Imperio
“You’ve still got a whole semester left, surely there’s time to come up with something.” Marlene leans forward in her armchair.
James shrugs. “It has to be big.”
“Huge,” Peter agrees.
“How big can a prank get?” Lily asks.
“Don’t ask.”
“Big enough to be remembered.”
Sirius rests his head on the back of the couch. “We’ve got a legacy to uphold.”
Lily sighs. “Sure.”
James glances at Remus, laying across the length of the couch. He’s got a pillow braced against Sirius’s thigh, staring at the ceiling. James sends a pointed glare at Sirius, who in return stubbornly refuses to meet his gaze. “What if we turn all the Slytherin robes to ball gowns.”
“Not impactful enough,” Remus murmurs sleepily. He’s closed his eyes, evidently still listening.
“Release a giant spider into the halls?”
“Too dangerous.” Sirius shakes his head. “We can’t actually hurt anyone.”
“What if you join up with the Slytherins?” Lily asks. “If you tag team it, you could have double the effect.”
“No.” All the Marauders say at once. Peter huffs. “That goes against everything we stand for.”
“Speaking of,” Marlene interjects. “Meadows was talking to me earlier.”
Pete stares at her. “Meadows? As in Dorcas? As in the Slytherin probably working for Voldemort?”
James looks up, furrowing his brow. Why would…
“That's the thing,” Marlene says. “She’s not. Working for them that is. She wants to join the Order.”
“What?” Everyone in the room hisses.
Marlene nods. “Yeah. She- I don’t even know. She just pulled me aside and asked me what I knew.”
“She’s just trying to get information, obviously.” Peter says.
Marlene shakes her head. “She said she’d testify in front of Moody. Let him question her, under veritaserum.”
Veritaserum can be resisted, James thinks. The idea makes his stomach hurt.
“Why the sudden switch?” Sirius asks.
Marlene shrugs. “I don’t know. But- is it really that sudden? I mean, when was the last time she sat with Crouch and Black in the Great Hall? Or, like, walked with them.”
“She was with them in the courtyard the other day,” Peter offers.
Sirius’s gaze sharpens. “Yeah, but remember? When I suggested she was on our side in all this, she didn’t deny it.”
“So… what? Do you think they had a falling out?”
James thinks back to Regulus’s voice, soft and sad. “Just friend stuff.” He’d said. “Tensions.”
Was that this?
“They did,” James says instinctually.
He looks up to see everyone's gaze on him, all confused. Except Remus, who just closes his eyes again. “I mean,” he says. “That’s the only thing that makes sense. She wants to join the order? That’s sudden.”
“But they’ve always been close. Why now?”
Sirius shrugs. “Something must’ve happened.”
“Are we… I mean, are we going to tell Moody and Dumbledore about this?”
Lily shrugs. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t. I’m sure he already knows, anyway. If she's lying, we’ll figure that out soon enough. And If she’s not, insider information on the Slytherins currently connected to the dark Lord would be immensely helpful. If we can trust her-”
“I trust her.” Marlene says instantly.
Lily rolls her eyes and continues. “If we can trust her, she’d be a great asset. She’s a good witch.”
“She’s a Slytherin.”
“She’s powerful,” Marlene interjects. “Have you seen her in Defense Against the Dark Arts? Her spells are good.”
“Course you’d notice.”
Marlene blushes a furious red, crossing her arms. “Yeah, Evans? What about it.”
Lily rolls her eyes. “All crushes are accepted and cherished here.”
“I don’t- she just-” Marlene huffs before shutting up and pressing her lips together. “Whatever.”
“We can talk to Dumbledore,” James offers. “I’ll ask him about us fighting as well. I want to know when our, like, training begins.”
“After school, I imagine.” Sirius offers.
“Yeah, but we’ve got to go through some sort of orientation or something, right? They won’t just shove us out there?”
“They will if they have to,” Lily says evenly. “Things are getting really bad out there.”
For a moment, the warmth of the fire does little to shut out the cold that seems to seep through the window panes. They go silent, listening to the crackle of the sparks and the hiss of the wind. Pete speaks first. “Isn’t that a little… I don’t know. Isn’t that a little odd?”
James tips his head. “What is?”
“They’d just… shove us out there like that. Put us on the battlefield, untrained, and let us figure it out. Seems dangerous.”
“It is dangerous. That’s not the point.”
Peter frowns. “Hm.”
“Either way,” Marlene says, waving a hand. “If she comes around, which I don’t think she will, I just ask you all be semi-kind. She doesn’t seem to have many friends right now.”
“You want us to take pity on her?”
“No. I think she’d kill you.”
“Right.”
“What if you turn everyone into animals for the day.” Sirius says suddenly.
James considers it. “...Too much risk. If we can’t switch them back…”
“Yeah, but you know you could. Think about the chaos.”
Lily smiles. “No.”
“But-”
“No.”
“Alright.”
“We could try and turn all the food invisible. You reach for it, and poof! It’s gone.” Peter offers.
James narrows his eyes. “That would affect us too. I refuse to starve.”
“Surely you can go one day without-”
“Try me.”
“Fine. Does anyone else have any ideas?”
“Be a little quieter. Please.” Sirius cuts through, glaring at all of them.
“Don’t tell me to be quiet!” James says indignantly.
Sirius narrows his eyes at him and nods to his lap in indication. “Shut it.”
Lily starts to say something then cuts herself off, smiling softly. “I- oh. I see. Right. Maybe it’s time for bed.”
James follows her gaze and finds himself copying her expression. Remus’s head is on Sirius’s thigh, eyes closed and lips gently parted. He’s fully asleep, the pillow discarded behind him. “Ah.”
Everyone rises as Peter and James exchange a look. “Pads, do you wanna come up with us?”
“I- um-” Sirius swallows and looks back down at Remus, his hand hovering over his head. “I think I’m just gonna stay here for a bit. I’ll be up soon.”
“Sure, mate.” James ruffles his hair as he passes behind the couch. “See you later, yeah?”
Sirius nods. “Uh-huh.”
James pauses at the door to the stairs, giving Sirius one last look. He raises his brows in gentle encouragement before turning and heading up the steps. Pete’s already in bed, curtains drawn closed.
Going to the map, James whispers the words and watches as the castle unfolds in front of him. Regulus is in his dorm, he notes with an uncomfortable satisfaction. He’s pacing, his little inky footsteps reaching from one wall to the other. James takes a deep breath, staring intently at the spot. He falls back against his bed, watching Regulus’s name go back and forth.
He’s been avoiding him. He feels awful, naturally, but what’s he supposed to do? They have to talk about it, he knows, but it… hurts. The fear and dread in his stomach gnaws at his gut, making him want to curl up and do anything to ignore the pain.
Reg has been able to throw off an imperious curse since he was twelve.
Twelve.
But he was fifteen when he cursed Sirius. He was fifteen when he left him with a deep cut stretching across his ribs, one that took most of Effie's homemade remedies to repair. He was fifteen when he soaked Sirius in his own blood and watched as he went out the window.
He’d told James he’d had no choice. He told him he’d been imperioed.
But.
But why didn’t he throw it off?
Why didn’t he at least try?
Unless there was no Imperio. Unless Veritiserum could be resisted with tolerance or-
James stares at the little footsteps, lips parting on a silent sharp inhale.
Or a cure.
Regulus told him he didn’t brew a potion to spare himself from the effects. But he had the materials- there was an entire bloody laboratory right in front of him. He could’ve. And then he could’ve lied about doing so.
And after that- well. After that, he would’ve been free to say whatever he liked.
James bites his lip, frowning. The dread in his gut curdles, turning circles. He wouldn’t. There was no reason to. It didn’t make sense.
And yet.
Maybe it was time to stop avoiding him.
They need to talk.
---
When Remus wakes up, it’s to the snap and crackle of sparks. He opens his eyes blearily, so comfortable. The fire dances in front of him, radiating waves of warmth.
The second thing he notices is the hand on his head. There are fingers gently combing through his hair, brushing the strands away from his forehead. It feels, embarrassingly, incredibly good.
And then everything rushes back in, and he realizes where he fell asleep and exactly whose hand that is.
His heart jumps in his chest. He takes a deep breath and shifts slightly, blinking as he turns his head up. The fingers in his hair pull back and he immediately mourns the loss. Sirius stares down at him, firelight glinting off his grey eyes.
“Hi.”
Remus sucks in a breath. His head is on Sirius’s lap, resting gently on his thigh. He has no idea where the initial pillow went, but it’s obviously not a part of the equation anymore. That’s alright, he supposes. This is much more comfortable. “Hi,” he croaks, voice still thick with sleep.
“You fell asleep.”
“I noticed.” To his chagrin, Remus realizes it would be weird to keep his head in Sirius’s lap. Against his better judgment he sits up, leaning against the back of the couch. The fire crackles. “You didn’t go up with the others?”
Sirius swallows, shaking his head. He really is beautiful, Remus thinks. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
Remus opens his mouth to say something, but finds he can’t. After a moment, he shuts it again. Sirius smiles. “Did you know you don’t breathe through your nose when you sleep?”
Remus flushes. “What?”
“You keep your mouth just slightly open.”
Remus feels his brows pinch in embarrassment. “Oh. Ew. Sorry.”
“No, it means you don’t snore. I like it. It’s cute.”
And-
What?
What?
Sirius goes as red as the fire when he realizes what he said, looking away. “I mean- you know, it’s-”
“Thank you for staying with me,” Remus says, cutting him off. Every inch of him is humming, burning. He can’t figure out if it’s the flames or the boy next to him that’s making him so warm. “You didn’t have to.”
Sirius looks at him through his lashes and Merlin. Remus, still a little faded from sleep whispers: “Are you doing that on purpose?”
“What?”
“That.” Remus tips his chin in indication, and then- freezes. Because when he moved his head, Sirius did too. Barely tilting his face, he leaned in just slightly, as if to meet him in the middle. It looked almost instinctual in nature, just a quick little movement that so easily could’ve gone unnoticed.
But Remus noticed.
God, did he notice.
Maybe it’s the sleep affecting his decision making, maybe it’s just time. He reaches out and tucks a dark strand of hair behind Sirius’s ear, letting the pads of his fingers brush his cheek. Sirius’s eyes stay wide and searching, fixed determinedly on Remus’s.
“You didn’t have to stay.” Remus murmurs again. He keeps his hand on Sirius’s face, resting it there under the guise of fixing his hair.
Sirius takes a shuddering breath. “Of course I did,” he whispers softly. “Of course.”
Remus can’t stop himself from leaning in, tilting closer. And there it is again, the involuntary movement of Sirius’s head, ducking forward.
When it happens, it’s slightly chunky and disjointed, all lurchy movements and feints towards each other accompanied by heartbeats pounding in their ears.
Till they're close enough to feel each other's breath.
Till Remus feels more than knows what’s about to happen.
And when their lips meet in the middle it’s slightly off center and hesitant, but no less perfect for it.
And all Remus can think is-
Finally.
Finally.
The lava of Sirius’s touch erupts, turning Remus’s entire body molten and glowing, a warm beacon of feeling. He brings his other hand up, holding Sirius’s face and pulling him closer. Sirius’s hand comes up too, resting on Remus’s and holding tight. His hair is so soft beneath Remus’s fingers, lips so soft under Remus’s own.
It’s everything he’s ever wanted.
Then all too soon Sirius is pulling back and it’s way too abrupt, sending everything crashing down around them. He pushes himself off the couch and stands up, stumbling back. Remus can see his shoulders shaking as he stares at him, wide-eyed and wild.
The glow inside him darkens, cooling rapidly under the dismay in Sirius’s expression. He forces himself to speak, pushing words through the years of longing and anxiety stored in his throat. “Sirius-”
“That was stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.” Sirius says quickly, and Remus’s resolve begins to crack. “That was a mistake.”
“A mistake.” Remus can hardly hear himself over his heartbeat.
“We should not have done that.”
Remus just stares.
“I- It’s not like that,” Sirius tries, then gives up, letting out a deep breath. “I’m not gay, Remus.”
Oh.
Ow.
Remus has to resist bringing a hand up to rub at his heart, trying to soothe whatever ache is slowly spreading through his chest.
“You’re not gay.” He repeats dumbly.
“No. Maybe best we don’t mention this, yeah? No one needs to know. Let’s just forget it.”
Remus can’t breathe.
He can’t-
He can’t breathe.
“Oh.”
Sirius nods, eyes glittering. Slowly he backs up, staring at Remus the whole while. He’s still shaking, Remus notes distantly.
He turns and pushes through the portrait hole, disappearing into the castle.
Remus bends forward on the couch, arms wrapped around his middle. He takes gasping breaths, trying to force air into his lungs.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck-
There’s a hand on his back, he realizes distantly. Someone rubbing in soothing circles, a voice in his ear. He grips his sides, shuddering.
Maybe James can help.
Maybe he can remind him how breathing works.
“Remus. Remus, can you hear me? Hey-”
Remus looks up, the sound of the voice surprising him enough to snap him out of it, at least temporarily.
It’s not who he’s expecting.
“Pete?” He gasps. “Where’s James?”
Distantly, he notices Peter’s face fall, shoulders sagging a bit. He lets out a breath. “Asleep.”
Suddenly Remus needs James more than anything, needs to hear his voice. He rises to his feet, making for the stairs. He doesn’t hear Peter follow him, but quite honestly, he doesn’t really care.
James is sprawled out on his bed, glasses still on, the map laying on his chest. He must’ve fallen asleep staring at it. Remus tucks that thought away for later and leans down, shaking his shoulder. “James,” he hisses, acting on instinct for the second time that night.
James blinks blearily, pushing the map off him and squinting up at Remus. “Mph. Moony? What is it?”
Remus opens his mouth to tell him and- can’t.
Not can’t in the way he couldn’t tell them when Regulus cursed him.
Can’t in a different sense.
It doesn’t seem to matter. James sees it in his face. “Shit.” He sits up quickly, scooching over on the bed so Remus can take a seat.
“What happened?” he asks quietly.
Remus just shakes his head, chest caving in on itself.
James sucks in a breath. “What did he say?”
“He’s said it- it wasn’t like that, James.”
He sees the words hit James, sees him take them in and think them over. Sees them register. “ Oh,” James says softly. “Oh. I’m going to kill him.”
“James.”
“I know. Shit. I’m sorry.” He looks over at Remus and shifts closer, pressing their forearms together. “Hey, take some breaths.”
Remus tries his best, really. He sucks in lungfulls, rubbing his knees with his palms.
“Good,” James says gently. “Keep doing that.”
“I’m so fucking stupid.”
James shakes his head, running a hand through his scruffy hair. “No. Not even a little. I don’t know what happened, but-” he lets out a breath. “I promise you did everything right.”
“That's not true.”
“Yes it is.”
“No-”
James cuts him off with a firm look. “Remus. However he responded, it wasn’t because of you. He- I mean, you know. He has so much shit going all the time. You think fancying blokes is encouraged in the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black? You think they were brought up in a space where that kind of behavior wouldn’t have been brutally punished?”
They, Remus notes distantly. “But I shouldn’t have…”
“Yes, you should’ve. Whatever you did, yes. Don’t put your good sense on his poor reaction.”
“He-”
“Was acting out of fear, Moony.”
Remus takes another deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face. Was that true? Did it matter?
“I ruined everything. He left.”
Next to him, James sucks in a breath. “That’s not your fault. He’ll come around, I promise.”
Remus shudders, trying desperately to keep everything in his chest.
“I thought-” Remus’s voice cracks. “I thought he liked me.”
James says nothing to that, putting an arm around Remus’s shoulders and pulling him in. Remus drops his head, trying to ignore the tears that are starting to slip out of his eyes and down his cheeks, collecting on his chin. He feels truly and completely pathetic. Weak. Young. Like he’s just a boy with a stupid crush. James rubs his arm gently, staying quiet.
Distantly, Remus wonders if this is what it feels like to be Sirius. To be Regulus. To be on the reviving end of James Potter’s full attention. It’s soft and soothing, entirely warm and comforting. He understands, he thinks, how it could be so magnetic for someone raised in a house as cold as Grimmauld Place.
“He’ll come around,” James says softly. “And until then, until he realizes what a fucking idiot he’s being, don’t let him get to you.”
Too late, Remus thinks as a tear lands in his lap. Far, far too fucking late.
James rubs his shoulder, up and down. “It’s ok, Moony. Everything’s going to sort itself out.”
“This is what I mean,” Remus chuckles through his quiet tears. “About you- you and Regulus.”
James stiffens, but only slightly. “Hm?”
“This is why it’s easy.”
James doesn’t say anything to that, just keeps his arms around him, keeps rubbing his shoulder. “It’s all going to work out,” He says eventually, and Remus isn’t entirely sure who he’s talking to. Maybe James isn’t either.
---
“Regulus, my boy!” Slughorn practically shouts, clapping him on the shoulder. “Welcome. Perfectly on time, as always. Take a seat.”
Regulus tips his head in acknowledgement and scans the long table, eventually sliding in across from Mulciber. The Slug Club has become a monthly nuisance. Every single time the dreaded night comes around he has to convince himself to actually go; if only to stay in Slughorn’s good graces. The food is mediocre and the conversation abysmal, but it gets him access to the potions cabinet any time he needs, so he supposes it’s worth it.
“We were just talking about you.” Slughorn says, settling into a chair of his own.
Regulus looks up. “Sir?”
“Your brother, really. Sirius, right? Yes. Lovely boy.”
Regulus keeps his face blank, gaze locked straight ahead. Out of his periphery he can see Evans staring at him, her green eyes intense and focused. “What about him?”
“The inheritance- your uncles, if I remember correctly- did your parents ever manage to get some of that?”
Somehow the Daily Prophet had gotten ahold of that story and a small article had been included in a recent issue. It’s no wonder Slughorn is dragging it back up- he scours the paper daily to find anything interesting pertaining to anyone he knows. Sometimes Regulus thinks he’s the biggest gossip he knows.
“No, Sir. The Ministry could find no faults in his will. I believe my brother is still in possession of nearly all the inheritance.”
He sees Lily smile, just slightly, and resists the urge to curse her.
Jealousy is a fickle thing, he thinks.
“Ah, sorry to hear that. Good for Sirius, though. Maybe we should have him around sometime, eh? Could be fun. We really only have the one Gryffindor anyway, what with Miss Evans here.”
Regulus lets out a light chuckle. “I’m not sure this is exactly his scene, Sir.”
“And anyway-” Mulciber starts, but cuts himself off when he sees Slughorn's disapproving look.
“No politics at the table, Mulciber.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“So, Mr. Black, they really didn’t get anything?”
“I’m not sure, Sir.”
“Interesting.” Slughorn lets out a long sigh. Then he perks up. “Hey, what about the Potter boy?”
Regulus chokes on his water at the same time Lily lets out a loud cough, covering her mouth. “Sorry, Sir?” He rasps, staring at him.
“James, right? He’s friends with Sirius. Surely he could convince him to join. Oh! And Miss Evans, you two are particularly close, aren’t you?”
Regulus watches as Lily’s cheeks turn bright pink. Almost subconsciously, his fingers tighten on his glass. “It’s- It’s not like that, Professor,” Lily manages. “But we’re friends, yes.”
“I heard his father’s got a nasty case of DragonPox, is that right?”
“...Yes, Sir.”
“Ouch.” Slughorn lets out a sympathetic hiss, shaking his head. “But he’s not dead! That’s pretty good for someone who's been sick as long as he has.”
“Right.” Lily looks away, and Regulus considers shoving his plate of mashed potatoes into Slughorn’s face.
“Fleamont Potter. Brilliant man, I’ve heard. Wonderful inventor.” There’s a spark in his eye, one Regulus knows all too well. He’s found himself a new project. “I really should’ve thought of this sooner. Yes. We absolutely must get the Potter boy to join us.”
“I can ask, if you like.” Lily offers.
“That would be splendid. I’d love to know what he thinks of his fathers mysterious illness. You know, they’re saying it was a Death Eater attack that poisoned him.”
“I don’t-”
“I wonder how much of the inheritance he’ll get. It’s sizable, you know. Not as large as Regulus over here, but then again the house of Black is one of the wealthiest families in Britain.”
“I heard Fleamonts recovering,” Lily says, and Regulus almost detects a stoney undercurrent to her tone. Good.
“Did you now? That would be very interesting. There’s no cure for dragon pox, you know.”
“Not yet.” Lily says.
“True. Right you are, my girl. What with your potions skills, you might just invent one.” Slughorn turns to a Hufflepuff fourth year. “Fennwick, how's the season going? I’m told you pulled off a pretty risky Speelman’s Steal the other day.”
Fennwick looks up through a mouthful of sausage. “Hm? Oh- yeah- I guess.”
The conversation spirals and drags on, ending up just as dull as it always seems to be. Finally, Slughorn adjourns and everyone pushes back their chairs, standing up. “Good meeting, everyone. Regulus, would you hang back for a minute?”
Regulus lets out a deep internal sigh and turns around, plastering on a slight smile. “Of course.”
Everyone else trickles out as Slughorn summons a house elf to clean up the table. “Dumbledore has requested to see you in his office.”
Regulus goes still. “Now?”
“Now. He said after dinner would be fine.”
“Do you… do you know why, Sir?”
“I have my suspicions, of course, but I’m sure you do as well. Best head along now, wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
“Of course.” Regulus says, only slightly ruefully. “Thank you for dinner, Professor.”
Slughorn waves him off and Regulus begins the walk to Dumbledore’s office, wondering if there’s any way he could still get out of this.
The door swings open as soon as he knocks, Dumbledore looking up from his desk. “Regulus. Welcome.”
Slowly and cautiously Regulus steps into the office, looking around. “You wanted to see me, Sir?”
“Have a seat.” Dumbledore motions to the chair waiting at his desk.
Every inch of his body tense, Regulus sits down. Dumbledore nods. “Good. I just had a few questions.”
Regulus raises his brows. “Do I get to choose whether I answer them?”
Dumbledore, unfazed, leans back. “I had to do what was necessary, Mr. Black.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Yes. You will have your full autonomy.”
Regulus says nothing, staring at him. After a moment, Dumbledore continues. “Dorcas Meadows came to me the other day, asking to join the Order of the Phoenix. Did you know about this?”
Regulus lets out a heavy breath. “No.”
“The truth is imperative, Mr. Black-”
“Then why don’t you lace my tea again?” He snaps.
Dumbledore just smiles. “Ms. Meadows is going to be training with the Order. Did she discuss this decision with you?”
“No.”
“Do you know what convinced her to change her mind?”
“No.”
“Do you think you could find out?”
“No.”
“Mr. Black-”
“What do you want?” Regulus hisses, fed up.
Dumbledore leans back, lacing his hands in front of him. “You fear Voldemort.”
Regulus sucks in a breath, narrowing his eyes. “What? What does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s only natural. Many do, for good reason. But that fear is what gives him power over you- and it is fear that makes us blind to the possibilities of a better path.”
“I never do anything because of fear.”
Dumbledore smiles. “If that were true, Mr. Black, you’d be in a different house.”
“Get to your point.”
“I’m sure your fear has driven you to great heights, Mr. Black. I know you’ve done things you aren’t proud of.”
Regulus tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There is always a way back, if one has the courage to seek it.” Dumbeldore peers at him over his glasses. “You can make the right choice. There’s still time to repent.”
“I have nothing to repent for.”
“I’m the head of the Order, Regulus. You think I don’t know everything there is to know about Tom and his strategies?”
“What-”
“Those Muggles, almost a year ago. Did you know they still haven’t woken up? I believe all of them are still in their beds in St. Mungos.”
Regulus can’t breathe. He says nothing. Dumbledore just inclines his head and continues. “Their families aren’t being given any news, Muggles as they are. I think they believe their loved ones are missing. But for over a year? Well. I imagine they’ve assumed they’re dead by now. They’ve given up hope.”
Regulus’s throat closes up. “I-”
“It’s Wormwood, obviously. The healers figured it out fairly quickly. It was smart of you to limit the amount. It shows there’s still some good in you somewhere.”
Regulus’s heart drops. He opens his mouth.
“You’re clever enough to know the exact measurement, I assume. And it was you, wasn’t it? You’re his little potioner.”
Regulus forces himself to speak. His voice comes out cracked and dry. “I’m flattered you think I’d be entrusted with such power.”
Dumbledore’s glasses glint. “There’s no point denying me, Mr. Black.”
Regulus rises, slightly unsteady. “His potioner would have to be high up in the ranks; trusted. I’m just the Black heir- no more, no less.”
“You mean to tell me-”
Regulus opens the door, pausing to send him one last glare. “And besides, you said it yourself. Whoever brewed that potion left out just enough Wormwood to keep those Muggles alive.” He smiles, slow and cruel. “I never would’ve made that mistake.”
He lets the door slam shut after him.
---
“Pads, did you finish your transfiguration essay?” James asks, leaning back against the courtyard wall.
Sirius looks up, gaze unfocused. “Hm? Oh- yeah. Yeah, I did it this morning.”
James nods. “Right. Can I see it? I… didn’t have time.”
Sirius smiles. “It’s not my best work.”
James shrugs. “Anything is better than nothing.”
It’s been awkward, of course. Naturally. The air of tension in the group is so thick it almost hurts his lungs. Remus refuses to look at Sirius, refuses to go near him, but it’s a shameful sort of avoidance, nothing like the anger of last year.
Their eyes dance off eachother, Sirius’s face flushing white the second Remus enters the room. And James- James can’t do shit about it. Technically, he doesn’t even know what happened. He can assume, though, based on Remus’s reaction last night and Sirius’s complete refusal to look either of them in the eye.
He’s decided not to talk to Sirius about it. This doesn't seem like something he can help him through, and by the sound of it he’s not even supposed to know anything happened in the first place. And anyway, he isn't sure what he can say without betraying Remus’s trust.
So he stays quiet.
“You can look at mine,” Marlene offers. James sends her a look.
“That might be worse.”
“Fuck right off, then.”
“I’ll look at yours!” Mary says, turning to Marlene. “I totally forgot about that assignment.”
Marlene winks and digs through her bag, handing her a bundle of parchment. “Here. No promises.” Then she looks up, and her eyes go wide.
James follows her gaze and raises his brows in surprise. Dorcas Meadows, looking extremely uncomfortable, stands above them with her arms crossed.
“Hello.” She says stiltedly.
“Hi.” James says after a moment, when no one else speaks.
“I- can I sit here?”
“Yes,” Marlene answers quickly. She motions to the grass “Seat’s free.”
“Right.” Dorcas lowers herself, setting her bag in front of her. “So. I talked to Marlene yesterday, as she might’ve mentioned.”
Sirius nods. “She said, yeah.”
“And then I talked to Dumbledore right after.”
James and Sirius exchange a look. “We didn’t know that bit,” James says. “About… the Order?”
She nods, looking over her shoulder like she’d rather be anywhere else. “He doesn’t trust me, I don’t think.”
“Well-” Sirius starts, but the look Dorcas sends his way shuts him up.
“I assume he thinks I’m spying, or something. Dick.” Dorcas looks away. “He won’t let me in on anything unless I take Veritaserum.”
“Oh,” Marlene says. “That’s not unheard of. I mean, we probably will too-”
“No, I’m fine with that,” Dorcas waves a hand. “I don’t care. I thought it’d be worse.”
“Like what?” Sirius asks.
Dorcas shrugs. “Legilimency. Some sort of mental examination.”
“Legilimency?” Sirius chuckles. “That would be a bit far. I mean- Dumbledore is a fairly reasonable man.”
Dorcas levels him with a cool look. “To Gryffindors, maybe.”
“I hardly think-”
Dorcas ignores him and keeps talking. “He’ll give me the potion this weekend, and then it’s Christmas break. After that, I assume more directions will come.”
No one says anything for a minute. “Welcome,” James offers. “Glad to have you.”
Dorcas nods and offers him a slight smile. “Glad to be here.”
“So- I have to know- what changed your mind?” Sirius asks after a moment.
Dorcas hesitates. “I never changed my mind.”
“What do y’mean?”
“I’ve known what I wanted to do for a very long time.”
Sirius sends her a surprised look. “Oh. Then why the-”
“What?” Dorcas asks, her gaze a challenge.
“What’s with the crowd you keep?”
“What about them?”
Sirius snorts. “I hardly think Crouch and Rosier are of similar mindsets.”
“And Regulus,” Marlene offers when Sirius declines to do so.
James is pretty sure he and Dorcas make the same expression at the same time, dark and a little perturbed. “Why do they matter?” She asks.
Sirius tips his head. “I mean- you’ll be on the other side of the war, you know?”
“I know.”
“You’ll probably have to fight them.”
Dorcas says nothing, pressing her lips together. Sirius continues.
“Could you do that, do you think? Fight them?”
Dorcas doesn’t blink. “No.”
Marlene looks up, taken aback. “No?”
Dorcas shrugs. “Doesn’t mean there won’t be others that can.”
“I’d do whatever it took.”
Dorcas’s eyes widen, just for a second. “I’m sure you would.”
Sirius nods, looking out across the courtyard. “They would too, you know. All of them. They wouldn’t hesitate.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Dorcas says stiltedly.
Sirius just shrugs, still looking away. “Crouch and Rosier would do anything for their cause. So would Regulus.”
Dorcas shakes her head. “I disagree.” She says calmly, shrugging.
“You’re telling me you think my brother wouldn’t kill any of us if given the chance?”
Dorcas just stares at him. “I don’t think he would, no.”
James watches her, taking her in. She’s smart. He knows that much. Cold and calculating. But this, the look in her eye when she talks about Regulus- that’s new.
He decides he likes her very much.
“Dorcas,” Marlene asks. “Have you done the transfiguration assignment? You’re in our class, right?”
Dorcas turns to look at her, nodding and pulling the papers out of her bag. “Oh, yeah. Do you want to go over the answers?”
Marlene turns bright red, leaning forward scooching forward a bit on the grass. Sirius, James and Mary all exchange a look.
Oh well.
---
“You ready for break?”
Evan buries his face in his pillow. “No,” he manages, though it’s muffled. He doesn’t want to think about break right now.
“Me neither,” Barty grimaces, staring up at the ceiling. “My father said I’m not allowed out for the entire two weeks.”
Evan raises himself on his elbows, staring at Barty. “What? What does he expect you to do then?”
Barty shrugs, not looking at him. “Stay inside, learn Magical Law, study. Homework, maybe.”
“Idiot,” Evan breathes.
Barty nods, smirking. “Well. It’s not like I’m actually going to listen. I’ll come see you.”
Evan gives him a look. “Not if it’s not worth it, Barty.”
Bary pushes himself up, grinning before capturing Evan’s mouth in a sharp kiss. “It’s always worth it.”
Evan tries to ignore the bloody riot of an effect those words have on his stomach, rolling his eyes. “Yeah right. You just can’t go two weeks without fucking something.”
“Like you could do much better.”
Evan leans down and kisses him again, deep and intense. He wants Barty out of breath by the end of this. “Maybe not.”
“Besides,” Barty says, breaking away. “I might not make it out at this break.”
Evan frowns. “Why not?”
Barty doesn’t look at him, eyes glinting. “He put me under for 3 days last time.”
“Shit,” Evan breathes out.
Barty Crouch Sr. has always been fond of the imperious curse. He’s particularly trigger-happy with his son, especially recently. It’s an easy way to ensure the correct result. To ensure the perfect child.
It also makes him a fucking hypocrite, Evan thinks.
Barty hates it. Hates it more than he’s ever hated anything. Sometimes, late at night, when it’s just the two of them undercover of darkness, he tells him about it. He whispers about the way it creeps up on you, the way it latches on to every corner of your brain and fills it with a deep sludge that’s impossible to push through.
“You can still see, though.” Barty had murmured softly. “You can still think. You just can’t do anything about it.”
It’s just little things he’s forced to do, really. Parties, social events, dinners. Just something to sit through, his father making sure he doesn’t cause a scene.
But those add up.
“He’s getting longer with it,” Barty says, turning to face Evan on the bed. “3 days. I can’t- it’s all blurry. I can’t really remember any of it.”
“Maybe that's good,” Evan says after a moment.
Barty just shakes his head. “It feels like my lifes slipping away, and I wasn’t even there to watch it go. I can’t remember . It’s three entire days lost.”
“Come stay at mine, then.” Evan offers, as he always does.
“How’d you think that would go down?” Barty declines, as he always does. “He’ll put me under for an entire month or something when I come back. Not worth it.”
“I just-”
“Drop it, Rosier. It doesn’t matter.”
Always Rosier or Evan. Never baby. Never love.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Evan, still leaning over him, signs. “Is Dorcas-”
“Don’t.”
He frowns. “What am I supposed to talk about then?”
Barty shrugs, flashing that sharp grin. “Don’t.”
Evan leans down to kiss that look off his face and decides to take his advice.
---
That night, Regulus goes to see James. It’s been long enough, he supposes. The door to the come and go room swings open and James looks up from where he’s standing by the table. A ghost of a smile crosses his lips before it vanishes again.
Regulus lets out a breath, shutting the door behind him. He’s missed him, he realizes.
Regulus moves forwards and James-
James takes a step back.
Regulus closes his eyes briefly. It was bound to happen, he supposes. What, he doesn’t know.
Something.
This.
The Mark on his arm burns.
“What’s wrong?” He asks finally.
“I need you to tell me what happened that night.”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
James gives him a pleading look. “Reg.”
Regulus wraps his arms around himself, watching him cooly. “James.”
“Sirius’s scar. How did he get it?” James keeps himself at the other end of the room, posture stiff and uncomfortable.
The words send Regulus’s gut twisting with anxiety. “I told you-”
“No. I want- I want whatever you didn’t tell me. I want the truth.”
At that-
That just doesn’t make sense.
“What?” Regulus hisses. “I was literally under Veritaserum.”
James shrugs. “That can be resisted with a cure, for which you had all the ingredients right in front of you.”
“Why the fuck would I tell you everything I did, then?”
James sends a pained look up at the ceiling, like this isn’t going how he wanted it to. Regulus feels no pity- he thought James, at least, would trust him on this. “I talked to Sirius,” He says after a moment.
Regulus pauses. “And?”
“He says you’ve been able to throw off an Imperio since you were twelve.”
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
“And- he thinks that's what happened?” Regulus asks, but it comes out cracked and choked, because this simultaneously makes everything better and so much worse.
“He doesn’t seem to care.”
“He doesn’t know I was Imperioed,” Regulus says, because he certainly hasn’t told him, and he needs to get his facts straight.
James shakes his head. “I don’t think it’d matter either way. If you were, sounds like it wouldn’t make a difference, since you could’ve thrown it off.”
Regulus turns around, facing away from James. He just- he just needs a moment. Then he lets out a small chuckle, unable to help it.
“Reg?” James asks softly from behind him.
“He’s so fucking stupid,” Regulus manages, turning back around. “Oh my god. He thinks- he thinks our mother imperioed me from all the way across the room?”
James’s gaze stays wary, body still stiff. “Is that not what happened?”
Regulus brings up a hand, running it through his hair. “No.”
“Then-”
“My father did it. From behind. He had a wand up against my back, one Sirius probably couldn’t see.”
James’s face stays guarded, closed off, but there are cracks, and Regulus can see them widening. “So-”
“So. I’ve been able to resist Walburga’s curse since I was twelve. Orion- not so much. That was the first time he’d ever used it on me.”
James sucks in a shuddering breath, expression crashing into relief. “Oh. Fuck. Thank god.”
He takes some steps forward, but it’s Regulus’s turn to back up. James pauses. “You thought I’d do that voluntarily?” Regulus asks softly.
“No, I just didn’t know- I was confused-”
“But Sirius said that, and you immediately believed him? You immediately trusted that I’d hurt him so badly then lie to you about it?”
“No. I just needed to ask. I just needed to make sure.”
Regulus lets out a breath. “Because you didn’t trust me the first time. When I was under veriteserum, and told you I had no choice.”
James pauses, opening his mouth but not speaking. Regulus scoffs. “You assumed I made a cure and then didn’t say anything, just to lie to you more effectively?”
“I don’t know what I thought,” James says, eyes wide.
“Right.”
“Please, Regulus, I’m sorry. I was wrong. But I needed to make sure, right?”
Regulus says nothing as James walks up to him, tucking a curl behind his ear. “I needed to know.”
Regulus ducks his head, pressing his cheek into James’s palm, just barely. “I have to go,” He says after a second, because the waters are rising and he’s not sure he can keep them down this time.
“Reg-”
“I can’t- I have to-”
He turns and takes off, heart pounding as he runs up the stairs and down the halls. Sirius thought his mother was the one to cast the curse. That’s why he didn’t care if Regulus was Imperioed. That’s why-
He opens the door to the astronomy tower and goes to the window, leaning out into the night, taking deep gulps of cold fall air. The stars above him glint and turn, leaving him stranded on the ground below.
“Reg?”
The world has a cruel sense of humor, Regulus thinks. He’d laugh if it wasn’t so god damn awful. Really, it’s fucked up.
He hangs his head and doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t need to.
He knows that voice.
He's known it since the cradle.
“Sirius.”