February- 1973
Though Regulus wasn't necessarily friends with the so called "Marauders" anymore, he still had to deal with seeing them every single day. Because of this (and certainly not because he only had one friend and nothing else better to do) he found himself studying the dynamic of their relationship.
They presented themselves as a sort of democracy, however it was obvious that there was still a hierarchy amongst them.
James and Sirius were very clearly the leaders of the group. They were the ones to instigate most conversations, they were both more vocal and physical with each other than anyone else, and they carried a certain charm that allowed them to get away with almost anything. This came in handy when used for various pranks they committed, although at times it made them seem rather egotistical and big headed.
Remus and Peter were far tamer than the other pair but what they lacked in showboating they made up for in subtlety. At first glance, one would think the boys were simply dead weight, tagging along and slowing the group down. But upon further inspection you would find they did much of the heavy lifting themselves.
As a group, they tore through the school and gained a high profile. Every creature residing in the castle, living or dead, knew who the Marauders were.
On their own, they became almost entirely new people.
Regulus had lived with Sirius all his life. He knew everything about his brother: what foods he liked, who his favorite quidditch team was, he even remembered every single expensive artifact Sirius had ever broken and blamed on Kreacher.
He knew Sirius felt a lot of anger that scared him at times. He knew he tried to combat that anger by turning it into spite, fueling himself to go against their parents wishes. But he also knew that Sirius had gotten used to making himself big, and when you pretend to be something for so long it can be hard to go back to reality. The energetic, reckless, carefree attitude he fronted was mostly for show. There were very few people he trusted enough to let himself relax and feel at ease with.
James Potter was like Sirius in the sense that he garnered attention. But where Sirius demanded to be put on a pedestal, James only wanted to be a friend to anyone and everyone.
Regulus found Potter was both simpler and harder to read than his brother. He soon caught on that the boys confidence was exaggerated as well, but that was easy to spot when you knew what to look for. Beyond that, he had a difficult time observing Potter on his own since Sirius was never more than two feet away.
Oh well. There probably wasn't much else to him anyways.
Peter Pettigrew was a curious little creature. He had a soft voice that was filled with wonder, eyes chock full of admiration. He looked at James like he was the only boy in the world.
Regulus thought the others often overlooked Peter, underestimating his skill and dedication. He was absolutely brilliant in both Herbology and History of Magic, though if told to his face he'd grow shy and deny it fervently. He had an important role to play in their pranks as well: not only was he the perfect lookout, he was always quick to cause a distraction and buy the others time, even taking the fall for their antics entirely once or twice.
The most interesting Marauder by far, though, had to be Remus Lupin.
For about two weeks, Lupin had Regulus convinced that he was the only member of the group to possesses an ounce of common sense. In all aspects he appeared to be calm, cool, and collected.
That was until one fateful day in the hall where Remus had been tripped by Peeves the Poltergeist and, in a small fit of rage, had uttered a very quiet, very explicit string of curses.
"Fuck off ya wee cunt. Your mam gets more laughs out of me."
Regulus and Peter had been the only ones close enough to hear and had immediately fell into uncontrollable laughter, earning a concerned look from Barty and a cheeky smirk from Lupin. From that day on, Regulus started paying more and more attention to Remus in hopes of catching another outburst.
What he found instead was much, much more intriguing.
Sometime near the end of September, Remus walked into potions looking rather worse for wear. When Regulus asked if he was alright he had received a half-assed excuse of having some genetic disease that fucked him up bad and unfortunately was untreatable. A month later, sporting the same weakened condition, he had claimed to come down with a stomach bug.
Regulus would've believed him had it not been for the fresh scar he spotted running down the back of his hand.
The next few days were spent in the library. At first he looked through various healers books and herbology texts to try and find something that heals scars, but halfway through his search he realized how useless it was. Lupin was covered in scars— obviously, the type he had couldn't be healed by magic.
Which most likely meant that they had been caused by magic. Dark magic.
He decided to go the optimistic route and doubt the possibility of another student hexing Remus. As far as he could tell, no one would have any reason to. The only remaining option was that he had done it to himself, and that seemed equally unlikely. Remus didn't seem the type to be interested in the Dark Arts, and even if he was, how would a student at Hogwarts ever come into contact with an object or a creature that could potentially—
No.
No, that wasn't possible. Dumbledore was eccentric, but there was no way he would be mad enough to allow—
And yet, Regulus found himself standing in the Defense Against the Dark Arts aisle of the library, frantically pulling out books and scanning the pages. He finds the passage he needs in a third year textbook.
"The werewolf's claws are almost as terrifying as it's bite. A fully grown wolf can have claws spanning up to about 15 centimeters in length, though this may vary in cases of abnormal growth in human form. While an individual could feasibly survive an attack from this creature, they would not walk away unharmed. Any injuries left by a werewolf's claws would end in a large, nasty scar unable to fade or disappear, as the werewolf is a being of Dark nature."
The scars. Lupin's scars were thick and bold, as if whatever had crafted them had cut deep into his face.
But Remus had never missed a day of class before, and there was no way he would be stupid enough to show up to 7am transfiguration after tearing his body apart the previous night. Of course, he had been sick a few days ago, and the month prior around the same time.
While he waited for another thirty days to pass, Regulus quickly devised a plan.
It wasn't easy putting his idea into action— Remus almost never moved from his seat once they were in the potions classroom, leaving Peter to pick up any ingredients they needed. It had taken another week for an opportunity to arise.
When Regulus saw Remus heading for the store cabinet he immediately jumped up, not bothering to make up an excuse for Lily.
He tried his best to stay calm walking into position. Lupin was too busy puzzling over glass vials to notice who was next to him. Regulus took a sharp inhale, gathering his courage before he spoke.
"Remus, would you hand me the belladonna stems, please?"
Remus glanced over, then looked back at the shelves before him. For a moment he didn't move, just watched as if he expected the ingredients to present themselves to him.
"Uh..."
Regulus waited anxiously a while before he realized Lupin really didn't know which one to grab. He raised a brow, pointing up to a— clearly labelled— small, grey bottle on one of the higher shelves.
"Ah," Remus huffed, reaching up for it.
He took it in his hand, then immediately dropped it, letting the bottle fall to the floor. He sucked air between his teeth, pulling his hand back reflexively.
Regulus froze.
He hadn't expected it to work. At all. He was almost positive Lupin would hand him the jar and be on his way, paying no mind to what it was made of. And then Regulus would've felt a bit foolish for even thinking that anything else would've happened, and then he'd forget all about it in a few days.
But that wasn't the case. Something different had happened. Something dreadful.
Remus Lupin had been burned by silver.
Regulus stared at him with bulging eyes, his breath caught in his chest. Remus examined his hand, wincing slightly, then noticed Regulus's expression.
He shook his head, a delayed sigh pushing out of him. "Cut my hand this morning. 'S nothing."
He didn't pick up the bottle before he walked away.
Regulus had spent the rest of that day in a state of utter shock. That had been more than enough proof for him, and by the time November's full moon neared he had almost forgotten to be keen of Lupin's health. Sure enough, the boy had had another flare up.
After that, there was no doubt in his mind that Remus Lupin was a werewolf.
He should've written to his parents immediately, told them all about the despicable creature that Albus Dumbledore had allowed into the safety of Hogwarts. How he and all the students there were at risk of being attacked by a disgusting halfbreed. Obviously, Walburga would demand Lupin be expelled and Dumbledore removed from his position. And Regulus would be praised for his wisdom and everyone would sleep sounder knowing that the monster had been dealt with.
That was the responsible thing to do, and Regulus wanted people to see him as responsible. He should've sent word to his parents.
He should've.
But he didn't.
He told himself it was because he was busy. He was focused on schoolwork and he would make time for it tomorrow. Then tomorrow came and he would put it off until the next day. And then the next, and the next, and the next, until eventually three months had passed and he still hadn't gotten around to it.
Every time he sat down to start his letter his mind would wander to their first meeting on the train. Or the way Sirius's whole face lit up just by looking at him. Or those recent, late afternoons in the library where they sat across from each other in a comfortable silence; not exactly a friendship, more like a mutual, appreciated acquaintance.
It was hard to admit that someone was a monster when you noticed they needed a spell to read.
He swore to himself that he wouldn't get attached. If it came down to it and Remus ever posed a real, imminent danger, he wouldn't hesitate. The second Remus hurt someone he would go straight to Walburga and Orion and tell them everything he knew.
Until then...
Regulus wouldn't interfere with his brothers friendships, halfbreeds or not.