Chapter 28
King’s Cross was a lot less busy than it was in September and June, though it was still bustling with all the students who chose to go home for the holiday. Peter crossed his arms as he waited for his mum to finish talking to Mrs. Yaxley. She was taking forever. His mum always took forever when she ran into one of her friends. He didn’t mind so much when James was still there, but Effie had already popped in and apparated him home a few minutes before. Sirius had left almost as soon as the train stopped with the Black family house elf, and Remus had left shortly after since his mum usually waited for him in the car park.
Conrad Yaxley mirrored his expression, looking just as bored as Peter did, but Peter refused to talk to the Slytherin. So, they just stood there quietly as their mums caught up and gossiped like batty old broads. The time was creeping past noon, and Peter felt his stomach growl.
He had decided to skip breakfast that morning in favor of sleeping in for a few extra minutes. The night before had quickly gone from sitting around the fire to drinking around the fire as they lamented about not getting an invitation to the Slug Club Christmas bash, though it seemed like Mary was the only one who actually wanted to go. “I have the perfect dress and everything,” she had whined.
It had made Marlene scoff. “Pfft, why would you want to hang out with a bunch of stuck-up dweebs anyway?”
“Careful, McKinnon,” Mary teased. “You know what Lils will do if she hears you talking about her like that.”
“Lily’s different, of course, I mean all the rest of them.”
“Hey, Moony’s there, too!” James cried. He sat beside Peter on the sofa closest to the fireplace. He looked devastatingly casual with his feet kicked up onto the coffee table and a lazy smile on his face. It was a peaceful scene, and Peter realized it probably had something to do with Sirius being noticeably absent. He had been packing his trunk the last time Peter had seen him, but that was a while ago, and he was bound to come downstairs soon enough. Peter tried to enjoy what he assumed were the last few moments before Sirius showed up and demanded everyone’s attention in some way or another.
“And I’m still pissed you guys didn’t get a picture of him in those dress robes.”
The night went on, and Sirius never showed up in the common room. That was weird, Peter thought. Sirius never missed a party, no matter how small it was. Lily joined them close to midnight, still wearing her dress from the Christmas party, but still no Sirius.
And no Remus either. He had brushed past them and gone straight up to the dorm, though that was more typical for the quiet boy. The girls went to bed eventually, but he and James stayed in the common room until dawn, just talking and joking around. It felt just like old times.
Finally, Mrs. Yaxley glanced at her watch. “Oh, look at the time. I really need to get back to make sure Poggy has lunch ready in time.”
When the Yaxleys were gone, Mrs. Pettigrew reached for her son’s hand, ready to apparate them home, when she paused. Something had caught her eye, and she flipped her son’s hand over to get a better look at it. She peered at it, at the soul mark that wrapped around his pinky finger, then turned up her nose with a harrumph and gripped him further up on his wrist.
He knew he should have borrowed James’ quidditch gloves. He had meant to, but he had forgotten all about them in the fog of the early morning. He was used to his school robes covering his hands enough that no one really noticed, but outside of his uniform, the mark had been on full display.
She didn’t mention it or look at him for the rest of the day or the next day, but the day after that, she knocked on his bedroom door while he was leafing through one of his old comics. “Peter?” She called through the door.
Peter quickly stashed the comic under his pillow and opened up his Charms textbook instead, hoping it wasn’t upside down. “Come in,” he called back. The door was locked, but his mum used her wand to unlock it with a quiet alohomora.
Peter sat up as his mum entered. She wore a set of cornflower blue robes, and her shoulder-length blonde hair was tucked behind one ear. She had a wrapped parcel in her hands, small and square. She sat down on the edge of his bed, and Peter was glad their house elf, Fizzy, had already come in to make the bed and pick up his dirty laundry that had littered the floor.
“’Morning, mum,” Peter chirped. She had an extra heating charm around her, and Peter felt the edges of it warm his cheeks. “What’s going on?”
“I have something for you,” she placed the parcel in his hands. “An early Christmas gift. Open it.”
“But it’s not Christmas yet.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “Open it.”
Peter did as he was told, opening the lid and pushing the tissue paper to the side. In the middle of the box lay a pair of brown dragonhide gloves, open in the palm, thumb, and pointer finger. They would cover his other three fingers, though, including his marked pinky finger.
“Nana will be here tomorrow,” his mum informed him. “Now I want you to wear those at all times while she is here, okay?”
Peter turned the gloves over in his hands, feeling the roughness of them. “Okay, mum. I’ll wear them.”
…
Mary gave Billy one last kiss on the center of his lips and stepped out of the car. He had gotten his driver’s license while Mary was away at school and had borrowed his dad’s car to take her to the drive-in movie theater. It was late. She was late. The curfew that her parents had given her had passed them by as they sat in the car, kissing and making naïve promises to each other.
“Mare, is that you?” She heard her mother’s voice from down the hallway as she let herself in. Mary sighed; she was hoping no one would notice her coming in, but she supposed they had been waiting up for her.
“Yes, it’s just me,” she called back.
“You’re late,” came her father’s voice from the same direction.
“Only by a few minutes,” she countered. She unwrapped her scarf and hung it on the hook by the door next to her sisters’ scarves and hats.
Her dad grumbled. “Well, head to bed soon. We have an early morning tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, Dad.” She hung up her coat in the hall closet and rubbed her hands together against the cold. She went to her room and waited until she was sure her parents and sisters were fast asleep. Then she went to the phone and dialed a familiar number.
“Who is calling at this hour?” a shrill, bitter voice came down the line.
“Hello, Petunia.” Mary rolled her eyes and hoped the older girl wouldn’t be able to hear the disdain in her voice. Lily had told her all about Petunia. She had never met Lily’s older sister, it was usually just Mrs. Evans who dropped Lily off at the train station, but she was always the one who answered the phone when Mary called. “May I talk to Lily? It’s Mary.”
She heard Petunia huff, then the sound of the phone being set down. A moment later, Lily’s sleepy voice was greeting her. “What are you doing up so late, Mare?”
“It happened,” was all she said. She had to whisper in the quiet of the house, but she really felt like screaming.
Lily yawned. “What happened?”
“Billy and I—” She didn’t finish but let out an excited squeal instead, forgetting that the rest of her family was sleeping nearby.
It took Lily a few seconds to get it; the line was quiet, but then she let out a surprised breath. “Oh! You guys did it?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. It still seemed unreal to her.
“What? Tell me everything! How? What? Where? When?”
Mary chuckled. “It just happened. We were watching a movie at the drive-in, and it just kind of happened.”
“Oh my, Mary! In the car? Did you bleed? I’ve heard some girls bleed when it happens.”
“No, at least I don’t think I did.”
“Did it hurt?”
“At first, yeah,” Mary admitted, “but then it felt good.”
Lily squeaked. “Oh my!” Lily said again. “So, you’re in love with him? Like actually in love with him.”
“I am,” Mary sighed contentedly. “I told you I was, remember?”
“Yes, but this is different.”
“Very. I think he’s the one, Lils.”
“Aww, Mary,” Lily gushed. Then, “Wait, did you use protection?”
“Of course! We’re not daft, though it would be cute to have some little Billys running around.”
“At least wait until after school.”
They laughed, and then Mary sighed. She felt like she was finally coming back down to Earth after the night she had had. “So, how’s everything over there? Is Petunia still a major b-word?”
“Fine,” she groaned. “And yes! Her and Vernon are both staying at the house until they can move into their new flat,” she complained in a much quieter voice than before. “And-” she started but seemed to change her mind.
“And what, Lils?”
“Sev has come to my house every day since we’ve been back.”
“Lily—”
“I haven’t let him in. I told him to get lost through the door, but he keeps coming back. Mum says I should be nice to him because—”
“No, Lily,” Mary interrupted. “You’ve been nice to him, and he always treats you like shite.”
“I know,” Lily sighed. “Besides, I’ve already decided—”
Mary had already heard it all before, Lily’s decision to never be friends with him again, but she knew the other girl was weak when it came to the creepy Slytherin. She had heard the same exact thing back in 2nd year when the jerk called her a know-it-all in Slughorn’s class and again in 3rd year when one of the two dumbbells that always seemed to follow him around called her pudgy in the Great Hall, and he did nothing to defend her. “Lily, promise me you won’t forgive him just because you feel sorry for the jerk.”
“I promise.” Mary tried to believe her, but her voice was hardly convincing.
“Lily,” she said sternly.
“I know!” She yelled. There was a clatter on the other side of the line, and then Lily cursed. “I have to go, Mare. I think mum’s awake.”
“Alright, call me tomorrow?”
“It is tomorrow.”
“Then later. I miss you, Evans.”
“School’s only been out for a few days.”
“So?”
“Miss you, too, MacDonald.” Mary could hear the smile in her voice, then the sound of someone yelling far off, as if they were yelling from another room. “Oh, sorry, Mare. I really have to go now,” she said, then there was a click as she hung up the receiver without a goodbye. Mary did the same, then stalked off to bed even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to get any sleep.
…
Remus gazed at himself in the mirror.
He started, “Sirius, will you—” he stopped and shook his head. “Sirius, would you like to—” he stopped again and smacked his forehead with an open palm. Nothing sounded right.
There were no words for all the things he wanted to tell Sirius.
Remus had decided, as they woke up tangled in his bedsheets on the morning that they were to leave for the train station, that he was going to ask Sirius to be his boyfriend when they got back to school. Boyfriend didn’t seem like the right word; it didn’t seem like enough for what they were to each other, but he didn’t know how else to put it.
If Remus concentrated, he could still feel Sirius’ lips on his, soft and plush against his own chapped lips. Making out in the stairwell had felt magical and too much at the same time, despite the circumstances. He couldn’t help but drag Sirius to his bed, where they made out some more until that wasn’t enough.
Remus’ borrowed dress robes were discarded on the floor, and Sirius’ jeans and shirt had been thrown somewhere across the room, landing somewhere near his own bed, until both of them wore nothing but their underwear. He rubbed his hands down Sirius’ arms to get rid of the goosebumps that had broken out over his entire body. He wanted to cast a heating charm for him, even if it made him overheat, but his wand was still in the pocket of James’ dress robes, and Sirius seemed to have other things on his mind as he slotted himself between Remus’ legs.
Remus had felt an inkling of self-doubt. It was dark within the confines of his bedcurtains, but Sirius’ hands had already started to wander, and he knew the other boy would be able to feel some of his raised scars. He knew Sirius had seen him naked plenty of times after the moon, but Remus was always mostly unconscious as he returned to his human body.
He felt self-conscious, that is, until Sirius started kissing down his neck and onto his collar bone and chest, and every thought in his head disappeared and was replaced with a mantra of more, more, more. They had rutted against each other until they both finished in their underpants. It was sloppy, and they should have been embarrassed by how quick it all happened, but Remus just felt a blissful sleepiness pulling him towards the edges of sleep. Sirius vanished the mess and kissed him slowly until he fell asleep with his head on Remus’ chest.
James had been true to his word and kept Peter out of the dorm until it was nearly time for them to get up. Remus woke up for a second as the door opened, made sure his curtains were secure, then promptly fell back asleep until his alarm went off an hour later. It had been tricky getting up in the morning, but they managed to sneak out of bed while Peter was in the bathroom. Soon, they wouldn’t have to hide anymore, but Remus would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous to come out to Peter. It was hard to predict how he would react to them being soul mates.
He jumped when his mum pounded her fist on the bathroom door. “Remus, are you almost ready? We have to leave.”
“Shite,” he muttered and turned on the tap to cool down his red cheeks.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” he snapped. He was half-dressed already; he just needed to fix his tie and tuck in his shirt, but he was still pissed that his mum was making him go to midnight mass. He had tried to get out of it by saying he had a headache, but that excuse didn’t work so well when the full moon was over a week ago.
He was usually able to get out of church in the summer as long as he went once or twice, but when it came to Christmas, his mum liked to pretend she was a good Catholic. The only year he was allowed to skip Christmas mass was the year the full moon landed on the night before, and he was too bloody and bruised to make an appearance. So, here he was, dressed in a shirt and tie in the middle of the night when all he wanted to do was think dirty thoughts about his soul mate who was several hundred miles away.
He heard his mum sigh in the hall, and he opened the door just as she was about to knock again. “Remus,” she chastised, but he stalked past her and into his room.
There was just one last thing he wanted to grab before they left for the church house. He pretended that he was looking for his coat, but really he just wanted to retrieve the worn photograph that he had hidden deep in his trunk after that day Sirius had found it in his stash box. It had brought him so much comfort over the summer, the few times his mum had managed to guilt him into going to church with her. Besides, he would need it tonight. Even if he didn’t believe, there was something he needed to try.
The drive to the church house was quiet. Hope had flicked off the radio just as soon as Remus had turned it on. “I just want some peace and quiet, Remus, please.” He didn’t protest even though he really wanted to. Things had been strained between them since summer when he had lost his job. He hadn’t written to her once during term. He had been able to push all thoughts of home out of his mind for the last few months, and he almost felt remorseful until he remembered she hadn’t written to him either.
Remus crossed his arms and stared out the window. Except for the occasional wreath or string of colorful lights or the snow on the ground, there was nothing on the commute that indicated that it was Christmas Eve. It wasn’t until they pulled into the church parking lot and Remus saw all of the families adorned in matching red and green that it dawned on him that Christmas was only hours away. Not that it mattered. Knowing that Sirius was trapped at Grimmauld Place killed his holiday spirit.
His mum’s sour expression morphed into something more akin to a smile when they pulled into a parking spot. Remus wasn’t sure if she was genuinely happy to attend mass or if she was more afraid of someone seeing her looking unhappy. He assumed it was the latter, and it made Remus sad. It made him want to try harder to be the son she wanted him to be.
He took a deep breath, his hand on the door handle, and turned to his mum. “Ready?” he asked her.
“One minute.” She checked her lipstick in the fold-down mirror, then smiled. “Let’s go,” she said.
The church was crowded with the type of people who only attended once a year, so they had to sit in one of the last rows of pews. His mum waved to her friends as they came in and turned in her seat to talk to an older woman and her husband, who sat in the pew next to them, until the service started.
“Is this ‘ur boy?” The lady had asked. Remus had never seen her before, but his mum seemed to be familiar with her. “My, isn’t he tall.”
“How tall are you, son?” her husband cut in.
“Huh? Oh.” Remus hadn’t expected them to talk to him. His mind had wandered back to the last day of school, and his cheeks flamed as he was brought back to the present. His mum smiled at the couple awkwardly, embarrassed by his lackluster social skills. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m not sure,” he said.
“I bet you have lots of girlfriends at that fancy school of yours,” the lady said. “Hope’s told us all about it.”
“No,” Remus tried to answer as politely as he could. “No girlfriends.”
“Not yet. Just you wait, deer. I bet they’ll all be throwing themselves at you in no time.”
Remus let out an uncomfortable chuckle, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, he was saved as the father came out and faced the nave.
The smell from the thuribles and censers pricked his nostrils, and he squirmed in his seat until his mum knocked her shoulder into his. He sat still after that, resisting the urge to bounce his leg through the reading of the scripture. He even hummed along as the congregation began to sing to appease her.
When it was time to pray, Remus ducked his head and did what he hadn’t done in years. He thumbed at the photograph in his coat pocket and prayed. Please keep him safe. Let him come back to me, please God; he makes me so happy. Please.
…
Regulus was alone in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place when the clock struck midnight. He held his breath as a strange feeling swept up the length of his forearm, almost to the crook of his elbow. It was like hundreds of needles piercing the skin, but it didn’t hurt.
Regulus didn’t have a chance to roll up his sleeve to look before Kreature apparated into his room. His face was mostly stoic, though Regulus could tell he was happy by the way he held his shoulders. He had a small tea plate with a single slice of cake.
Regulus couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight until a wave of concern for the old house elf hit him. “Kreature, you shouldn’t be here. You know Mother doesn’t like us to celebrate birthdays.”
“Master and Mistress Black are not here,” Kreature informed him with a subtle glint of mischief in his wide eyes.
“How?” Regulus meant to say, how are you able to disobey them?
“Mistress Black has never specifically ordered Kreature not to give Master Regulus cake.”
“Oh.” Regulus stooped low and wrapped his arms around the elf. He felt small hands pat him on the back before he pulled away. “Thank you, Kreature.” Then he thought about what the house elf had just said. “What do you mean mother and father are not here?”
“Mistress Black is preparing for the wedding with Mistress Druella, and Master Black is away on business.”
“Business? This close to the wedding?” Regulus asked himself. “Are you sure?” Kreature nodded. “Are they expected back tonight?”
“No, Master Regulus.”
“Come get me if they return,” he said and pushed past the elf. “I’ll be in Sirius’ room.”
“Of course, Master Regulus.” Kreature bowed. “Wait, Master Regulus, your cake.”
Regulus knocked on his brother’s door and poked his head in when he heard him grunt on the other side. Sirius was lying in bed but not sleeping. Regulus opened his mouth to ask if he could join him, but nothing came out. It was that all too familiar block, something in his head that left him unable to speak.
Sirius seemed to catch on to his dilemma and waved his brother inside. He scooted over to one side of the bed, and Regulus slipped in next to him. “Can’t talk?”
Regulus shook his head.
“That’s okay. I have something that might help.” He rummaged under his pillow and pulled out a long-feathered quill. “Happy birthday, Reggie. I managed to hide this from Mother.”
Regulus opened his mouth, but Sirius stopped him. We agreed on no Christmas gifts this year, Regulus thought.
Sirius seemed to read his mind. “We agreed on no Christmas gifts. We never said anything about birthday gifts. Now, try it out.”
Regulus looked around but didn’t see any parchment. He threw up his hands in defeat.
“It’s charmed,” Sirius said. “Here, see?” He took the quill and waved it through the air. The words Happy Birthday appeared in the air until Sirius waved them away with his hand. “Now you don’t need to carry your journal around everywhere.”
Thank you, Regulus wrote in the air.
Sirius hummed and was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. Then, “Am I allowed to ask?”
You can ask.
“Did you—” Sirius frowned. “Get one?”
Regulus nodded.
“That’s great, Reg. I knew you would. Can I see it?”
Regulus shook his head. He looked away from Sirius as he wrote, unable to meet his eyes— afraid that he would be angry with him. I want to keep it to myself for a while.
Sirius huffed. “Can’t even show your own brother?” he teased. “I guess I’ll live.”
I’ll show you sometime. It’s just so
The words disappeared before he finished.
“New?”
Regulus nodded. A silent yawn slipped past his lips. It was cold in Sirius’ room but warm under the covers, so he pulled them up higher to rest just below his chin.
“That’s alright. I’m happy for you anyway.”
Thanks, he wrote, the quill poking out from under the duvet. Then: Can I sleep in here tonight?
“Of course. Good night, Reg.”
Kreature woke them up bright and early the next morning. He already had their dress robes and a tray with tea laid out at the foot of the bed. Regulus took a sip from his cup and nodded a thanks to the elf.
“Happy birthday, Reg,” Sirius said again when Kreature had left them to change. He sat near his brother on the edge of the bed and took a long drink from his own cup. He winced. “Ugh, Kreature can’t make a decent cup of tea for the life of him.”
Regulus grabbed the quill he had stored on the nightstand. Merry Christmas, Siri.
Sirius smiled, but it looked more sad than anything. “Still can’t talk?”
Regulus shrugged.
“Look, I’ll try to cover for you as much as I can, but you know how mother is.”
I know. I’ll try.
“We better start getting ready,” Sirius said, discarding his still full teacup on the tray. Regulus nodded and took his own robes back to his room while Sirius started to undress.
Once he was alone, he peeled off his pajama shirt slowly, not sure if he was ready to see the mark that would be there. He couldn’t put it off any longer, though. They were due at Uncle Cygnus’ manor for the wedding festivities soon, and he couldn’t wear his pajamas under his dress robes. He needed to stop being a coward.
It was bigger than he expected, extending from his wrist to his elbow. It would be hard to hide, but it was doable; he just wouldn’t be able to roll his sleeves up anymore. Good thing he ran cold.
He dressed quickly, brushed his hair flat against his head, and met Sirius in the parlor by the fireplace. “There hasn’t been any yelling this morning, so I’m guessing Mother and Father are already there,” Sirius said in way of a greeting.
Regulus nodded.
They took the flue together and were met by Krampy, who took Regulus’ cloak and led them into the library. The wedding was set to be held in the ballroom, but the families of the bride and groom were scheduled for tea beforehand.
Their mother and Aunt Druella were already sitting with Lucinda Malfoy when Krampy ushered them in. Regulus made a show of kissing the back of the women’s hands, the way he was taught, and sat quietly next to Sirius, who had skipped the whole charade. Regulus elbowed his brother. Please behave, he wanted to say.
The men— their father, Uncle Cygnus, and Abraxius Malfoy- came in shortly after them. They had a clipped air about them as if they had just been discussing something that was unfit for anyone else’s ears.
Abraxius was the first of them to speak. He was a tall, white-haired man, just like his son. “I do apologize for our late arrival. It seems I kept these two for a bit longer than intended,” he motioned towards their father and Uncle, who sat in their tall-backed chairs with twin expressionless faces. “How are we doing on time?”
“All according to schedule,” Aunt Druella trilled. “Guests are set to start arriving in a quarter hour. My darling Bella is helping Cissy into her gown as we speak.”
“Very good,” Malfoy hummed. “We really are happy about this arrangement, Cygnus.”
Their uncle agreed with a stiff nod. “As are we.”
Malfoy turned to their father. “And I suppose you’ll be dealing with this all soon enough. Tell me, any thoughts on who you will marry the boy off to? A Greengrass, perhaps? They do have such exquisite breeding.”
“We’ve had a few offers,” their mother answered for their father. “Of course, it all depends on the size of the dowry.” Abraxius hummed. Narcissa’s dowry had been hard to refuse— a small fortune and an array of ancient Black family heirlooms. Not to mention the reputation of the Black name and the invaluable connections that came with it.
Regulus watched Sirius clench his jaw as he realized they were talking about him. “No,” he gritted out, and Regulus wanted to sink into his seat and disappear.
Abraxius looked surprised. “What do you mean, boy?”
“There will be no marriage arrangements made on my behalf,” he said with a lot more conviction. Their parents looked murderous. Abraxius looked between the adults, at a loss for words as Sirius spoke out of turn.
Aunt Druella stood abruptly, almost toppling her chair in the process. “Oh, look at the time,” she muttered. “We must go receive our guests. Come, come,” she said.
Regulus was pushed out of the library and was almost at the entrance of the ballroom when he noticed their mother and Sirius had disappeared. “Aunt Druella,” Regulus said. He was surprised he could find the words. They tasted like chalk on his tongue.
“Yes, boy?”
“I need to use the facilities. I’ll make sure to return before the first guests arrive.”
His aunt huffed. “Alright, as long as you do not dawdle. We are on a strict schedule.”
It wasn’t hard to find Sirius and their mother. They were back in the library; his mother must have held him behind while Druella pulled Regulus down the hall.
Their voices were hushed, but heated, and Regulus wanted to go in there and beg Sirius to just keep his mouth shut even if it made his mother turn on him instead. He was paralyzed in fear, though, feet bolted to the ground just outside of the library, out of sight behind the wall, as he listened in on their argument. You’re being a coward again, he thought to himself.
“I have a soul mate, mother,” Sirius hissed. Regulus could feel his magic pulsing off of him in waves all the way from where he hid. “I won’t be marrying any pureblood bitch that you pick out for me.”
His mother’s response was too quiet for him to hear, but that was probably even worse than if she had yelled back at him.
“I don’t care about the Black name or you’re filthy money. You can keep it,” Sirius seethed. “You won’t hear from me after I finish school, I promise you that.”
Their mother laughed, short and hollow, and it made the hair on the back of Regulus’ neck stand straight up. “You stupid, stupid boy,” she sang.
Regulus mustered the courage to peek out from behind the door, but what he saw made him wish he hadn’t. His mother stood tall, her twisted wand pointed straight at Sirius’ chest. Sirius didn’t stand down. His fists were clenched at his side, but his head was held high in the air.
“Imperio!”