Chapter 8
James had no idea what to do.
When he had first left Mcgonagall's classroom, his idea had been to corner Regulus, get him to talk it out, and then what? Hug it out?
First off, he hardly thought he could force Regulus to talk and then they would just hugit out, but secondly, he doubted he could force the boy to talk in the first place, you couldn’t force Regulus to do anything he didn’t want to do without earning a right hex.
So, realizing his plan probably wasn’t as sturdy as he had first assumed, he heads back to the dorms, his hope slowly diminishing.
How could he help Regulus, of everyone? He had been right, when he had gone on that rant yelling at James. He did find people and try to fix them, to help them to make himself feel better.
It had always felt like a piece of him, even if small and hidden, had been missing. He had assumed it was because he was different, unlike other kids around him, missing a soulmark.
And maybe that was true, maybe he was different, because even with a soulmark, it still felt as if a piece of him was missing, incomplete. Or maybe, like, a piece of him didn’t fit correctly at all, and he was built wrong, and no matter how hard he tried to force that piece in, to fit in with everyone else, it didn’t work.
He had always been too loud, too rambunctious, causing the annoyance of everyone around him. He tended to cling onto people, to anyone around him who gave him the time of day. He tried to make himself likable to everyone, because he couldn’t stand to see someone not like him. It hurt, knowing something about him was wrong, that something about him made their noses turn up and their lips curl.
Made them dislike him.
Like Lily.
Like Regulus.
Maybe Regulus was right, maybe he should take the hint, take the hint that no matter how hard he tried he would still be annoying, he would still talk too much and laugh too loudly. He would still twitch and fidget and never be able to sit down, because something was wrong.
Wrong with him.
He groans lightly, rubbing his forehead as he opens the door to his dorm.
“Prongs, mate! Where you been?” Sirius calls from his bed, tossing the quill he had been holding aside. Remus lets out an exaggerated noise as it flops onto the homework he had obviously forced Sirius into doing, shifting it off the parchment to continue writing.
“Just stayed back in Minnie’s classroom for a second. She wanted to speak to me.” He replies nervously, dropping onto his bed. His thoughts were still circling too quickly for him to hardly process, and everything was bothering him, like the feeling of his clothes on his skin, scratchy, irritating.
“Oh? Get into trouble without us Prongs, eh?” He grins, but there's an obvious question in his eyes.
James chews on his lip, rubbing his thumb across his forearm. Should he tell his best friend about his brother? About the obvious trouble he’s in?
Would he even care?
Of course he would care. He worries about Regulus all the time, even though he says he hates him. You can tell by the looks he casts at him, and the way, sometimes, when he’s really drunk, he’ll start talking about Regulus as if they had never separated. As if they still talked everyday, neither of them having a problem in the world.
Of course, he knew Sirius still cared dearly for his brother. And he had a right to know.
“Uhm, actually, pads, it was- was about your brother,” his thumb pauses on his mark as the room seems to still.
“Oh? What about?” It’s obvious he’s trying to be nonchalant, twirling his wand around in his fingers as he lays back once more on his bed. James clears his throat slightly, rubbing his hands on his trousers as he sits up to face his best friend.
“Well, she’s worried about him,” he’s cut off as Sirius interrupts him.
“Why?” He somehow still kept his voice neutral, now spinning the wand the opposite way.
“He’s- He’s failing his classes, again, and to be honest, Pads, I guess I’m kinda worried too. He’s skipping our tutoring sessions and- he seemed… hurt.” The wand spinning stops, and Sirius studies the ceiling for a long moment.
“Maybe he fell off his broom. Mommy would never hurt her precious prince,” He replies finally, and the nonchalant voice is beginning to scrape on James’ nerves.
“I don’t think so, Sirius- I mean, why would he come to school with the injury?”
“You know the little prat, probably had too big of an ego to get someone to help him.”
“But-”
“Not to mention he’s dramatic, I mean come on prongs, neither of you like each other anyways, so are you really surprised he’s skipping the sessions?” He finishes, and for some reason that sends a sharp spike of hurt into James’ gut.
“Sirius,” the tone makes Sirius finally look over at James, who swallows as he gnaws on his cheek, before letting out a small breath. “I think, maybe you should- I dunno, talk to him?”
Sirius stares for a long moment, before letting out a loud laugh. He shakes his head, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye as James stares, confused.
“Merlin, Prongs. I knew you were funny, but damn, that really tickled my funny bone,” the humor was so forced that James was surprised he could manage it, and Remus shifts away from him slightly, looking nervous.
“Sirius-”
“Drop it, James,” he snaps, and James flinches, mouth agape slightly. Remus clears his throat, obviously trying to diffuse the tension, and James bites his lip, looking about ready to cry.
“I’ll go find Pete,” Remus finally says, standing up and closing his transfiguration book.
The room is encased in silence for the rest of the night.
Sirius can’t sleep. He’s restless, mind running constantly. Everytime he closed his eyes, he could hear James, saying that his little brother was hurt.
How? Why? What happened?
No way his parents hurt him, right? He was the perfect child, the perfect everything. Everything they could have hoped for.
Everything Sirius wasn’t.
Even so, the thought that maybe, maybe, they did hurt him, did torture and beat him like they did Sirius wouldn’t leave his head. Wouldn’t stop flashing in his mind. He could still hear himself scream, still felt the pain of crucio and other curses. He still had nightmares of the things that happened in that house.
And because he had left, were they now happening to Reg? To his baby brother?
No, he told himself, Regulus was fine in that house. He was perfectly fine because he was perfect.
He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he’s creeping across the room and quietly pulling open the drawer to James’ dresser. He pulls out the Marauders map, not really knowing what he’s hoping for until he sees his brother's name on the Astronomy tower.
Alone.
Before he can truly think his plan through, he’s grabbing the invisibility cloak and leaving.
By the time he’s made it up there, he’s out of breath, tugging the invisibility cloak off his head as he sucks in a quick breath.
His brother stood there, staring up at the stars. He looked so… sickly. His skin was so pale, it looked like a skeleton’s hand peeking out from under his sleeve, contrasting greatly against the black of his cloak.
When he turns around, meeting his gaze, Sirius can’t help but gasp. He looked dead. Taunt skin, his pale lips puckering. Large purple spots were under his eyes, and his eyes…
There was no light in them. They were just light gray, empty pits.
“Reg- Regulus,” he corrects before Regulus can, and Regulus blinks, rubbing his eyes. He looked confused for a moment, before the expression is gone and he sneers.
“What are you doing up here,” he snaps, and Sirius tilts his head lightly, letting out a small laugh.
“I could ask you the same, Frere,” he replies, light sarcasm coating his voice, but on top of that, more prominent, worry.
Regulus tried to ignore that.
“Are you forgetting? I’m a prefect, maybe I’m on rounds,” he sneers back, turning back to the sky, before standing.
“No, you’re not. I know your rounds, you have them with James,” Regulus almost flinches at his name, which only makes Sirius more confused and concerned. When he turned to face Sirius once more, Sirius had moved closer, reaching out a hand to his brother.
Regulus flinches back once more, before gritting his teeth. Sirius’ hand stays suspended for a moment, before he drops it with a small sigh.
“Reg, what happened?”
“None of your business,” he replies back coldly, glaring, and Sirius can’t help the pang of hurt and anger.
“It is my business! Are they-” he doesn’t finish, but Regulus catches the hint, and he all but bares his teeth at him.
“Please, let me in on how it’s your business again? Because in my eyes, you’re just a disowned blood traitor who I shouldn’t be wasting my breath on right now,” He laughs coldly, and Sirius rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a sarcastic smile.
“You can drop the act, Reg…ulus.”
“What act?” He mocks, pushing Sirius aside as he tries to shove past. Sirius grabs his shoulder, though, pulling him back. Regulus tries to pull away, but Sirius keeps his grip strong, meeting his eyes.
“What’s going on, Regulus?”
“Like I already said, none of your business!”
“Stop being stubborn, damn it, and let me help!”
“I don’t want your help, don’t you get it? I don’t need your help!”
“The fuck you don’t, then why do I have so many people telling me their worried, huh? Why are your grades dropping, why is James, the person you hate who hates you back just as much, saying he’s worried and you were hurt?!” He snaps, and Regulus glares, breathing harshly, before wrenching out of his grip and shaking his head harshly.
“Just fuck off, won’t you?” He hisses back, shoving past him again, but once more, Sirius reaches out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back.
He raises it up, opening his mouth to plead, he was ready to beg, but the flash of ink in the corner of his eye catches his attention. He whips his head to the side, but Regulus had already snapped his arm back, clutching it to his chest.
The ink. The black ink. It had marked his forearm, peeking above his sleeve when it had pulled up.
Sirius couldn’t breath, couldn’t talk. A lump had formed in his throat, in his chest, and a trembling had started in his hands.
“Don’t- don’t tell me, no, no no no no,” Sirius mutters, tugging at his shirt. His pajama shirt- an old shirt from Remus, soft under his fingers.
Regulus gives him a confused look, glancing at his forearm before realization blooms on his face.
“No- you’ve misunderstood-”
“Misunderstood? Fucking misunderstood Regulus? Fuck, fuck, fuck, Merlin I should’ve know, should’ve known you’d do this, take after them. Fuck!” He snaps, bringing a hand up to his hair. Disgust, anger, hatred, all of these emotions clear on his face.
Panic, hurt, Regulus face shifts between the two as Sirius grits his teeth, letting out a low, cruel laugh.
“You understand what this does right? You’re evil Regulus, you can’t do light magic, can’t get a soulmate, can’t do any of these kinds of things. No wonder you can’t cast a fucking patronus after a year.”
“No- Sirius no, you don’t get it, just listen- trust me-”
“Huh? Trust you? Why in Merlin's name should I do that, yeah? Give me one good reason,” he hisses, getting up in Regulus’ face.
Regulus swallows, before replying quietly, “Because we’re brothers.”
“You are not my brother,” his voice is cold, sharp, and it sends a shiver down Regulus’ spine.
“You’re not my brother,” he repeats, and Regulus can’t manage to move as Sirius continues, each word venomous, cruel. “James? He’s my brother. The marauders? They’re my family. But you? You’re just the little kid I left behind, the nuisance who doesn’t know how to make his own fucking descions. We were never friends, never family, never brothers. You’re just a pathetic puppet following in mothers footsteps,” he spits, taking a step forward and jabbing Regulus’ chest.
Regulus is still for another long moment, as if Sirius’ words had frozen him over, and then he blinks, a single tear slipping through his lashes. The weight of Sirius’ word, of what he had said to his brother, hits him, but he can’t seem to open his mouth and apologize, can’t seem to speak around the lump in his throat. They stand still for a painful beat, and then Regulus is turning on his heel, the only sound heard is the soft padding of his shoes as he leaves.
Sirius doesn’t follow. He stays under the stars and sobs.
He wakes up just as the sun is beginning to rise, blinking blurrily against the beaming rays of light. It takes him a panic filled moment to remember where he is; to remember what happened. Remember why exactly he’s under the astronomy tower.
He raises a shaking hand to his eyes, rubbing them as he tries to steady his breath. His nose was stuffed so he had to breathe through his mouth, and his eyes were swollen to the touch. He could feel the stick of dried tears along his cheeks, but he doesn’t bother to wipe them as he stands unsteadily, clasping a hand to the railing.
As he walks back to his dorm, sick to his stomach, he gets multiple looks from the early risers. He doesn’t have the energy to care, though, instead pressing a fist to his mouth as he sniffles. He wipes his nose with his shirt sleeve just as he makes it back to the dorm, letting out a small sigh.
The portrait gapes at the site of him, opening and closing her mouth as she looks him up and down. He doesn’t even get the password out before she swings open, a pitying look in her eyes.
Fortunately for him, none of the Gryffindors are awake yet as he walks up the stairs and into his room, hands still shaking as he turns around to a shocked and slightly frightened James.
“Prongs- what the- are you alright mate? What happened?”
Sirius wipes his nose again as he glares, lip wobbling. “Regulus happened, or- or better yet, you happened, Potter,” he sneers, and James flinches, mouth dropping open as a tired looking Remus sits up.
“W’as goin’ on?” He mutters, just as James stutters out, “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know why I thought listening to you, of all people, would be a good idea, but oh, oh I did! I seeked out Reg, just like you said, and I tried to talk to him, which of fucking course got me know where. I tried to see what was wrong- and guess what? I did see! You wanna know something, James? Wanna know what you were oh so worried about?” He’s breathing heavily as he steps toward him, shoving a finger in his face as he grits his teeth. “A death eater, James! He’s a fucking death eater! He had the dark mark,” his voice edges towards hysterical as James flinches again, before his eyes go wide and he goes pale. Peter is sitting up now as well, and Remus is wide awake.
“Sir-” Remus tries to interrupt, but Sirius shoots him a glare, lip curling.
“No, don’t fucking Sirius me, as if I’m the one doing something wrong! He’s the one who did,” he snaps, jabbing a finger in James’ chest, and Remus looks ready to say something before James cuts them both off.
“Are- I mean, are you sure it was the dark mark?” He whispers, and Sirius seeths, hands curling into fists.
“I saw it, I saw the- the ink, from under his sleeve. Why else would- I mean, I just never thought he would- I thought he knew better,” he tugs at his hair, sucking in a gasping breath as he shakes his head. James shakes his head as well, but for a different reason, denial twisting in his chest.
“And you’re- you’re sure it was a dark mark?” He rasps out, and Sirius raises his head, lips twisting into a tight line.
“What else could it have been, James,” He grinds out, and James shakes his head again.
“I don’t know, but maybe-”
“Oh, here he goes again, with his amazing ideas and insights. Have you ever thought, James, to maybe just mind your own fucking business and stop meddling in things you don’t belong in?”
James flinches, and Peter cringes into his bedsheets, clearing his throat. “Sirius, maybe lay off James for a moment, ay?”
“None of this would have fucking happened, if you had just minded your damn business, huh James?” He shouts, ignoring peter.
“I just wanted to- I didn’t know-”
“Yeah, didn’t fucking know, which is why-”
“Come off it, Sirius, how was he supposed to know what had happened? He just wanted to help,” Remus murmurs, and Sirius whips his head around the room, eyes picking out each individual as his neck turns red.
“Oh yeah, let's all gang up on Sirius, huh?! I’m not the one who caused this!” With that, he turns and stomps out the room, door slamming behind him.
James swallows, rubbing his hands up and down his trousers as he trembles. Peter stands nervously, placing a hand on James’ shoulder, who flinches slightly as he lets out a breath.
“I think he just needs to let off some steam,” he comforts, and James chews on his lip.
“He’s just in a mood, Prongs, it’ll wear off, it always does. Of course this is going to affect him, I mean, his brother got the dark mark, he’s going to act out for a little bit,” Remus adds, rubbing his eyes as he lets out a sigh. He stretches out as he stands, patting a hand along James back as he walks by. “Don’t let it get to you too much, yeah?”
James tries to nod, sitting back onto his bed slowly.
Sirius was pissed at him.
Because he had meddled into their brotherly affairs.
And now his brother had the dark mark.
Regulus had the dark mark.
Reggie had the dark mark. No, he didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe this.
And he was going to settle this. He was going to talk to Regulus himself.