On Begged and Borrowed Time

Don't read the last page

But I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared, and you're turning away

I want your midnights

But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

December 27th, 1976

Remus is not— well, he’s not the best with feelings. He feels a lot of them, obviously, but verbally expressing them? It’s never been his forté. He doubts it ever will be. As unpredictable as his moods can be, there’s a single common denominator: he’s going to suffer in silence. Or brood. Whatever term you prefer.

Despite this, Remus knows there are times in his life where he has to suck it up and be the one to just— let it all out. Sometimes, you have to pull your weight. Sometimes, you have to compromise your comfort to resolve an issue.

He’s rarely put in situations where this is necessary, seeing as most of his friends are rather good at expressing how they feel without shame. Take James for example— he wears his heart on his sleeve and doesn’t care who knows it. Or Lily, who might actually enjoy confrontation. So, considering this, Remus rarely has to pull his weight when it comes to emotions. Not when he has others willing to do it for him.

However, some situations and people require it. He happens to be in one right now. It goes like this:

“I don’t want to see you right now,” Sirius hisses, keeping his back to Remus. “You and Regulus— you’ve been buddy-buddy all break, which is fine, but— but fucking with me about this? It’s not okay, Remus. It’s not funny. It’s—,” Sirius’ shoulders seem to fold into his body as he speaks, and he pauses, taking a shuddering breath. “I told you what I am and you ran. And now— now this?”

Remus' heart pounds in his chest as he stares at Sirius' dark hair falling in waves over his shoulders. “It’s not like that, Sirius, I promise. He wasn’t fucking with you and I’m not either. I— I shouldn’t have let him say that, but I was nervous, okay? I was scared and we’ve been drinking and—”

Sirius turns around to look at Remus, his brows pulled together and his eyes bright. “You— That was real? That wasn’t some kind of joke?”

“Sirius, no,” Remus exclaims, edging closer to him. He holds his hands out like he’s begging. Maybe he is. “I wouldn’t do that to you— or anyone."

“But…” Sirius pauses, biting his lip. “You ran away. In the greenhouses, when I told you, you ran away.”

“That’s because I was scared and really high,” Remus explains, desperate for Sirius to understand. “I mean, I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared because, well, I’ve fancied you for just about as long as I’ve known you.”

“But you ran away,” Sirius repeats after a beat of silence, visibly confused. “Why weren’t you happy?”

“Because I had accepted that I would never have you because it just wasn’t in the cards,” Remus whispers. “When you told me that you were gay, to me at that moment, it just meant that it was an option, technically, but would never happen because I didn’t think— I never thought you would feel that way about me. So, I was scared and hurt and I ran.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius moans, covering his face with his hands. “James told me to make it easy for you and I couldn’t even do that— I just, I always make things harder for you, don’t I, Moony? Even when I don’t mean to.”

“What?” Remus questions. “What did James tell you?”

Sirius peeks through his fingers before lowering his hands. “I went to him after you left the greenhouses, we had been fighting, but I had to talk to him. I was so scared when you ran like that— I thought you were… I don’t know, disgusted or something.”

Remus' stomach drops as his guilt builds the more Sirius retells the situation from his perspective. “What did James tell you?”

“He laughed, I think,” Sirius wrinkles his nose before dropping his gaze and looking back to Remus. “But he told me you were mad about me and that I needed to tell you. That I had the chance to make life easy for you and I should take it.”

Remus lets that confession sit between the two of them for a moment. In a way, it fills him with a warm fondness, because of course James would see it that way and tell Sirius that. On the other hand, it makes his hackles rise a bit, knowing that James and Sirius are aware of the ways life has been cruel to him and want to— make it easier for him. He’s never wanted pity. Not from his parents, not from his professors, and definitely not from his friends. His life might be unfair in ways that are unique to him, and arguably worse than the average teenager, but he doesn’t want or need special treatment. He can handle the throes of life and its experiences just as anyone else can. Perhaps even better, considering all he’s been through.

“You don’t need to make things easier for me, Sirius,” Remus responds, quietly. “I’m fine.”

“I know you don’t need me to, or want me to,” Sirius shakes his head. “But I want to. Because I care about you. I want you to be happy and I want things to be easy for you. I’d wish that for anyone I care about, not just you. Not just because of—”

“Because of what’s happened to me,” Remus finishes for him. 

“Because of what’s happened to you,” Sirius nods, his voice low. 

Again, silence stands in between them, like an unwanted audience member, laughing at them. It doesn’t just stand— it looms. It casts its shadow on them, daunting and dark. For a minute, Remus wonders if this will be what finally brings him down— this silence between him and Sirius in a time like this.

“I think there’s still time,” Sirius says thoughtfully, breaking the silence. Shedding starlight on the darkness and shattering it. “Time for me to make it easier for you, I mean.”

“Sirius,” Remus starts. “I don’t need you to—”

“I think I’ve fancied you for as long as I can remember too,” Sirius interrupts, his eyes locked on Remus’. “I just didn’t realize what it was then. I remember meeting all of you that day on the train, but you— meeting you was different. I remember how funny James was and how easy he was to talk to. I remember thinking Pete was a bit of a nerd, but he was kind and clever. You, though?” Sirius shakes his head, smiling slightly. “I remember the way my heart sped up when we made eye contact. I can remember the way your hair fell over your forehead and the way your freckles looked like they had been dusted on your nose. And your scars— I remember thinking they were so cool and so— so beautiful. Even at eleven, just minutes into knowing you, I knew. I knew all of these things about you.”

“Sirius,” Remus tries, weakly.

“No, Remus, let me finish,” Sirius raises a hand slightly, to quiet him. “I can remember how much I wanted to impress you. I wanted you to see me— to want to be around me. I remember hearing you speak for the first time— I had never heard a Welsh accent before, so at first, I thought it was just that, that I liked how it sounded, but then I realized it was just you. I just liked it when you spoke. That’s never stopped, not even after that first day on the train. Even now, I could spend the whole day listening to you talk and laugh. I can never get enough of you.”

Sirius swallows, wetting his lips before he continues. “I know that in the past, I haven’t made things easier for you. I know I’ve actively made things harder for you and honestly, Moony? It’s probably my biggest regret, hurting you when I have. Especially when I remember that all you’ve ever done is make my life better. I know that I’m not half good enough for you, but for some reason, according to you, and James, and Regulus, you’re mad about me. So I just hope that you’ll let me try— to make things easier for you, to care about you, to make your life better like you have mine.”

“Sirius,” Remus tries again. His heart is pounding at this point, his palms sweaty and his face pink.

“Remus,” Sirius says, “I’ve always known all of this about you and how I feel about you. The difference between now and then is that I thought everyone thought that about you— and in a lot of ways they do, I think. Anyone with eyes and a functioning mind can recognize that you’re special, but with me, it’s different. I realized, finally, that I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you, Remus.”

This time, Remus doesn’t bother with Sirius’ name. He just rushes forward, closing the space between them and capturing his face in his hands. Remus takes a moment to scan Sirius’ face and take him in— his eyes, his cheekbones, his lips, the straight line of his nose. Then he leans down, matching Sirius’ height, and crashes their lips together.

First kisses are usually awkward, and that’s to be expected, honestly. It’s a first-time thing, a new experience that requires adjustment. Remus has experienced it plenty of times. He experienced it with Gideon Prewett, the time they kissed at a party. He’s even experienced with Lily when they were bored enough to try kissing each other.

Kissing Sirius, though? Kissing Sirius isn’t awkward and it doesn’t need any adjustment. To Remus, it’s like coming up for air when he didn’t realize he was suffocating. To Remus, it’s like finding a piece of himself he never knew was missing.

It’s then when he’s kissing Sirius in his bedroom at Potter Cottage, the smell of leather, cigarette smoke, and rosewood all over him, that Remus realizes that it’s okay to let people make things easier for you. Sometimes, when you’re treated in a way that makes things easier, it’s not because of pity, or because they think you’re weak. It’s because they care. It’s because you’re something precious to them— something that they want to handle with care because you’re important to them.

Sometimes, you think you’re the one carrying the weight, and maybe you are for part of it, but then you realize that you’ve been sharing the load the whole time. And the best part of it is that it feels good to share that with someone when you want to.

Right now, with his hands in Sirius’ hair and his tongue in his mouth, Remus realizes all he’s ever wanted, as long as he’s known him, is to share that with Sirius.

For once in his life, Remus gets something he wants without it hurting.

—

December 28th, 1976

When James wakes up the day after Regulus’ sixteenth birthday, he forgets everything that’s happened for a moment. He’s got a slight headache and his mouth is ridiculously dry, but Regulus is nestled into his side, warm and comfortable. So, when he first wakes up, he just stretches slightly and lets a lazy smile spread across his face. Then, he remembers. Sirius and Remus. Regulus’ meddling.

“Oh fuck,” James whispers, his eyes popping open. 

“What?” Regulus questions sharply, very suddenly wide awake. James turns to him, slightly startled he was even awake— or awoken by James saying that.“What is it?”

“Sirius and Remus!” 

The two of them stare at each other a moment, wide-eyed and messy-haired before Regulus breaks into a burst of laughter. It bubbles out of him and soon enough, James is watching as he has a full-on giggling fit, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

James gapes at him, a smile pulling on the corners of his mouth as well. “Are you— are you actually giggling right now?”

Regulus attempts to school his face back into something neutral, but he fails miserably, breaking into laughter once again. He shakes his head, putting his face in his hands. He turns to look a James, eyes bright. “I don’t mean to laugh, but well, it is a bit funny, isn’t it? Why the fuck did I do that?”

“It’s funny,” James admits, grabbing his glasses off the bedside table. He puts them on and looks back to Regulus, hesitating. “I don’t want to make you feel bad, Reg, but I hope it didn’t mess with anything. Those two, they’re so— complicated. I don’t think it did, but I don’t know. I’m a bit antsy about it, I suppose.”

Regulus’ brow furrows and that scowl of his slides right back into place. He doesn’t seem angry with James, just a bit worried now. Likely thinking about the implications of what he did. James can’t help but wonder how Regulus would have reacted if someone had done that to him. He nods to the door. “Go check on them, James.”

So, James goes. He slips out of Regulus’ bedroom and pads quietly down the hallway to Remus’ room. When no one is in there, he gets a bit nervous but goes to Sirius’ room next.

It’s early still, morning light just barely breaking through the windows. James carefully opens the door, in case Sirius is still sleeping, which in all likelihood he is.

And well, once James’ eyes focus in the hazy darkness of Sirius’ room, he takes a sharp intake of breath because it’s clear Sirius is still asleep, but he’s not just sleeping. No, he’s sleeping with Remus. As in, curled into his chest, mouth slack and hair wild over the pillows. And there’s Remus, enveloping Sirius, who very suddenly looks very tiny when held like this by Moony.

Biting back a breathless laugh, James slowly backs out of the bedroom and quietly closes the door before practically flying back to Regulus’ bedroom.

Regulus looks up at him sharply once he bursts through the door, his mouth a thin line. He arches a brow at James in question.

“Well, Reg, I have to say that you got lucky,” James says, chuckling. “Your little truth bomb last night actually worked. Nice one, love.”

James watches as slowly, and beautifully, a genuine and wide smile spreads across Regulus’ face. He’s happy for them. James is happy too. Not just because of Sirius and Remus though. For a lot of reasons.

Sometimes, when life feels good, it’s hard to believe or remember that a war wages outside his doorstep. It’s even harder to grapple with the truth of it all— each person he loves, and himself, will be forced to experience it in some way. Contribute to it. Each day that passes, even the good ones, are just days slowly shaving off the distance between war and his life as he knows and loves it.

Time is passing and things are falling in place, just to inevitably fall apart in some way. James feels his heart clench with affection as Regulus flops back onto the bed and breathes out a sigh of relief. 

They’re living on borrowed time. James just wants a little bit more.

—

Those In-Between-Days, 1976

Following Boxing Day and Regulus’ birthday, James’ house is a flurry of activity. People are in and out, including his parents. It’s clear that people are making up for time lost following the holidays if the amount of them is anything to go on.

The days in between Christmas and the New Year are some of the most exciting James has gotten to experience for a single reason— much of it’s Order business. James has always been interested in being like his parents, which includes being involved in the Order of the Phoenix, but it wasn’t until this break, being exposed to it more heavily, that he realized it was what he wanted to do. What he needs to do. 

Supporting the war effort is how James is going to spend his time post-Hogwarts. Hopefully even before that, if he can swing it. He remembers at the beginning of the term, he couldn’t understand how Frank could give up Quidditch to focus on Auror applications. He gets it now. He’s going to do the same thing, just with the Order. Quidditch will still be there after the war.

—

As anxious as James is to know exactly what happened between Sirius and Remus, he doesn’t seek Sirius out about it. He knows Sirius will tell him, he’s just giving him space and time to do it when he’s ready.

James did assume that it would happen a bit quicker than it does— he assumed that the very next day Sirius would come to him and tell him everything, but he doesn’t. They’re not avoiding each other or anything like that, they just don’t have a moment alone between his parents, Remus, Regulus, and the frequent Order members. Sirius doesn’t seek him out and James doesn’t either.

It’s strange, really, the way that they’re passing each other and they both know that there’s something to be said. James doesn’t want to think that Sirius is avoiding him on purpose, but a part of him wonders if he’s being minorly punished for keeping his relationship with Regulus from Sirius for months. It’s not as if it’d be completely unwarranted.

So, when Sirius finally approaches James three days after the fact, James is just about ready to explode from the anticipation. In all honesty, it seems like Sirius is as well.

Sirius bursts into James’ room, a look of resolve on his face. James turns to look at him, in the middle of folding laundry Bea just washed, and raises his eyebrows.

Sirius breathes out a sigh of relief. “You’re alone.”

“Yeah, I am,” James laughs. “Got something to tell me?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Sirius shakes his head, disbelievingly.

“Go on then,” James nods as he sits down on his bed, patting the place beside him.

Sirius takes a seat, breathing in deeply and exhaling explosively before turning to him. “Remus and I— we’re… together. Is that the right way to say it? I don’t know, but whatever the right thing is, that’s what we are.”

James grins. “I think it’s however you want to say it, honestly. That’s great though, how did it end up happening?”

Sirius grins back, practically buzzing in place. “Well, after Regulus did all that— which you can tell him I said a big fuck you and thanks for that— we talked. I think Remus was going to try to tell me how he felt, y’know? Get all into it and lay it on the table. I thought about letting him too, but then I remembered how you told me I should try to make things easier for him if I could. So I did.”

“Good,” James says, encouragingly. “What did you say?”

“Well,” Sirius pauses, smiling at James sheepishly. “I guess I just laid it all on the table. I just— I told him how I feel. How I’ve felt it since the day I met him, I just didn’t realize it. I apologized too, for not making things easier in the past. I told him I know I’ve actually made his life harder, in some ways. I promised him I’d do my best to not do that anymore.”

“I’m happy for you, Pads,” James says, reaching out to tug on a lock of Sirius’ hair. “You guys deserve it. You really do.”

Sirius smiles at him, so large and bright and undeniably happy that James’ heart soars. He knows he hasn’t spent as much time with Sirius recently and he feels bad about it. Maybe if he had, this would’ve happened sooner. Maybe Sirius and Remus would’ve had even more time together.

“I wanted to apologize to you too,” Sirius tells him, his smile fading. “For reacting the way I did about you and Reggie. Y’know, the punching and all of that. It wasn’t fair. I’m happy for you guys too, even if it’s a bit strange. I mean, Regulus is my little brother and well, you’re my brother too. It’s practically incest, isn’t it?”

James bursts out laughing. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”

Sirius shoots him a lopsided grin. “I really am sorry, though.”

James shakes his head and loops his arm around Sirius, squeezing him. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, mate. Keeping it from you— that wasn’t fair either and I’m sorry. You’re my best friend. I hope you know that I wanted to tell you, and I trusted you to tell you, I just wanted to respect Regulus’  wishes, you know?”

“No, I get that,” Sirius nods. “I think you’re good for him, especially with everything going on. I also know how he can be— he’s a stubborn little wanker.”

“You two are alike in that way,” James teases.

“Oh, don’t say that,” Sirius shudders. “Don’t compare us when you’re busy defiling him most of the time. I can’t handle it.”

“How do you know he hasn’t been defiling me?” James asks, raising his eyebrows at Sirius.

Sirius pretends to wretch. “Oh Merlin, don’t say that. I’m begging you. Anything but that.”

“So you’d prefer to hear how I defile him?” James laughs.

“I’m going to start crying,” Sirius informs him, straight-faced.

James laughs. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. But you’ll be defiling Remus soon enough, or maybe the other way around. I guess in the end it’s a collaborative effort, really.”

“How do you know we haven’t started already?” Sirius arches a brow.

“Well, if you have, congratulations,” James says. “Let me know if you need any pointers.”

“Nope,” Sirius shakes his head. “Absolutely not. I do not need to know how you defile my baby brother and use it on Remus.”

James laughs again and even Sirius breaks out into a grin. Flopping back onto the bed, Sirius looks at James. James smiles. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Sirius says, gently. “This term— it’s been absolute chaos, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” James agrees. “In good and bad ways.”

Sirius nods. “I can’t believe… It’s hard to believe that Alphard is gone.”

James sits up. “I’m really sorry about that, Sirius. I know how much it meant to you two got close.”

“It feels like my fault,” Sirius admits, his voice quiet.

“It’s not,” James shakes his head. “Sirius, it’s not your fault at all.”

“It probably is though,” Sirius tells him, his voice shaking. “Reg and I, we talked about it. There’s no point in denying the fact that his involvement with me, or the two of us, had something to do with him being attacked. My family— they’re so involved with all of that. The murders, the disappearances. Anything that has to do with the Death Eaters. Even if they hadn’t planned on killing Alphard, I know that him being there was a bonus. Another way to get back at me.”

A pit of dread forms in James’ stomach, weighing him down. He knows Sirius is right. The Blacks are brutal— vicious, uncaring. He’s never encountered people so eager to hurt others. It’s an incredible feat on both Sirius and Regulus’ part that they wound up the way they are. Even though they both have their flaws, they’ve got big hearts and they’re fiercely loyal to the people they love. There’s no way to deny that. James won’t let anyone say otherwise, ever.

“That’s their fault, Sirius,” James murmurs. “They chose to kill him. They chose to attack people in Diagon Alley on Boxing Day. That choice— it was theirs entirely. It has nothing to do with you. You didn’t tell them to do it. You didn’t help them. You would’ve stopped it if you could have. Your family is not you. You’re not responsible for their crimes, no matter how much they hurt you.”

Sirius nods, leaning into James. He rests his head on his shoulder and sniffles. “You’re my best friend too, James.”

“I know, Sirius,” James whispers, holding him. “I know.”

—

December 31st, 1976

New Year’s Eve at the Potter’s isn’t nearly as hectic as the Christmas Eve Party was. This party is smaller and very clearly made up of members from the Order of the Phoenix, at least from what Regulus can tell. He’s never been to an Order meeting for obvious reasons— none of the boys have— but Potter Cottage seems to serve as some kind of hub for Order members. For the remainder of break following Boxing Day, people have been in and out of the Floo, stopping in to speak to Effie or Monty privately, get healed, or even just have a quick bite to eat. Most of them have been kind or ignored the boys entirely, but some of them have cast suspicious looks toward Sirius and Regulus. Whatever. It’s to be expected at this point, really.

Anyway, things might not be hectic, but they’re just as lively and Regulus is actually having a good time so far. James mentioned that some of the Gryffindor girls would be attending, but they haven’t arrived yet. Dorcas and Barty haven’t shown up yet either. 

“Have you ever had a New Year’s kiss?” James asks, taking a sip of his drink and peering at Regulus over the brim of it.

“Yes,” Regulus replies, taking a drink himself. He arches a brow at James. “Have you?”

“New Year's Kiss? No,” James laughs, shaking his head. “I’m at this every year and it’s not like there’s really been anyone to kiss. Although, I guess I could have kissed Sirius or Remus. Pete too.”

Regulus squints at James. “You’d kiss my brother? And Peter?”

“Well, probably not,” James admits, grinning. “Y’know, interesting you didn’t question me about Remus.”

“Remus is rather fit,” Regulus says, primly. He scans the party. “It’s the best choice out of the bunch.”

James just about spits his drink out, gaping at Regulus. “You think Remus is fit?”

“You don’t?” Regulus questions, his lips twitching. 

“I—,” James opens and closes his mouth. He tilts his head slightly to the side, clearly considering. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. I didn’t really— think about guys before you if I’m being honest.”

“Big surprise there,” Regulus murmurs.

“Really?” James asks. “Did you think I was—”

“No, James,” Regulus laughs. “I didn’t. At all. I mean, I don’t think anyone can forget how you pined for Lily Evans for years.”

“Oh,” James looks a little bit embarrassed now. It piques Regulus’ interest. They’ve never really talked about it. Regulus can’t deny that he’s curious about all of that. James was rather devoted to Lily, at least to those watching. At times, Regulus still wonders how it could’ve faded so easily.

“You’ve never said much about that,” Regulus says, testing the waters. He traces his finger around the brim of his glass before raising his eyes back to James in question.

“About Lily?” James asks, his brows furrowing behind his glasses. Regulus nods.

“I guess I didn’t think there was much to say,” James admits after a moment, scanning Regulus’ face. “I did fancy her for a while, I think, but at some point it became something that was expected of me, doing all that I did. It was a bit fun, too, all the extravagant things I’d think up. Then, I just didn’t think about her very much at all. It just— went away, I guess.”

Regulus hums thoughtfully. “When did that happen?”

“When you showed up on my doorstep,” James replies without hesitation. “You were all I really thought about after that.”

Regulus feels his face pink slightly at James’ confession. He’s so— open about everything. It would take Regulus about five years to get himself to so easily admit something like that, but James has no shame. He doesn’t mind letting people know how he thinks and feels. It’s nice, really. Regulus appreciates it.

“Wasn’t my best moment,” Regulus says, keeping his voice light. He hasn’t talked about that night he showed up on the Potter’s doorstep, at least not since the beginning of term. He still feels a burning shame for it. Sometimes, when he tries to fall asleep at night, he can still hear his family’s voices taunting him as he cried on the floor, begging them to stop. “Quite a dramatic entrance.”

“Don’t,” James interjects, pursing his lips. He shakes his head, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Glancing back at Regulus he says, “Don’t joke about that, Reg. It was— it was awful. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it— how you looked and how I felt when I saw you. I could’ve killed them, in that moment. I really could have.”

Regulus is quiet, looking at James. He’s never heard him talk that before. James is typically a half-glass-full type of guy. Regulus can count on him to see the bright side. Sometimes, when James can find the good in everyone and everything, it furthers Regulus’ negative self-perception— the idea that there’s something wrong with him. Since he can rarely do that. Hearing James admit that he wanted to do something as intensive as kill his family for hurting him, well it probably shouldn’t, but it makes him like James a little bit more. 

“I’m sorry,” Regulus says, quietly. 

“You shouldn’t be apologizing for anything related to that night,” James sighs. He looks at Regulus a moment before, he smiles crookedly. “I will say, that is when it all started, though. Remember those dreams I mentioned?” He waits for Regulus to nod in affirmation. “Well, that was the first night I dreamt about you.”

“What was it?” Regulus asks, almost desperately. He likes it when James talks about first having found interest in Regulus. It makes him feel giddy, almost. Special.

James hesitates, opening his mouth without speaking. “It was a bit jumbled. Mostly your eyes. And your hair.”

Regulus can tell James isn’t mentioning something, but he can’t press further because just as he’s about to, he sees Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, and Mary MacDonald over James’ shoulder.

—

“When did it start for you?” Sirius asks, turning his head away from Remus to blow cigarette smoke out of the window. 

“When did what start?” Remus asks absentmindedly as he rolls another cigarette. He glances up at Sirius, watching the way smoke lazily curls around his face. “If she catches you doing that she’s going to kill you, you know.”

Sirius grimaces, putting his cigarette out in the glass of water on the windowsill. They’re in Sirius’ room upstairs and the party is going on downstairs. They should really go down, but since their little— confessional the other day, they’ve been holing up together whenever the opportunity arises.

“When did you start,” Sirius hesitates, biting his lip. “You know, fancying me?”

“Oh,” Remus chuckles. He pulls out of his cigarette case and tucks the new one away before he answers. “I’d say if I really thought about it, it’d probably be like you said, as soon as I met you. I don’t think I realized it then, though. I’d say I realized it in third year.”

“Third year,” Sirius repeats, thoughtfully. “What happened in third year?”

“You dated Emmeline Vance,” Remus informs him, smiling slightly. “Unfortunately, I was rather devastated. Couldn’t figure it out at first, but it didn’t take too long to get to the bottom of it. That was also the year I kissed Lily. That made things pretty clear.”

“You kissed Lily?!” Sirius gapes. “Does Prongs know?!”

“No,” Remus shoots him a look. “And he won’t. At least, not for a long time. Anyway, it wasn’t anything. We were bored. Neither of us liked it.”

“Merlin,” Sirius breathes out, leaning back against the wall. “How’d you manage to keep that a secret for so long?”

Remus shrugs. “The whole werewolf thing makes secrets pretty easy to keep. Especially one as inconsequential as that.”

“Huh,” Sirius frowns, his brow wrinkling.

“What?” Remus questions.

Sirius shakes his head, grinning at Remus again. He hops down from the windowsill before smoothing his robes down. Mrs. Potter didn’t insist on full dress robes this time, but it’s still a somewhat traditional, festive party. 

Remus watches as Sirius makes his way over to Remus slowly, almost shyly. He stops just in front of him, their knees almost touching. 

“Should we go down now?” Remus asks. He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. It’s still a bit of a shock, the fact that they’re something now. 

“We should,” Sirius agrees, but he doesn’t budge. He just stares at Remus like he’s waiting for something. Or maybe considering something. 

“Something on your mind?” Remus questions, amused.

Sirius tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, staring down at Remus as he stands above him. “I was just thinking, I mean, who knows if we’ll be alone at midnight, right? With everybody here— the girls and Regulus’ friends. I just thought maybe we should— kiss now, to be safe, yeah?”

Remus takes a moment to pretend like he’s considering this before he nods. He reaches out and pulls Sirius toward him by his robes and onto his lap. Sirius grins and wraps his arms around Remus' neck, a pretty blush spreading across his face and up his neck.

“You know,” Remus whispers, leaning in, “You don’t have to make up excuses to kiss me. You just can. Whenever you want.”

“It wasn’t an excuse,” Sirius argues, breathily. “It’s called thinking ahead.”

Remus hums. “Okay, Pads. Whatever you say. Either way, you can kiss me. Why don’t you go ahead and do that?”

Sirius doesn’t stop to think of an excuse or argument this time. He just leans in, kissing Remus like it’s all he’s meant to do.

—

By the time Sirius and Remus make their way downstairs, it looks as if the party has turned into a Gryffindor-Slytherin inter-house coalition with James, Marlene, Mary, and Lily on one side of a circle and Regulus, Barty, and Dorcas on the other. Or maybe some kind of pre-duel formation. Depends on who you ask.

“Oi!” Sirius shouts, running down the last few steps. “What’s going on here?!”

They all turn to look at him, with varying responses. The majority of the Gryffindors, and Dorcas, laugh and grin at him. Lily, Regulus, and Barty on the other hand seem to roll their eyes in unison . Sirius narrows his eyes at three of them but doesn’t acknowledge them aside from that. Primly, he steps forward to hug Mary and Marlene, chatting with them a bit about break before making his way to Regulus, Barty, and Lily. Quite the trio, honestly. Never thought he’d see the three of them together and agreeing.

“You know, Evans, I’d expect the eye-roll from my brother and Crouch, but you? You’ll be a Slytherin yet.”

“As if that’s a bad thing,” Crouch mutters, squinting at Sirius. Sirius happily ignores him.

“She gave me mittens for Christmas,” Regulus reminds Sirius. He arches a brow. “Have you ever considered that she might just like me better?”

“Leave her alone,” Remus says, nudging Sirius with his shoulder. He smiles warmly at Lily. “Lils. Happy New Year.”

“And you shut it,” Sirius says, waggling a finger at Regulus mockingly. “I’ll have you know that Lily Evans loves me. And I also got mittens from her.”

“Yes, Sirius, but you got mittens after four years of me knowing you. Regulus got them after a few months. Anyway, Remus,” Lily smiles. She leans in for a hug, stepping onto her tiptoes to place a kiss to his cheek. “Happy New Year! How has break treated the two of you?”

“We’ve been well, for the most part,” Remus nods. He looks to Sirius in question. “Haven’t we?”

“Yeah— just peachy, really,” Sirius nods, feeling his face flush under Remus’ gaze. 

Lily’s lips twitch for a moment before her face smoothes again. She reaches out and gives Sirius’ arm a light squeeze. “I heard about your uncle in the Prophet. I’m really sorry, Sirius.”

“Oh,” Sirius says, a bit startled. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate it— he does. It’s just that, well, he’s been blocking it out a bit. Or maybe a lot. This is the last bit of time he’ll have with Regulus for a while. At least, really have with him. And of course, there’s the whole Moony thing. He plans on getting around to mourning and all of that, he’s just been putting it off.

It’s not like him, hiding away emotions like that. That’s more Regulus’ shtick. Maybe even Remus’. However, something you’ll learn practicing Occlumency, no matter how unrefined it is, is how easy it can be to store things for later, otherwise untouched and unfelt.

“Thanks, Lily,” Sirius murmurs, smiling at her weakly. 

“We’re here for you,” Lily tells him, her green eyes wide and earnest. “All of us. I know I can give you a hard time sometimes, but it’s true. Always.”

“Thanks, Lily, really,” Sirius smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m grateful. For all of you.”

“Should we crack on then?” James asks, rubbing his hands together. “This is a party, after all.”

“Too right you are, James,” Marlene grins. “Drinks?”

James smirks at Marlene. “Drinks it is, McKinnon.”

—

Dorcas isn’t really sure why Potter Cottage is referred to as a cottage. The word cottage implies that it’s quaint and small. 

There’s nothing about this house that’s quaint or small. It’s basically a manor. Dorcas doesn’t mind that it’s a manor. In all honesty, she probably prefers that is, especially for a party. She’s just a little bit confused as to why it’s referred to this way. 

“Probably some semantics thing,” Regulus shrugs, sipping his drink. “You know, the Potters are purebloods. They’re just different than a lot of them. Probably don’t want to flash their wealth around with something like ‘Potter Manor’.”

“Isn’t that a bit hypocritical?” Dorcas wrinkles her nose. “Pretending to live in a cottage when you’re actually a powerful, wealthy, pureblood family?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Regulus replies. “I mean, it’s no secret that the Potters are wealthy, or pureblood, or powerful. Like I said, it’s semantics.”

“Personally, I was rather pleasantly surprised to see there weren’t going to be 100 people crammed into a cottage,” Barty sniffs. “Thanks for inviting me, by the way, Reg. My dad wanted me to go to some Ministry Gala with him and my mum. Wouldn’t let me invite any of you. When he heard thePotters invited me to their New Year's Party— well, he was disgustingly delighted. Fucking ridiculous, honestly.”

“The Potters are well-liked,” Regulus says. “You should thank James, not me. It was his idea.”

“James wanted us to come?” Dorcas asks, surprised. She sneaks a glance over where he’s chatting to Marlene by the food. “Did he say why?”

“He wanted me to be able to see my friends,” Regulus waves a hand in the air. “Have… fun. You know, very Potter-y reasoning.”

“Hm,” Dorcas puzzles. Her eyes wander over to James and Marlene again, her gaze lingering on the back of the blonde’s head. Her long hair falls in waves down her back, rather than the braid or ponytail she typically wears. 

“You’re up to something,” Regulus squints at her, drawing her attention to him.

“Is that what’s going on?” Barty questions, crossing his arms and leaning up against the wall. “I knew something was off, just couldn’t manage to figure out what it was.”

“It’s nothing, ” Dorcas hisses. “And don’t say that around here. Us being up to something sounds much worse than any of them being up to something.” 

“Paranoid,” Barty sings, flashing her a grin. 

“Another clear sign of being up to something,” Regulus says, his lips twitching as he nods at Barty. He turns back to Dorcas. “Don’t worry. Whatever it is, we’ll cover for you. Or help you. Whichever you prefer.”

“I don’t need you to cover for me— or help me,” Dorcas shakes her head, laughing. “It’s nothing.”

Regulus gives her a long look before retreating quietly. Barty and Dorcas exchange a look and shrug at each other. He’s got a lot going on. He can take the time to get some air if he wants.

As the night continues, Dorcas’ eyes continue to find their way to Marlene, whether it's her passing by, dancing with the other girls, or laughing across the room. More times than not, she catches Regulus watching her stare, his gaze curious.

Regulus has always been good at keeping secrets from Dorcas. We’ll see how long she lasts attempting the same.

—

When Regulus finds Sirius that night, he’s out in the garden leaning against a tree. It’s dark out in the country where the Potters live, not like London. It’s great for star gazing.

Regulus has always been quiet, and stealthy without the intention of it, so Sirius doesn’t notice him until he’s standing right next to him.

“ Shit , Regulus,” Sirius jumps, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

“Sorry,” Regulus says, quietly. 

Sirius sighs, opening his eyes again. Regulus is looking up at the sky, just like Sirius had been, but his expression is inscrutable. Sirius wishes— he wishes Regulus would tell him what he’s thinking, or feeling. Anything. 

The thing is, Sirius could just ask Regulus. He knows this. “Reggie, what’s on your mind?” Sirius could say. Or, “Regulus, are you doing okay with everything?”

He could ask those things, and so much more. He knows this, okay? The thing is, he won’t. Sirius knows he won’t. Maybe can’t. 

Sirius and Regulus have gotten closer this year in comparison to the last, but it’s nothing compared to how it was when they were children. When they were just kids, growing up together in that wretched house with a common enemy, they were inseparable. Practically melded together. They shared a mind, or a soul, or something of that variation. Kind of like the way he is with James now. 

Sirius doesn’t think they’ll ever get it back and it makes him sad. There’s no point in denying that at this point. Losing Regulus while he’s still right there in front of him is hard and confusing and painful. A lot of the time, he wonders if Regulus feels the same way. He could just ask, after all. He won’t. It’s not like Regulus will either.

“I really am sorry,” Regulus says, breaking the silence between them. Sirius turns his head to look at him, but Regulus is still staring up at the stars, his eyes swirling with the light of them. “I shouldn’t have said that, on my birthday.”

“Oh,” Sirius breathes, surprised. “Reggie, that’s fine. Don’t worry about that. It worked out in the end. Maybe not the best way to have gone about it— but no, it’s fine.”

“I don’t know if it is,” Regulus murmurs, squinting at the stars. “Fine, that is.”

“There are bigger things to worry about,” Sirius says carefully.

Regulus hums in response, still not meeting Sirius’ gaze. His mouth is twisted and Sirius knows without looking that his reproachful look is directed at the family stars. Maybe even Sirius’ in particular.

“Are you nervous about having to go back to school?”

Regulus glances at Sirius out of the corner of his eye before answering. “School will be fine. Different, but it won’t be the worst of what’s to come.”

That’s true, Sirius knows, but he doesn’t know if he’s come to terms with what Regulus is tasked with. He’s not sure if Regulus has either— aside from a momentary break in the library he’s been so stoic about it all. Sirius can’t tell if it’s a typical case of Regulus or if he’s ignoring it entirely. He wants so desperately to help him but doesn’t know how. 

“Everything is going to change,” Sirius mutters. “Not the way I’d like to start the New Year, admittedly.”

Regulus lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. I don’t know— I don’t know if things will ever be the same after this. I don’t think they will be.

Sirius furrows his brow. Sure, the war will be hard, but if all goes to plan then Regulus will help end it. They can recover after that, can’t they? Regulus is on the right side of things. They’ll be alright.

As if he can read Sirius’ mind, Regulus responds in kind. His voice is quiet when he finally turns to look at Sirius. “I’m going to have to do terrible things, you know.”

“I know that, Reggie,” Sirius murmurs. “But in the end, you’re going to be doing something good. Something important. You’ll be able to change the tide of the war.”

“Maybe,” Regulus allows. “But people won’t know that for a long time. Even then, who knows if they’ll forgive me?”

“They will,” Sirius insists, desperate for his brother to understand. “Don’t think like that, Regulus. No one will be able to deny your importance in ending the war if everything works out.”

“If everything works out,” Regulus mutters. “People are going to think I’m awful, Sirius. You’re not going to be able to tell them otherwise.”

Sirius hesitates a moment, feeling a set of words rising in his chest. He swallows thickly. “No, I won’t be able to defend you, but I’ll know they’re wrong. And— And I’ll still love you, Regulus. I’ll love you through it.”

“Will you?” Regulus asks, softly.

“Yes, Regulus, of course,” Sirius tells him, earnestly. “I think I would anyway, even if what you were doing was real. You’re my brother. I don’t know how to not love you.”

And for the first time throughout this conversation, Regulus seems to react. Sirius watches as emotion bleeds through his sharp gaze before his eyelids flutter closed. Exhaling a shaky breath, Regulus thanks his brother.

And what is he really thanking me for , really, Sirius wonders? Being the brother I always should have been? Doing the thing I was made for?

__

There are a few things to know about Dorcas Meadowes. They are as such:

1. She’s confident. Always has been, always will be.
2. She gets what she wants. Always has, always will.
3. No one and nothing scares her. Never has, never will.

With these three traits taken into consideration, you’d think she’d do very well talking to the girl she fancies. You’d think she’d be absolutely smashing it, wouldn’t you?

Well, she’s not. As she speaks to Marlene McKinnon at the Potter’s New Year’s party, Dorcas realizes that she, in fact, possesses none of the above traits. She’s not confident. She does not get what she wants. She is scared of everything. Especially talking to Marlene.

“You’re a beater, aren’t you McKinnon?” Dorcas asks. Belatedly, she realizes it was a rather stupid question. Of course she’s a beater, and of course Dorcas would know. They’ve played each other a hundred times. 

“I am,” Marlene nods, seemingly unfazed by the stupidity of Dorcas’ question. “You are too, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Dorcas repeats and takes a sip of her drink, watching Marlene through her eyelashes as she does. Swallowing, she continues to speak. “You’re very good at it, I could watch you play for hours I think. Quidditch, that is.”

“Oh,” Marlene flushes, smiling nervously at Dorcas who tries very desperately to ignore the flutter in her stomach. “Well, thanks. I’d like to go pro, if I can. It’s hard though, with everything going on. Even harder to imagine life outside of the war, y’know?”

Dorcas’ mind flashes to Regulus and helplessly, her eyes find him in the crowd of people. He’s speaking to Barty against a wall. She looks back to Marlene. “Yeah. Yeah, it is hard to imagine.” 

Marlene looks over her shoulder, following where Dorcas was watching Regulus. “You two are close,” Dorcas nods. “Interesting that he lives with the Potters now, isn’t it? Never would have expected that.”

“I don’t think any of us did,” Dorcas admits. “It was terrible, how he wound up here.”

“His family is a piece of work. He’s well shot of them,” Marlene makes a face. 

“So, how has your break been?” Dorcas asks, desperate for a change of topic. Regulus’ 180 when they get back to school is not going to go over well with the Gryffindors and Dorcas is aware of that. Her attachment to him throughout it will not have Marlene on her side either. She’d like to savor this bit of interaction while it’s still possible.

“Fine,” Marlene shrugs. “It’s nice to be back at home, but I’m a half-blood, you know? I live in a Muggle area, so during holidays I’m pretty isolated. Can’t practice Quidditch or anything like that unless I go to my grandparent's house or the Potters. Good to see my family though.”

Dorcas raises her eyebrows. “You’re a half-blood? I thought you and James grew up together?”

Marlene narrows her eyes. “Yes, I am. Our mums are close. Half-blood families are still wizarding ones, you know.”

Dorcas has to hold in a groan at the way Marlene took her comment. She’s desperate enough for Marlene’s approval that she divulges something that she doesn’t usually. “Of course I know that. I’m half-blood too.”

“You are?” Marlene questions, sounding shocked.

“Yes,” Dorcas says with a small smile. “Got a problem, McKinnon?”

“Obviously not,” Marlene laughs. “I just didn’t realize. I didn’t know there were half-bloods in—”

“In Slytherin?” Dorcas interrupts. “Yup. Me and Snape, as far as I’m aware.”

Marlene wrinkles her nose. “Blegh. Well, you’re much better than Snape, I can tell you that. Don’t lump yourself in with him on any account.”

“Not a fan?” Dorcas asks, grinning.

“That would be an understatement,” Marlene informs her. “I can’t stand the greasy bugger. He gives me the creeps, honestly.”

Dorcas hums. “You’re friends with Lily Evans, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Marlene replies. “And I’m sure you’re aware of what happened between those two last year— I’m not sure who isn’t, but I can tell you I’ve never liked him. I don’t know how Lily ever put up with it. As clever as she is… Well, it’s none of my business really, I guess.”

“And she’s not friends with him anymore,” Dorcas points out.

“Yeah,” Marlene scoffs. “It just took him calling her a mudblood for it to stick. Didn’t matter much when it was Mary, or me, I guess. And I mean, the audacity of Snape to call me a mudblood, as if he’s not just as much of a half-blood as me!”

Dorcas can’t help the giggle that escapes her. Nothing about it is funny, really, but Marlene is very clearly pissed off about the whole thing and is getting rather worked up about it. When she laughs, Marlene stops speaking and looks at her, eyes bright and face flushed, either from alcohol or her rant. Dorcas can’t help but notice how pretty she looks like this— fierce and ready to fight.

For a few seconds Marlene just stares at Dorcas watching as she laughs helplessly. Dorcas attempts to stifle her laughter in fear of offending Marlene, but soon enough she breaks into a smile as well, laughter spilling out of her.

“You’d think he killed my family or something,” Marlene laughs. “The way I just went off about him.”

Dorcas shrugs. “It sounded reasonable to me, all things considered. Someone doesn’t have to ruin your life to be worth shitting on.”

Marlene grins. “You’re not too bad, are you Meadowes? I think I might have misjudged you in the past.”

“Between thinking I was a pureblood and a Slytherin, I can only imagine what you thought of me,” Dorcas replies. “Sometimes you just have to get to know someone a little bit better to judge them.”

Marlene hesitates, still smiling. “Well, I’d like to get to know you more. If you’d like that.”

Dorcas knows she should say no. She knows that the likelihood of Marlene fancying her back is slim. She knows she needs to focus on helping Regulus this term. She also knows that Marlene won’t want a single thing to do with her if she sees how Regulus acts and Dorcas steadfastly by his side. It’s a bad idea, letting Marlene get to know her. A terrible one, actually.

“I’d love that,” Dorcas smiles. “You should write me before term starts up again.”

“There’s only three days until we go back,” Marlene laughs.

“I don’t care,” Dorcas admits. “I want to hear from you before school, so write me. If you’d like to.”

Marlene looks at Dorcas then. Like, really looks at her. She steps forward a bit— not much admittedly, but enough for Dorcas to notice. Enough for her breath to stutter in her chest.

“I’d love to,” Marlene smiles again, her eyes sparkling.

And Dorcas gets one step closer to falling.

—

“Does your family have a party for every holiday?” Lily asks, accepting her drink from James.

“Not every holiday,” James laughs. “Just the winter ones. Christmas and New Year's. Sometimes they do one for Halloween, but I haven’t been to one of those in years, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Lily nods, smiling. “You’ve been well?”

“Yeah,” James grins, thinking of his Christmas Eve with Regulus. “Break has been great, for the most part. Some terrible shit happened with Sirius and Regulus’ uncle, but other than that. It’s been good. We wanted to go to the funeral, but the Blacks hosted it. It wasn’t safe.”

Lily hums. “Have Sirius and Regulus been okay after all of that?”

James frowns. “I don’t know if they’ve processed it enough, honestly. There’s been so much going on— it’s hard to stop for a minute and just be, well, sad. Reg’s birthday was the day after and nobody wanted to ruin that so…”

“I get that,” Lily nods. “All you can do is be for them once they need you.”

James smiles at her. “That’s what I told Remus.”

“Great minds think alike,” Lily winks at him, raising her glass.

“Cheers, Evans.”

James takes a sip of his drink, his eye catching on Regulus from across the room. He’s laughing, or trying not to, with Dorcas and Barty. He smiles helplessly at the sight. 

“I’m happy for you two, you know,” Lily murmurs.

James keeps smiling— and watching Regulus— and nods, “Thanks, Lily. Wait—”

He turns to look down at her. She’s watching Regulus as well, her eyes fond. She looks up at James. “I’m observant, James. Don’t worry, no one said anything.”

“But how—”

“I wasn’t sure at first,” Lily admits, looking back to Regulus. “But I saw it, here or there. At first, I thought it was just you with a crush. It wasn’t until I caught Regulus looking at you the same way that I knew for sure.”

“It doesn’t… bother you?”

“Remus is one of my best friends,” Lily reminds him, because of course she does. It hadn’t even occurred to James that she would know. He wonders if she’s aware of the furry little problem, but obviously he can’t ask that. “And either way, it wouldn’t. I’m not bothered by that kind of thing. He’s a catch, if you ask me.”

“Oh,” James says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He laughs to himself. “A catch, huh? Between that and the gloves, do you have something to confess?”

Lily laughs— the full, lovely one James has always liked to hear. “No, you don’t need to worry about that. I can just recognize when someone is fit and clever. Also, I have him to thank for getting you off my back.”

James runs a hand through his hair, sheepishly. “I am sorry about that, by the way. I should’ve listened when you told me you weren’t interested.”

Lily waves a hand through the air, as if she’s dismissing the thought. “Water under the bridge. It was funny, sometimes. Other times, not so much. Either way, it’s done now and it’s okay.”

James nods. The two of them look out over the party together. It’s nice. Not quite as busy or festive as the Christmas one, but still fun. Things have been difficult recently, on their side of the war. It’s a relief to see so many of the Order members that James recognizes having some fun and looking happy. James has a feeling it’s been a while since they’ve had something to really celebrate. New Year's is a good excuse to pretend like the war isn’t going on.

“If you don’t fancy Regulus, then who do you fancy?” James teases, waggling his eyebrows at her.

He expects Lily to laugh or smile, but she doesn’t. Instead a little wrinkle forms between her brows. She purses her lips before responding with, “No one here.”

James begins to respond, but Lily turns to him so sharply that he stops. Her green eyes are sharp and focused in on him. She gives him a once over before saying, “I used to think Regulus was dating Pandora. Did you know that?”

James wants to laugh because he can remember a point in time when he hadn’t discovered the root of his feelings for Regulus, that he felt a surge of jealousy toward ‘the Malfoy girl’. Lily’s expression is so serious though, so severe, that James doesn’t let any laughter escape him. Carefully, he says, “They’re just friends.”

Lily looks at him again, like she’s searching for something, before nodding and looking out at the party again. “I know.”

James watches her curiously as she takes a long swig of her drink before politely excusing herself to get another.

He might not be obsessed with Lily Evans any more, but the mystery of her never seems to cease.

—

January 1st, 1977

When the clock is close to striking midnight, the group of them make their way outside to light the sparklers that Mary brought from home.

“They’re not quite as extravagant as what wizards might use, but they’re fun,” Mary explains, handing them out to everyone. “Makes for good pictures too. I brought a Polaroid from home, so we can get some.”

“A Polaroid?” Barty asks, inspecting the stick that Mary handed him. 

“It’s a Muggle camera,” Regulus tells him. “The pictures won’t move like ours do.”

“He’s right,” Mary nods, smiling. “They’ll still be good though.”

“Okay, everybody,” Remus announces, checking his watch. “We’ve got a minute left. Should we light them?”

“Yes,” Lily smiles. “Might as well do that the wizard way, shouldn’t we, Mary?”

“Not so fast, Lils,” Mary says. “I’ve brought a lighter from home. It’s time for a true Muggle experience.”

One by one, Mary lights each sparkler. She smiles in delight as they crackle and shine, twirling around with hers above her head.

“Time for the countdown,” Remus yells, waving his sparkler around. In unison, the nine of them count down from ten.

When the clock strikes midnight, they all cheer. They wave their sparklers around and run about the garden, shrieking and laughing. Barty grabs Regulus by the collar and smacks a loud kiss on his cheek. Regulus grimaces, wiping his face. Barty laughs loudly and the rest of them follow suite. 

One by one, they all get their New Year’s kiss. Mary and Lily place kisses on each other’s cheeks, giggling as they do so. James and Sirius pretend to have a dramatic kiss, with James dipping Sirius low to the ground as the girls hoot and whistle. Dorcas looks to Marlene, who flushes immediately and leans forward to press a kiss to her cheek, smiling shyly when she’s done. 

“Who wants a picture?” Remus asks, polaroid in hand.

“Remus! You need a New Year’s kiss too,” Mary yells. “Get over here and let me give you one.”

Remus laughs, throwing his head back. “Thanks, Mary, but I’m good. Gonna wait until I can get the real thing, y’know?”

Mary makes a pouting face. “Fine, but if you change your mind, tell me. It’s bad luck to not have a New Year’s kiss.”

“I’ll be okay,” Remus assures her, grinning. “Okay, picture? Anyone?”

“Get one of all of us!” Marlene shouts.

“But who's going to take it? Should I go get my mum?” James asks.

“We're witches and wizards,” Lily says, exasperated. “Someone charm the camera so it’ll take a picture of us. We’ve had the Muggle experience. Let’s make it a little bit magical.”

Mary does agree on that point, and once Remus and Lily have charmed the camera, all of them line up in front of the camera. With arms around each other, wide smiles on their faces, and new sparklers in their hands, the flash goes off. With that, their first picture of the year is captured.

“Welcome to 1977, everybody,” Barty grins.

—

In theory, James quite likes New Year's. It’s no Christmas or Halloween, but it’s something. James can appreciate it for what it is. An ode to new beginnings, time to spend time with friends, maybe get a kiss in, and try to change for the better. It’s pretty special, when you think about it like that.

The party is over now and everyone aside from James, Sirius, Remus, and Regulus has gone home. The four of them hung out a bit once everyone left, but it’s close to two in the morning now, so they’ve all made their way to bed.

James looks to Regulus, who’s reading in bed and frowning over something the author wrote. They hadn’t had the opportunity to kiss at midnight, but they managed to make up for it once they slipped away together.

“I love you,” James tells Regulus.

Regulus looks up from his book, expression smoothing out. He gives James a small smile. “I love you too.”

James takes off his glasses and lies down beside him, resting his head on his shoulder. Regulus begins reading to him, and before long, James is lulled to sleep by the sound of his voice.

It’s not a bad way to start 1977, if you ask him.

—

Remus takes a puff of his cigarette, overlooking the Potters' back garden. It’s late now, far past midnight, and he’s enjoying a moment of solitude. The wind is blowing hard, bringing a nice chill to his overheated body and aching bones. The full moon falls on the 5th of this month— a Wednesday, meaning he’ll have a difficult time recovering without being noticed. Not a great omen for the upcoming year, if he was one to believe in that kind of thing.

He left Sirius sleeping upstairs. He wouldn’t have minded if he joined him, but Remus has always liked to be alone. Sometimes he thinks it’s wired into him or something. At one point he thought it was because of his lycanthropy, but Peter pointed out that didn’t make much sense, considering wolves prefer to be in packs.

He doesn’t always prefer to be alone. Sometimes he prefers to be with his friends. Sometimes he prefers to be alone with someone. Tonight, when the clock struck midnight, Remus would have much preferred to be alone with Sirius, starting the New Year with their lips pressed together. They got to that later, obviously, but it wasn’t quite the same. Maybe next year, Remus thinks, we’ll get to have a real one. Seal the New Year with a kiss. 

As you can likely tell, admitting his feelings about Sirius is making him soft. It’s a little bit disgusting. Not really, but he knows if he heard James or Lily, or Mary, or any of his friends say something as soppy as he just thought to himself, he’d likely gag. 

He’s deep in thought, wondering if Sirius has as equally soppy thoughts as he does when the French doors to the backyard creak open. Remus turns to find Regulus stepping through them.

He’s dressed softer than usual, none of the usual dark, crisp fabrics or perfectly tailored robes. Just a dark blue sweatshirt and a pair of light blue pyjama pants. He looks more like Sirius, like this. His hair has gotten a bit longer too, over the semester away from his family. His curls fall around his face now, closer to his neck. This change highlights it too— the similarity between him and Sirius.

“I thought I heard you out here,” Regulus says, quietly. He sits next to Remus at the picnic table on the Potters’ patio.

Remus exhales smoke, offering his cigarette to Regulus, who takes it. “How’d you know it was me?”

Regulus puffs on it. “Sirius sleeps like the dead once he’s out and I know where James is. I was doubtful that his parents would be out here this late.”

Remus hums, taking the cigarette back when Regulus passes it to him. 

“What are you doing out there?” Regulus asks.

“Thinking,” Remus replies, looking up at the moon.

Regulus nods beside him, like he understands. “I need to tell you something, Remus. And I need to ask you for a favor.”

Remus gives him a sidelong glance. “Do you now? What is it?”

Regulus is quiet, cracking his knuckles. He joins Remus in staring up at the night sky. Finally, he says, “I’m going back home this summer.”

Remus freezes, feeling a chill of despair course through him. “What?”

“I’m going home this summer,” Regulus repeats, eyes narrowed at the sky. “It’s not a choice, really. I’ve been asked to do something, to help with the war— your side, that is. Going home is part of it.”

“But,” Remus shakes his head. “Why would they have you go home? I mean, didn’t you almost die the last time you were there? Who asked you to go?”

“There’s a prophecy,” Regulus murmurs, tightly. “It involves me. Supposedly, I have the ability to end the war. Fewer casualties. Dumbledore asked this of me. It’ll all start to change at the start of term.”

“Does Sirius know? James?”

Regulus nods. “They both know. It’s been hard to accept it, I think. For both of them.”

“What about for you?”

“What?” Regulus asks, looking at Remus.

“Hasn’t it been hard?” Remus questions. “Finding out about all of this? The idea of going back there?”

“Oh,” Regulus says. His eyebrow furrows. “I mean, yes, I guess it has. I’ve been dealing with it, though. It’s fine, at this point.”

“Regulus—”

“I’m not telling you this for your pity, or advice,” Regulus tells him, his voice hard. “I need something from you, to help throughout all of this.”

“What is it?”

“I—” Regulus pauses, playing with his fingers again. “I need you to help Sirius through this. Take care of him. It won’t be easy for him, not being able to talk to me after this term. Hearing about what I’ll have done.” Regulus looks up at Remus, clasping his hands. “I know it’s probably not my place, but I have to ask because— well, he’s my brother. I know James will take care of him, but he takes care of everybody. And he needs to take care of himself, too. I need you to take care of Sirius. Focus on him the best you can.”

Remus just stares at Regulus, a bit in shock that this is a conversation they’re having. Then again, Remus feels like he thinks that almost every time he has a conversation alone with him. Who can blame him, really? Who would have ever thought that they’d be here— any of them? How is it that Regulus is tasked with something like this? The small boy from that first day on the train second year? How is it that Sirius and Remus are together now? James and Regulus? How is there a war waging around them at this exact moment? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think anyone does.

He wants to push for details about what it is Regulus has to do, but he doesn’t. He puts out his cigarette and nods, slowly. “I will, I promise.”

Regulus sighs, tilting his head up to the sky. The winter winds blow his curls lightly. “Thank you, Remus.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Remus says and he means it. He would’ve done it anyway.

“There’s one last thing,” Regulus murmurs. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“I figured as much,” Remus admits. “You don’t need to worry about me and secrets. I do pretty well with those.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Regulus chuckles. “Well, in any case, no one can know this is happening. In order for it to work, it needs to stay secret. If it doesn’t… It puts my life on the line. James’ and Sirius’. All of my friends. Probably yours as well.”

Remus swallows harshly, feeling the weight of those words. “Got it.”

“And I’d prefer if you didn’t tell Sirius I asked that of you,” Regulus adds, looking at Remus meaningfully.

“He’d appreciate it,” Remus counters.

“I don’t care,” Regulus informs him. 

“I’ll do my best then.”

Regulus nods and gets up from his seat, clearly getting ready to leave. Remus realizes that he doesn’t want him to go yet. This could be the last time for a very long time that the two of them have a conversation like this or one at all. Remus knows they’re not friends exactly, but he’s relatively fond of Regulus at this point. He doesn’t want anything to happen to him.

“Have another cigarette with me,” Remus invites, keeping his voice light. He offers one to Regulus, wagging it playfully.

Regulus stares at the cigarette before dragging his eyes back up to Remus’. A smirk tugs on the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, okay. Best to start the New Year is with bad habits, isn’t it?”

“Exactly,” Remus laughs, handing Regulus the cigarette. Once it’s in his mouth, he snaps his fingers and lights it for him.

“Show-off,” Regulus shakes his head. “Maybe you and Sirius are more alike than I thought.”

“Maybe,” Remus smiles, lighting his own. “You two are more alike than I thought.”

Regulus doesn’t say anything to that. He just takes a drag and leans his head back, eyes closed. When he exhales the smoke from his mouth, the wind takes it away just as quickly.

On the first day of the year 1977, Remus Lupin and Regulus Black sit there together, on James Potter’s back porch, puffing cigarettes while war swirls around them like smoke. They don’t talk much, but it’s nice. It’s comfortable. Most of all, it’s fleeting.

— 

January 2nd, 1977 

Time seems to be stretching and morphing around Regulus. It moves in waves— painstakingly slow or unbelievably quick. It’s the last day before the boys will return to Hogwarts for school and Regulus is alone in Potter Cottage. Even Bea, the house elf, is gone to run errands.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter have left the house, seemingly in need of catching up on work they missed during the holidays. It’s the mid-afternoon now and Remus, Sirius, and James have walked to the Muggle town not too far down the road to go to the cinema and watch a film called King Kong. It’s about a giant gorilla that terrorizes New York City. Regulus isn’t interested.

So, instead, he stays in his bedroom and stands at the window overlooking the garden. It’s been cold the past few days and there’s a slight dusting of frost over the grass outside. He’s doing his best to not think about returning to school tomorrow, but it’s difficult, especially when he’s alone like this. The watch that Pandora gave him is burning a hole in his pocket.

Regulus sighs, wiping a hand over his face. He glances out the window one last time before grabbing his trunk and opening it. 

He’s already stored his gifts for Christmas, so he begins to unpack some of them based on importance. A few other things as well. It doesn’t take too long. There aren’t too many things he’s prioritizing.

When he’s finished, six things are spread out on his bed. The cigar box, a photograph of him and Sirius, his potioneers knife, the mirror, the ring from Alphard, and a photograph of him with his friends. He looks at each item, carefully. 

The cigar box sits on the bed, waiting to be opened. Eventually, Regulus does. His heart catches in his chest when he sees James’ photo. Carefully, Regulus takes a single note out of the box before closing it. The box goes to the right of the bed. The note goes on the left side. It doesn’t have a signature on it.

A seven year old Sirius smiles up at him, gaps in his teeth. A six year old Regulus is next to him, frowning slightly before he starts to smile, just at the end of the photo’s loop. Regulus sets the photo to the right of the bed.

The mirror remains in its spot in the middle of the bed. He knows he can’t take it, but he can’t leave it behind just yet. It’s not an argument for this break.

Immediately, Regulus places the knife on the left side.

He hesitates when he gets to the ring from Alphard. He could magick it, he thinks. Place a very strong notice-me-not charm on it. Yes, Regulus nods to himself, that’ll work. He needs something to remember Sirius by when he’s in the throes of all of this. Something to honor Alphard by. He places the ring back on his finger.

The photograph of him with Barty, Evan, Dorcas, and Pandora is next. He stares at the photo for a moment. It’s from last year, just before the end of term. Exams were over and the five of them were lounging on the school grounds. It’s a rare photo where Regulus has a genuine smile on his face. It gets placed to the left.

The six items are sorted and Regulus doublechecks his decisions. When he’s decided he’s not acting too foolishly about anything he takes the pocket watch out of his robes. Just like before, he can feel the power of its magic as he holds it in his hand.

Regulus isn’t sure how Pandora got this made for him. Runic magic isn’t all that common anymore. It’s difficult to find someone who can properly imbue an object with the proper enchantments necessary and can come with a high price.

It’s not surprising, honestly. Pandora is a Malfoy and although her parents tend to stay away from the spotlight of their other family members, they still hold an abundance of wealth, influence, and power. 

Regulus traces his finger over the glass covering the face of the watch. He recounts the meaning of each rune. V ictory and wholeness. Progress. Strength. Wrath. Intuition. Collaboration and protection. Death.

He’s not sure how the watch works, but he knows that if Pandora had it made with these specific inscriptions then it serves a purpose in all of this. Again, Regulus sighs. He’s going to have to speak to Pandora when they return to school. He needs her to explain the properties of the watch so he can use it properly.

Right now, the watch’s hand is pointing to Algiz. Collaboration and protection. He wonders when he’ll see that again after he leaves the Potters.

He places the watch beside the note from James, the knife, and the photo of his friends. There are seven items. Seven runes. These are items he will keep. Things he can get away with taking with him.

The others will have to be hidden, or better yet, handed off for safekeeping while he’s away. It’d be nice, Regulus thinks, if he pretends that someone is just looking after them. If he pretends that he’ll come back for them.

The approved items get placed back in his trunk, along with the mirror. He’ll deal with that later. The other items remain on his bed. 

Regulus was going to go downstairs after that, but just as he’s about to open his door, he hesitates. He turns back around and opens the cigar box. One by one, he rereads the notes from James. 

When he finally leaves his room, his eyelashes are damp.

—

The afternoon begins to wane and it occurs to Regulus that this is the longest he’s been alone in a long time, if ever. It's definitely his first time alone without the fear of punishment when someone returns. He’s been filling his day with mundane activities and a contended aimlessness. He’s wandered the halls of Potter Cottage, looked through photo albums, ate lunch, and spent some time in the library.

When a few hours have passed and the boys haven’t returned, he decides to practice Occluding, choosing a spot on the window seat in the library to do so. He takes memories and transforms them into novels, organizing and reorganizing them on a shelf. He changes their titles and alters their pages. He disguises them and leaves traps for others to find. Based on what he’s been reading, the key to Occlumency isn't just keeping someone out of your mind, but making sure they don’t find anything of value if they do make it in. False memories are your friend. You give them something to bite into— something that isn’t real or doesn’t matter to you, but appears to. It’s all an effort to lead them away from the memories you’re trying to keep them away from.

When he finishes, the sun has set and the room has gone completely dark. He sits there for a moment, allowing himself time to adjust to this plane of memory. He rolls his shoulders back and catalogs how he feels. A bit agitated, he notes, but not as hollow and out of sorts as he usually does. He’s getting better at managing the magic of it all.

As he goes to exit the room, his eyes catch on a volume on one of the shelves in the library. He plucks it carefully from its place, running a hand over the cover. Accomplishing Animagus: A Guide to One of Magic’s Most Complex Branches. 

James suggested that Regulus become an Animagus— something Regulus had shrugged off at one point. The more he’s encouraged it, the more Regulus has considered it and come to the conclusion that it would be a smart decision. He’ll need methods of slipping away while he’s at his parents and a means of going unnoticed. He’s still not sure how he’s supposed to communicate with Dumbledore during all of this, but having an alternate form that people aren’t aware of should be useful, shouldn’t it?

He takes the book, remembering that Monty told him he could borrow any that he liked, and pockets it in his robes. He hopes that one day he’ll be able to return it.

As he stuffs the book in his robes, his fingers brush against something, causing him to curse and yank his hand away. With a start, Regulus realizes that it’s the pocket watch Pandora gave him. It’s buzzing slightly and the metal is so hot that it burnt his fingers. He shrugs the sleeves of his robes down a bit so that they wrap around his fingers and picks it up again. It’s still hot— he can feel it through the fabric. He studies the face of the watch, checking the dials and runes. Slowly, the hand of the watch begins to tick away from Algiz and comes to rest on Ehwaz. Progress.

He’s still not sure exactly how it works. Typically, runes are inscribed to give the user their power, but this watch seems to tap into the emotions and power of the Regulus, giving him insight into his situation. 

He’s not exactly sure how this will be of use if that’s the case. He already knew that he had made progress with his Occlumency. He didn’t need a watch to know that.

Suddenly, he hears the door to the house open and laughter floods the house. It feels like being dipped in cold water, the shock of it when he’s in a state like this. 

Regulus takes a deep breath and shakes his head slightly, feeling as he comes back to himself. Quickly, he makes his way downstairs, keen to not miss out on anything else. This is his last bit of good. He’s going to let himself feel it.

He wonders if later, when he needs it, he’ll let himself remember it.