On Begged and Borrowed Time

December, 1971

“Is it scary?” 

Sirius glances up from Hogwarts: A History and smiles at Regulus. Regulus is frowning, his bottom lip sticking out more than usual. It’s Christmas break during Sirius’ first year at Hogwarts and it’s the first time he’s been home in months. His little brother hasn't left his side since they picked him up from the train station.

“Is what scary?”

“You know,” Regulus sighs, annoyed. He avoids Sirius’ eyes as he tugs at the sleeve of his pyjama shirt. “Hogwarts.”

“No, Reggie, it’s not scary,” Sirius shakes his head. “It’s fun.”

Regulus twists his mouth and glances back at Sirius. “It seems scary.”

“I guess it is, a bit,” Sirius admits. “But mostly it’s fun. You get to go to classes and use magic. You make friends and you can eat whatever you want. It’s nothing like home.”

“I guess that sounds like fun.”

Sirius laughs, quietly. It’s never been a good idea to be too loud when their parents are home. 

“You’re going to love my friends,” Sirius assures him. “They’re amazing. Especially James. He’s my best friend.”

Regulus scrunches his nose, brow furrowing. “But you’re my best friend.”

“I'm your brother,” Sirius reminds him, smiling slightly. “It’s not the same.”

Regulus doesn’t say anything in response to that, so Sirius returns to his book, pointing something out on the page.

Regulus returns to his bedroom to sleep that night. For the first time he can remember, Sirius lies in his bed at Grimmauld Place alone. He feels sad for something that hasn’t happened yet.

—

April, 1977

Easter break is quickly coming to a close. James has spent the entirety of it with Remus, Peter, and Sirius, of course. It’s been nice—relaxing even. They’re sitting in the dorm now, aside from Pete, who met a girl recently and is with her, based on the map.

James is lazing about today. It’s around noon and he hasn’t changed out of his pyjamas yet. He’s savouring these last few days. Yawning, he leans forward, reaching for the folded Daily Prophet on the foot of his bed.

“Is Wormtail really shagging that Hufflepuff?” Sirius asks, laughing. “Well, good for him.”

“It’s nice that he found someone,” Remus allows, pulling a drag from a cigarette as he reads his book. “Don’t you think, James?”

But James’ hands are trembling as he stares at the Prophet. “Regulus Black and Pandora Malfoy: This time, Pandora’s Box Held an Engagement Ring!” His mind races, struggling to come to terms with what he’s seeing. Just above the article, a picture of Regulus and Pandora flashes. They’re holding hands and Pandora—Pandora has a ring on her finger. The worst part though, the part that really makes James feel like he’s going to be sick, is the way Regulus is looking at her. He’s smiling, just slightly, but his eyes on her and his gaze is warm. Attentive. Affectionate. James is familiar with that look.

“James, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, his voice edged with concern.

“It’s—” James shakes his head, at a loss. He just stares at the paper, unsure how to explain it. Doesn’t know how to say it out loud.

Sirius frowns and slips off of Remus’ bed and walks over, grabbing the paper. James watches as he processes what he’s reading. The furrowed brow followed by the slight widening of his eyes and a gasp.

“What is it?” Remus asks, concerned. “Another attack?”

“Regulus is engaged,” Sirius says after a few moments, his voice flat. “To Pandora Malfoy.”

“What?” Remus questions. He stands quickly, coming to a stop behind Sirius, and reads the article over his shoulder. His reaction is similar to Sirius’. James feels numb.

“There’s absolutely no way this is real,” Sirius says finally, shaking his head. He looks back up at James. “James, you know that there’s no way this is real, right?”

“I—” James stutters, at a loss for words again. He knows, okay? He knows it can’t be real, but there’s just something about it—something in that photo of the two of them—that leaves James’ head spinning.

“Prongs, this fucking bullshit,” Sirius tells him, his voice firm. He hands the newspaper to Remus before he places his hands on James’ shoulder. “This—this is all our mother. Clearly, she’s got Regulus on a tight leash with his return home. That’s all it is.”

“But…” James starts, weakly. He twists his mouth looking at Sirius. “The picture.”

“A rare photo of Regulus smiling,” Sirius dismisses. “Nothing more. Seriously, it’s rare, but not impossible. 

“Sirius is right, James,” Remus agrees, still looking over the newspaper. “This isn’t some love match. This is a political choice.”

“What do you mean?”

Remus is quiet, and his face is grim.“Pandora’s family just picked their side in the war.” He’s still scanning the newspaper. “It’s fluffed up as tabloid gossip, but anyone with political knowledge will recognize this as more.”

“He’s right,” Sirius nods, clearly thinking. “Marriages for our family are strategic anyway, but something like this, now? It’s a statement.”

“The picture,” James repeats. He’s not arguing exactly. He really isn’t. He just can’t help but feel something prickly growing in his gut the more he thinks about it. Regulus’ eyes on Pandora and his hand in hers. Barely any time has passed since they broke up.

“The picture was probably taken twenty times before they got the right one,” Sirius informs him. He jostles James a little bit. “I know this is—” Sirius moves his head side to side, clearly trying to decide which word to use, “—surprising, but it’s not something to worry about, honestly. Regulus is probably annoyed by the whole thing. I mean, you can’t possibly believe that he wanted this. And anyway, you only thing you needed to see in that article to know it’s a sham is the mention of Reg’s ‘undeniable charisma’.” Beside him, Remus snorts.

“Prongs,” Remus says, and James can’t believe there’s a smile playing on his lips, but there is. “You do know Regulus is gay, right?”

Sirius nods quickly, looking from Remus and back to James, smiling too. “He’s so gay, Prongs. Like, extremely homosexual.”

“For you,” Remus adds, his eyes shining with amusement. His smile fades though, when he sees James’ face.

“Not anymore,” James murmurs, bitterly. Sirius and Remus stand in front of him and they’re clearly concerned. He hasn’t spoken about any of it very much and no one has really broached the subject. Not really.

“That’s not true,” Sirius says, softly. “He’s just trying to be noble.”

“Maybe,” James says, with a a careless shrug, but his heart twists anyway.

“You never really explained it all,” Remus says, watching James carefully. “The break-up.”

James looks at him. He twists his mouth again and looks out the window. The sun is shining, for some reason. “He said it was always going to happen. He always knew it would have to end. My joining the Order just moved things along a bit quicker.”

“So…” Remus begins, slowly. “He did it to protect you.”

“As if I need protection,” James scoffs, and he knows how childish he sounds. He knows that everything Regulus is up against is bigger than him. He knows that even without Voldemort around, he’d likely need protection from Walburga and the rest of them. 

“This marriage thing is probably a protection for you too,” Sirius murmurs. “If there’s any chance of my mother finding out about Regulus being gay, not to mention finding out about the two of you, it’d be a disaster. Not just for him. You’d have a target on your back.”

James is quiet then because yes, of course. He knows that. He knows what Regulus and Sirius’ parents would do if they found out, but the selfish part of him doesn’t care. The foolish part of him almost wants them to know, just so he can face them. The things they’ve done to Sirius and Regulus are enough fuel for him to survive whatever they throw at him.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to have watch him with her ,” James spits, the final word like venom, surprising himself. “They’ll have to keep up appearances. She’s the reason Dumbledore knows about all of this. She’s the reason Regulus is off fighting the war.”

“And because of that she’s the only reason you have a shot at surviving it,” Remus reminds him, not unkindly. “That any of us do, according to her. Including Regulus.”

James shrinks under Remus’ words. Guilt gnawing at him. He doesn’t want to be like this. He doesn’t want to be the jealous, selfish ex-boyfriend, but he is. He can’t help it, not really. Not when he had everything he wanted and it got taken away from him. Especially not when he’s being replaced, whether it’s real or not.

“I wonder how Regulus feels about it all,” Sirius thinks aloud, contemplatively. “I suppose he’s probably glad it’s Pandora since she knows about everything—the prophecy and the two of you. You don’t need to worry about her thinking it’s real.”

“The article said they wouldn’t marry until the two of them were of age,” Remus adds. “That’s not until next summer, if I’m remembering Pandora’s birthday correctly. This could all be over before it even happens.”

“This better be over by next summer,” Sirius mutters. “I think I’ll go mad if it isn’t.”

James frowns, furrowing his brow. Next summer is still over a year away. The thought of going through all of this for that much longer stings. 

He knows they’ll be lucky if it ends then. Who knows how long it’ll really take. He wonders who he’ll be—who all of them will be—when it’s all set and done.

James has always been able to picture his future. A long and successful Quidditch career. Kids, eventually. His friends by his side. This year, Regulus got added to all those fantasies. Now, in this moment, James realizes he can’t see what he’s going to have anymore. He doesn’t know when that happened and he doesn’t know what it means.

—

Dorcas sits across from Regulus in their train car, her arms crossed. She studies him, trying to take notice of any marks of violence left on him from his visit home. Her eyes can’t help but wander to his forearm. She wants to ask, but she can’t bring herself to.

The thing is, Dorcas likes to act unaffected. A lot of the time she is. But this? It’s eating at her. She spent the majority of her break thinking about him and whether he was safe. He didn’t reply to any of her letters, which Dorcas expected, but she couldn’t rid herself of the anxious feeling it gave her. It occupied her every moment. Even when she visited Marlene it was there, sitting in the back of her mind and making her distant.

Regulus sits quietly in between Barty and Evan. Pandora is beside her. They’re about twenty minutes into the train ride back to Hogwarts and no one has spoken aside from perfunctory greetings. Regulus looks—well, to be completely honest, he looks fine. He looks well, actually. Dorcas doesn’t know if he’s improved his glamours or if he’s actually been eating and sleeping again. 

Anyway, he might look fine, but there’s no chance he actually is. Even if he’s pretending to be while he reads some Muggle book he’s charmed to look like a textbook.

There was a raid just two days ago, on Easter Sunday. A pro-muggleborn organization’s luncheon was attacked. Dorcas knows from her mother’s gossip that Regulus was likely there, as well as Percy Parkinson. 

She also knows that Percy is dead. His death was announced in the Prophet just this morning and his Quidditch captain portrait was used in the obituary. When Dorcas saw it, she knew that it had something to do with Regulus. She doesn’t know how she knows, but she does. Dorcas wonders if the silence in their compartment is because the others do as well.

Her eyes slide from Regulus to Barty. He’s leaned against the wall, staring out the window, frowning. Evan has a book open, but his eyes aren’t moving, so Dorcas knows he’s pretending. Pandora is knitting something, a fuzzy, misshapen scarf if Dorcas had to guess. Something to keep her hands busy.

Dorcas sighs, loudly. Everyone’s eyes snap to her. Except for Regulus.

“Are we going to talk about it?” she asks, staring pointedly at Regulus.

Regulus still doesn’t acknowledge her. Barty and Evan exchange a look.

“Regulus.”

He still doesn’t look at her.

“ Regulus,” Dorcas snaps, and that gets his attention. He raises his head to look at her, slowly. Dorcas holds in a sharp intake of breath when their eyes meet.

Regulus might look fine, but his eyes are—they’re different. Cold and blazing at the same time. He seems to be daring her to continue and for a moment she wavers, wondering what exactly Regulus was up to this break.

“You don’t get to act like nothing happened,” Dorcas snaps anyway. “You went home for a week and didn’t respond to any of my letters. Now you’re engaged to Pandora , there was a raid, and Percy Parkinson is dead. Start talking.”

Regulus narrows his eyes at her and Dorcas feels even further out of her depth, but she doesn’t back down. She keeps her eyes on him, furious. Furious at him for what he’s likely done and furious at the world for forcing her best friend into all of this.

“Our parents arranged a match,” Regulus informs her, his tone icy. “It was announced in The Prophet. You all saw it, I recieved your post. You know that my mother monitors my mail.”

“I forgot about that,” Barty admits, sheepishly. “Sorry if I got you into any trouble, Reg.”

“Kreacher got them to me before she saw them,” Regulus replies, his eyes still trained on Dorcas. “But that doesn’t mean she couldn’t have gotten her hands on my letters to all of you.”

“My mother and father were persuaded by Lucius,” Pandora murmurs. “From the sound of it, Regulus’ were as well.”

“It’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Evan questions, unsure. Regulus looks at him then and Evan continues, trying to explain himself further. “I mean, that it’s Pandora. It’s better the two of you than either of you getting matched with someone else.”

“It could be much worse,” Pandora agrees, quietly.

“I’ve never seen a Prophet article that was such pure bullshit,” Barty scoffs. 

Regulus looks at Barty and Dorcas can tell he’s considering something. He places a bookmark in between the pages he’s reading and sets it down in his lap, staring at the cover. He fidgets with the corner and Dorcas feels relief flood her body. He’s still in there. It’s still Reg, nervous and overthinking, even if he seems changed in a way that she can’t identify.

“Yes,” Regulus nods, eventually. His voice is quiet, but firm. The sound of laughter and talking rings outside their door. He glances up, casting a silencing charm. He looks at all of them, but his eyes settle on Dorcas. “The Dark Lord thought so as well.”

The silence that follows is physical. Dorcas can feel it, the way it washes over her and her body gets hot and prickly from what Regulus just said. Her eyes go to his forearm again, but Regulus doesn’t reveal anything.

“You met him?” Evan asks, his voice low.

Regulus nods. “The day after the attack.”

“You were there?” Barty questions. Unlike before, he doesn’t sound so excited about the idea. 

“I was.”

“What did he say to you?” Dorcas questions. “He doesn’t believe it?”

Regulus seems to consider her question before answering. “I don’t know that he’s quite so invested in mine and Pandora’s love life. He said it was something to celebrate because of the alliance it creates, but the tabloid nonsense of it all seemed to amuse him.”

“Did you…” Barty trails off. “Did you get marked?”

Regulus hesitates and Dorcas feels her heart clench her chest. She knew it would happen, she even helped Regulus to achieve it, but she’s not ready for what it means for all of them.

“No,” Regulus shakes his head, rubbing at his arm. “No, that’ll happen in the summer.”

Silence sits with the five of them again. There are no sighs of relief or shocked gasps. Just silence.

“What was he like?” Evan asks.

Regulus frowns. “He was cold. Not just in demeanour, but physically. It felt like the temperature dropped as soon as I stepped into the same room as him.”

Dorcas feels a chill go through her, just thinking about it.

“He questioned me about my loyalties,” Regulus continues, fidgeting with his hands again. Dorcas notices burn marks singed across them. Something that could have easily been healed and hidden before getting on the train, but clearly wasn’t. “He said that my stint with the Potters was something of concern. Reminded me that secrets can’t really be kept.”

Evan inhales sharply, and Regulus twists his mouth. “He mentioned Sirius and James by name. I assured him that they weren’t a problem, but he informed me that if they were, they’d need to be addressed.” 

“They’ll be fine,” Evan says weakly, like he doesn’t believe himself.

Regulus glances up then his eyes hard again. “He told me I reminded him of himself when he was younger.”

“That’s not true,” Pandora interjects, harshly. She’s scowling. “The two of you are nothing alike, Regulus.”

“Maybe not,” Regulus shrugs, looking down again. “He asked me about Parkinson as well.”

“Parkinson?” Barty asks, confused. “What does he have to do with you?”

“He’s dead,” Regulus says, his voice flat. “I was the last person to see him alive.”

“Regulus,” Evan whispers, his eyes wide.

Regulus looks up again. He doesn’t look unnerved, but he keeps fidgeting with his hands, pulling on the cuff of his sleeve. 

“I was the last person to see Parkinson alive,” he repeats. 

Understanding dawns across Barty and Evan’s faces. Evan pales and Barty blinks harshly. Dorcas doesn’t bother looking at Pandora. She likely knew it was going to happen before Regulus did.

“Why?” Dorcas asks, and to her horror, her voice shakes.

Regulus looks pained then, if only for just a second. It flashes across his face—the guilt and confusion—and then it’s gone.

“It was necessary,” he says, flatly.

“Did he find out about something?” Barty questions, all traces of his usual humour absent.

“No,” Regulus responds, immediately. His eyes wander to Pandora. “He was just—unlucky.”

Dorcas feels her breathing grow more shallow as he absorbs Regulus’ words. Unlucky. He was unlucky, so Regulus killed him. She knows there’s more to it, but she doesn’t even know where to begin in prying further.

Beside her, Pandora is still and unspeaking. She must have known about it. She hasn’t objected to anything Regulus has said and doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

“Does Potter know about your engagement?” Barty asks, suddenly. 

Regulus looks at Barty, still frowning. “If he reads the Prophet, then yes. If not, he’ll find out about it soon enough.”

“You’re not going to talk to him about it?” Barty questions.

“Why on earth would I do that?” Regulus sounds genuinely confused. 

“I just…” Barty shakes his head. “Don’t you think he deserves an explanation? And, I don’t know, wouldn’t it be good for you to talk to him after everything that’s happened?”

Again, Dorcas sees just a flicker of emotion across Regulus’ face, but it’s gone just as fast. She thinks of what she saw between James and Lily at James’ birthday party and wonders if she should tell Regulus. If it would make things easier. But he shakes his head again. “Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t. It’s not safe for him to have any tie to me at this point.”

“I think you should talk to him,” Pandora murmurs, gently. She’s twisting her engagement ring nervously. “It wouldn’t cause any harm.”

Regulus stares at her before tearing his eyes away. “Word is going to spread, I’m sure. About me meeting Voldemort, I mean. Probably my involvement with the raid as well. If any of you don’t want to be attached to me because of that, now is the time to walk away.”

His eyes settle on Dorcas once again, a knowing look in them. Her heart skips a beat because she knows he knows. She doesn’t know how he does, but it’s clear then. 

He’s giving her an out. A chance at something with Marlene, who will hear news of this just as everyone else at school will. Dorcas knows that she won’t associate with Dorcas if she knows she’s still friends with Regulus despite what has happened. 

She blinks quickly, staring at Regulus. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Barty rolls his eyes. “None of us are going anywhere, Regulus. Where you go, we follow.”

Regulus doesn’t seem comforted by that statement. He doesn’t say anything. He just keeps looking at Dorcas, an unreadable expression on his face.

She tears her eyes away, holding her breath

Time is passing. Each day that goes by brings them all one step closer to something. In a sense, it should be comforting to Dorcas, knowing that.

It isn’t, though. It’s terrifying. Her mind races, thinking of everything that’s already happened and all that’s been lost because of it. And she knows, she’s so painstakingly aware, that each time she feels like something is just the beginning, that it marks the end of something as well. It’s how it works. It’s how it’s always been, as long as anyone or anything has existed.

She just wishes she could go back to the start, long before there was ever an end for her to anticipate. Or grieve.

— 

James sits at the Gryffindor table, waiting for Dumbledore to address the school. Percy Parkinson’s death was announced in the Prophet this morning and the change in attitude amongst everyone is palpable. One of their own, a friend to some, a classmate to others, is dead. Gone, just like that. The obituary didn’t specify the nature of his death, but they all know. It was too close to the attack on Easter to not be connected. James’ dad was at that luncheon. He’s fine, thank Merlin, but if Percy died, James can’t help but wonder how close his dad came to it himself. 

James didn’t know Percy other than their interactions on the Quidditch pitch. He was a fair player, for the most part. That’s all James really knows about him, aside from the fact that he cursed Sirius weeks ago when he tried to speak to Regulus.

Either way, his death is unsettling to James. It makes him feel sick to his stomach. He knew Parkinson, saw him in the halls, laughing with his friends. He shook his hand after matches. He was only a year older than James. The wrongness of it all is loaded, and it sits on the shoulders of every student in the Great Hall.

Dumbledore stands at the head of the hall, his eyes sweeping across the students. His blue eyes are tired and strained. “Before we begin our feast,” he begins, his voice heavy, “I must share with you the tragic news that a Hogwarts student has passed away. Percy Parkinson, a seventh-year student in Slytherin House, is no longer with us.”

The room is silent, aside from some quiet crying somewhere. Before he can stop himself, James’ eyes dart to the Slytherin table. He finds Regulus quickly.

James doesn’t know if Regulus and Percy were friends. He doesn’t think they were, but as far as he’s aware, Parkinson wasn’t as insufferable as the others in Regulus’ house. He wonders if he’s struggling with the news of Percy’s death.

Dumbledore continues, “Percy was an important member of this community. A talented Quidditch player and captain, a beloved friend, and a highly skilled young wizard. His loss is deeply felt and mourned. Let this remind us of the importance of compassion and support for one another, even in times of division.”

Regulus’s face is a carefully maintained mask, but James can see the flicker of something in his eyes. It’s a look James recognizes all too well, a blend of sadness and something else. Something James has only seen in Regulus during their last conversation, when they discussed the last raid. At the realisation, James’ heart stutters.

Dumbledore keeps talking, but James’s heartbeat is pounding in his ears. Regulus is still looking forward, but his posture is stiff and his jaw is clenched. Anyone else might think it was grief, but James knows better. It’s guilt. 

As if he can feel James looking at him, Regulus turns his head and the two of them make eye contact for the first time in months. Regulus’ brow furrows, ever so slightly, but he doesn’t react in any other way. His eyes look blank now, but James knows he didn’t imagine what he saw.

Regulus continues to stare at him until Pandora taps his shoulder and he turns to her, leaning down so she can whisper something in his ear.

James’ stomach turns, and he rips his gaze away from Regulus and down to his plate. The feast begins, but he can’t bring himself to eat. He pushes food around his plate, offers quiet words in conversation with his friends, and listens as people theorize about Percy’s death. He goes through the motions, as he has many times before.

Regulus doesn’t look at him again, no matter how many times James checks throughout dinner. He doesn’t seem to falter in his expressions either.

It’s strange, James thinks as he’s walking to prefect rounds afterward, to know someone so intimately that he can recognize their emotions from a glance, but not speak to them about it. It gives him a strange feeling of homesickness, strong enough to be nauseating.

—

“Was Regulus friends with Percy?”

Sirius stills at the mention of his brother, and out of the corner of his eye, so does James. Quickly, Sirius keeps moving, pulling off his uniform shirt to pull on an old t-shirt to sleep in. No one speaks, so he turns to look at Peter, who just asked the question.

“Regulus and Percy?” Sirius asks, frowning. He tries to think about it a bit. Regulus doesn’t exactly have friends outside of Crouch and Rosier it seems like. Dorcas and Pandora too, but Sirius isn’t quite as sure of those two. “I don’t think so. Why?”

Peter shrugs, sitting on the edge of his bed. He looks a little gloomy. 

“I dunno. It’s just…it’s sad isn’t it? That Percy died?” Peter says, slowly. “They didn’t say how, but…”

“Of course it’s sad, Wormy,” Remus agrees, softly.

“He was at the Easter attack,” James murmurs. 

All three of the other boys turn to look at him. Sirius’ chest tightens and he wonders if maybe, somewhere in between the feast, his prefect rounds, and coming back to the dorm, that James spoke to Regulus.

“How do you know that?” Sirius questions. 

“I don’t,” James says, sheepishly. He looks at Sirius and shrugs. There’s no sign of a secret message in his eyes. “I just have a feeling he was there.”

“Was he…” Remus trails off, leaving the others to fill in the blanks.

“A Death Eater?” Sirius finishes. “I don’t think so. Is that a requirement for those things?”

As if he doesn’t know the answer to that. As if three out of the four of them in the room don’t know the answer to that.

“I don’t think so,” Peter shakes his head, his face screwed up in thought. “I think they bring recruits on those kinds of things to see what they’re willing to do.”

Then, it’s Sirius, James, and Remus’ turn to swivel their heads to look at Peter. Sirius meets Remus’ eyes, exchanging a look. 

“Where’d you hear that, Wormtail?” James asks.

Peter shrugs again. “No one in particular. It’s just a guess, really, but it wouldn’t make much sense if they didn’t. I mean, you guys remember what happened at Slughorn’s party—what they said about Regulus. It’s not as if he’s a Death Eater.” Peter pauses, his eyebrows crinkling. “He isn’t is he?”

“No,” Sirius and James say in unison, a little too forcefully. Peter raises his eyebrows.

“Okay…”

“How do you think it happened?” Remus asks, quietly. “Even if he was at the raid, that doesn’t explain what happened to him.”

“Probably an Auror or some kind of cross-fire,” Sirius supplies. “His parents have more than enough money to keep that kind of thing hush-hush. I would know. They’re colleagues of my parents.”

“He was young,” Remus replies. 

“Yeah,” Peter nods. “I can’t imagine it. That’s why I asked if he and Regulus were friends. It can’t be easy, losing a friend like that. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to any of you.”

“We’ll be okay, Wormy,” Sirius says. Remus nods beside him, and Sirius expects James to as well, but he doesn’t.

“Yeah,” Peter sighs. He gets under the covers. “I hope so.”

Sirius watches Peter turn his light off and draw his curtains. He glances back at James.

His best friend is sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall, lost in thought. His hair is wet from a shower and he’s shirtless, only wearing his snitch-print pyjama bottoms. The same ones he’s been wearing since their first year that Sirius is convinced are charmed to grow with him but has never cared enough to ask about.

Sirius recognizes the look on his face. That far-away one that only comes from betrayal and heartbreak. He wore it, his second year, when Regulus got placed in Slytherin and started being cold to him. Remus wore it during their fifth year after the prank.

He’s never seen anything like that on James’ face. Not until Regulus came around.

Sirius has been angry with Regulus many times before. It’s nothing new. Second nature, even. This though? This makes him furious.

The thing is, as much as Sirius worries about his little brother and as estranged as they might be at any given time, he’s always going to be open to doing what they do best. Argue. A standard lecture from him about James probably won’t sway Regulus, but at least it’ll make Sirius feel better. Maybe.

At least it’ll bring back some semblance of normality to the two of them. 

—

Dorcas purses her lips as she listens to the boys talk. They’re all in the common room, voices low, as they discuss Percy’s death.

Regulus is silent, his face a blank slate as he stares at the fireplace.

The boys have bothered him already. Mulciber, Nott, and Avery. A few others as well. Regulus dodged their questions, but Dorcas knows that they know anyway. Half of their parents were at the attack and are Death Eaters. They might not be aware of Regulus being responsible for Parkinson, but they know the other bits and pieces of the story.

It makes her stomach turn, watching the boys suck up to Regulus the way that they are because he’s met Voldemort and was at the raid. It’s always bothered her—the way her housemates are about this stuff. Now though, with Marlene fresh in her mind and hope for something different than this, it’s even worse.

Pandora has been glued to Regulus’ side since they got back to the dormitory, but Regulus hardly seems to notice that she’s there. Dorcas is just glad that one of them is focused enough to try to convince the others of their relationship.

Dorcas hasn’t missed the way Snape has kept his eye on them the entire night. He’s being far too watchful and it’s making her nervous. Or suspicious maybe. Worst of all, Regulus doesn’t seem to notice him either. In all his efforts to remain focused, he’s still distracted.

Dorcas frowns, watching him. He’s one of her best friends. She’s always done her best to look out for him and she’s been doing that this year as well. It’s all been very strategic and Dorcas didn’t have much else to lose, aside from him. Now she does and she doesn’t know how to choose.

She thinks about everything Regulus has given up for something that might not work out. He didn’t have to do any of it. He could have kept living with the Potters, dating James, and spending time with Sirius. Enjoyed it while it lasted. All things inevitably come to an end anyway, don’t they? Why not spend the time that’s guaranteed being happy?

Dorcas continues staring, watching as Regulus frowns slightly and pulls on his sleeve cuff absently. She wishes she could just get in his head, even for a minute, to try to make sense of things. She wants to be able to map it all out and be able to track where he’s going, even if she decides not to go with him.

Regulus sighs, wiping a hand over his eyes. He turns, catching her gaze, and frowns deeper. “What?”

“Nothing,” Dorcas says, softly. “Just thinking about how you’re my best friend.”

“Shut up,” Regulus grumbles, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight, Reg.”

He nods and leaves, walking away. Dorcas wonders how many more times she’ll get to watch him do that.

—

James stretches, the early morning sunlight painting the inside of his eyelids an orange glow. Slowly, he opens them.

“Hi,” Regulus murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips. He reaches out, tracing a finger along James’ jaw.

“Reg,” James whispers, awed. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Regulus nods. 

“I’ve missed you,” James tells him, his voice still hushed. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Have you?” Regulus asks. His grey eyes shine with fondness, and it’s enough for James to blush under his gaze.

“Yeah,” James nods. He pushes his luck and pulls Regulus closer to him. He’s warm. So warm. “Always looking for you, love.”

“Well,” Regulus says, a little uppity. He cracks a small grin at James and lowers his voice, like he’s telling a secret. “You’re the only one who’s ever been able to find me.”

“Really?” James breathes. 

“Really,” Regulus nods. His smile fades and James watches as his smile is replaced with a frown and a crinkle forms between his eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re the only who’s ever been able to find me,” Regulus repeats, like that explains it all. “So come and find me.”

“But you’re right here,” James says, confused.

“No,” Regulus shakes his head, smiling sadly. “Not really.”

And then he’s gone. James blinks and Reg is gone, and his only company is the empty side of the bed where he was just lying. 

James wakes up to Remus’ alarm going off and the sound of Sirius groaning.

James wakes up grasping his bedsheets, alone.

—

Sirius isn’t always the most emotionally astute, okay? He misses things sometimes. Blame it on his parents or his upbringing or maybe just his personality, but it’s true. It’s how its always been. He missed out on his own feelings for Remus for years. He missed out on Remus’ feelings for him, the list goes on.

He’s not the most…emotionally aware. He’s got enough sense though, that when something is wrong, like really wrong, he knows immediately. Case in point:

Peter scurries up to them in the common room, his face unusually flushed. James, Remus, and Sirius are gathered around a table piled high with books and parchment, lazily studying and completing the Transfiguration work McGonagall assigned from the first day back in class.

Peter’s voice is almost a whisper, but Sirius catches every word. As soon as he saw Peter approach, looking the way he did, his ears perked up like Padfoot.

“Guys, you won’t believe what I heard at chess club,” Peter says, after casting a silencing spell. His eyes dart around as if expecting someone to overhear. It’s more than enough to get Sirius interested.

“Spit it out, Wormtail,” Sirius leans forward, eyes burning on his friend. James and Remus exchange worried glances.

Peter clears his throat, clearly nervous. “I heard that Regulus was at the Death Eater attack that happened. And… he met You-Know-Who over Easter Break.”

The words hit Sirius like a physical blow. He feels a cold wave of anger and betrayal wash over him, even though he’s told himself to expect this. He knew this was coming, even before Regulus started working with Dumbledore. All roads have led to this. Sirius knows this, okay? But the idea of his baby brother in a room with Voldemort doesn’t get any easier. 

“Regulus?” James asks, his voice low. “Are you sure, Wormtail? That’s—that’s a pretty serious claim.”

Peter nods vigorously, his eyes still glancing around the common room. “Yeah, I’m sure. I overheard a couple of older Slytherins talking about it. They mentioned Regulus meeting with Voldemort and being present during the attack. I thought you all should know.”

Sirius’ mind races. He thinks back to his last encounter with Regulus, a sneering face full of resentment and the taunting that followed. Except, Remus had spoken to him just before winter break and said he was shaken at the mention of Sirius. Affected by him, Remus had said. It’s important to remember that Regulus is spying. Playing a part. Sirius, Remus, and James know this. Peter does not.

Remus, quick on the uptake, speaks up. “If this is true, it means things are worse than we thought. We need to be careful, especially if Regulus is involved like this. It probably means he isn’t the only one at Hogwarts who is.”

“That’s exactly what I thought, Moony. There’s more, there has to be. They’re here, in the school.”

James frowns, his brows knitting together. “Who else do you reckon is a part of all that?”

“Parkinson for one thing,” Sirius says, meeting James' pained eyes. “Guess you were right, Prongs.”

“It’s probably the lot of them,” Remus sighs. He runs a hand through his sandy hair before looking at the three of them again. James nods and looks away. There’s something going on there, Sirius is sure of it. “Mulciber, Nott, Avery. You know the group.”

They all nod, quiet as they take in the information that’s just been revealed to them. Sirius knew already. At least, know that he knows for sure, he thinks he did. He’d had a gnawing feeling in his gut for all of Easter break, the same one he got his first year at Hogwarts when he left Regulus alone in that house.

Regulus is lost to him in a lot of ways, wrapped up in the darkness he attempted to escape. It’s not even what he wants. That’s the worst part and always will be. His little brother has always had a knack for getting caught in between both worlds—starting with Sirius and their parents. It’s a pattern at this point.

“Yeah,” Sirius says, his voice low and controlled. “We should figure out who the others are. Get some intel, y’know?”

“I’ll try to figure it out,” Peters says, quietly. “There’s a lot of talk at the Chess club meetings.”

“Report back, Wormy,” Sirius frowns. 

“I will," Peter nods, "Did anyone ever talk to Lily after what Regulus said at Slughorn’s?” He looks at James. “Prongs?”

“Me?” James asks, surprised. “I mean—we talked about it a little bit, at my birthday party, but it’s not like we really discussed it.”

“I don’t think Prongs is the right person to talk to Lily about the sensitive stuff,” Sirius snorts, happy with the subject change.

“I dunno…” Peter trails off before grinning. “You almost took her back to the dorm on your birthday, James. I figured you two got closer and you were just trying to keep it nonchalant for once.”

“What?” James questions, sharply. He leans in closer to Peter, casting a glance around the common room. “Are people saying that?”

Sirius frowns as he tries to remember what Peter’s talking about and then—Oh, that. James’ birthday was last month and it had honestly faded from Sirius’ recent memory, but he remembers now. The weird conversation that the whole room heard at the party and Lily’s hands on James’ chest. It was weird, but Sirius knew it wasn’t much more than the wrong place, wrong time to be noticed. He didn’t dwell on it. Not with everything going on.

“Wormtail, are people saying that?” James asks again. He sounds—livid. Sirius exchanges a look with Remus who raises his eyebrows and glances at James before returning to his book.

“I mean, not a lot of people,” Peter says. He’s so clearly confused and it’s a rare moment where Sirius actually feels a bit bad about everything they’re keeping from him.

“I heard Marlene talking about it with Mary,” Remus responds. He doesn’t look up from his book. 

“What?” James demands. “What were they saying?”

Remus sighs, placing his bookmark back in his book. He sets it down on the table and gives James a look. “They think Lily’s finally gone soft on you despite her assurances otherwise.”

“I think she has,” Peter grins again. “I mean, it was pretty clear at the party.”

“She hasn’t,” James snaps. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “Er, sorry Wormy. I just—that’s not how it is.”

“Lily has not gone soft on James,” Remus scoffs. “Believe me. They’re friends, yeah, but she doesn’t fancy him.”

James nods and Sirius watches, silent. He didn’t even know Remus knew this was a topic of conversation among people. 

“But,” Remus continues, “it doesn’t mean that other people don’t think that. You know the rumour mill, Prongs. Don’t worry about it.”

“You said it was Marlene?” James questions, frowning. “But then that means Dorcas probably thinks it too.”

“Who cares?” Peter asks, puzzled. 

“ I care,” James sighs. He begins to pack up his stuff. “I’m going to go have a kip. I can’t think right now.”

Peter watches James go, concern outlining his features. He turns back to Remus and Sirius. “What’s his deal?”

Remus shrugs before returning to his book and Sirius just shakes his head. What a loaded question. 

“Prongs has finally fallen victim to the woes of teenage angst and mood swings,” Remus replies after a moment. He glances up from his book and flashes Peter a smile. “He’ll be okay.”

Sirius knows Remus is saying it to throw Wormtail off any kind of trail, but he can’t help but stare at the space where James was just sitting. He doesn’t know if the second part of what Remus said is true. 

—

Sirius sighs, standing in an empty hall in the castle. He can hear the clip of footsteps distantly and he holds his breath, folding the map into the pockets of his robes.

Regulus comes around the corner, frowning down at his feet. Sirius catches him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“Stop,” Sirius whispers. “Don’t try and get away, I just want to talk to you.”

Regulus narrows his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. He doesn’t reach for his wand.

“I know what happened this break,” Sirius continues, quickly, “I know you were at the attack and that you met Voldemort.”

A part of him waits for Regulus to roll his eyes or deny any of it, but he doesn’t. He looks at Sirius, defiant and angry. He just waits, but it the moment doesn' come.

“I—” Sirius stutters. He shakes his head. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

“I haven’t needed your help for a long time,” Regulus replies bitterly. “If that’s all you wanted to say, then it’s best I leave.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Sirius hisses. He tightens his grip on Regulus’ shoulders and jostles him slightly. “If you need help, I’m going to help you. I don’t care if you say you don’t.”

“I don’t need your help, Sirius,” Regulus sneers. “And I don’t want it.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you making this harder than it has to be?” Sirius pleads. He looks at his little brother, begging, praying , that he’ll soften and give in. “If you don’t want to talk to me, fine. I get it, you hate me half the time. But talk to someone. Talk to James, for Merlin’s sake. He’s been losing it ever since you broke up with him—which again, by the way, fuck you for that. Talk to James.”

Regulus’ eyes flash with anger. “Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how many times I have to remind you that I’m not a child anymore. Stay out of it,” Regulus struggles in his grip. “I already told you to stay away from me.”

“You think you’re some kind of hero, doing this on your own?” Sirius questions sharply. He laughs in disbelief. “You are a child, Regulus. So am I. We all are. If I were you, I would need help. So why don’t you just admit it?” 

Regulus, who had honestly been surprisingly pliant, finally seems to burst. “I don’t owe you an explanation! I have enough going on, I’m not here to comfort you or James. I’m doing what I have to do. I shouldn't even be talking to you, but here we are. I’m being foolish and weak and fucking stupid, again, because of you. ”

“Reggie, be quiet or someone is going to catch us,” Sirius hushes. He softens. “You’re not stupid or weak or whatever else it is you’re going to say just because you ask for help or lean on someone.”

Regulus lowers his voice, but the edge to it doesn’t dull any. “You don’t understand anything, Sirius. You think you know what happened this break? I’ll tell you the truth. Voldemort mentioned you and James by name. He threatened both of you because of the time I spent with you this year. Every time I’m in his presence, he’s going to use you two as leverage to break me. So I’m sorry I won’t accept your help. I’m trying to protect you, even if it means pushing you away!”

A cold shock spreads through Sirius and his hands slacken on Regulus. “What? He threatened us? Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Regulus’s face is flushed with rage, but Sirius can see something else too. Desperation flickers in his eyes. “Because I can handle it, Sirius. I can keep you away from this. He’s closing in, and as good as I’ve gotten at hiding things, I’m not perfect. If I don’t push you away, he’ll know and you’ll both be dead and all of this will have been for nothing.” Regulus takes a shaky breath. “I can’t let this all be for nothing.”

“Regulus,” Sirius murmurs, hollowly. He glances down at his little brother’s forearm, covered by his robes. “Did you get marked?”

Regulus glances down too and shakes his head. “No, but I will soon enough. You don’t need to be around for that.”

Distantly, a meow rings through the empty hallway. Regulus’ head follows the noise before turning back to Sirius with a raised eyebrow.

“Wait, Regulus, I have the cloak, we can go somewhere, keep talking—”

“Don’t bother,” Regulus sighs, frowning. “I shouldn’t be out this late anyway. Don’t try and find me again, Sirius.”

“Regulus—”

The meow gets louder and Regulus looks at Sirius one last time before shaking his head. He turns, and Sirius watches as he changes into his animagus form, running away. His black ears, folded back.

Sirius watches his brother go, his paws padding along the cold stone floors of the castle. Mrs. Norris meows, yet again. 

“Oh, bugger off, you old bat,” Sirius grumbles. He changes into Padfoot just to bark at the old cat before changing back again and throwing the invisibility cloak over his head.

He walks back to Gryffindor Tower, slowly. A distant memory plays in his head, making his guilt sit heavy in his gut.

“But you’re my best friend.”

“I'm your brother, it’s not the same.”

— 

Sirius closes the door to the dormitory quietly behind him. Undressing down to his pants quickly, he tiptoes over to Remus’ bed and slides in beside him.

“Hi, Pads,” Remus yawns. “Did you do what needed to?”

Sirius wraps his arms around Remus and burrows his face into his warm neck. He shrugs.

Remus hums questioningly, turning to face Sirius.

“I think I’m a bad brother,” Sirius whispers.

“You’re not,” Remus replies, easily.

“But what if I am?” Sirius asks, and he’s scared. He’s so scared that he’s a bad brother because that will mean that one of the things that means the most to him has never been what he thought it was.

“You’re not a bad brother, Sirius,” Remus murmurs. He smiles sadly and tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “You’re a good brother who’s in a bad situation. There’s a difference.”

“Do you think Regulus thinks I am?”

“It’s hard to ever guess what Regulus is thinking, but no I don’t think so,” Remus tells him. “I think Regulus thinks the world of you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“I don’t think that’s because of you.” Sirius sighs and Remus pulls him closer, rubbing circles on his back. He continues talking, his voice low in Sirius’ ear, “I think one day, all of this is going to be over and it’ll all be a lot easier to understand. When that happens, you and Regulus won’t spend your time fighting and things will just be how they are—how they’re supposed to be—no miscommunication or grudges.”

Sirius makes a muffled noise into Remus’ shoulder. “Thanks, Moony.”

Remus just kisses the top of his head.