On Begged and Borrowed Time

Early January, 1977

“Moony,” James whispers, glancing at his friend sidelong. “Just go to the hospital wing. We can all leave. We’ll say we skivved off for a prank.”

“James,” Remus says through gritted teeth. “Leave it.”

James exchanges a look with Sirius, whose lips are pursed. Neither of them is happy that Remus is forcing himself through the day when he’s in pain like this. The full moon is tonight and it doesn’t look like it’s going to be a good one. James can see the beads of sweat forming on Remus’ temple despite the January chill in the castle. 

Sirius is taking a hands-off approach to this full moon. Typically, he’s all over Remus—pestering him about his well-being and attempting to dote on him until he eventually snaps. James figures this is a result of them being together now. This is the first full moon since that happened. Love seems to make everything more complicated, doesn’t it? Although, James supposes it’s been there for a long time with the two of them. Then again, they’ve always been rather complicated, Sirius and Remus.

When class ends James, Sirius, and Peter wait for Remus to finish packing his bag. Irritation radiating off of him in waves, Remus leads them out of the classroom. He limps ahead of them, Peter trailing closely behind him. Sirius and James take up the tail of the group.

“He’s punishing himself for no reason,” Sirius mutters, angrily. He says this every full moon. It’s true, but it’s also who Moony is. James doesn’t think there’s any changing it at this point. They just have to be there for him. 

“The day is almost over,” James tells him. “He’ll go back to the dorm, we’ll take him some food, and then he’ll be off to Madame Pomfrey.” James watches as Remus’ shoulders fold over on themselves, his pain evident. Grimacing, James murmurs, “He’ll get through it. We’ll help him. He always does and we always do.”

“Right,” Sirius clips, his gaze focused on Remus.

—

“Merlin’s fucking beard,” Sirius curses. “I could strangle him.”

Remus has just left for the hospital wing, refusing accompaniment by Sirius. Or James. However, he did let Peter go with him. Don’t ask James why, he doesn’t attempt to understand Moony’s reasoning during the full moon.

“It’s fine, mate,” James soothes. “I reckon Pete’s been feeling rather left out after the break. It’s good that Remus chose him like that.”

Sirius grunts in response, falling back onto his bed. James snorts in amusement.

“You could be a bit nicer, Pads,” James says, his tone bordering on serious. 

“To who?” Sirius exclaims, his head popping up. His face is scrunched into a look of betrayal.

James gives him an unimpressed look. “Really?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Sirius sighs. “It’s not my fault that Wormtail is an idiot more times than he’s not. How am I expected to put up with it all the time?”

“We haven’t seen him in weeks,” James sighs. “He’s our friend. A good one, too. Even if you don’t want to admit it, he has been rather left out. He doesn’t even know half of what’s going on.”

“And he won’t,” Sirius snaps. “He can’t be trusted with most of those things. You know he has a big mouth. Imagine him telling his little chess club what Regulus is doing or about me and Moony. Or you and Regulus. I’m not risking it and I’m more than sure that my brother wouldn’t. You shouldn’t either, Prongs. Not even in the spirit of friendship, or honor, or whatever it is you’re feeling guilty about.”

James falls silent at that. He doesn’t know what he thinks about Peter knowing all of it. He does feel rather guilty, keeping his friend in the dark, but he knows he can’t tell him about Regulus. Or himself and Regulus. He was just hoping that Sirius might find it in him to let him know about him and Remus.

“He’s kept Remus’ secret for years now,” James reminds him, quietly. “You’ll only make it harder for the two of you by not telling him.”

“Let’s head to the shack,” Sirius murmurs, ignoring James’ comments. “It’ll be a long night, I think.”

As they leave the dorm, James’ eyes linger on a framed photo of the four of them on Peter’s bedside table. He averts his eyes, following Sirius out of the room.

—

Despite his pain throughout the day, Remus’ actual transformation didn’t seem any worse than usual. Not say it wasn’t awful—it always is, but sometimes things go awry. Bones snap even for the wolf, or the wolf lies there for minutes after the transformation whimpering. Today, it was quick. Easy, almost.

Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail followed Moony into the forest without issue. If anything, the wolf seemed more eager than usual to explore. He was in a good mood but seemed desperate for something. Typically, he’s playful and messes about with all of them. Tonight though, Moony was looking for something. For someone.

Prongs didn’t feel nervous about it until they got deeper and deeper into the forest, eventually reaching a place they hadn’t been to before. Attempting to get Padfoot’s attention, James huffed through his nose in an attempt to communicate his concern. Padfoot mirrored him, a look of wariness resting even in his canine eyes.

In sync, the two of them approached Moony, attempting to usher him back towards the edge of the forest. The sun would rise soon and they’d been wandering farther and farther for hours now. Despite their urging, Moony ignored them and continued to sniff fervently along the treeline. Wormtail scurried over to Padfoot and Prongs, letting out a questioning squeak. The three of them looked at each other. Meaningful communication wasn’t exactly easy in this form. 

Suddenly, the silence between their shared glances was broken by a howl in the near distance. Immediately, Moony began howling back and appeared ready to pounce and find the source.

A shiver went through Prongs and when he looked to Padfoot, his hackles were raised. That howl was no normal wolf. Not a hellhound. There was another werewolf, and it was extremely close by.

Panicking, James racked his mind for a solution. There was little time to stop Moony from finding the other wolf.  He wasn’t sure if it’d be dangerous for Moony to meet another one, but he knows that Remus would be appalled the morning after that he had been drawn in. 

In an attempt to distract Moony, Prongs charged at him, initiating a fight. Padfoot was on his heels, working to irritate Moony enough that he’d shift his focus to the two of them instead of the wolf. 

Moony rarely, if ever gets aggressive with them on full moons, so James isn’t prepared for the brute strength he possesses when he attempts to shake Prongs off. Lunging forward, he snaps at James, catching his shoulder in his teeth. When his teeth sink into Prong’s skin, James lets out a noise he’s never heard himself make while in Animagus form. Stumbling onto the ground, he can smell the blood that pours from the wound that was just inflicted on him. 

Distantly, he can hear Padfoot and Moony snarling, clearly fighting. Even through his pain and panic, James can’t help the way his heart seizes when he hears the distinct sound of Padfoot’s whimper. 

James didn’t know it was possible as Prongs, but he feels himself getting dizzy and black dots spot his vision. Blood loss, he thinks to himself distantly, before losing consciousness entirely.

—

“James! James, can you hear me?”

Groaning, James comes to, blinking harshly against the early morning light.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Sirius breathes. “James, I don’t know what to do. I need you to help me figure this out, please. What do we do?”

“What’s going on?” James slurs. His head is pounding and his limbs are tingling with numbness.

“Remus—Moony, he bit you while you were Prongs. James,” Sirius’ voice breaks. “James, it’s bad. It’s really bad. I can’t take you to Madame Pomfrey because of Remus. James, who do I call?”

“Regulus,” James whispers. “Or my mum. Whoever you can get here faster. Take me to the Come-And-Go Room. Seventh floor.”

“ Fuck ,” Sirius whimpers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay.”

That’s the last thing James hears before he falls unconscious again.

—

Regulus is lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling when the Patronus comes. It’s late—or early—depending on who you ask. Early, Regulus supposes, considering the sun has begun to break through the darkness of the lake outside his window. He hasn’t been able to sleep, too busy mulling over his current undertaking.

“Regulus,” The glowing dog says, panicked. “It’s James. He’s hurt really bad and I need your help. We’re in the Come-and-Go Room. Just— please , Reggie. Please come help.”

The panic that seizes Regulus is unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He throws his robes on over his pyjamas and races out of the dormitory, casting a quick disillusionment charm as he does.

—

“What the fuck happened?”

Sirius whips around at the sound of his brother’s voice, watching as he sweeps into the room, dark robes billowing around his blue pyjamas.

“It’s the full moon,” Sirius explains, his voice shaking. “I don’t know what happened—I think there was another werewolf in the Forbidden Forest. We tried to stop Moony from going toward it, but he got aggressive. He—He bit James.”

“Sirius,” Regulus’ voice is hard and cold. “Tell me that James was in his Animagus form when this happened. For your own sake, and Remus’, tell me he wasn’t in human form.”

“He was a stag,” Sirius whispers. He looks at his brother with wide eyes. “Regulus, can you help him?”

Regulus falls onto his knees beside James. Blood is still flowing from the wound on his shoulder, a slow, steady trickle. He swallows tightly. “Not on my own, but yes. Do not argue with me. I’m doing what is necessary to heal James and save his life, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Sirius nods fervently. “Yes, Reggie, of course. I trust you.”

Regulus gives him a piercing glare before looking back to James. Clearly, he calls out, “Kreacher!”

—

“Master Regulus,” Kreacher bows deeply before Regulus. 

Although Regulus has rather missed the old elf, there’s no time for conversation. “Kreacher, I need you to bring me supplies from the Black medical stores. Powdered silver, Dittany, Pepper-up, Murtlap Essence, and blood-replenishing potions. Pain potions, as well.” Regulus pauses. “Kreacher, you cannot tell anyone of this. Not my mother or father. I beg you, keep this between us. Tell no one I called upon you for this.”

Kreacher’s large eyes meet Regulus’, questioning. The elf glances around the room, taking in Sirius and James on the floor. If he’s not mistaken, Regulus sees Kreacher’s eyes widen slightly. He looks back to Regulus, a resolute look on his face, and nods before disapparating with a loud crack.

“Do you trust him?” Sirius asks, quietly. “I mean, do you really think he won’t tell mother and father? He’s their—”

“He’s always favored me,” Regulus cuts him off. “I’m the heir now. He needs to obey me, and he will.”

Sirius doesn’t respond and before he can, Kreacher is back in the room, carrying a basket of vials. He offers it to Regulus with a bow. “The supplies requested, Master Regulus.”

Regulus takes the basket, rummaging through it. Uncapping a vial of blood-replenishing potion, he tilts James’ head back, pouring the liquid down his throat. He tries not to wince when he notices that James’ glasses are cracked and his face has a littering of small cuts on it.

“Kreacher, thank you. You may go,” Regulus says tightly, continuing to uncap and organize the supplies he has to use. 

“Does Master Regulus need help?” Kreacher asks. “Kreacher can help.”

Regulus falters, looking from the supplies to Kreacher. Glancing at Sirius, he asks, “Can you cast a diagnostic spell? A spell to monitor vitals? I would, but I need to focus.”

Tears spilling down his face, Sirius shakes his head. “I—I’ve never learned healing spells. That was always you. Or Kreacher.”

Regulus nods. “Kreacher, cast a diagnostic and vitals spell so that I can see it. I want it as detailed as possible. I need to know every single thing that’s wrong with him.”

Kreacher does so immediately and Regulus takes in the charts floating above him. James’ blood levels are dangerously low and his heart rate is slow, but it’s not a guaranteed death sentence. “We don’t have much time before they notice you’re gone, Kreacher. Can you maintain this magic from Grimmauld Place?”

“Yes, Master Regulus,” Kreacher nods early. “Kreacher can.”

“Good,” Regulus clips. “Kreacher, you’re dismissed. I can’t thank you enough. I—” Regulus glances at Sirius. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

With a nod, bow, and loud crack, Kreacher is gone again. Regulus turns to Sirus again. “Uncap two more blood-replenishing potions and pour them down his throat. Make sure they all go down. I need to work on sealing the wound.”

With shaking hands, Sirius does as he’s told. Regulus takes an entire vial of powdered silver and pours it onto the chunk of skin that’s been ripped from James’ shoulder. Carefully, he spreads it, patting it into the raw flesh. Taking another, he repeats the process until the skin is carefully and fully coated.

“He shouldn’t transform,” Regulus says quietly as he spreads Dittany over the wound. He glances up at the diagnostics, biting back a sigh of relief to see that they’re improved greatly. “Animals aren’t affected by werewolf attacks. I don’t know if he’ll have side effects or not, but he won’t become a werewolf.”

Sirius lets out a shuddering breath of relief and Regulus works to stitch together the skin that’s torn. Once that’s done, he carefully pats Essence of Murtlap to the small cuts on James’ face. Looking at his vitals once again, Regulus lets himself fall back against the couch. He’s fine. He’s going to be fine. He puts his hands into his face. “Give him a pain poition.”

Even though his eyes are covered, Regulus can hear as Sirius uncaps and pours the potion. “I don’t expect either of you to listen to me, but you should not be doing this with Lupin. It’s far too dangerous.” He lowers his hands, looking at Sirius. “Do you know how lucky you are that he didn’t die? That I had the capabilities to heal him? Or even just that this hasn’t happened before?”

“I know,” Sirius murmurs, casting his eyes downward. “I know, but you’re right. This won’t stop us. I know it won’t stop James.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Regulus shakes his head with a cruel laugh. “But maybe it’ll stop Lupin from allowing it. Will he be able to withstand the guilt of almost murdering his best friend?”

Sirius doesn’t respond to that and the silence hangs in the air between them. His words might have been harsh, but they weren’t wrong. Not in any sense. 

—

Regulus’ own diagnostic and vitals spells float above James, the glow of them illuminating his skin.

“What classes do you have today? Will it be noticed if you don’t attend?”

“If it was a normal day, no, but if the three of us are absent following the full moon people will notice,” Sirius responds. “Maybe not other students, but professors definitely. I’m sure McGonagall would be suspicious.”

“Lupin typically attends classes after the full moon,” Regulus comments. He’s noticed that Remus seems to suffer through the days before and after the full moon. He started taking note of it after he realized he had Lycanthropy. “You don’t think he’ll go today?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “When…bad things happen during the full moon, he usually takes longer to wake up. Madame Pomfrey might insist he stay in the infirmary today.”

Regulus hums in acknowledgment, thinking. It’s not ideal for James to go to class, but he understands the risk it poses to Remus if he doesn’t. Besides, Regulus managed to heal him almost completely. He’ll be sore and tired for a few days, but he’s not going to be in danger by going. 

“I suppose we’ll wake him up then,” Regulus murmurs. “Give him some Pepper-Up potion, would you?”

Slowly, James wakes up, a pained groan falling from his lips. He blinks, looking around the room. When he realizes where he is and the fact that Regulus and Sirius are there, clear confusion passes across his face before he grins, unsure. “Who died?”

“You nearly did, you idiot,” Regulus snaps, unable to contain his irritation at how—how reckless James has been with his life. Everything Regulus is doing—he can pretend it’s for the war, but in the end, it’s not really. Not fully, at least. It’s for James and his friends and the fact that Regulus can spare their lives. James knows this, too, and still, he’s gone and done something as stupid as this.

James’ grin falls and he turns to Sirius. Slowly, he says, “Pads…What happened?”

Sirius’ face is grim when he speaks. “There was another werewolf, I think. We lost control of Moony—you got attacked in the process. I took you here. Pete stayed with Remus.”

“Fuck,” James curses, wincing as he shifts his position. “How is Remus? Have you spoken to him?”

“I’ve been here,” Sirius shakes his head. “Regulus meant what he said, Prongs. You almost—you almost died. It was close. Really close, I think.”

“How could you be so foolish?” Regulus cuts in. “Attempting to stop a werewolf from getting to another? Didn’t you do research on werewolves before deciding to do all of this? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“We know,” James says, biting his lip. “I wasn’t thinking, I guess. I just had to stop him from following it. We don’t know what the other wolf was doing.”

“Do not risk your life for others when I’m risking mine for you,” Regulus hisses, getting closer to James. “Do you understand me?”

“Regulus…” James whispers, searching his eyes. Then, he glances back to where Sirius stands behind Regulus as if to remind him that he’s there. Sirius clears his throat awkwardly.

Regulus’ face flushes and he backs up. “You need to get to class if you want all of this to go unnoticed. I’ll see you later this week.” He hesitates a moment before pressing a kiss to the top of James’ head. “Take pain potions throughout the day. No more than three or you'll act like an idiot.”

“He’s such a bloody psycho,” Sirius groans once the door slams shut. 

James cracks a weak smile, dread settling in his chest.

—

“You need to go to him,” James tells Sirius, biting back a groan of pain when the shirt he pulls over himself grazes his injury. “He’s going to lose it. I’ll say you had a lie-in, I don’t care. Just go.”

“You don’t want to come?”

“Better if I wait until later,” James responds, looking in the mirror as he ties his tie. He looks over his shoulder at Sirius. “Go to him, Pads.”

—

When Sirius enters the infirmary, it’s entirely empty aside from a single bed in the back corner of the room that has its curtains drawn. 

“Oh, hello, Sirius,” Madame Pomfrey chirps, bustling out of her office. “I was wondering where you three were. Are the other boys not coming?”

“They had to make all their classes today,” Sirius smiles. “I can’t stay too long, but I figured I’d stop by. Is he awake then?”

Madame Pomfrey nods. “Not in the best of moods this morning, but I can’t blame him. More injuries than usual this time, poor lamb. He also had an unexpected visitor this morning. He’s never seemed one for surprises, so I’m not sure that he was too pleased about that.”

“An unexpected visitor?” Sirius questions. “Who?”

“Pandora Malfoy,” Madame Pomfrey informs him. “Sweet girl.”

Sirius plasters a tight smile on his face. “Well, can I see him then? Can’t believe someone beat me to it.”

“Of course, dear. You know where to find him.”

—

“Took you long enough,” Remus grumbles, folding his arms across his chest. The bandages on his skin scratch against the fabric of his shirt, but he ignores it.

“Sorry, Moony,” Sirius mumbles, sitting beside him. He fumbles for Remus’ hand, squeezing it. “Had to take care of a few things this morning.”

“Is he—is he okay then?”

“Fine,” Sirius nods, tucking his hair behind his ear. “A little scratched up, but fine. Don’t blame yourself. None of us would have anticipated that happening.”

“I’ve told you all how dangerous it is,” Remus sighs, fidgeting with his hem. “Who treated him? Not Poppy?”

“Regulus. Oh, and my old house-elf, Kreacher. He’s rather fond of Regulus. He brought the healing supplies.”

“Kreacher,” Remus echoes, drawing his brows together. “The Black family elf helped heal James Potter from a werewolf bite?”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” Sirius says, smiling weakly at him. “You know, you’re much calmer about all of this than I thought you’d be.”

“I’m sure it’ll hit me later,” Remus murmurs, sheepishly. “It’s just that well—if James is okay, then I think there’s more important things to discuss.”

“There’s another werewolf in the forest,” Sirius murmurs. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” Remus says, slowly. “It’s not good, that’s for sure, but I don’t think it lives there. It didn’t smell like it at least.” He pauses a moment before speaking again. “There’s more.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Malfoy. Pandora Malfoy. She came to see me this morning.”

“Poppy mentioned that,” Sirius tells him. “Was wondering if you’d bring it up.”

“She told me not to tell anyone about the other wolf,” Remus lowers his voice. “Especially not Dumbledore.”

“She—What? How did she know? Regulus?”

“That’s what I assumed, but no,” Remus shakes his head. “She has…abilities it seems. Can see things.”

Sirius hums thoughtfully before speaking. “There’s always been rumours about the Malfoys having seers in their lines. Did she tell you anything that made you believe her?”

“She told me that if I told Dumbledore right now I’d be in danger. That I need to wait a bit to tell him about the others nearby if I want to—survive.”

Sirius’ grip on Remus’ hand tightens. “So you’ll wait then.”

Remus nods, his mouth in a tight line. “I’ll wait.”

—

Late January, 1977

“You’re a natural Occlumens.”

Regulus looks up from where he’s packing his bag after a training session with Dumbledore. He nods, slowly. “Yes.”

“Interesting,” Dumbledore hums, peering at him over his glasses. “When did you become aware of this?”

Regulus pauses what he’s doing and stands up straighter to look Dumbledore in the eye. “My mother has been using Legilimency on me for as long as I can remember. Somewhere along the way, I realized there were ways to stop her. I might’ve been six or seven the first time I was successful.”

Dumbledore nods, thoughtfully. “Is your brother one as well?”

Regulus can’t help the way his eyes narrow at Dumbledore’s mention of Sirius. “Yes, but he’s not a fan of mind magic like this. He won’t be willing to use it on other people.”

“That’s not what I was suggesting,” Dumbledore tells him, smiling slightly. “I was simply—ah, curious.”

Regulus doesn’t respond to that. This is probably the worst part of the training sessions with Dumbledore—the conversations he’s forced into afterward. They’re usually short, but always a bit prying. He’s well aware that the headmaster is trying to get more information out of Regulus, whether it’s about himself and his skills or his family. Some days, Regulus is willing because it’s not like there’s much he’ll be able to hide in this situation. Other times though, Regulus is resistant. Rude and obstinate. 

“You have Prefect rounds tomorrow,” Dumbledore comments. He’s still watching Regulus closely as if he’s cataloging his reactions.

“I do,” Regulus says. “Is that an issue? Did you want to meet tomorrow night as well?”

“No, nothing like that. However, I would like to suggest that you request a change in your Prefect pairing. Perhaps someone in Slytherin or Ravenclaw rather than Mr. Potter.”

“What?” Regulus questions, taken aback. “Why is that necessary?”

“It’s up to you, I suppose,” Dumbledore murmurs, sitting down at his desk. “Although, I believe it would help you, to grow close to someone who is not in Gryffindor. Particularly someone who isn’t James. He has a bit of a reputation, as I’m sure you’re aware of. It might be best to distance yourself entirely. Publicly, at least.”

“Publicly,” Regulus repeats, his mouth dry. 

“Yes,” Dumbledore nods. “I’m sure the two of you can find time for each other out of the public eye, don’t you?”

Regulus grits his teeth, haphazardly finishing his packing. He hoists his book bag over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Headmaster.”

Just as Regulus is about to rush out of the Headmaster’s office, determined to not fully show his cards in front of Dumbledore, the headmaster calls out, “True colors shine in darkness and secrecy, Regulus. I wish you the best in enduring that.”

Regulus makes it to the empty boy’s bathroom just down the hall before he bursts, gripping the sides of the sinking and heaving deep, shaking breaths. When he looks up, staring into the aged, dirty mirror in front of him, he balks at his appearance. He’s been back at school for three weeks now and has become fully involved with the other Slytherins. He’s hardly had the opportunity to see James because of his obligations with his housemates, training with Dumbledore, and Quidditch. Even all but one of his Prefect rounds with James has been canceled. James isn’t happy about it, but he’s doing his best. He’s rather busy as well, so it’s been easy at this point to pretend that’s why they haven’t seen each other very much. Regulus hasn’t had a moment alone with his brother since they left the Potter’s, so he doesn’t know how he’s handling it. He’s not sure he wants to know right now.

Regulus is doing fine with all of it, really. This is the first time that something has happened that’s spurred him into such an emotional reaction. There have been times he’s come close—his housemates saying something so downright vile that his anger crackles through his fingers with uncontrolled magic, but he’s always managed to keep his cool. Not to mention the full moon, but right now is different. His mind is raw and chafing from Dumbledore’s barrage on it for the past three hours. He’s bound to have moments like these now and then, even if he hates experiencing it. Knowing that doesn’t soothe him, though. Instead, it reminds him of how weak he is and how ill-prepared he is to be thrown to the snakes in this way.

“Stop it,” Regulus scolds himself, splashing cold water on his face. “Stop it, stop it, stop it.”

He takes another deep breath, looking at his reflection. He’s gotten thinner since he returned to school. He’s not sure if other people can tell because little time has passed, but he can feel it in his clothing and see it in the sharpness of his cheekbones. He needs to take better care of himself, but he’s having a hard time eating. Sleeping is even worse. 

Panic swoops through his gut as he checks the inside of his mouth for something, worried it got swallowed or misplaced during his meltdown. Breathing out an immediate sigh of relief, he locates the Mandrake leaf in his mouth. The full moon fell very soon after they returned to school this year—January 5th, which is vital to the Animagus process. He could have waited and given himself a bit more time to keep researching, but the full moon only happens once a month and he didn’t want to risk it. There’s no guarantee that he’ll be successful the first time he attempts the transformation, so he needs to start early. 

Looking back to that full moon, when Sirius called for him and he had to work with his brother and Kreacher to heal James, he wonders if it’s a bad omen that he begin the process that night. He still has a hard time thinking about that night. The way his hands had been slick with James’ blood as he attempted to seal the wound shut. Sirius crying next to him. That should have been enough to break him down, not this. He’s not sure why he’s so affected right now. Even when he and James argued about it later, in private, he wasn’t this bothered. At least not in a weepy way.

There’s also a deeply unsettling feeling resting in his chest these days that makes him feel like things might start moving faster than he expected. Once word reaches his parents of his departure from the Potters and his brother, they’ll come calling for him. He won’t be surprised if they ask him to come home for Easter. If they do, who is he to say no?

This line of thinking is what led him to start the Animagus process immediately after returning to school. He found himself in the greenhouses one night with James, clipping Mandrake leaves from Professor Sprout’s stores. It had been a nice night. James is so excited at the prospect of Regulus becoming an Animagus and is more than happy to help him, considering he’s been through the process before. 

Regulus’ first night back at school was harder than he expected. If he had better self-control, he would’ve waited to see James and gathered the Mandrake leaves by himself, but he didn’t. He asked him, via an anonymous letter, to meet him at the greenhouses late the next night. 

“You know,” James had said, grinning at Regulus as they stood together in the humid room.“If I didn’t know you so well, I would have thought I was being propositioned by a secret admirer.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, suppressing a smile. “I’m sure you would have loved that.”

James let out an exaggerated, offended gasp and placed his hand against his chest. “You wound me, Reg. My heart is yours and yours alone.”

“Oh, yes, your heart is mine. And my brother’s.”

“Hey!” James pouted. “That’s different and you know it.”

“Whatever,” Regulus shook his head, laughing quietly. “Can we cut these now?”

“Let me take a look at them,” James said as he pushed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’s best to be particular about which one you choose. It’s not easy, unfortunately. Took us about three years to figure it all out.”

That had concerned Regulus a bit, learning that it was so difficult for even James and Sirius. He doesn’t have time to waste on failed attempts and simple mistakes. If things move faster than expected, he needs all the skills he can acquire. He also worries, slightly, that his parents won’t allow him to return to school once they have him back. Regulus is already theorizing ways to get around that if they try it.

Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, Regulus schools his expression into one of effortless nonchalance and casts a fresh glamour on the circles forming under his eyes. It’s time to meet James.

—

“Hello lovely,” James smiles as Regulus slips into the Come-and-Go Room. 

“Hi,” Regulus breathes, the high points of his cheeks tinted pink.

“I feel like I haven’t seen that blush of yours in ages,” James sighs, reaching for Regulus. They haven’t had nearly enough time together following the holidays. This is the first night in over a week that they’ve gotten to be together like this.

“I know,” Regulus murmurs, apologetically. “Sorry, I’m late. Ran over a bit with Dumbledore.”

“I figured,” James plants a kiss on the top of his head. “How was it?”

“Fine,” Regulus says, stiffly. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” James tells him. It’s not a lie, exactly. He’s been struggling with the forced distance between himself and Regulus, but otherwise, things are fine. Quidditch and school keep him busy and the Marauders are hoping to pull off a large prank in the coming weeks. “The girls are concerned about you.”

“Are they?” Regulus questions, drawing back to look at James. His eyebrows furrow, a tiny wrinkle appearing in between them. “Have they said something?”

“Lily mentioned it to me,” James admits. He prickles with guilt, knowing he hasn’t told Regulus that Lily knows about the two of them. “Asked me if you were okay.”

“What did you say?”

“Not much,” James assures him. “I just said that you’re taking some space from everybody, but that I didn’t know exactly what was going on.”

Regulus nods, burrowing back into James’ neck. He breathes in deeply before letting it out just as explosively. “Merlin, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” James whispers, tracing circles on Regulus’ back. “But we’ve got tomorrow, too, at least, with Prefect rounds. Can you sneak away after? I can’t stay the night because we have early practice the next day, but I can hang out for a bit.”

Regulus sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we sit down?”

“Of course,” James says, confused. “Are you alright? Feeling ill?”

“I’m okay,” Regulus says, sitting down next to him on the couch. “It’s just—Dumbledore asked me to request a change in Prefect partners.”

“What?” James asks, sharply. “Why would he ask you to do that?”

Regulus shakes his head. James studies him, noticing changes in his appearance he hadn’t previously. His cheekbones are more prominent and his robes hang off of him differently. When Regulus turns to meet his eyes, James realizes how exhausted he looks, even if there are no bags under his eyes.

“He thinks it’s a bad idea for the two of us to remain civil in the way we would have to as partners. It’s bullshit, honestly, but I don’t know if I can refuse. I’ll wait though—I’ll request the change after tomorrow so we still have that bit of time together.”

James’ throat tightens and he feels his eyes start to sting. Blinking, he chokes out, “He’s taking everything from you.”

Regulus’ eyes soften and he twists his mouth in sadness. He reaches for James’ hand and squeezes it. “He can try, but he can’t take everything. I’ll always have you, even if it’s in the dark. If you’ll let me.”

“What if I don’t want it to be that way?” James questions, anger rising over his sadness. “Regulus, we deserve better. You— you deserve so much better.”

“You deserve better,”  Regulus tells him, squeezing his hand as his voice shakes. “And—and I’m so fucking sorry that I can’t give you that.”

“It’s not your fault,” James says to him, desperately. “Regulus, none of this is your fault. It’s not you. You give me everything you can and I’d never want anything that wasn’t you, but love, how are you going to manage this? He’s isolating you. You—you’re getting so thin and you look exhausted. I’m worried about you.”

Regulus' hand goes to his face, lightly touching the space under his eyes. “Damnit, did the glamours not hold? I was a bit upset after Dumbledore’s, so I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m usually much better about all of this, but—”

“Glamours?” James asks. “Regulus, you’re casting glamours? Why do you need to do that?”

“The bags under my eyes,” Regulus gestures at his face, confusedly. “I have to cover them.”

“The glamours held,” James murmurs. He puts a hand on Regulus’ cheek. “I just meant your eyes—they look tired. You look tired, love. I can see it all over you. I can feel it on you.”

“That’s just because you know me so well,” Regulus mutters. “Other people can’t tell.”

“Probably not,” James allows. “But that doesn’t make it any better. You need to take care of yourself. This is just the beginning.”

“I know,” Regulus whispers, his resigned as he meets James’. “I know. You have to take care of yourself, too, you know. I haven’t forgotten about the full moon.”

James casts his eyes down, racking his brain for a change in subject. “Have you eaten today?”

“Some yoghurt at breakfast,” Regulus dismisses, avoiding James’ eye. “Didn’t have time for lunch and Dumbledore’s meeting started at the same time as dinner. I’m not hungry right now.”

“Reg,” James says, sadly. “You need to eat more than that. I’m going to grab you something from the kitchens, okay? What would you like?”

Regulus opens and closes his mouth, clearly thinking better of whatever it is he was going to say. “Something simple. Something warm, maybe.”

“Got it,” James says, giving him a quick kiss. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Regulus nods, settling back onto the couch. James looks back over his shoulder as he approaches the door, watching as his eyelids flutter shut and tension bleeds out of his body.

James throws on his invisibility cloak and books it to the kitchens. The elves are happy to see him and eager to help, but James can’t indulge them in their usual conversation tonight. He sits and chats after requesting cheese toasties, but once they’re made he bids his goodbyes to them and makes his way back to the Come-and-Go Room.

He takes his usual route back to the seventh floor, cutting through passageways and darting behind tapestries. He’s on the fifth floor when he hears voices in the corridor. Unable to refrain from his curiosity, James approaches, slowly.

To his surprise, it’s Marlene and Dorcas, standing in the hallway. Marlene is standing against the stone wall and Dorcas hovers in front of her. Their voices are hushed and James watches as Marlene’s hand reaches for one of Dorcas’ long braids, playfully twisting it around her finger.

“You’re different than them,” Marlene whispers, her pale green eyes shining in the dark. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

James' eyes widen in realization as the scene before him unfolds. He’s known Marlene for as long as he can remember—their mums are friends so they’ve always been friends. They might not be as close as they were as children, but she’s like a sister to James. That said, he had no idea about…this. He does know, however, that Marlene would have his head if she knew he was eavesdropping on something like this. Carefully, he backs away, planning to take an alternate way back to Regulus.

Since he’s a certified idiot and doesn’t check his surroundings before moving, he bumps into a suit of armour. It’s not exactly major, just a bit of a tap, but in an otherwise silent hallway, it gets the girls' attention.

“What was that?” Marlene asks, her head whipping around. “You heard that, right?”

Slowly, Dorcas steps away from Marlene, frowning slightly. She takes her wand out. “ Revelio.”

James holds his breath as they wait for something to happen, but nothing does. No one, or nothing, is revealed.

“Maybe it was Peeves?” Dorcas says, turning back to Marlene.

“Maybe,” Marlene says, unsure. “Do you smell that?”

“What?” Dorcas questions, sniffing slightly.

“Cheese toasties,” Marlene mutters. “I feel like I’m going mad right now.”

“I do smell it, actually. Maybe it was just someone sneaking off to get food from the kitchens. Should we head back now anyway?”

“Probably,” Marlene admits. “Walk me back?”

James watches their retreating forms as they head in the direction of  Gryffindor Tower. He lets out an explosive breath, letting his head fall back against the wall. That was the closest he’s come to getting caught sneaking around in ages. Not to mention that what he saw was—surprising, to say the least. He wonders if Regulus knows.

About ten minutes later, he slips through the door of the Come-and-Go Room. “Alright, cheese toasties for you. Perfect meal for any situation. Say, does Dorcas talk about Marlene much?”

Walking closer, he finds Regulus curled up on the couch, asleep. His head resting is on James’ discarded robes.

Letting out a fond sigh, James sets the plate of sandwiches on the table near the couch. Carefully, so as to not wake him, he sits next to Regulus. Helplessly, he traces his features with his pointer finger. He memorizes the line of his nose, the cushion of his lips, and the curve of his cheekbones. Eventually, he presses a kiss to Regulus’ cheeks.

“I’m not going to let you waste away, even if he’ll allow it,” James tells him, his voice hushed. “You’re not going to be alone, I promise. I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

James means it. He really does, but he’s also scared. Things are happening fast. Regulus’ change in demeanor has been noticed across the school and no one is refraining from mentioning it, especially not to James and Sirius. The girls said more than he mentioned to Regulus, but he didn’t want to make him feel guilty. No one is pleased. The worst part is that he and Sirius can’t defend him, not really.

He slides behind Regulus, holding him. If he closes his eyes, a part of him can pretend like none of this has happened yet. He can tell himself that they’re still on holiday, spending lazy days together.

But James isn’t a fool, and the lies he tells himself when his eyes are closed don’t bring him much comfort for long. All James wants is for Regulus to be safe and unchanged. And his mum. James really wants his mum these days.

—

It’s bittersweet, knowing this is the last Prefect round that Regulus will share with James. They’re keeping it light, not mentioning it. He assumes if either of them has feelings about it, they’ll talk about it later, in the Room of Requirement. 

“Thank Merlin we’re almost finished,” James sighs. “I’m fucking exhausted. Quidditch is kicking my ass.”

“You’re your own captain,” Regulus says, amused. “Maybe take a day off? That is an option, you know.”

“And risk losing the cup?” James scoffs, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I won’t let you take that home.”

“We’ll see what happens then,” Regulus smirks. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about Quidditch at this point, but he’ll still put up a fair fight in his upcoming matches. He always does.

James continues chattering about Quidditch and the stakes of his upcoming match against Ravenclaw this weekend. He’s worried about their seeker, but Regulus knows he doesn’t need to be. Gryffindor is a solid team and the Ravenclaws are inconsistent with their victories. Regulus tells him as much, making it clear he thinks James will win.

“Hopefully,” James murmurs. “It’d be nice to win the cup this year. I know we’re not there yet, but I don’t know. I’d like to have something just—good happen, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Regulus nods. “I know.”

They walk in comfortable silence after that, taking note of the hallways and reminding students to return to their dormitories. Regulus’ presence seems to frighten a few of the students they come across, glancing at him warily as James kindly tells them to make curfew on time. 

It’d be a bit funny to Regulus if it wasn’t for good reason. He knows word has spread fast throughout the castle about his changed allegiance. He doubts many of them believed him to be on the light side anyway, but it’s a bit intriguing how fast they’ve gone from ignoring him to fearing him. Regulus didn’t think he’d wield that much power so quickly.

“Should we go up to the seventh floor then?” Regulus asks, quietly. It’s just turned to 11 o’clock and they haven’t come across any other students out of bed.

“Yup,” James smiles. “I can only stay for about an hour or so because—”

“Quidditch practice,” Regulus finishes for him. “I’m aware, don’t worry.” James lets out a laugh, warm and loud. It makes Regulus smile.

His smile drops quickly though, seeing Mulciber, Nott, and Avery rounding the corner. He stiffens immediately, taking a step away from James. 

“Reg,” Mulciber greets him with a grin. Regulus suppresses a grimace at his usage of the nickname, not missing the way James stands up straighter when he hears it.

“Mulciber,” Regulus nods. “Not in the mood to make curfew, I see.”

“We were just going for a walk,” Avery supplies, nonchalantly. “Would you like to join us?”

“I’m in the middle of the rounds,” Regulus dismisses. “Maybe next time.”

“Ah, but Black, it’s just past eleven,” Avery smiles. “I used to shag a bird who was a Prefect. I know that’s when the night rounds end. Come on, come with us.”

“He said no,” James snaps. Regulus glances at him out of the corner of his eyes, cursing mentally. He can see where James’ wand is fisted in his hand.

“We weren’t talking to you, you filthy blood traitor.” Nott snarls. “How is it even possible that you’re a pureblood anyway, Potter? You’re a mudblood lover, just like your stupid family.”

“Don’t you dare mention my family,” James growls, raising his wand. “And don’t say that word. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Watch it, Nott,” Regulus snaps, desperate to diffuse the situation. “There’s no need to engage like this. Just keep walking. I’ll meet you back at the common room.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re still soft on him,” Nott sneers. He nods toward James. “It’s his family you shacked up with, isn’t it? Still care about what they think, huh?”

“Teddy,” Mulciber warns, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Regulus is just better behaved than us. Raised with that Black decorum, right, Reg?”

Clenching his jaw, Regulus nods. “Right. Anyway, go back to the common room, all of you. I’m not in the mood to hear about all of you getting detentions from Filch tomorrow morning.”

“You’re not going to come?” Mulciber questions, glancing between Regulus and James.

“I will,” Regulus corrects, refraining from rolling his eyes. “I have to meet someone in the astronomy tower in a bit. I’ll be back soon.” Regulus can feel James’ eyes boring into the side of his head. He can’t bring himself to look at him right now.

“Atta boy,” Avery laughs. “Have a good one, Regulus, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes,” Regulus sighs. “Very funny, Avery.”

They leave, laughing and talking loudly through the halls like no one can touch them. Maybe they can’t.

Regulus turns to James once their voices can no longer be heard through the corridors. He rubs a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry about that.”

James’ jaw is clenched and he’s not looking at Regulus. “They’re fucking awful. How can you stand it?”

“I don’t know,” Regulus admits, eventually. “I suppose it’s because I have to. I don’t have much of a choice.”

James looks at Regulus then, his eyes regretful. He shakes his head. “I know. I know you can’t—it’s just—fuck. I hate them, you know? How is it they get away with acting like that?”

Regulus shrugs. “It’s not just them. It’s all of the Slytherins. Some of the Ravenclaws too, from what I’ve been told. They’re just better at keeping it to themselves.”

James scoffs, disbelieving. “And the astronomy tower thing? What was that?”

“It was just quick thinking. A bit of a lie,” Regulus explains. “There was some talk amongst the Slytherins last month about me never having a girlfriend. Barty’s been spreading the rumor that I’m a bit of a playboy to distract them.”

James shakes his head, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

“I really am sorry,” Regulus whispers. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. If I could choose—if I could choose it would never be like this.”

“I know,” James murmurs. “Should we go?”

Regulus glances down the hallway that the Slytherins just left through. He looks back to James, twisting his mouth. “I don’t think it’s a good idea tonight. I’m really sorry, I just— it’s really important right now, that I gain their trust.”

James nods tightly. “I get it. I do. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way either.”

“James,” Regulus murmurs, reaching out for him before drawing his hand back. They’re too exposed right now. Plenty of students sneak around at night—he can’t risk someone seeing them. The fact that they’re having this conversation without a silencing charm is already foolish enough on Regulus’ part.

James stares at Regulus’ hand, now hanging limply by his side. He looks up at Regulus, his face lined with hurt. “I’ll see you later, Regulus. Let me know when you have the time to see me again.”

 Regulus wants to call out for him, or grab his hand and lead him to the Room of Requirement, but he can’t. Instead, he watches as James walks away, tracking his form until he pulls the cloak over him, stealing himself from Regulus’ view.

Once he’s gone, Regulus stands there for a while. Let’s himself feel the impact of that. It’s almost enough to make himself abandon it all, but he can’t. 

Focusing on his Occlumency, Regulus steels himself before turning around and making his way down to the dungeons.

—

When James arrives back at the Gryffindor Tower, he closes the portrait hole so hard that it rattles against the door frame. Distantly, he can hear the Fat Lady protesting, but he doesn’t have it in him to care.It’s late and there are classes tomorrow, so the common room is empty. At least he thinks it is.

“Woah there. Rough night?”

Startled, James looks up to see Remus and Sirius watching him from a sofa in the back corner of the darkened room. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“You’re back earlier than we thought you’d be,” Remus notes, curiously. “Did something happen?”

“Had my last Prefect round with Reg tonight,” James explains. He looks around the room. “Where’s Pete?”

“Upstairs, sleeping,” Sirius supplies. “Last round? Why?”

James sits down on the ground across from them, clenching his jaw. “Dumbledore told him he had to request a change. Says we can’t be civil enough to be prefect partners around everyone else.”

“Bullshit,” Sirius exclaims. “Hardly anyone sees you during rounds, why would it matter?”

“Who knows,” James murmurs. “That’s not even the worst bit.”

“What else happened?” Remus asks, tightening his arm around Sirius’ shoulders.

“We ran into some of the Slytherins—Mulciber, Nott, and Avery,” James growls, his fingers flexing for his wand as he thinks about what happened. “They said some nasty shit about me and my family. They tried to pull Regulus into it too, but he didn’t take the bait. Honestly, I think the only reason there wasn’t an all-out duel was because of him.”

“Did he tell them off?”

James hesitates. “Not exactly. I don’t think it’d be a good idea for him to do something like that, all things considered, but he did his best to diffuse the situation.”

“I wish he’d put them in their place,” Sirius grumbles. “We all know he could. I mean, it’s been less than a month back at school and the influence he holds over them is insane.”

“It wouldn’t make sense for Regulus to do that,” Remus says, shaking his head. “I mean, why would it bother him if his friends are saying shit like that? It shouldn’t, according to Death Eaters.”

“They’re not his friends,” James and Sirius snap in unison.

Remus’ mouth tightens. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, Moony,” James mutters, apologetically. “We didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I’m just well—I’m upset.”

Remus softens. “That’s okay, James. It’s rough.”

James nods and the three of them are quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds passing throughout the common room are the pitter-patter of rain against the windows and the crackle of the fire. It’s soothing, honestly.

“Regulus began the Animagus process,” James says suddenly. With everything that’s happened this month, he’d forgotten to fill them in on that.

“What?” Sirius questions, sitting up excitedly. “When?”

“Erm,” James glances at Remus. “The last full moon. We gathered the Mandrake leaves for him the night before.”

“Ah,” Remus nods. “Well, good. I hope it’s useful for him. Can’t wait to hear what he ends up being.”

“Who’s to say we won’t see it?” Sirius questions. “I mean, it’s a perfect opportunity to be able to spend time with him inconspicuously.”

“He’s not joining us on the moons,” Remus says, sharply. “Not after last time and not knowing there might be other wolves in the forest. He doesn’t know the forest like we do. It’s not safe.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Sirius shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want him around on the moons. I don’t think Peter should know that he’s an Animagus.”

“Sirius,” James starts, sighing.

“No,” Sirius murmurs, shooting James a look. “This isn’t just me thinking Wormtail can be annoying. It’s like—it’s a security thing. Regulus will have to use his Animagus form as his task continues. No one outside of this circle and whoever else Regulus tells should know.”

“You’re right,” James admits, watching the lightning crackle outside the window. “It’s not safe.”

“I feel like nothing is safe anymore,” Remus says, quietly. “Not the forest, not the outside world, sometimes not even the school itself.” He catches James’ eye. “Things are changing out there. I don’t know about you guys, but it feels different. It feels worse.”

“We need to find a way to help,” Sirius mutters. “To fight against it. Make things easier for Reg and better for everyone else.”

“We will,” James murmurs, absently. “I’m sure we will.”

Outside, a brutal winter storm rages on. James can’t help but wonder if it’s a sign. After all, not all storms in magical areas just happen. Some of them are made.

—

“There you are, Reg,” Mulciber greets when Regulus enters the common room. Regulus is not in the mood.

“Mulciber,” He nods. “Just so you know, I prefer to be addressed by my full name. I’m not one for—terms of endearment.”

Mulciber chuckles. “Got it, Regulus. Anyway, take a seat. Parkinson has some information you’d like to hear.”

“Does he?” Regulus raises a brow, meeting Barty and Evan’s eyes. Their faces reveal nothing. They must not know.

“Something big is happening,” Parkinson says, once Regulus has sat down. “Something approved by the Dark Lord himself.”

Regulus' skin prickles at his words. He tries to conceal how much this has piqued his interest, instead letting the others clamour to get more information from Parkinson. 

“Calm down,” Parkinson grins, looping a lazy arm over the sofa back behind him. “Most of you will be informed. Invited, if you will. It’s a test, for once we’re out of school.”

“What is it exactly? Can’t you spare any details?” Barty questions, eagerly. Regulus shoots him a look. 

Parkinson is a showboat, always has been. Whether it’s on the Quidditch pitch or in the classroom, he likes to remind people that he’s better than them. Knows more. This desperate, cloying need for attention and admiration will be his downfall someday. Regulus doesn’t doubt he’s been sworn to secrecy on this but is defying the order. It’s doubtful that Voldemort wants a group of schoolboys discussing his plans in the open.

“Well…” Parkinson teases. “I suppose I can tell you a bit since you’ll know anyway,”

“Go on then, Perc,” Avery urges, excitedly. “Tell us!”

Parkinson grins nastily at them, allowing his eyes to land on each one of them before he speaks. “It’s a raid for us Slytherin boys. We’re going to get our hands on some mudbloods.”