Nobody’s Fault But Mine
Trying to save my soul to light
Oh, it’s nobody’s fault but mine
19th June 1976
“Mother sent a letter.” Regulus announced, slumping onto the Gryffindor bench beside Ara as he tossed Sirius the parchment - ignoring murmurs throughout the Great Hall at the gesture. “We’re apparently expected back for the entire summer, despite previous agreements.” He scowled.
“We’re not going, right?” Ara grimaced, voice wavering on her words.
It had been a night of rough nightmares, leaving the Black twins with matching dark circles and messed hair. For the final Hogsmeade weekend of fifth year, most students had gone all out. Donning their nicest summer clothes and spelling hair neat despite the heat.
Lily and Mary had plans to stock up on magical treats before their muggle holidays - dressed in matching gingham sun dresses. Lily wore a blue and yellow patterned smock with thin ribbon straps; her hair tied in a neat ponytail, fringe pinned back. Mary wore a breezy dress of white and orange, with her curls pulled into two puffy buns. Unlike the sandals most students wore, Mary MacDonald wore a pair of brown cowboy boots.
A gift from an American uncle, she had told the girls over breakfast.
“Fuck no!” Sirius shuddered, crumping the letter into a ball and shooting it into the pumpkin juice jug by the Prewett twins. “They’re just going to try and get you to put that bracelet back on. Probably begin sorting betrothals for Reg and me too.” He snorted out a derisive chuckle.
Sirius Black wore perhaps the laziest outfit he’d ever worn. A creased white t-shirt and black flares - still with remnants of the eyeliner Ara had drawn in his waterline the day before. It was almost comical to see him beside the alert and clean Regulus. Even more so with their their identical outfits; Reg’s shirt properly pressed and jeans a little baggy - clearly borrowed from an older Housemate.
“I know.” Ara sighed, twisting at a wavy strand that had broken free of her lazy bun. Accidentally, she had ended up in a similar outfit to her younger brothers. As though the universe had plugged them in on a silly wavelength that morning as they’d dressed. She wore a muscle tee with a pair of black flairs - the denim so worn it’d faded grey.
“If they try and make me go there, I’m turning into a dog and biting their ankles.” Sirius declared, nodding to himself.
“What if there’s someone at the platform?” Ara chewed her lip; eyes darting across the table. No one seemed to be eavesdropping. She supposed it was too close to the end of term for anyone to particularly care about fresh gossip.
“Boris in my year offered me access to his Floo, if I ever need it.” Upon his sibling’s curious expressions, Regulus elaborated. “We had a DADA lesson that was… not worth getting into, but Diggory said that if I ever needed to sneak away from our parents, his family would help.”
“Boggarts?” Ara asked, a softness to her eyes. He nodded.
“We were lucky that the Slytherins’ fears were so personal too. Mutually assured destruction, if anyone gossips, you know?”
“We had the same with the Slytherins in our year.” Sirius shrugged.
“Oh.” Reg’s voice was soft as he nodded slightly. He took a little moment of frowning though, as though trying to puzzle through something, before he looked back to his siblings. “Are you going to Hogsmeade?”
“Might as well.” Ara and Sirius shrugged together.
“Mind if I join?” Reg asked. “Henry’s off with a girl and David’s trading comics before the break.”
“You’re always welcome, Reggie.” Sirius grinned, reaching over the table to knock his brother’s shoulder.
“We can talk more away from all these ears.” Ara remarked, eyes flitting between different blatant eavesdroppers. Most were their friends, so she didn’t take it too to heart.
Instead, she clambered from the bench, brushed her jeans flat, and signalled for her brothers to follow. Both boys did so with a hurried shuffle - Ara’s lips twitching at their similarity to canines. They were always rather good at following her.
“Do you think we can stop to pick up some parchment?” Reg asked as he stepped in stride beside Ara; Sirius quick to match on her opposite side.
“We just bought you a stack!” Ara laughed. “How are you getting through it so quickly?”
“Quidditch.” Reg shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’m trying to use Arithmancy to plot out the best plays for the team.”
“Neat.” Ara hummed, directing a sharp elbow into Sirius’s ribcage before he could offer some grumble about their brother’s misdirected loyalty. Sirius had jumped headfirst into Gryffindor spirit and sometimes forgot that not everybody was a fellow lion.
“I think I’ve figured out McKinnon’s route on the pitch.” He admitted in a sheepish, quiet voice - eyes darting to his sister’s with a flush. “And if I can follow the plays and predictions, I think I’ve got her beat for the year.”
“I suppose I’ll be sporting yellow for the game, won’t I?” She grinned back, waggling her brows before linking arms with both brother as they walked through the doors of the Great Hall.
It was as they did so that a handful of Slytherins sauntered through the entryway. A few older boys, with their younger cousins in years below. Yaxley, Wilkes, and Rosier - three seventh years - brushed past Sirius’s shoulder as they led the younger Rosier and Carrow twins into the Hall.
It was an arguably ordinary interaction, at first. Killian Rosier nodded towards his cousins with a civilness born of familial obligation; Wilkes grinned a friendly grin as he winked Regulus’s way - the younger boy blushing as though in knowing. It was as Ara contemplated that, as she tried to remember any connection between the Slytherin and her brother that she could find, when she caught the eye of the boy in the middle.
Corban Yaxley was hardly a pretty boy, with his too-pale complexion and glossy sheen of grease that clung to his thin blond hair. He was hardly attractive either, considering how often his lips turned into mean-looking sneers instead of the smirks she thought he might be trying to present.
Still, for a moment as the two groups passed ways, she could ignore the way his eyes flickered over her body - roaming her chest beneath the white tee - before they returned to hers in such a fashion that she shivered. Ara could hold the shudder in her spine as his eyes left hers and the boys walked into the Hall.
She could ignore it all, until Yaxley fucking spoke.
“Looking good, Black!” Yaxley whistled - the girl’s head snapping to face the side as the boy smirked at her bristle.
Sirius and Regulus spun at once, waggling their eyebrows at the older Slytherin boy; grinning as his face pinked.
“We know.” The boys spoke together.
With that, they pulled Ara down the corridor too quickly for her to protest much. Gentle but hurried steps as both boys muttered insults to the Slytherin beneath their breath.
“He’s going to kick your arses, you do know that?” Ara shook her head, her lips pursed as she held in her laughter.
“I’m Hufflepuff seeker.” Reg shrugged. “I’m faster than that brute.”
“And I’m prepared to fight that boy.” Sirius piped in, resolutely.
“Utter morons.” She rolled her eyes.
——
Lily Evans hoped, as she kept staring at the ornate grandfather clock in the corner, that it might speed up the hell of the date she was currently regretting. It was hardly that he wasn’t a nice boy - Carver Dagworth was decent enough, but God was he boring! It was somewhat ironic for one of Hogwarts few transfer students to be so dull.
In her five years at the magical boarding school, only four students had joined past their first year. Carver and his younger sister Caitlin, Clearwater’s cousin (that arrived at the start of their third year, fresh for her fourth), and a recent second year Pureblood whose health was now set for schooling. If anything, the Dagworths had the better tale of their fleeing from Durmstrang in the face of injustice. Two halfbloods forced the flee their home, lest their lives be forfeit to Dark Magic.
Naturally, Lily had thought that Carver must be surely interesting. Relatively new to Scotland, and surely rather excited. When he’d asked her out - seeking her alone in the library - Lily had been truly delighted.
The same could not be said now.
Carver was dull as the blond of his hair. Once she cracked his thick Russian accent, she found him to be frankly boring. He talked about class, about Quidditch, about the newest album from boring magical bands. He simply lacked substance.
Worse, as Lily glanced around the Three Broomsticks, she could not get a single familiar face to find her own. A handful of older Hufflepuff girls that she’d met through Ara and Reg were nearby, but so engrossed in gossip that they had only offered polite waves. Polly Patel and Josie Pritchard, two Ravenclaws in her year, had merely offered insincere smiles and glanced away.
At this rate, she might have to marry him.
“Mind if I sit with you both?”
Lily Evans blinked up at familiar hazel eyes and messed curls - the dishevelled James Potter holding two butterbeers as he grinned down at the pair. The lanterns lit him from behind, light diffused through his dark locks in almost a halo.
“Cheers.” He declared as he shuffled in beside Lily, still beaming as if Carver’s face hadn’t contorted to a frown. “Blimey, it’s busy in here! I thought I wouldn’t find anywhere to sit down.”
“Well, James-” Lily began, her words quickly interrupted by the bespectacled boy.
“Mind giving us a minute, mate?” James glanced Carver’s way, offering a blinding Potter smile. “I need to pick her brain about some stuff, dorm politics if you catch my meaning?” He waggled his brows almost comically at the Ravenclaw, clearly enjoying as his pasty face turned redder and redder.
“Why don’t you look at the menu at the bar?” Lily offered to Carver with a friendly smile. “I wonder what the fish of the day is.”
With a grunt and a glare at James, Carver lurched from the booth - barely glancing back before he stalked towards the bar.
“Ugh, what a nightmare!” James shuddered, pressing his glasses back up his nose as his gaze flicked from trailing Carver to Lily’s amused green eyes. “Why’d you ever agree to go out with him? Did someone dare you?”
“I wish!” She laughed, brow twisting upwards with her slight mortification. “I think I just hoped he might be secretly interesting. He did come to Hogwarts with a lot of fanfare.”
“Hardly.” James snorted, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. “I heard from Frank, Longbottom that is, that the Aurors mad their family take a Vow of Secrecy about their time in Russia.” He shrugged lightly.
“I think you boys might be bigger gossips than Marlene.” Lily shook her head in amusement, taking a sip of her own butterbeer before a feigned gasp erupted from her. “Is that why you came to save me from the dullard? After a bit of fresh gossip to share, are ya?”
“Maybe I just wanted somewhere to sit and drink, and I didn’t want to have to put up with the Russian grump.” James spoke casually. Far too casually.
“I think I get you now.” Lily declared, a hint of clarity so present in her soft words. “It took me a while, but I think I figured you out.”
“Oh really?” James huffed a laugh. “Go on, then.” He looked to her with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
“You’re constantly sorting the rest of us out. You were only fighting Snape ‘cause he was a dick to Sirius and Ara. You do more pranks to Professor Manto than any other teacher, all because she was mean to Ara one time! And you only hated Crouch before he spoke to him, ‘cause he was always fighting Ara and you didn’t like seeing her hurt.” Lily blinked as a slow revelation hit her.
She felt a little like a detective in one of her father’s police dramas. As though she was in the midst of solving one crime, only to spy all the clues and evidence to tie the culprit to another. Her eyes met hazel as they widened in knowing.
James Potter, as open and simple as he seemed, was something of an enigma. And he was a bloody good actor, but he wasn’t so good that he might fool her any longer.
“You’re in love with Ara.” She breathed, watching as the boy’s eyes widened beneath his spectacles - face darkening as it flushed with panic.
God, how had she missed that? There were so many signs, now she truly thought about it.
James Potter had been so very obvious, but she had dismissed him so entirely as some silly boy. No mere fool would be so kind to her friend. So very in love, yet quiet to give the girl the family and home she deserved, without new pressure of betrothal or some great change in her life.
He had given Ara a home, and never once had he pressured her affections.
“You’re a stupidly good man, James Potter.” Lily decided with a disappointed sigh. “I won’t stand in your way when you inevitably get the balls to tell her.”
And she turned to flee from their booth - leaving James Potter squawking indignantly in her wake. Then, with great horror did she freeze in place, spinning around to face the wide-eyed teen with her own horror.
“We can never tell her that we shagged.” Lily blurted. “She might actually kill you.” The girl winced. With a shudder, she practically sprinted from the pub - careful to duck her head as she passed Carver at the bar. Automatically, she traipsed the path towards the sweets shop. Frankly, Lily deserved sugar a after a shock like that.
Once she’d got a few chocolate frogs and toffees, Lily Evans was somewhat contented to watch the people as they busied through their final Hogsmeade trip. The weather was bright and the faces were joyful, and as she sat on a bench by the stationary store… she could accept just how much she would miss it.
That was her struggle of the summer, in a way none other understood. When she left Hogwarts, she left magic for those months. She couldn’t cast any spells, make any potions or really go anywhere magical without someone to witness with magic of their own. Let alone the sharpness of her family - the flash of fear as she spoke of making potions of Living Death and transfiguring toads to teacups.
It just wasn’t the same for any of her friends. As the only Muggleborn Gryffindor in her year, she had to seek out other Houses to find people that might understand her plight.
It was as she considered this, that she realised a person was sat on the bench opposite hers. It was a familiar friend, with those dark curls she envied and dark mole that perched upon his cheek. Regulus Black was sat alone, head tilted down as he flicked through a book that rested in his lap. Despite the bright weather and giggles of Hogsmeade, the teen had a sullen pout upon his thin lips. Dark brow pulled inwards, Regulus looked an utter picture of misery.
Still, it could be said that the boy never looked entirely bad. Considering how well his white shirt sat upon his toned arms, and how soft his hair seemed, Lily would never be able to say he looked truly awful. But he hardly looked pleased.
“Two for two.” She muttered to herself as she hopped from her perch and approached the sullen boy. “Hiya, Reg.” He straightened as her voice reached his ears, tilting his head to glance her way with a shy smile.
“Hello, Lily.” Reg nodded her way, glancing back to his book before placing a yellow bookmark and carefully flipping it shut.
“Where’d the twins run off to?” Lily asked, glancing around the street for familiar heads of black and indigo.
“Sirius went off with a gaggle of Ravenclaw girls,” the teen rolled his eyes, “so when Lupin stumbled across us, Ara ran off with him.” He huffed an exhale. “She said she’d be meet me back here forty minutes ago.”
“Oh Ara.” Lily sighed, sitting on the bench beside him with an ungraceful flop. “She’s such an idiot for someone so smart.”
“Are you not supportive?” He blinked up at her, almost innocently. Were it not for that little gleam she knew so well from Ara’s mischief, Lily could have believed it.
“I’m her best friend, not yours.” The ginger snorted. “Even if I think her reasoning is flawed, I’m not gonna be rude about her current source of happiness.”
“Very well.” Regulus’s lips twitched upwards. “Can we disrespect Sirius’s flair for silly flings, then?”
“Oh, of course.” Lily grinned, waving a hand. “He’s basically an acquaintance. And he definitely shagged Marlene but won’t admit it.”
Regulus shuddered.
“He’s ruined my dating pool.” The boy bemoaned. “I hardly know which girls actually like me and which are trying to settle for the spare after Sirius brushes them aside.”
His words were so oddly bitter. It wasn’t something she thought to describe Regulus as, really. Yet… as he spoke of his brother, she watched his eyes dim. His lips curled downwards, almost melancholy, as he grumbled over Sirius’s conquests.
“It must have been hard,” Lily spoke gently, “always being forced to compete with your brother.”
Regulus stiffened.
“Don’t-”
“Ara told me about how they taught you.” Lily continued, eyes soft against the glare of grey. “How your parents put you and Sirius in classes together, used to log which of you was better at this or that. They made you fight to be heir. And I’m sorry that you and Sirius can’t be brothers because of it.”
“Stop it.” He hissed - eyes darting as though scanning the passing crowds for unfriendly ears.
“One day, you and Sirius will have to work together.” Lily continued. “You can’t… it’ll kill Ara if you don’t.”
He blinked at that; utterly disarmed by her love for his sister. Sometimes, Lily thought that the Black brothers forgot just how widely loved their sister was. Though many still called her ‘mad’ - especially snooty Slytherins and the more rotten of the Ravenclaws (all disgruntled that suddenly the formerly absent student was topping each class) - many loved Ara Black.
It was hard not to.
Though the girl could be a little too set in her own opinions at times, or too condescending whenever she knew an answer another did not, she was kind. Ara was patient and thoughtful and utterly willing to get in a scrap for a friend. God knows she’d done so for Lily.
“I know.” Regulus finally spoke, more a sigh than anything, really. “But… why does everyone always pin the rift on me? He… it’s up to him, this time.” The teen looked to her with those bright grey eyes - wide and open as they blinked shyly her way.
Maybe Lily hadn’t quite known the younger Black sibling as well as she’d thought.
Regulus was not a prideful boy, not really. Certainly, he took pride in his achievements and because he was a Black she had considered it garish.
He was a wallflower. A poet, of a kind, with a brother that took all attention away. He had grown up in a place where expression meant punishment, and Lily had labelled his quiet as a lack of bravery. But it simply was. There was a kind of strength to steeling yourself in the face of violence. Of keeping what makes you yourself, and holding it tightly and carefully.
“I’m so sorry.” Lily sighed, pinching her brow. “I think I need to have a conversation with your brother.”
Her lips tugged into a frown, brow furrowing as her fingers moved to run through her hair. Regulus must have found something on her face, some sign of solidarity that seemed to stun him briefly. Then, with a blink, he spoke with a wry little grin.
“Can I watch?”
——
24th June 1976
The storm was wretched and crackling in the air, invisible but rumbling in their bones. It felt like only the Black twins and Pandora could feel it. As though only they could sense the growing darkness on the horizon. The sizzle to the air, like lightning about to strike.
Sometimes Ara wondered if that was the source of her migraine. That, much like her animagus form, she sensed the gloomy weather. And it burned.
Maybe that was why she felt so sick to her stomach. Why she could barely face anyone, save for her girls and Remus.
It wasn’t that she was desperate to be thinner or anything. Sometimes she wished it was that, just so she’d feel like she had an end goal. Instead, it felt like a curse. As though someone had cursed her food to always taste wrong, for the texture to always feel incorrect and gross.
Her mother had always portioned out her meals as a child. About half the nutrition her brothers received. A perfect pureblooded wife was supposed to be petite. Sure enough, Ara Black was. Despite her somewhat tall stature, her limbs were thin and willowy. If she stretched, her ribcage clung to her skin.
Over time, it began to make her feel physically sick to look at herself. Mirrors made her look more like an inferi than a witch. And worse, no one seemed to notice. Her friends told her she looked so pretty, boys whistled as she walked past in corridors.
Comments that she looked like Cher, like Lynda Carter or whichever Muggle actress that looked like she dieted more than she ate.
Especially now that she’d tamed her curls. Especially with their dusk shade of indigo, the length matching her two best friends.
Compliments and jealousy regarding her form had been enough to sate her. A twisted pride at her ability to last this long, to still detest food in all its forms.
Ara had been so caught in that sickening ego of it all, she’d hardly stopped to actually look at her body. By the time she did - stood naked before the mirror in the dorm bathroom, inspecting each inch of skin - the sight disgusted her. Bones against pale skin, sunken cheeks and sorrowful eyes.
So, she’d slapped a half dozen glamours on herself, and found Remus for a little romp in a broom closet.
Nothing was right. And it felt as though it was unsolvable.
One week. That was the time until the end of term. Not enough time to fix her mind; to keep her brothers safe.
Perhaps that was why she couldn’t stomach a single mouthful of food.
Every bite tasted bitter, felt like ash and dirt on her tongue.
But it was fine, she rationalised. She was magic - lack of nutrition for a week or so wouldn’t kill her. She’d survive this final stretch of term, try to recover her spirits at the Potter Manor over summer.
She’d keep hoping that, even if it didn’t feel real.
Besides, there were other things to preoccupy her time, like the brilliant last hurrah of the Prewett twins.
In their final weeks at Hogwarts, the infamous pranking duo set out to provide a spectacular close to their mischievous career.
There were sweet laughs and smiles on their peers faces as they joined in, picking their tune of choice as they marched through the halls. The Prewetts had patted them on the back for their grand idea, warning the lot not to go down the Potions corridors, lest they wanted to be dyed neon by puffs of pigment. Seeing the Slytherins coated in pink and yellow powder, the Gryffindors couldn’t help their giggles.
As long as there was joy to be found, Ara was happy to keep pretending.
——
James Potter had noticed something truly wretched, and he didn’t like it one bit.
He spent most of his time now watching Ara, it was hardly a surprise that he noticed her eating habits. he’d been nervous all year, noticing her meals dwindling - breakfast stopped being attended, lunch was a brief bite of fruit, dinner gradually reduced down to toddler sized portions. She’d be offered a bite of chocolate by Remus and he’d watch her accept it, only to sneak it into her pocket and pretend to chew. How she’d started having to pull up her socks constantly before she’d just shrunk them. How her jumper hung lose over her form and her cheeks looked gaunt. He tried to broach it with Sirius, but the boy had seemed already too concerned about his sister and James didn’t know how to add this to his plate without cracking it.
But when Ara stopped showing up for all meals, the pieces clicked in Sirius’s head. He did his research first though - not wanting to throw the words around incorrectly. First, he asked Evans if she knew where Ara was going during meals. Well, he bluntly questioned when he managed to catch her by herself. She glared at him and informed him primly that Ara told her she was going to the kitchens this week.
That night, at dinner, Sirius watched the map as they ate. He didn’t find Ara in the kitchens like Evans thought, however. Instead she paced around the castle, visited the library and finally went outside to sit by the lake. Probably smoking half a pack, given how she’d showered right after.
He checked the next lunchtime. He found her in the Common Room, her footsteps pacing around the empty room. A shower before people returned, a sneaky look into her pack showing it nearly empty.
The next dinner, she was in her dorm room the whole time.
Twice was a coincidence, three times was a pattern. And Sirius’s stomach flipped as he realised how thickheaded he had been. The thoughts of guilt and the awful question of what to do stuck themselves in the forefront of his mind; distracting him the entire way back to the common room. The others seemed to notice, as they went immediately to their dorm and not to sit by the fire for a little while.
“Ara hasn’t been eating.” He announced bitterly to the room, after nearly an hour of silence.
The three other boys all looked up from their cards to him.
They were sat in the middle of the room, Sirius sprawled across his bed while the other boys sat cross-legged playing exploding snap on the floor. As Sirius looked down at their wide eyes, he felt so small.
“What do you mean?” Remus asked carefully, something clearly beginning to click in his head. Peter and James, on the other hand, looked to Sirius with a terrifying understanding.
“Oh come on, Remus.” Sirius rolled his eyes dangerously. “If you haven’t noticed, you’re purposefully not looking.” He glared, still bitter at the boy’s relationship with his twin.
“I mean… I said about it once but she just said she was stressed.”
“And you left it there?” James frowned. “Your supposed girlfriend, and you don’t ask a second question?”
“We don’t ask second questions.” He growled, eyes flashing gold.
“And you call yourself a good boyfriend?” Sirius growled back, silver gleaming down at gold in threat. And for once, the gold receded immediately.
“I don’t…” he desperately grit out, wide eyes roaming his friends with pleading.
“Merlin, Moony.” Sirius shook his head with disgust. “You were supposed to look after her.”
“I do!” He exclaimed guiltily.
“How?” James glared. “Because from where I’m sitting, she spends all her time helping you out. And all you do is let her down.”
There was nothing the boy could say in reply.
Because James was right. Remus had been a shit boyfriend for a very long time. Too caught in the possession of the girl he liked to notice that under his care; she had been withering. His affections were not enough.
He could want her with every fibre of his being, and it wouldn’t repair her. It wouldn’t solve the curses of her mind, the madness in her blood. And it would not mean she would ever love him as he’d thought he did her.
They had been living on borrowed time.
“How do we fix it, then?” Remus breathed, resigned to his fate.
“We could get Reg to talk to her? She might be pissed at us, but she’d never pass on time with the baby.” Sirius mused.
“We could get him to take her to an empty classroom, lock her in and hold an intervention.” Peter chimed in, thoughtfully.
“Someone will need to take her wand, or she’ll just spell her way out immediately.” Remus sighed, shaking out his long fringe.
“I’m finding Lily and involving her.” Sirius announced, slapping his shins as he stood.
“I’ll find Pandora.” James nodded as he reached to snatch the map from Sirius’s bed and spy where the odd blonde was.
“We can come up with what to tell Pomphrey.” Peter decided, shooting a warning lot at Remus, a though warning him to go along with some kind of plan. The werewolf wasn’t quite sure what the other boy was up to; nodding nonetheless in agreement.
“Alright.” Sirius nodded. “We’ll meet back here in an hour.”
With that, the two boys fled the dorms - huddle and whispering over the map. It left Remus with Peter. Something that often felt a relief, but had been less so as of late. Since that stupid fight with Barty, Remus knew.
Peter had heard what the Slytherin boy had claimed. And, well… it was hardly like he could say anything that would get a quizzical reply. He was screwed.
Because Barty bloody Crouch had been more accurate than Remus was willing to acknowledge. It was hardly like he’d felt anything for Sirius first… except, he’d be lying if he said that boy hadn’t made him blush since they’d met.
Sirius Black was simply in a league above any other mortal. The Blacks were named for stars, and his was true to the legend. By God, did the boy glow. Sirius Black shined with each devious grin and sparkle of mischief - each bark of laughter and wiggle of his fingers in jest.
It… it didn’t mean Remus didn’t care about Ara. They had been each other’s first and that bond had cemented more than she knew. She was his first true friend, and the girl he’d loved since he’d spied their matching scars.
But Peter knew that Remus would be lying if he said he never once wished… that he’d turned Sirius’s head instead of hers.
“Tell me you love her.” Peter turned to Remus once the thundering footfalls of their friends had softened on their decent. “Please tell me you loved her so much you didn’t notice.”
“I… I can’t.” He looked down at his lap, at his twisting fingers as he fidgeted under Peter’s intense gaze.
“You’re an idiot.” The blond spoke softly. “Why are you doing this? Why’d you get with her in the first place?”
“I do like her.” Remus looked up, growling softly as he half-glared at his friend. “And… she’s like sunshine. Like that moment in the morning after the moon, right when I know I’m going to be okay.”
“That’s because since you were twelve years old, she’s been that. She’s been there every morning after the full moon.” Peter frowned, oddly calm as he spoke with great disappointment. “She’s a person, she’s our friend, not a bloody symbol.”
“I know that!”
“Then why are you still doing this?” Peter snapped, unrelenting as Remus’s eyes flashed gold.
“Because someone has to keep her from killing herself!” Remus growled back; hands clenched into fists.
“How the fuck do you think you’re accomplishing that?” Peter scoffed. He must have seen something in the werewolf’s expression - something deep in his eyes that made him blanche in horror. “You’ve been shagging her onto submission. Oh my Gods, Remus.”
“I didn’t want her fighting Avery and Crouch anymore.” He spoke in a small voice.
“God, mate.” Peter shook his head; brow pinched and disappointed. “If you don’t break up with her, I’ll do it for you.” He promised. “I remember what Barty said.”
“Alright.” Remus nodded - head downcast and utterly shamed.
“You can be a prick sometimes, Moony.” Peter sighed with a shake of his head; words laced with scathing disappointment.
“Yeah,” Remus huffed a bitter sigh, “I know.”
——
25th June 1976
The Marauders did not need an ornate plan to confront Ara’s lack of eating, in the end.
The next morning, as they whispered about the plot throughout Transfiguration, it was gradually falling apart - just past their perception. Now OWLs were over, the boys could have cared less about paying attention to the droning of their Professors covering topics they were sure to rehash the next year.
“I expect your essays on Calvert’s Principles of Conjuration by Friday.” McGonagall warned the class, her eyes flickering over to the Marauders with a stern expression.
“Cross my heart, Minnie.” Sirius grinned, stuffing papers into his book bag.
“Don’t make promises you cannot keep, Black.” The woman warned, though the boys all noticed her lip twitch at his antics. She loved it secretly.
“Moony, have you still got that text from the library?” James queried as the boys shuffled from their desks - his head ducked as he rummaged his bag. “I need to cross reference that bit about-”
His voice dropped at the sound of an almighty crash towards the front of the room. Those still milling about in the classroom shot to stare at the cause; save for Sirius.
He vanished from the boys side immediately, desperately rushing towards the source. Naturally, they followed suit; freezing as they gawked at the sight before them.
It had been Ara.
Her body lay limp on the granite, books fallen around her form as her twin pulled her into his arms. Lily by his side, shaking her desperately. In her unconscious state, whatever beauty glamours she had cast vanished. And she looked deathly.
Skin so pale it was nearly translucent; her pink burns so very prominent against the white. The bags under her eyes were more like bruises, her cheeks gaunt and hollow. How hadn’t they noticed? How could they not see though it before?
McGonagall tugged the fallen girl into her arms, barking orders for other students to head to their next class - snapping for Sirius to follow her. Though she may not have encouraged the others, they trailed behind. Exchanging fearful glances as they huddled together on their path towards the hospital wing.
They huddled at the end of her bed, holding hands as Pomphrey fretted and fed her potions.
“There’s always at least one with OWLs.” She muttered as she cast a diagnostic charm, tutting at the reds and oranges that appeared. “Too busy sorting out for NEWTs to make it to the Great Hall, eh?” She shook her head sadly, looking to the compiled students for confirmation. They merely looked down with shame - the gravity of the situation dawning on the two older witches as they exchanged an uneasy glance.
“I shall fetch the younger Mr Black, once those who are not family have returned to class.” McGonagall ordered, moving to usher the Gryffindors.
“Professor,” Lily piped up hesitantly, frozen in place, “will she… is she going to be alright?”
“Poppy will do her damndest to make sure.” Minerva’s face softened with understanding, her hand reaching to squeeze the girl’s shoulder in comfort. “Best to let her rest up while we get her sorted.”
It was with a hesitant nod that Lily finally departed, promising to let others know that Ara was okay.
Remus hovered for only a moment, letting Peter gently ease him out of the wing.
“Mr Potter, that does mean you as well.” Madame Pomphrey sighed, looking to the dark haired boy as he hovered beside Ara’s bed - looking to her with blank eyes.
“I’m not leaving.” He declared stubbornly, sitting in the chair beside her bed. “You might as well give me detention now, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”
The older witch looked to him for a moment; a peculiar softness to her stern stare. She shared a look with McGonagall - something the teenagers didn’t quite understand yet. It was an understanding between the two.
“Very well.” She acquiesced with a deep sigh.
“I shall inform your professors that you shall not be in lessons today.” Minerva spoke firmly, nodding to them stiffly as she wavered by the curtains. She opened her mouth as though to say something, shutting it with an exhale through her nose.
“Will she be alright, Minnie?” Sirius asked softly.
“Your sister has endured and survived far more than this.” Minerva sighed. “And we will get her through it. I swear to you that I will keep her safe.”
It was more than a simple promise for the moment. Rather, she was vowing something deeper, something only Sirius understood. In their five years at Hogwarts, their Head of House had slowly integrated herself as a strangely maternal presence.
So Sirius nodded in reply. And he let her place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing his tense joint, before she swept away.
He had a sister to watch over.