell anyone. Ever.”
Regulus wasn’t going to, but he’s curious now. Wonders how far he can go with this. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“No one can know.”
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous. For him.”
“And you care… why?”
Sirius blinks. “Because he’s my frie-” He cuts himself off with a sharp shake of his head.
Regulus smirks. “From what I can tell, that’s not entirely true anymore.”
“How do you…”
“It’s not exactly a secret, is it? You two don’t seem to be getting on these days.”
Sirius meets his eyes, and all Regulus can find is fire. Fire and shame. “Please, Reg.” He says, and his voice cracks. “Please. No one else can know.”
And suddenly Regulus understands. He gets it now. He tips his head to the side, studying Sirius. “You told someone,” He whispers softly, cruelly. “That's what it was. That’s what happened, isn’t it?” He’s filled with a simmering and burning resentment, cold and dangerous. No wonder James was such a wreck. No wonder Lupin looked so devastatingly terrified when Regulus figured out his secret.
Sirius goes white. Regulus grins, sharp and pointy. “Oh, Sirius, and here I thought Gryfindors were supposed to be loyal.”
“Shut up.”
Regulus stalks forward. “Who’d you tell, Sirius? Who was worth betraying him for?”
“I said shut up.”
But Regulus’s got him between his teeth now, and wants nothing more than to bite down. “Hm, lets see. This must’ve been after our parents' visit, wasn’t it?” Regulus remembers what James said, face buried in his shoulder. Shaking.
“They are not my parents.” Sirius’s voice is trembling now, with anger and fear alike.
Regulus stops short, smirk falling. He glares at him. “You’re so weak, Sirius. Such a coward.” Sirius's shoved that word down his throat his whole life. It feels good to spit it back out.
“You don’t want to talk about being a coward.”
“Yes, I do.” He’s angry for himself, angry for James, hell, he’s angry for bloody Remus Lupin. He takes another step forward. “You did this, all this, just because you couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle being a Black. I live with them. I fucking live with them and then they show up for one day and have one bloody conversation and you what? Self implode? Ruin someone else's life because you can’t handle your own? No wonder Lupin hates you. You're weak, Sirius.”
Sirius takes a sharp breath. “As if you’ve ever suffered like I have. You’re the perfect son, the Black heir. You’re all they’ve ever wanted. You’re all I couldn’t be. You have no idea-”
“I have every idea.” Regulus hisses. “You got out, Sirius. I’m still there.” Sirius just scoffs and Regulus narrows his eyes, vengeful. “You see it, don’t you? The similarities? You say you aren’t their son but clearly that’s not right. You’re exactly like them. How fucking ironic.” Sirius takes a step back, and Regulus knows he’s found the chink in his carefully crafted armor. “They’d be so proud.”
Sirius’s lips part, face whitening. “Stop.”
Regulus tips his head, smirking. “You’ve always had her eyes.”
Something in Sirius’s face snaps, the air around them crackling with magic. Both of them- Regulus and Sirius- are fairly good at controlling themselves, except when it came to each other. Sometimes, back in Grimmauld Place, mirrors and paintings would shatter when they argued. Their shouts sent vases flying off shelves. “It makes no difference, though, does it?” Sirius spits. “I’m at James’s now. You’re alone and missing your shield. No one’s there to rescue you anymore, Reggie. It looks like you’re gonna have to learn to hold your own for fucking once.”
“What?”
“It was never worth it. I see that now. All those hits I took for you. All those curses. I can’t even count all the times I protected you- and it left me with nothing but a traitorous brother and this.” Sirius pulls up his shirt, revealing the dark scar cutting across his side. Regulus refuses to look at it. He’s pictured it in his head so many times there’s no need to see the real thing. Sirius lets his shirt drop. “It’s like I said. I’m done.”
Regulus can feel his magic thrumming through his veins into his fingertips. He can’t breathe through the water filling his lungs. “Do you really want to compare scars, Sirius?”
He can't think, reaching blindly for his left sleeve, fingers finding the edge of the pressed fabric. He pulls it up past his shoulder, watching with a burning satisfaction as Sirius’s face falls.
“W-What are those?”
Everything’s out of him now, all fear and sadness and water flushing from his system with each word Sirius says. Only a frigid, cutting rage remains, echoingly hollow within him. “These are my reminders.” Regulus hisses, throwing each word like a knife. He knows how much they'll hurt. Sirius doesn’t take his eyes off Regulus’s shoulder, every inch of his body frozen. “You think you ever fucking protected me, do you? You think she didn’t notice? Honestly, brother, you’re smarter than that.”
He thinks of years and years in the kitchen, Walburga pulling out her favorite knife as silent tears rolled down little Regulus’s cheeks. “She knew. Every time you’d take a curse or a hit when it was meant for me, she knew.” He soothes his shoulder with his palm, gently massaging the scars on his arm. They ache, sometimes. Still. They’re small yet sharp, raised and white. Little parallel lines, neatly organized and covering his shoulder. Clustered in groups of five.
“Are those-”
“Tally marks.”
Sirius makes a sound like a wounded dog, raising a shaky hand to cover his mouth. There’s a greenish quality to his face, like he’s about to be sick. “I didn’t- I didn’t know-”
“Of course you didn’t. She would never have allowed that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Reg? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
Regulus laughs, bitter and quiet. “How do you think I knew what curse to use on Lupin at the beginning of the year? She taught me everything I know about silencing charms.”
“Why- why would she-” Sirius is trembling now, from head to toe, all of him shaking visibly. Regulus almost feels bad for him. Almost.
“She said since I let myself be protected by a muggle-sympathizer, I deserved a muggle punishment. It was weak, she said. Letting you take the fall. And when I tried to stop you… that was worse.” He shakes his head. “I think it was to punish you as well. You put so much of yourself into making sure I was ok. She thought it was funny, I guess. Every time you tried to help you were only hurting me more.”
Sirius wraps his arms around himself like he’s afraid he’s going to shatter. Like he’s trying to keep all his pieces together. “So all this time…”
“You may not be able to count the number of times you protected me, but I can.” Regulus traces his shoulder with his fingers lightly. “I can count every single one.”
Sirius shakes his head, backing up. “I can’t- I can’t do this. I can’t.”
Regulus rolls down his sleeve and watches him sadly, all the fight slowly starting to seep out of him. Sirius takes gasping breaths, obviously struggling. “I. Fuck. Reg. I- I can’t-” He’s still backing up, still shaking his head.
A twinge of regret twists Regulus’s stomach. He ignores it- crossing his arms over his chest. Protecting himself. “Sirius.”
Sirius looks up sharply at his name, pupils dilated. The fear in his eyes is painful, cutting to Regulus's core. Regulus does his best to grapple with his words as they coil and twist around his throat. “I- it-" He takes a deep breath. "You didn’t know.” It's not forgiveness, it's not an alleviation of blame. It's just the truth.
They stare at each other, a thousand things passing between them. Sirius doesn’t nod, doesn’t acknowledge him in any way, just stares. When he turns to go, his shoulders shake.
Regulus barely makes it to the bathroom before he lets himself break down.