Find Me
Regulus lets his head hit the wall behind him, exhaling softly. He watches as a curl of smoke escapes his parted lips and clouds the air in front of him. It swrils and drifts, punctured and backlit by the moonlight. It’s almost full. He wonders how Lupin’s feeling.
Regulus watches through heavy lids as Pandora reaches out and takes the joint from his fingers.
The five of them are sitting on the roof of the castle, leaning against the astronomy tower tourret. They’d found the tiny access stairway in fourth year and have yet to find a better spot to smoke. It’s cold, yes- but Barty’s cast a warming spell and no one really minds anyway.
“I’m still confused why you didn’t have to see the Dark Lord,” Barty starts, voice puncturing the dark. It’s a bit off-kilter, drifty in a way that's unusual for Barty.
“No need.” Regulus says eventually. “Or no time, I suppose.”
“Hm.” Pandora reaches her hand up, twisting it in a beam of moonlight. “I wonder…”
“Dora?”
“I wonder if we’re safe here.”
Evan blinks at her, drawing his knees up to his chest. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t we be?”
“The snow’s all melted,” Dorcas starts, looking confused. “The roof isn’t slippery anymore.”
Pandora shakes her head. “Not the roof. Hogwarts. I wonder if we’re safe at Hogwarts.”
Regulus, quietly, finds himself asking the same thing. He takes the joint back from Pandora, appreciating the comforting smell of weed. It reminds him of gentle nights, of Hogwarts, of quiet moments all to themselves on slippery roofs. “I don’t think we are,” he whispers softly, half hoping it gets lost in the night.
“Why not?” Evan asks again and Regulus hums.
“The Dark Lord wants Dumbledore, yeah? Narcissa says he’s the only wizard the Dark Lord fears.”
Even in the dark, Regulus can see Evan furrow his brow. “He’d attack a school full of supporters for one man?”
“He attacked Beauxbatons twice. Those aren’t the actions of a man afraid to hurt children.” There’s an edge of bitterness to Dorcas’s voice, one that makes Regulus feel slightly on edge. Careful, he wants to whisper. Hating him can do no good.
“But…” Barty talks for the first time in a little while. “He wouldn’t attack us though, right?”
Regulus realizes the question’s directed at him and after a moment he shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. It feels like that’s where this is headed.”
Pandora nods in agreement. “Beauxbatons, attacks on muggles, he’s amping up. If all he needs is Dumbledore out of the way… now’s the time.”
Evan leans forward, eyes calm. “He’d tell us though, right?”
Barty hisses softly next to him. “I don’t care if he does or doesn’t. I’ll fight beside him either way.”
Pandora cocks her head. “You’d kill people?” There’s no judgment in her tone- just curiosity.
Barty blinks at her. “I would.”
“There’s no way back from that, you know.” Pandora leans back again, staring at the stars. “You can’t undo it.”
“I wouldn’t need to.”
Regulus feels something twist in his gut, remembering a potion laced with white powder. The soft spots on his fingers torn to shreds by his nails, his guilt literally skinning him. He remembers a rat, body rotting somewhere in an alley. He says nothing, bringing the spliff to his lips and inhaling deeply.
They got back from break a day ago, and Regulus still can’t fully get his thoughts in order. He can feel the lingering imprints of Bellatrix’s nails along the ridges of his mind. Pandora is the only one that seems to notice, but that’s probably because she's the only one that knows about Bellatrix’s training. Even so, she says nothing, letting him sort it out for himself.
The weed can’t be helping
“How long do we have?” Dorcas asks.
“Until he attacks? I don’t know.” Pandora points at the sky. “There’s you, Reg.”
Regulus looks up, fixating on his star. He finds it instantly, of course. “Heart of the lion,” he murmurs softly. He can feel Pandora’s eyes on him.
“Will the attack be this year? Next year?” Barty gives Evan the joint the two of them are sharing. Dorcas has her own.
“Maybe both, who knows.” Pandora traces a spiral on the shingles of the roof.
“What can we do?”
“Stay put.” Dorcas answers solemnly. “Stay out of the way. Unless you’re Barty, or Reg, of course. The rest of us, we’ll wait it out.”
“You guys really wouldn’t fight? If it came down to it?” Barty takes a slow drag.
Dorcas looks at him sadly, saying nothing. Evan responds first. “I… would.”
Pandora shakes her head. “I’d rather be in front of a wand than behind it.”
“Cowards.” Barty shakes his head, coughing into his fist.
“Not cowards, Barty.” Dorcas glances at him sideways. “I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t care about blood supremacy. Pandora doesn’t either. The rest of you…”
“I’ll take The Mark as soon as I can- shove it in my father’s face, too. Evan, you should as well. And Reg, I wouldn't be surprised if you don’t already have it.” Barty hands the joint back to Evan, and Regulus notices the way both boys flinch when their fingers brush.
In lue of a response, Regulus just rolls up his sleeve, displaying his bare arm. Barty sighs, disappointed. “Soon, then.”
“You’re insane, Barty.” Dorcas shakes her head, and Barty grins. It’s sharp.
“‘Course I am.”
“You know you can’t, right? Shove The Mark in your father’s face. That won’t work out well for you.”
“I don’t care what he does. He can fuck off.”
Regulus narrows his eyes at him. “Are you just doing this to piss him off? Do you care about the Dark Lord, or his plans?”
Barty raises a brow. “Do you?”
There’s a right answer, somewhere. “I care about what it means.” That was probably not it.
Barty runs a hand through his hair. “So blood supremacy? What it means for muggles?”
“What it means for myself.”
“Well then,” Barty sits back, looking satisfied. “We’re in the same boat.”
Dorcas glaces between them. “How?”
“We’re both in it for our parents.”
Regulus glares at him. “That’s not true.”
“Yeah? So if you quit now, they’d let you off free?”
Regulus says nothing, cold. Unfeeling. That doesn’t stop Barty. “You could pack your bags, right now? Run away? You’re telling me if you wanted to, you could join your traitor brother?”
Regulus is standing before he can think, staring down at him. Nobody moves. The others are watching, but there’s not much he can do. Not much to say. He needs to be somewhere quieter; somewhere with less eyes.
“I have to go,” He says. “I just remembered I have to do something.”
“”Course, Reg.” Dorcas nods and Barty just rolls his eyes.
“Have fun with your ‘ mission’ . Give me that before you go, yeah? No point in wasting it.” He nods to the joint between Regulus’s fingers.
Regulus deftly flicks it off the roof, flipping Barty off before climbing up and over the shingles to the doorway and the access staircase. He moves swiftly, not looking down. After sitting still for so long the sudden movement makes his head swirl, as if the weed randomly jumps up a notch.
He needs to see James again, but he’s not sure he’s ready for that yet. It’s as if there’s an invisible taboo: Regulus tried so hard to bury James he’s tricked himself into avoiding the very thought of him. He just… he just needs a little more time.
So he goes somewhere else instead.
The cold of the Basilisks chamber is entirely different from the cold of Grimmauld Place. This chill is refreshing, comforting. The cold of Grimmauld Place is anything but. Regulus stands in the main chamber for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He’s still slightly high, but it’s fading quickly. He’s never been able to keep anything in his system for very long.
He summons the Basilisk a little while later, casting the blinding curse as gently as he can.
You’re back , she hisses. I told you you’d come back .
Yeah, yeah. How are you?
Bored. The Basilisk does another turn around the chamber. I have no one to talk to when you’re gone.
What about the rats?
They make much better food than conversation.
Ah. Regulus settles down, shifting to get comfortable on the stony ground . What do you do then, when I’m not here ?
Sleep. Think. Not that there’s much to think about. You smell like… smoke. A plant? I’m not sure. I don’t think I’ve smelled that before.
Regulus tips his head back, laughing. Weed. I smell like weed.
Which one?
Regulus shakes his head, still smiling. It’s a muggle thing. It makes you feel funny. We smoke it because it feels good.
Do you still feel funny? You’re acting funny.
Regulus shrugs. A little, probably.
How was your break?
The smile slowly slips off Regulus’s face. …Productive.
You’re scared again. Still. I thought- The Basilisk cuts itself off, slithering closer. I thought you were scared of going home.
Regulus swallows, setting his face. I’m fine.
But now I think it’s something else. The Basilisk’s tongue flickers out.
Why do we always have to have such serious conversations?
What else is there to talk about?
Regulus shakes his head, standing up. The Basilisk follows close behind as he finds his way to Slytherin’s room. He hissed the word and the door opens, letting him in. He’s nearly read through all of Slytherins letters, but not quite. He pulls a new one out of the stack.
Godric,
I apologize for not speaking to you in person. I felt this intentional separation would be good for us- considering our opposing views and the upcoming decision to be made. I wish things were different. I wish I was different. Regardless, you should visit sometime. I may be too proud to change my mind, but not too proud to admit I do miss your company. Saskia misses you too. She asks about you every day. I did mean it when I said I couldn’t associate with you anymore. That won’t change. But there are things we need to discuss in person, and for that, I suppose I must see you. Meet me in the Chamber tomorrow?
Regards,
Salazar
Regulus closes the letter, biting his cheek. Carefully he takes a seat on Slytherins bed, letter tucked neatly in his lap. The Basilisk hisses softly. What did that one say?
It was just… sad, Regulus muses. Did your master and Gryfindor stop seeing each other before he left Hogwarts?
Hm. The Basilisk’s lip curls up, as if it’s not something she wants to think about. I suppose. He stopped coming by, after a while.
Regulus nods. Who’s Saskia?
At that, the Basilisk flinches. It’s slight, barely noticeable, but there. She ducks her head. That’s what my Master used to call me.
Regulus freezes. What?
It was a… name, of sorts. Saskia.
The Basilisk had a name? Regulus sits back, staring at her.
I should’ve asked, he says eventually. If you had a name. That was selfish.
The Basilisk shakes her head. The boy- the other boy- he asked my name. I didn’t give it to him. I don’t know if I would’ve given it to you.
Why not?
A name is an important thing, Little Prince. It determines who you are, and when you give it to others, it determines who you’ll be to them too.
Regulus considers. So because you didn’t give your name to the boy , who were you to him ?
In lue of an answer the Basilisk twists her head, showing him the scar. When she speaks, it comes out as a low hum. Nothing.
Regulus takes a shuddering breath, resisting the urge to comfort her. That would just make things harder for himself later. His name was Tom Riddle, right?
The Basilisk only hesitates a second before answering. That sounds familiar, yes.
He’s Lord Voldemort, by the way. Do you remember me telling you about him?
The Basilisk pauses, twisting her head to face him. I never forget anything. He’s- you’re sure?
Yeah.
The Basilisk says nothing, sinking into herself slightly.
Regulus frowns, uncomfortable with the pity brewing in his stomach. Should I call you that then?
The Basilisk flicks her tongue. If you want. When you want.
What does it mean?
Saskia?
Yeah.
The Basilisk hisses and it almost sounds like a hum. Savior.
Regulus raises his eyebrows. He named you ‘Savior’?
I was supposed to save the wizarding race, one death at a time. The Basilisk shakes her head in a disturbingly human-like gesture.
Oh.
It’s alright, Little Prince. I don’t need your pity. There’s still time.
Regulus looks up. You’re still going to- I mean you haven’t given up? On your… mission?
I am still my Master’s savior. It seems my boy has grown into his power. Perhaps I will follow in his steps one day. She pauses for a moment. Perhaps you will too.
Regulus shifts uncomfortably. You’d- you’d be alright if I called you… that?
Again, like I said- only when you want to. When you feel you need to. I get the sense names held more power in my time than they do in yours.
Regulus stands up, covering his yawn with a hand. The weed has long since worn off and he’s left tired and slightly groggy. I’ll think about it. I need to go to bed.
Don’t think you’ve gotten out of this, Little Prince. We’ll talk more next time you visit.
About what?
What you’re so scared of.
Regulus just shakes his head, moving past the Basilisk and into the chamber. I’ll see you later, Savior.
The Basilisk makes a soft sound from behind him. That’s not the only thing my name means, you know.
Regulus pauses, turning to look at her. Yeah? What else?
She hisses, turning her head to the side. For the first time in a long time, Regulus feels a thrill of fear shoot through him.
Knife.
---
James hasn’t seen Regulus yet. Not really. Aside from quick glances across the Great Hall or blindly passing in the corridors, they haven’t actually met since they got back. Granted, it’s not been very long, only two days- but still. It’s the principle of the matter. Regulus promised he’d find him as soon as they got to school and now… well.
If he won’t come to James, James will just have to go to him.
He slips on the invisibility cloak in the middle of the night on their second day of no contact. He grabs the map and makes his way down to the dungeons, trying to keep quiet but failing miserably. The portraits hiss at him as he passes despite not being able to see him. The paintings have always been able to sense his presence, even when he’s under the cloak.
Once he comes to the door he realizes, stupidly, that he doesn’t know the password. He stares blankly at the knob, considering his next move. Before he attempts to charm the door open, a portrait behind him speaks up.
“Who’s there?”
James starts and turns to see a cranky old man glaring at him from behind a pair of glasses. James swallows and lowers the cloak, revealing just his head. “Um- hello. Do you know the password? I’ve forgotten it.”
“Where’d you come from? You aren’t a Slytherin.”
“I could be!”
“Not in a million years, boy. Why are you invisible? Why are you trying to break in? Should I call for the headmaster?”
“No! No. There’s no need. I- er- need to see someone inside.”
“A secret rendezvous, then?” The man looks gleeful, setting down the newspaper he’s perpetually holding.
James rubs the back of his neck. “Something like that.”
“A young Slytherin girl caught your fancy?” The old man hums. “I do love a forbidden love story.”
“Right. Exactly. So could you please tell me the passcode so I can get in and see …her?”
“Mm. I don’t know. It’s rather exciting watching you struggle.”
“Please? I just need to know that she’s ok. I haven’t seen her since break.”
The old man squints at James, lips twisted. “Hm.”
“I’ll just leave if you don’t. That’d be much more boring, wouldn’t it?”
The old man sighs, grumbling about students and their drama. “Fine. You’re lucky I’m so deprived of entertainment. Passwords’s ‘emerald’. But you better tell me about it when you get back.”
James grins and winks, thanking him and turning back to the door. “Emerald,” he whispers, and as it slides open he pulls the cloak back over his head.
Slytherin’s common room is dark and gloomy, nothing like the warm comfort of Gryfindor tower. The fire in the hearth has been reduced to glowing embers, burning low. The furniture is much less plushy - all smooth velvet armchairs and perfectly stuffed couches and settees. James shivers in the cold.
He finds the dorm fairly easily, opening the door as softly as possible. Crouch and Evan are curled up in their respective beds, drapings wide open. Regulus (or at least who James assumes is Regulus) has his curtains firmly closed.
He steps in softly, staring at his sleeping form. Regulus’s eyelids are dark against his pale cheeks, lips gently parted. His dark curls spill out around his head on the white pillow, the contrast nearly taking James’s breath away. He looks gentle; peaceful. So unbelievably soft.
James resists the urge to crawl right into bed next to him, deciding that’d be a touch too creepy.
Instead he pulls the cloak off his head, keeping it wrapped around his shoulders. He leans down and gently touches Regulus’s shoulder, whispering his name softly. Before he can move, Regulus’s eyes fly open and he’s sitting up in bed, wand seemingly materializing in his hand and pointing directly at James.
James stares at him with wide eyes, taking a step back. “Woah, Reg. Love. It’s just me. It’s ok.”
Regulus squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep breaths. He doesn’t drop his wand. “James.”
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. Can you put the wand down?”
Regulus hesitantly lowers his hand, still watching James carefully. “What- how did you get in? Why are you here? You can’t be here.”
“It’s nice to see you too.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, throwing off his bed covers and standing up. Without looking back he quickly exits the dorm and makes his way down the stairs. After a moment of standing there dumbly, James follows.
He locates Regulus in the common room, waiting for him with crossed arms. James finds it a little difficult to take his somber expression seriously when he’s in pajama pants and his usually perfect hair is just slightly mussed.
“James. You have to leave.”
“You said you’d find me.”
“What?”
“You said you’d find me as soon as possible when you came back. You haven’t.”
“I’ve been busy.”
James scoffs. “Too busy to just pop by and say ‘hi James, yes, I’m alright, how are you’?”
Regulus stays quiet, glaring. James sighs. “I just- I just want to know you’re ok.”
“You can’t just show up in my common room. How did you even get in?”
“The old man in the portrait told me the password.”
Regulus lets out a breath, shaking his head. “Fucking Albert. He keeps doing that.”
“Well. I happen to like Albert. He was very helpful.”
“James.”
James sighs. “Please, Reg. Why didn’t you find me?”
Regulus shakes his head, gripping his arms tighter. James takes a step forward. “Did they hurt you?”
Regulus glances up quickly, eyes burning. “What does it look like?”
But that’s not fair, and James lets out a bitter laugh. “We both know ‘what it looks like’ doesn’t really apply when it comes to you.”
Regulus ducks his head down. “I’m fine.”
“Then why didn’t you find me?”
Regulus frowns, and James really doesn’t like that look. But then hesitantly, almost unwillingly, Regulus takes a step forward. And then another. And then he’s right in front of James, and they’re staring at each other, grey on brown. Something flickers in Regulus’s expression and he ducks forward, wrapping his arms around James’s torso. He buries his face in the junction between James’s neck and shoulders, taking a deep breath that James can feel against his skin.
For a moment, James doesn’t know what to do. Regulus never approaches him first, much less actually hugs him. But he’s warm and small and this is all James has wanted and been denied the past two weeks, so he hugs him back. Warm large arms wrap around Regulus’s body, pulling him in harder.
It feels good- too good to be safe. Too good to be secure. Something this precarious shouldn’t be so easy, but that doesn’t matter. Really, it doesn’t. Because James Potter has never much cared for his own safety, only others’. Only Regulus’. And here, with him in his arms, it’s the closest he can come to ensuring it.
“How are you?” He whispers into Regulus’s hair.
Regulus makes a small sound into his neck. “Tired.”
“I’m sorry I woke you. I had to see you.” Carefully, he guides them until the back of his legs hit the green velvet sofa. Regulus pulls back, carefully extracting himself from James’s arms and settling on one end of the couch. He draws his knees to his chest, staring at the ground. After a moment James sits next to him, resting his head on the pillow. Watching.
“Regulus-”
“I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”
“That’s alright. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”
Regulus lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah.”
“What’d you do? Over break?”
Regulus’s eyes darken slightly, brows pulling together. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“I- read, some.”
“Reg.”
“I learned occlumency. Or, how to actually do it right.”
James lets out a breath. “Oh.” He knows what Walburga does. Sirius told him enough. Sometimes he’d come back after a break looking especially hollow and empty, and James would know his mind was still trying to sort itself out after whatever his mother did to it. Legilimency was a common skill in the Black household, and one utilized often. But if Regulus was learning how to fight it…
“That’s good. That’s really good. Right?”
“...Yes. It will be.”
“Was it hard?” James wants to reach out and touch Regulus again, but he looks too fragile right now. Too small.
Regulus lets out a low bitter huff of laughter. “It was necessary.”
“Right. I don’t know why you Blacks are so smart.” James looks up to find Regulus’s eyes already on him, piercing and perfect.
“James?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“...Yeah?”
And when Regulus speaks, it’s not in a language James recognizes. It’s a soft hiss that seems to slip from him easier than a breath, almost a sigh. It sounds old. Dark. Something straight out of Eden. James goes still, every muscle in his body freezing.
That wasn’t Regulus. That didn’t sound like Regulus. He can’t move. It takes him a minute to find his voice.
“What- was that Parseltounge?”
Regulus, ever cool, just nods. James shakes his head, trying to calm himself down. “You’re a parselmouth? Why- what-”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Reg-”
“I just wanted to wait.”
James keeps shaking his head left and right, as if that’ll make the situation make sense. He can feel his heart, echoing his confusion with every pounding beat. “How long have you been able to do that?”
Regulus shrugs. “Since I was a kid.”
Oh.
“Sirius knows?”
“Yes.” Regulus looks down. “So does Lupin, actually.”
“ What ?”
“He found out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It didn’t come up.”
“Bullshit.”
Regulus just crosses his arms over his knees, piercing James with that same cold stare. “I’m telling you now.”
James rubs his eyes, trying to sort out the emotions churning inside him. “So- you’re related to Salazar Slytherin?”
“Yes. Not sure how.”
“Jesus, Reg. I don’t know why Sirius ever thought you’d be a Gryfindor when you first came to school.”
Regulus shuts down a bit, sinking further back. “He’s wrong about a lot of things.”
“Can you say something else?”
Regulus obliges, letting out another complicated hiss. The words almost make him look older, deepening the shadows already clinging to his pale face. He looks powerful, James realizes. Powerful and cold. It was terrifying, slightly, and beautiful. A fallen angel with the voice of a snake.
“How does your mother feel about that?”
“She doesn’t like it. She can’t understand it, which means she can’t control it, and she doesn’t like things she can't control. But… it comes in handy.”
“How so?”
Regulus grimaces, averting his eyes. “The Dark Lord is a parseltongue, James. And a Slytherin. Don’t you think he’d find the same traits admirable in someone else?”
And, well, doesn’t that just hit like a punch to the gut. “I- I thought you just said you’ve talked to him before, not that you-”
“Not that I know him? Not that I see him regularly?” Regulus shakes his head, rueful. “I’m the Black heir. You really think they’d let me hide in the background?”
James lets out a small groan, tipping his face into his hands. “And you let him?”
“Let him what?”
“Know you? Be near you?”
“What else am I supposed to do?”
“Jesus, Reg, anything! I get it if it’s just your parents but it’s Voldemort . He, what, trains you? Builds you up to be a good little Death Eater? And you say nothing. You do nothing.”
“You don’t know-”
“I know I would never sit by and let him manipulate me.”
“Who says he’s manipulating me?”
James shakes his head, burning with anger. “So you’re going on with him willingly? That’s so much fucking worse.”
“You have no idea-” Regulus cuts himself off, standing up quickly. He runs a hand through his hair and walks to the other side of the room, shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. For a moment both of them stay quiet.
When Regulus finally turns to face him, his eyes are narrowed into slits. “You’re wrong, you know. I don’t do nothing. I do this.” He gestures angrily between him and James. “I let you in, let you past my defenses, let you talk and hold and kiss me. Let you make me feel so-” Regulus lets out a frustrated huff. “And then I go back to that house, and I have to hide all of it. Everything. Since first year, James. I’ve been shoving you down since my first year. That’s my rebellion. That’s what I do.”
James feels like all the air has been sucked from the room. He doesn’t know what to say, just keeps staring at him from the couch.
Regulus shakes his head. “Forget it. Go to bed. You shouldn't have come.” He starts to turn and walk out when James finally finds his words, rising quickly.
“Since first year?”
Regulus freezes, turning back to him slowly. His face is still cold, angry, but there's a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. “Doesn’t matter.”
James crosses to him, still reeling. “You’ve liked me since first year.”
Regulus frowns, brows pinching together. “That isn’t what you were supposed to take from that.”
James pulls him in and he stumbles, albeit somewhat reluctantly, a little closer. “Since first year, and you never told me?”
“I don’t tell you a lot of things.”
“Evidently.”
James kisses him soft and long, only pulling away when absolutely necessary. He tucks a curl behind Regulus’s ear and studies his face, thinking. “It’s interesting, though, that you used our relationship to make your point instead of what you’ve done for my father. Which, actually, could be argued is a direct attack against Voldemort since Dad’s a prominent figure on the opposite side.”
Regulus shakes his head lightly, letting out a soft puff of air that James can feel on his lips. “‘This feels like more of a betrayal, somehow.”
“Mm.”
Regulus pushes his chest. “I meant what I said. You need to leave. The others are still asleep.”
“I haven’t seen you for two weeks, you drop all this on me, then you want me to go?”
“Yes.”
James takes a step back. “Fine. But Regulus- you can’t avoid me. I’m serious. And you have to sleep.”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “I was working on that.”
“This wouldn’t have been necessary if-”
“Yes, I know. If I’d come and found you. Noted.”
“Mm.” James takes one last look, drinking in the sight of him. “You’re ok?”
Regulus offers him the slightest of smiles, and it feels like ten times the victory it actually is. “I’m ok, James.”
“Ok.”
“Goodnight.” With that Regulus turns, disappearing up the staircase. James watches him go, slightly hesitant to let him out of his sight again. He does, though, because he can’t very well follow him to bed.
When he leaves, the painting- Albert- calls out to him at the entrance. “How’d it go, invisible boy?”
“I- I’m not sure, to be totally honest.”
“That wasn’t what I was promised. Where’s my drama? Where’s my intrigue?”
“Thanks for the password.”
Albert starts to say something else but James pulls on the cloak before he can finish, turning and walking away.
When he gets back to bed he lays on his back and stares at the ceiling. He already knows he won't be able to sleep, and he ran out of Regulus’s potions a week ago.
---
“Are the OWLs really next week?”
Remus sighs, tipping his head up to look at the sky. “Yeah, Pete. What have you been studying for the past month?”
“Not my OWLs.”
“Merlin.”
Remus slumps down on the grass, leaning back. It’s a sunny day so the courtyard is slightly more crowded than usual. Peter has his papers out spread across his lap, pouring over them with a furrowed brow. Regulus and his friends are on the other side, leaning against the stone wall. The younger Black has his face buried in a book.
“Ugh. It’s too bright out.”
Remus blinks up at a disgruntled James, standing over them with his arms crossed. “Found us, did you?”
“You forget we can find literally anyone if we want to, Moony.”
Peter looks up eagerly. “Sirius! Have you started studying for your OWLs?”
Remus straightens, almost instinctively. For the first time he notices Sirius, lurking slightly behind James. His gut tightens, though he manages to stay silent. He told James and Peter it was fine. He gave them his permission. So there’s really no reason to feel a sting of resentment when Peter blinks hopefully up at him. And yet-
“Er- yeah, Pete. Have you not?”
Peter groans, throwing himself onto his back. “No!”
“Oh. Right. Well.” Sirius takes a seat next to Pete, opening one of the books. They dissolve into quiet conversation about arithmetic as James takes a seat next to Remus.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Full moon soon.”
“Yeah.”
They fall silent again. Remus glances over at James, surprised to see his gaze locked on the group of Slytherins across the courtyard. He watches as his normally relaxed expression tightens into something a little more unfamiliar. “You alright?”
“What? Oh- yeah.” James’s eyes don’t move from their target.
“Hm.” Remus tilts his head. “They aren’t bothering anyone, you know.”
“I know.”
“Right.”
Something dark and concerning scratches at the back of Remus’s mind. James said the person he was seeing was a Slytherin, which narrows down his options considerably and makes any Slytherin boy a potential candidate. And the way he’s staring at the group across the lawn… Remus grits his teeth. “James-”
“When's lunch?”
Remus blinks, taken aback. “Um, not for another two periods. Think you can wait that long?”
“Ugh. Why do they insist on feeding us so late?”
“Maybe because not all of us need an insane amount of food just to get through the day.”
“I refuse to believe I am the abnormal one here.”
“Oh, no. Don’t worry. You and Pete are in the same boat.”
At the sound of his name Peter looks up, pausing mid sentence. Behind him, Sirius follows suit. Instantly, their eyes lock, and something not unfamiliar runs through Remus- a flash of emotion he’s been trying and failing to ignore since first year.
Sirius looks away first.
“Wormtail, do you think they should feed us more?” James starts, leaning forward.
Peter throws up his hands. “That's what I’ve been saying! They’re starving us.”
Remus rolls his eyes. “It’s literally an all you can eat situation. The food never stops.”
“Not really. We only have access to it for such a short time it hardly counts.”
“Go back to studying, Pete.”
“Fine.” Peter groans, picking up his paper again.
James sighs, leaning back on his elbows. “It really is a nice day out.”
Remus shakes his head, unresponsive. He watches James' fingers dig into the soft grass. “How’s your father?”
“...Good. Whatever the doctors are giving him is slowing down the disease, so if nothing else he’s not getting worse.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
“Well-”
A shout rings out across the courtyard and all four of them snap their heads up at the same time. It takes Remus a minute to find the source of the noise, but the second he does he’s on his feet.
Crouch has a 3rd year up against the wall, wand under his chin. Rosier’s next to him, smirking slightly. Regulus looks as passive as ever, watching with crossed arms. The 3rd year looks terrified.
“Oh, fuck that.” Sirius is moving before any of them can react, crossing the courtyard quickly. James starts after him instantly, Peter and Remus following a second later.
“Crouch!” Sirius stalks towards him. “Put him down. What are you doing?”
“Stay out of this, Black. Doesn’t concern you.”
Remus pulls up next to James, Peter just a bit behind him. Sirius takes another step. “What’d he do?”
“Hit me with a spell, that’s what. Doesn’t fucking matter to you though, does it?”
The 3rd year whimpers. “I didn’t mean to! We were practicing spells and my wand misfired. I’m sorry!”
“Course it did. Mudbloods never can aim right, can they?”
James and Remus have their wands out in a second, ready and waiting. Regulus takes a step forward. “Barty, let him down. It’s fine.”
“Reg-”
“Listen to Regulus, Crouch. For once he has an ounce of sense.” Sirius keeps moving forward, wand in hand. Remus swallows, throat suddenly tight.
“Please!” The 3rd year grabs at Barty’s arm, who growls in disgust.
“Get your hands off me.” He shoves him harder against the wall before dropping him and stepping back entirely. The 3rd year mumbles something and runs away, ducking between Remus and Peter to get out.
“Good choice.” Sirius keeps his wand raised, eyes sharp.
“Oh, now you’re making me regret it.”
“Why don’t you fucking keep to yourself, Crouch?” James says, unmoving.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Bullying 3rd year muggle-borns? What would your father say?”
Rosier takes a step forward, a low growl coming from somewhere deep in his throat. There’s a dangerous glint in Barty’s eye. “You want to talk about fathers, Potter? I hear yours can hardly get out of bed these days.”
Shit.
James is the first to move. He lunges, wand raised. Barty grins, cackling. Before Remus can blink Regulus shoves himself forward, seemingly teleporting between Crouch and James. “Expelliarmus.”
James’s wand goes flying just as Regulus turns and shoves Barty back, hissing. “We don’t have time for a bloody schoolyard scrap right now. What were you thinking?”
Barty locks eyes with Regulus. “I’m thinking he’s a fucking pureblood traitor who freely associates with mudblood scum. Why the fuck are you protecting him?”
Regulus grabs his wrist. “I’m not. I’m doing this for you. Just because you’re blood thirsty doesn’t mean you need to go after the first thing that moves. Be patient, for once.”
“He insulted my father-”
“-you insulted his. You’re even now, yeah? So stop being an idiot and put the wand away.”
Glaring but silent, Crouch hesitantly lowers his wand. Next to Remus, James lets out a tense breath.
“Come on, Reg.” Rosier says imploringly. “There was no reason-”
“There’s no reason for an unnecessary detention.” Regulus cuts him off, glaring.
“Thanks,” Remus murmurs, tucking his wand away.
“Don’t thank me. Not yet.”
With no warning James turns on his heels and walks away, shoulders stiff and movements hurried. He grabs his wand on his way out. Remus furrows his brow in confusion, wondering if he should go after him. He decides against it. When he turns back, Regulus is watching him go, a hand coming up to subconsciously rub his left shoulder.
Next to him, Remus hears a sharp intake of breath. He glances over at Sirius and… pauses. Sirius’s eyes are locked on Regulus’s hand, entire body stock still. He takes a jolting step back and instinctually Remus moves forward, just slightly. Because the look on Sirius’s face is nothing short of terrified, his lips parting as he lets out a small gasp.
Sirius is gone in the next second, nearly tripping over himself in his attempt to escape. Remus and Peter exchange a look before they’re off too, leaving the Slytherins in the dust.
“Go find James. Just ask him why he left.” Remus mutters, not looking at Peter.
“Remus-”
“I know.”
“One of us has to go get Sirius.”
“I know.”
Peter opens his mouth to say something else, before seemingly thinking better of it and shutting it firmly. He nods. “What the fuck just happened?”
Remus sighs. “I have no idea.”
Peter just shakes his head and stalks away. Remus stops walking, looking back up at the sky. It’s fine, he tells himself. It’ll be fine.
With that, he takes a deep breath and goes after Sirius.