Mortal Once More

November 3rd, 1983 - The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon 

“I don’t believe we’ve had a proper conversation yet, have we, Regulus?” 

Reluctantly, he tears his eyes away from Fabian, who’s currently the focus of attention for his small - and quite possibly insane - twin nephews. 

Despite the fact that Regulus had openly defied Lord Voldemort a mere three days ago - and come out victorious, against all the odds - he can’t help but wince slightly as he meets Molly Weasley’s gaze. There was nothing inherently threatening or even aggressive in her words; given everything he’s faced in the past few years, he really shouldn’t be intimidated by his boyfriend’s short sister. And yet. 

“Uh…have we not?” he asks, looking warily up at her from his position on the sofa next to Fabian. 

He darts a nervous glance over at his boyfriend, hoping he’ll prompt him, feeling a surge of irritation at the accuracy of Remus’s comment about his social awkwardness. Fabian, however, appears rather preoccupied by his five-year-old twin nephews, who have apparently decided to use him as their own personal climbing frame, both of them shrieking with delight. 

“No, we have not,” Molly replies in answer to his question, smiling at him in a way that somehow feels like a threat. “But I think the time is ripe for us to have a little chat, don’t you?” Regulus can’t honestly say that he agrees; but he has the distinct feeling it was a rhetorical question. “Given that my little brother - in his own words - couldn’t live with himself if anything ever happened to you?” 

“Oh, Merlin,” Fabian groans as Regulus, predictably, feels the blood rush immediately to his cheeks. His boyfriend finally looks up, even as he tries to keep hold of two extremely wriggly redheaded boys, both of whom are now cackling maniacally. “Leave him alone , Molly.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Fabian,” she answers calmly, without looking away from Regulus, “Regulus and I are just having a chat, that’s all. Besides, he’s quite capable of taking care of himself, from the sounds of it.” 

He squirms a little, not entirely sure whether she means that as a compliment or an insult. Somehow, he thinks it might be both - which is sort of impressive, really. 

“Now, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you, Regulus, that my brother is very special,” Molly continues. “And I hope I don’t have to remind you that he has been through a lot .” 

“No,” Regulus murmurs, softening a little despite himself, glancing over at the beautiful man sitting next to him. “You don’t have to remind me of either of those things.” 

Fabian’s cheeks turn decidedly pink at that, clashing with his bright red curls; Regulus suddenly finds himself biting back a smile. Merlin, but he loves this man. 

“Well…” For the first time, Molly Weasley looks slightly wrong-footed for a second, as if she hadn’t been expecting him to agree with her. “Good, I’m glad. Because, I don’t know if you know this, but Fabian is besotted with you - and he seems quite convinced that you’re worthy of him.”

“Please stop talking,” her brother mutters, burying his steadily reddening face in his hands, but Molly goes on as though he hadn’t said a word. 

“I don’t know if I am worthy of him, actually,” Regulus tells her, trying his best to keep his voice and his gaze steady. “But I certainly strive to be.” 

“Reg,” Fabian mutters, raising his head to narrow his eyes at him, even as one of the twins takes it upon themself to climb onto his shoulders, “ don’t put yourself down -” 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re putting in the effort,” Molly says loudly, again ignoring her brother’s input. “Because, from what I gather, although you’ve done a few undeniably heroic deeds over the past few months, you’ve also had a wobble or two along the way - and it has to be said that you haven’t always made the most noble or moral decisions, have you?” He doesn’t miss the way her gaze moves to his left forearm, as though she can see through his sleeve to where the Dark Mark has been burned into his skin, her lips pursing slightly. He tries to ignore the way her implication burrows between his ribs like a small creature, gnawing at him. “But it seems you’ve put all of that behind you now, yes? As much as possible, at least. And if you’re willing to learn from your mistakes and make my brother your priority, and as long as you realise how lucky you are to have him -” 

“What’s going on here, pray tell?” says a loud, obnoxious and very familiar voice, cutting Molly off. 

Regulus turns to see that his brother and best friend have finally returned from their venture upstairs. 

Remus had muttered something about needing to give Sirius his birthday present, and promptly proceeded to pull his very eager-looking boyfriend upstairs by the hand before anyone had the chance to ask any follow-up questions. Remus hadn’t bothered to explain why he couldn’t just put Sirius’s present on the huge coffee table, like everyone else had done; and nobody seemed at all surprised that this mysterious present had apparently taken almost forty minutes to hand over. 

Regulus tries not to wrinkle his nose too much at the dishevelled state of the two of them, and the fact that Remus’s shirt is clearly completely misbuttoned; after all, he had been hiding with the Potters for months, and Sirius had had to keep his visits rather limited in that time, for fear of drawing unwanted attention towards Godric’s Hollow. So Regulus supposes he can cut them some slack, especially given it is Sirius’s birthday. Still, he’d never particularly wanted to know this much about his brother’s celebrations. 

“What’s this?” Sirius continues, looking at Molly with a defiant expression on his face. “Are we giving Reggie the shovel talk? Doesn’t sound like a very balanced discussion from where I’m standing, I have to say.” 

“Leave it, Sirius,” Regulus mutters, narrowing his eyes at him; but his brother, predictably, completely ignores him. 

“I’m just saying, it seems a bit rich of you, criticising my brother’s ability to ‘make moral decisions’, given that he was instrumental, three days ago, in bringing down the sadistic, remorseless bastard who terrorised wizarding Britain for the last decade, and no doubt had you living in perpetual fear about your family’s safety,” Sirius continues, gesturing at Arthur Weasley and the seemingly endless redheaded children scattered around the large living room. “Not to mention, Reg put his own life on the line over two years ago when he betrayed that man, and he’s been risking his life every goddamn day since, working tirelessly behind the scenes to make sure we were all eventually rid of the bastard. So it seems to me like your brother’s taste in men is pretty damn good, actually - well, maybe not quite as good as it used to be,” he amends, throwing Fabian a wink and a grin. “But still, he could definitely do a lot worse.” 

“For fuck’s sake,” Fabian mutters, burying his face in his hands again, as Molly stares open-mouthed at Sirius, temporarily struck speechless; apparently, this last bit is new information for her. 

“Besides which, although it may be true that Fab is sexy and a bloody good kisser,” Sirius continues adamantly - Fabian buries his face in his hands even more deeply at this, emitting a small, resigned sound, while Regulus and Remus both glare at Sirius, the latter pointedly disentangling his hand, though none of this seems to deter him - “that doesn’t make him perfect. He’s not on some pedestal above Reg - yes, yes, I know you would never claim to be,” he adds, waving an impatient hand at Fabian as he opens his mouth indignantly. “You have more sense than some other people I might mention, it seems.” Sirius switches his gaze back to Molly, taking a step towards her, his jaw clenched, a rather intense, aggressive expression on his face. “My point is, Fab knows damn well that he’s just as lucky to have Reg as Reg is to have him. And some people might do well to remember that, before they start casting aspersions on my little brother’s morals - wouldn’t you agree, Molly?” 

“Alright,” Regulus interjects hastily, leaping up from the sofa as Molly Weasley opens her mouth to retort; he reaches out to grip Sirius’s arm, because he looks like he’s fully prepared to fight Fabian’s sister right here and now, in front of all her children. 

Fabian tries to leap up, too, though he’s rather more hindered by the two small boys hanging off him. 

“I’ve taken your points into consideration,” Regulus continues, turning to Molly. Despite his attempt to keep his tone casual, he’s suddenly feeling absurdly emotional, almost choked up. Which is stupid. Obviously. “But I think it might perhaps be best if we continue the discussion some other time, when my idiot of a brother can’t butt in.” 

“I think maybe my sister can keep her opinions to herself for a little while, actually,” Fabian says, glaring down at her. 

“You can’t call me an idiot right now, Reg,” Sirius pipes up, pouting at him like a small child. “For one thing, I was literally defending you, you prick. And for another, it’s my birthday. Moony knows he has to be nice to me on my birthday.” 

Remus sighs as everyone stares at him, his cheeks going pink as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Regulus wrinkles his nose. 

“Speaking of your birthday, I actually have something for you, too,” he responds.

“You do?” Sirius asks, looking genuinely surprised by this. 

“Well, provided you can actually manage to shut up for a few minutes, I do,” Regulus retorts flatly. 

“Unlikely,” Sirius replies, smirking. “Depends how good the present is, really. Be pretty hard to beat Moony’s.” 

“I am literally begging you to stop talking,” Regulus mutters, wrinkling his nose again. He turns to his boyfriend. “Fab?” 

“Right, yep,” the taller man says, turning away from his sister, with whom he appears to have been having a stern - yet entirely wordless - conversation. “It’s in my bag.”

“Hope you checked that bag thoroughly this time,” Remus comments, looking mildly amused now. “No surprise rats in there?” 

“Ha, ha,” Fabian replies in a thoroughly unamused tone, looking up briefly to shoot him an uncharacteristic glare. Still feeling guilty, then. “Yes, I checked it thoroughly this time…wait,” he mutters, frowning as he looks around. “Where the hell is my bag? I could have sworn I put it down on the coffee table…” 

“You mean this bag ?” asks one of the five-year-old twins, grinning slyly up at his uncle and presenting his familiar large satchel bag, seemingly from out of nowhere. 

Regulus blinks; when had the kid even had time to take that, without any of them noticing?

“Ah,” says Fabian, straightening up again, not looking surprised in the slightest. “Yes, that would be the one. Give that to Regulus, please, Fred.” 

“No, I’m George ,” the small child corrects him, his eyes widening in innocent surprise. 

Regulus frowns slightly; it’s not like his boyfriend to mix his nephews up, especially being a twin himself. But Fabian, rather than apologising, just rolls his eyes, grinning at the kid more affectionately than ever.

“Nice try, Fred. You have more freckles than George, plus a birthmark next to your ear, like mine. Plus, I know for a fact that George is the one currently hanging off me, because he cuddles more than you do. And you’re both sneaky little shits, but you’re definitely the sneakiest.” 

“Language, Fabian!” Molly says exasperatedly, throwing her hands up - but Fabian ignores her entirely, still grinning down at his nephew. 

“You’ll have to work a bit harder than that to fool me, you should know that by now. So, again; hand that bag over to Regulus, please, Fred.” 

Scowling, the five-year-old finally does as he’s told. Sirius beams down at him with a look of deep admiration on his face; Regulus struggles not to roll his eyes as he hoists his boyfriend’s bag over his shoulder. 

“Wait,” Sirius says, suddenly frowning a little, “why does he have to give it to Reg? It’s my birthday present in there?” 

“It is, yes,” Regulus concedes, “but I’m not giving it to you here in front of everyone.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because I don’t want you making a whole scene, that’s why,” he retorts.

Alright, fine - so maybe he’s a little scared that he might accidentally make a scene. Just a little. But nobody needs to know that, do they? 

“Is there somewhere my brother and I can go that’s a bit…quieter?” he asks, turning back to Molly and trying his best not to grimace as he gestures to her many - very loud -  children scattered around the room. 

She hesitates for a second, but Fabian gives her a warning look; apparently catching it, she makes a passing effort at a smile. 

“Well, you could go down to the end of the garden, see where Bill and Charlie have set up their Quidditch hoops?” She points out of the kitchen window. “It’s a bit chilly out there, of course, but then, that means the boys won’t be likely to disturb you.” 

Bit chilly in here, too, Regulus muses, trying his hardest not to give her a deadpan look. 

“Thank you, that sounds perfect,” he says instead. “Sirius?” 

He heads for the back door without waiting for his response; predictably, Sirius immediately follows him anyway, grumbling to himself a little. 

“Well?” he asks, the moment they reach the makeshift Quidditch hoops at the bottom of the Weasleys’ modest back garden. “What is this present that I’m apparently going to make a scene about?”

Regulus hesitates for a moment, glancing back towards the house to ensure they’re not in view of the kitchen or living room. He feels much more nervous, all of a sudden, than he had expected to. Which makes sense, he supposes. After all, he hasn’t actually given his brother a birthday present for about ten years now. 

“I, uh…” He fumbles for a moment inside Fabian’s satchel bag, before pulling out, with slightly shaking hands, a medium-sized parcel wrapped rather clumsily in red and gold wrapping paper. Gryffindor colours. “Sorry about the shitty wrapping,” he says, with a small, awkward laugh. “I tried to do it the Muggle way; figured that was more fitting, considering the gift…” Sirius looks at him quizzically as he takes the parcel from him. “Anyway,” Regulus continues, wincing a little at his own overly loud voice; he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Happy birthday, idiot.” 

Sirius begins to unwrap the present with an absurd look of concentration on his face, as though he’s trying his utmost not to damage either the present itself or the paper. This caution is so uncharacteristic that Regulus wonders, for a moment, if his brother is feeling as inexplicably nervous as he is right now. And then - 

“Oh,” says Sirius quietly, almost a whisper, grey eyes wide. 

His hands seem to be shaking a little now, as he slowly and reverently unfolds the large, roughly made patchwork blanket that the two of them had spent weeks working on in secret, by hand, all those years ago. He holds it up in front of him, his eyes scanning over the once-bright patterns and colours that have faded a little with age. The look on his face suggests he can’t quite believe he’s really holding it. 

“Thought you might be glad to see that old thing again,” Regulus says quietly, smiling a little at the stunned look on his face. 

“I…” Sirius’s voice comes out hoarse; he clears his throat and tries again. “I thought you would have gotten rid of it. Or Mother would have burned it, or something.” 

“No,” Regulus answers, fidgeting a little now. “No, Mother doesn’t know about it. I never would have let her touch it, Sirius. It’s been tucked away at the back of my drawer, surrounded in protective enchantments.” 

“Oh,” Sirius whispers again. 

He pauses for a moment, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, as though trying to get his emotions under control.

“So your birthday present for me is a blanket, huh?” he asks, looking at Regulus with a valiant attempt at a teasing grin. “You do realise I’m turning twenty-four, right, Reg?”

Regulus gives him a small shrug, though he imagines his effort to appear nonchalant is probably about as successful as Sirius’s was. 

“Yeah, well,” he says, “you’ll always be a child, won’t you?” 

Sirius huffs out a laugh at that. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his smile growing almost unbearably fond now. “Yeah, that’s probably fair, actually.” 

His grey eyes are definitely glistening a little now; the sight makes something burn at the back of Regulus’s throat. 

A moment later, he finds himself being pulled into his older brother’s arms, for the second time in three days. 

“Thank you,” Sirius whispers, his voice much croakier than usual. “Thank you for keeping it safe for me.” 

“I kept it safe for us , actually,” Regulus corrects him, blinking back tears of his own. Sirius sniffles loudly into his hair. 

“Godric, shut up, Reggie!” he complains loudly. “Don’t make me cry harder , can’t you see I’m embarrassing myself enough already?” 

Regulus tries to roll his eyes. He can’t quite seem to manage it. 

“Alright, alright. Stop getting your snot all over me.” 

“No,” Sirius responds petulantly, squeezing him tighter. Regulus laughs wetly. 

“Fair enough.” 

He buries his face in his brother’s shoulder, in a futile effort to hide the evidence of his own tears. 

“Happy birthday again,” he whispers, his face still hidden. “I…I love you.” 

Sirius raises his head, looking down at him with his lower lip trembling. 

“Sorry,” Regulus says automatically. “I’m not really used to saying it, I guess. I’m still…learning.” 

“That is one thing you do not need to apologise for, you tosser,” Sirius huffs, before hiding his face in Regulus’s curls, squeezing him again. “I love you too, Reggie.” 

They stay like that for a few endless moments, not speaking, just relishing in that ridiculous feeling of warmth and safety that’s so much… theirs. Like the faded patchwork blanket Sirius is still clutching, it seems that soul-deep connection, the sanctuary they had once found in each other, had never actually gone anywhere, never been destroyed. It had just been locked away. Kept safe for another day. 

“Alright, we’d better go back inside,” Regulus mutters finally, reluctantly pulling away. “They’ll think we’re either crying, or duelling each other.” 

“Equally likely possibilities, I suppose,” his brother replies, grinning a little even as he sniffles, wiping his eyes with his leather sleeve. 

“We’re fine!” Sirius announces loudly, completely unprompted, as the pair of them walk back into the Weasleys’ living room. 

He’s clutching the strap of Fabian’s bag - which now has the blanket tucked safely inside it again - fiercely, as though he thinks somebody might try to tug it away from him. 

“Nobody suggested that you weren’t?” Arthur Weasley points out, finally looking up from the book of knitting patterns that James has been showing him, which the two of them had been deeply absorbed in since Remus had pulled Sirius upstairs over an hour ago. 

“Oh…right, yeah,” Sirius responds awkwardly. “Well…we are. Fine, that is.” 

“Good to know,” says Fabian, smirking at the pair of them, evidently not believing Sirius at all.

This time, Regulus does roll his eyes, though he can’t quite repress his grin either. With a small sniffle, he settles himself on the sofa next to Fabian again. His boyfriend immediately wraps his free arm around him; his other arm appears to be in use as a canvas for both twins to draw on, their faces cracked into identical, mischievous grins. Regulus takes a moment to silently marvel, once again, at his boyfriend’s unending patience. 

Sitting in the armchair on Fabian’s other side, Narcissa finally looks up from her book, raising one eyebrow as she glances between Sirius and Regulus with a vaguely exhausted expression on her face. Evidently deciding the pair of them aren’t worth wasting her breath on, she lets out a small sigh, shaking her head slightly as she returns her attention to her book. 

Her small child, Draco, is sitting on her lap; the moment he sees Regulus sit down on the sofa, though, he climbs down from his mother’s lap and toddles purposefully towards him, sitting himself down next to Regulus’s feet without a word. 

“Um…hi?” Regulus says to him awkwardly. 

It comes out sounding more like a question than he had meant it to. Draco doesn’t actually respond; he just looks up at him with wide grey eyes, a mirror image of his mother, and shuffles a little closer. 

Fabian snorts quietly. 

“Shut up, Prewett,” Regulus mutters. “Not everyone is gifted with the inherent ability to make children love them, you know.” 

“Well, you seem to be doing alright with that child in particular,” Fabian points out, grinning. “Look at him, Reg. He’s besotted with you.” He turns to face the small boy. “You and me both, kid.”

Regulus hesitates, looking down at Draco again. He has to admit, the small boy does seem to be sort of fascinated by him, for some inexplicable reason. 

“Merlin knows why.” 

Fabian promptly retracts his free arm from around his shoulders and smacks him lightly on the back of the head.

“ Ow!” Regulus complains, glaring at his boyfriend petulantly, despite the fact that Fabian had barely even touched him. “What was that for?!” 

“I’ve honestly lost track of how many times I’ve told you not to put yourself down,” his boyfriend tells him sternly. “That kid clearly has good taste.” 

“He does, yes,” Narcissa agrees, looking up from her book and smiling down at her son. Fabian blinks at her, looking a little stunned; clearly, he’d never expected her to agree with him, of all people. “You used to come visiting sometimes when Draco was very little, remember, Regulus?” she asks, turning back to him. “He remembers you. Clearly, you made quite the impression.” 

“What’s got you two so absorbed in the paper, anyway?” Sirius asks. 

Remus has, indeed, been quietly reading Lily’s copy of The Prophet over her shoulder, perched unobtrusively on the arm of her armchair; Sirius doesn’t manage to be quite so unobtrusive as he throws himself down behind his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. Neither Lily nor Remus answer his question.

“What do you need to know the news for, Lils?” he repeats, kicking her lightly in the shin to try and get her attention; she kicks him back, harder, without hesitation. “You and Moony are the news, aren’t you?” 

“We are not ‘the news’,” Lily answers, rolling her eyes. 

“I mean…you sort of are,” Regulus contradicts her. “Well…mostly you, anyway.”

“And Meggie, too,” Fabian interjects, beaming over at her - she’s standing in the kitchen with Andromeda, baking and chatting. 

Meggie rolls her eyes, but she can’t stop herself grinning back at him, her cheeks flushed with pride, before turning back to help Andromeda with Sirius’s birthday cake. They both seem to be thoroughly enjoying baking in the Muggle way. Andromeda’s ten-year-old daughter Nymphadora (a temporary moment of insanity on Andromeda’s part while still hazy after childbirth, apparently, but she and Sirius mostly seem to refer to the girl as Dora), is standing on her mother’s other side. She’s knocked over at least six things in the kitchen already and somehow seems to have coated her short, bright pink hair with flour; but she seems to be having the time of her life anyway, animatedly hypothesising about Hogwarts and Sorting with the Weasleys’ second son, Charlie (both of them will be starting at the school next September). 

Dora’s grey eyes are alight with mischief and excitement as she chats to him, which makes her look, despite her bright pink hair, remarkably similar to her mother’s favourite cousin. 

Bill is sitting on one of the kitchen stools, despite the fact it’s still term time and he should technically be at school. Theoretically, he’s helping with Sirius’s cake, but in actual fact, all he appears to be doing is staring up at Meggie with an awestruck look on his freckled face; every time she smiles at him, seeming to sense his gaze, the twelve-year-old boy immediately ducks his head, fidgeting, his face turning almost as red as his hair. Fabian had suggested to Meggie that Bill might appreciate it if she shared her experiences with him, so that both of them might feel a little more understood. Regulus is pretty sure that Meggie would do anything Fabian suggested at this point; and as for Bill, he had thoroughly appreciated chatting with Meggie, from the looks of it. 

Regulus has a sneaking suspicion his boyfriend had gone to McGonagall and told her Molly wanted Bill home for a few days ‘after everything that had happened.’ McGonagall knows what had happened to Bill, of course, which undoubtedly makes her more disposed to be lenient than usual, especially as it is a weekend - though Regulus suspects she wouldn’t have denied Fabian’s request regardless, knowing now how heavily involved he was in the plan to destroy Voldemort. 

Following the events at the Riddle House the other night, they had all debated carefully which details they actually needed to share with the Ministry - and by extension, Rita Skeeter and The Prophet - and which details were best kept to themselves. It was difficult to deny that Regulus and Sirius had been rather heavily involved - in fact, given that both Narcissa and Andromeda had been on the scene, as well as the body of their oldest sister being found next to Voldemort’s, the whole Black family had been thrust into the spotlight. And not for the usual reasons, either. 

Suddenly, there seem to be rumours and gossip everywhere about how it was - and why it was - that almost the entire younger generation of the Black family had turned upon the Dark Lord and successfully brought him down, despite belonging to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families most notorious for supporting the Dark Arts and everything Voldemort had stood for. 

Regulus knows that Grimmauld Place has been sent letters full of effusive gratitude from the general wizarding public, meant for him and even Sirius; but he also knows for a fact that multiple letters have been sent to Walburga from other members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Panic-stricken, furious Howlers, which had screamed at her for bringing disgrace on the wizarding nobility, for failing in her duty as a mother by raising not one but two traitors to the Dark Lord. 

It doesn’t sit quite right with Regulus, though, being lauded and praised by the wizarding public. He isn’t entirely convinced that the likes of him and Narcissa should be praised to the rafters for what they did. It was their moral duty to do their utmost to bring Riddle down, really, and the small, unbiased and objective part of his brain can’t help but remind him that it had taken them long enough to turn away from their prejudices and privileges and do the right thing - Narcissa especially. 

Sirius has always been the hero of the family, really, and he’s always been more drawn to the spotlight than Regulus; but although he certainly isn’t averse to seeing his name in the papers, it hadn’t been hard to convince him that the people who most deserved the credit were Lily, Meggie and Remus. 

Lily and Meggie are, of course, Muggleborn witches who have been denigrated and targeted by Riddle, his Death Eaters - and those sympathetic to their cause - for years now. Regulus has learnt from Sirius that, when Lily wasn’t being ridiculed as a ‘Mudblood’ by various Slytherins - including the boy who was once her best friend - she was being taunted as a ‘freak’ by her Muggle sister, and her sister's Muggle fiancee and friends. Not fully accepted in either world; she literally couldn’t win, it seems. And as for Meggie…well, he and Fabian certainly know now how much she’s been through. Remus’s suffering is hardly a secret amongst them either, of course; Regulus can scarcely think of anybody else who has been through so much pain and discrimination, and deserved it so little. 

So, all in all, it hadn’t taken long for the others to come to the conclusion that, given they would inevitably have to tell the Ministry some version of the story, the best thing would be to tell it in a way that placed those three at the front and centre. They had given interviews to the Prophet explaining that Meggie was the one who had found the legendary lost diadem of Ravenclaw, and destroyed it upon realising that Lord Voldemort had turned it into a Horcrux; Meggie had pointed out that the diadem’s destruction had been a joint effort, but Fabian, refusing to diminish her accomplishment, had insisted that he’d only ‘helped a little.’ 

The story of Remus destroying Riddle’s diary had already appeared in the Prophet months ago, of course, but at that time, the news had been quickly overshadowed by the article outing him as a werewolf. But it seems that the Ministry and the Prophet are in a rather more forgiving mood regarding his lycanthropy, now that they know the diary Remus had destroyed had in fact been another Horcrux created by Voldemort. 

The general public had seemed utterly horrified upon finding out that Voldemort had created not one but two Horcruxes; the group who’d been at the Riddle House that night had decided there wasn’t much point in mentioning that actually, he’d made a total of six. All the Ministry and the Prophet really needed to know was that Remus and Meggie had destroyed Voldemort’s Horcruxes and the Black siblings had turned on him and lured him into a trap, which had left him to fall at the hands of a woman called Lily Potter - nee Evans, an ordinary Muggle name for an extraordinary Muggle-born witch. 

The strange prophecy about the Potters’ son had never become public knowledge, of course - most wizards and witches in Britain have never heard the name ‘Harry Potter’. But they’ll certainly have read about Lily Potter by now. Within three days, Lily has become one of the most famous witches in magical Britain; the saviour of the wizarding world, the small, unassuming, Muggle-born witch who had dealt the fatal blow to the darkest wizard of the last century. 

The articles printed in The Prophet are riddled with contradictions and holes, of course - but then, nobody had expected anything else, especially when Rita Skeeter was doing much of the writing. They hadn’t told the Ministry the whole story, so Regulus supposes it makes sense the Prophet would rely on wild rumours and speculation to try and fill in the gaps, as usual. 

So, here they are, in this cosy, crowded living room, the heroes of the war; Meggie Brown, Remus Lupin and Lily Potter. For his part, Regulus isn’t sure Remus is going to be especially comfortable with his newfound fame, though he imagines it will make a welcome change from being perpetually shunned and marginalised, at least. In the case of Lily and Meggie, though, something tells him they won’t be so inclined to shy away from the attention - but then, he muses, they’ve earned the right to enjoy their time in the sun. They’ve both been forced to hide in the shadows for far too long. 

“Not all of the articles are about us, I’ll have you know,” Lily says primly now to Sirius. “There’s one here about Peter’s trial date being set” - James, Remus and Sirius all stiffen slightly at that, but none of them make any comment, seeming to make a silent, unanimous decision to pretend it’s just a piece of news like any other - “and an announcement that McGonagall has officially succeeded Dumbledore as the Head of Hogwarts.”  

“Yes, Minnie!” Sirius, James and Fabian crow in gleeful unison; Lily and Remus both roll their eyes, though neither manage to hide their affectionate grins. 

“And apparently Crouch is stepping down as Head of Magical Law Enforcement,” Lily continues, turning a page. 

“Crouch is stepping down?” Arthur Weasley echoes, finally looking up from James’s book of knitting patterns, frowning slightly as he looks at Lily. “That doesn’t sound like him at all, why’s he done that?” 

“Well, a group of Death Eaters was apprehended trying to flee the country yesterday, what with the news about Riddle - and apparently, one of them turned out to be Crouch’s own son.” 

“His son?” Fabian, Molly and Arthur echo, all looking stunned and horrified. 

Regulus squirms slightly; this isn’t actually news to him. In his defence, he had mentioned it to Dumbledore; Dumbledore just hadn’t ever considered Barty Crouch Junior amongst his highest priorities, apparently. 

“I don’t see why that’s so shocking, really,” Remus comments. “We were at school with Crouch’s son, he was in Reg’s year. He had daddy issues almost as bad as Sirius’s.”

“Hey!” Sirius complains indignantly, lifting his head from his boyfriend’s shoulder and pulling back a little; Remus just raises an eyebrow at him silently. “...Yeah, okay, that’s fair,” Sirius concedes, settling his chin on Remus’s shoulder again. “The Crouch kid was definitely more than a little unhinged; and that says a lot coming from me.” 

Regulus hums in agreement. 

“He was pretty good in bed, though,” he murmurs quietly - though apparently not quietly enough, given the way Remus, Sirius, Fabian and James all whip around to stare at him with expressions of mingled shock and horror.

“What?!” 

“ Anyway,” Lily interjects pointedly, “Crouch has resigned his position in disgrace, apparently. Good riddance, really, given he authorised Ministry use of Unforgivables against suspects; he was getting almost as bad as a Death Eater himself.” 

“Do you think his replacement might actually consider removing the Dementors from Azkaban?” James asks quietly, his hazel eyes uncharacteristically haunted behind his glasses as he looks at his wife. 

“I don’t know,” Lily murmurs, something flickering in her own emerald eyes. “I hope so.” 

Briefly, the couple share a look of silent, mournful understanding, and Regulus is sure each of them is acknowledging and grieving the loss of a friend who had once meant the world to them, but had decided to betray them anyway. Instinctively, it seems, James squeezes the Weasleys’ two-year-old daughter, Ginny, more tightly to his chest; the toddler squirms sleepily. He had volunteered to take her from Fabian’s arms when the twins had started climbing on him, and he hasn’t put the little girl down for a moment since. Regulus is starting to suspect her parents might struggle to get her back, at this point. 

“Oh, shit,” Lily suddenly blurts out, as she turns a page in her newspaper.

A moment later, she claps her hand over her own mouth, guiltily looking at the children all over the living room; Molly casts her a reproving look from the kitchen. Remus and Sirius, both reading over her shoulder now, freeze, staring down at the Prophet with wide eyes. 

“What?” Regulus, Fabian and James ask in unison, frowning at them. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, Regulus,” Lily tells him awkwardly. The two of them never have quite figured out how to speak to each other. 

“Sorry about what?” he asks, still frowning in bewilderment. 

Both Lily and Remus open their mouths to reply, but Sirius gets there first. 

“It’s Father,” he says quietly, an unreadable expression on his face as he stares down at the paper. “Father’s dead. They’ve printed his obituary.” 

An uncomfortable silence falls across the living room for a moment. Even the children seem uneasy. 

“Yes,” Regulus replies, with a small sigh. “Yes, I know he’s dead.” 

Now everybody is staring at him. 

“I - what?” Sirius asks blankly. “You know?” 

“Yeah,” Regulus replies. “Mother told me yesterday, when I went back to Grimmauld to fetch your birthday present. It wasn’t exactly a huge shock; Father has been slowly dying for years, Sirius.” 

“Right,” Sirius replies slowly, with a small exhale, clearly still trying to process this. “And when exactly were you planning on telling me this?” 

Regulus shrugs, fidgeting a little. 

“Well…I was going to wait until after your birthday, ideally. Thought it might bring the mood down a little, discussing our parents. I forgot the Prophet would be printing his obituary; that was stupid of me.” 

“Right,” Sirius says again, chewing on his lower lip as he stares at him. He doesn’t look angry, Regulus is relieved to note. If anything, he looks…worried. “So….what, you just went to our parents’ house to get my present, Mother greeted you with the news that Father is dead, and then you left?” 

Without meaning to, Regulus lets out a hollow laugh. 

“Not exactly, no. She’d seen the papers, obviously; she didn’t know the whole story, of course, but she had gathered that you and I worked together to lure Riddle into a trap. Already received quite a few Howlers, apparently; though presumably she wouldn’t have been in the best of moods anyway, given her husband has just died. Yesterday was the first time I went back to Grimmauld in over a year - I was staying with Fabian over the summer holidays,” he clarifies, when Sirius tilts his head inquisitively. “Kreacher was pleased to see me, I think” - he can’t help but smile a little at the memory of the wizened old elf hurtling forwards to embrace him, practically the moment he’d crossed the threshold of the house - “but, as you might imagine, Mother was…somewhat less thrilled. She tried to ban him from speaking to me, actually; didn’t really work, because I told him he could chat to me as much as he liked. He was nearly tearing his ear hairs out with anxiety by the time I left.” 

“Not really asking about Kreacher here, Reg,” Sirius says through gritted teeth.

“Right,” he says hastily; he’d almost forgotten that his brother’s hatred for Grimmauld Place stretched to include the old house elf, too. “Anyway, Mother immediately told me how heartbreaking it was that I’d turned out to be a blood traitor in the end, just like you, after all their high hopes and everything they had given me since you ran away; she seemed a bit miffed that I’d wasted all that potential. That’s when she informed me that Father was dead. Actually, she told me that I had killed him, that he’d literally died of shame when he read about what we’d done in the Prophet. ” 

Remus, Lily, James and Fabian all inhale a sharp breath through their teeth at this. Sirius’s face darkens, his jaw tightening; but Regulus can tell that, unlike the others, he isn’t the least bit surprised. 

“So…nothing to do with the degenerative illness that he’d been slowly wasting away from since before I even left, then?” he asks sardonically. “He died of embarrassment? Merlin, that’s a bit of a pathetic way to go, isn’t it?” 

“Well, I imagine the degenerative illness was probably a contributing factor,” Regulus answers, “but I suppose it’s feasible that the shock of discovering he’d raised two blood traitors might have been the final straw for his heart before it gave out.” 

He winces a little, even as he tries to maintain his flippant tone. The rational part of his brain knows that he has nothing to feel guilty about. But that’s the thing about Walburga Black; once she gets her claws into the softest, most vulnerable parts of you, it can be pretty difficult to dislodge them, to get her voice out of your head. 

“So then she told you to get out?” Sirius asks, staring at him. Fabian squeezes his hand silently, looking at him with wide, anxious eyes. 

“Nope,” he replies, heaving a sigh. “As a matter of fact, she told me to move back in.” 

“She… what?” 

“Yep,” says Regulus grimly. “Apparently, after all the shame I’ve put the family through, after my traitorous actions caused Father to literally die of humiliation, I owe it to her to move back into Grimmauld permanently and dedicate my life to looking after her. She told me that she’s too fragile and heartbroken after the death of her husband and the traitorous spite of both her sons to look after herself, all alone in that big empty house - Kreacher doesn’t count as company, it seems. And she made sure to remind me that, if I didn’t stay to take care of her, then I would have both my parents’ deaths on my conscience.”

Sirius, Remus and Fabian all open their mouths furiously, but - 

“I hope you told her to go to hell,” Narcissa pipes up. 

“I…what?” Regulus asks, staring at his favourite cousin. 

“I said I hope you told her to go to hell,” she repeats, her tone perfectly calm and cool. “Yes, it’s very sad that Uncle Orion is dead, I’m sure - though, as you said, it was hardly unexpected. And it’s a shame that Aunt Walburga will have to adjust to being a widow without any company except for her house elf; assuming Kreacher doesn’t run off to live with you, of course, given you’ve always treated him a thousand times better than she has. But as I recall, Walburga didn’t have a great deal of sympathy to offer me when I lost my husband, and she had even less compassion for Andromeda when she lost hers. I suppose ‘Dromeda and I were both more fortunate than her, in the sense that neither of us lost our children as well as our husbands. Which is partially because Draco and Dora are too young to live independently, of course; but I think we can also safely assume that we’re not raising our children in a way that gives them lifelong emotional damage and makes them desperate to get away from us as soon as possible.” As if to prove her point, Andromeda’s daughter, listening intently from the kitchen, moves a little closer to her mother, resting her head on her shoulder; Andromeda instantly puts an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss against her bright pink, flour-coated hair. Little Draco shuffles slightly on the floor, so that he’s sitting directly between Regulus and Narcissa; the latter smiles down at him with that soft expression that seems to be reserved solely for him. She reaches down, gently stroking her son’s pale blond hair as she continues speaking to Regulus. 

“If my dear aunt hadn’t raised both her sons as lightning rods for her own bitter insecurities and bigotry - with her husband’s help, of course - then perhaps the two of you would never have turned away from them in the first place. Perhaps she wouldn’t be reduced to the same old tactic of vindictive emotional blackmail in a pathetic attempt to get her own son to stay with her. The same goes for our parents, of course,” Narcissa adds, gesturing to Andromeda. “The way our family splintered apart - ‘Dromeda running away from home, Sirius running a few short years later, both of them blasted off the stupid Toujours Purs family tree, rather than any attempt to actually reconcile, or god forbid, an apology from even one parent. You and Sirius are both so traumatised and emotionally stunted that you’ve literally only just learnt how to hug each other” - Regulus exchanges an uncomfortable look with his older brother, both grimacing because that might be accurate, but she doesn’t have to point it out - “and as for Andromeda and I, we’re even worse, because we’re still learning. We literally look at you two idiots and hope that we can reach that point, pathetic as it sounds. All four of us were taught that showing affection is a sign of weakness. If these two” - she gestures to Draco and Dora again - “have a childhood that is absolutely nothing like the childhood that we suffered through, then I’m pretty sure my sister and I will know that we’ve done something right.” 

Regulus stares at her, lost for words for a moment. 

“So basically,” Narcissa concludes smoothly, “if Walburga spends the next fifteen, twenty years - however long it takes for that spiteful ‘heart’ of hers to give out - all alone in that old house, with no contact from either of her sons, then she’ll have absolutely nobody to blame but herself. That’s why I hope you told her to go to hell. Because, contrary to what your mother might tell you, you owe her literally nothing, Regulus.” 

Sirius, Andromeda and Fabian are all staring at her as though they’ve never actually seen her until this moment. 

“Bloody hell, Cissy,” Sirius breathes, his eyes wide, a delighted grin spreading across his face, “when did you get so smart?” 

“I’ve always been ‘smart,’ Sirius,” she answers, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow at him. “You were just too stupid to notice it most of the time.” 

“That’s… probably fair, yeah,” he concedes. Regulus feels his lips twitching into a tiny grin, despite himself. 

“So?” Fabian asks quietly, nudging his shoulder gently, looking at him with those beautiful, earnest blue eyes. “ Did you tell her to go to hell?” 

“Well…sort of, I suppose,” he replies, with a small shrug. “After she told me that I owed it to her, after humiliating Father to death, to move back to Grimmauld Place, she finally went quiet, just glaring at me. I asked her if she was waiting for me to answer; she said ‘obviously.’ So I went upstairs to my old room to fetch Sirius’s present; then I went back downstairs and told her that, as it was about to be Sirius’s birthday, I’d come to collect his present, because I was fully intending to celebrate with him. I told her that was my answer.  I also explained that I wasn’t going to tell her where I was living, because I don’t particularly want to receive any letters from her, and I said goodbye, because I don’t expect to be seeing her any time soon. Then I said ‘my condolences for your loss, Mother’...and I left.” 

Fabian lets out a soft, awestruck laugh.

“ Merlin, I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into his curls. 

“Love you too,” Regulus responds immediately, warmth swelling in his chest as he leans his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder; Fabian immediately rests his chin on the top of his head. 

Sirius is staring at him, his expression suffused with pride, as well as…something else, something he can’t quite read. 

“You realise the bitch will have disowned you too?” he says quietly. “Blasted your name off the tapestry, just like she did with me? She’s probably scratching you out of her will, even as we speak.” 

Regulus shrugs slightly, without lifting his head from Fabian’s shoulder. 

“The thought had occurred to me, yes,” he answers. “Why do you think I decided to give you a birthday present that wouldn’t actually cost me any Galleons?” 

Sirius grins reluctantly at that. 

“Touche.” 

“Anyway,” Regulus continues, “Mother is welcome to disinherit me, if she likes - but then, who else is she going to leave the house and the money to? Bellatrix was the only one left of us who wasn’t a blood traitor - and thanks to you, she can hardly leave anything to Bella now, can she?” 

“No, probably not,” Sirius replies, his grin widening; he hesitates for a moment, glancing awkwardly over at Narcissa and Andromeda. “Sorry about killing your sister, by the way. Well, no, I’m not actually sorry, but…y’know what I mean. Sorry if it made you sad.” 

They both shrug; Regulus thinks he sees a momentary flicker of grief in Narcissa’s eyes, but the moment he blinks, her expression is cool and neutral again. 

“Some people bring their fates on themselves,” she replies. “Your mother, as I said, is one of them. Bellatrix was another.”

Sirius grins again at that, before turning back to Regulus, his expression fading into something more like concern. 

“You gonna be okay, Reggie?” he asks quietly. “You know you’re always welcome to hang out with me and Moony at our place, right?” 

Remus nods in agreement, looking just as concerned as he gazes at Regulus.

“Thanks,” Regulus replies, more touched by this than he would ever be willing to admit. “Not sure that continuously third-wheeling you two idiots is that appealing a prospect, though. I’ve still got lodgings at Hogwarts through most of the year, remember? That is, assuming McGonagall is still prepared to tolerate me. And I think I still have a room at Fabian’s place over the summer, if he’s not sick of me yet.” 

“Don’t be thick,” Fabian replies, shaking his head even as he grins down at him, “ obviously you’ll still stay with me. Although actually, it might not be in the same cottage I’m in now.” 

“What?” Regulus asks, leaning back to stare at him. “Why not?” 

“Well, given I spend most of my life hovering around Hogsmeade so I can visit you in the castle,” Fabian says with a shrug, suddenly looking uncharacteristically nervous, “I figured I might sell the place that Gid and I were sharing. Probably be good for me to have…a fresh start, right?” His smile is tinged with a hint of that old grief; and yet, he looks genuinely hopeful about the future. “So I thought I might put an offer on a little cottage in Hogsmeade, with room for the two of us. You could even sleep there instead of inside the castle during term time - if you wanted, that is. You know, so you can be a bit safer from whatever giant monster decides to roam around Hogwarts next.” 

“That…sounds pretty perfect, actually,” Regulus admits. He’s sorely tempted to snog his boyfriend senseless, in fact, although the rational part of his brain reminds him that it’s probably better to wait until his older sister isn’t present, and his five-year-old nephews aren’t climbing all over him. “Except you probably won’t be needed for guard duty around Hogwarts anymore, right?” 

“I’m sure Minnie would be happy for me to put in an hour or two here and there,” Fabian answers, shrugging slightly. 

“Probably,” Regulus replies, frowning a little, “but…how are you going to entertain yourself the rest of the time?” 

“Well, funny you should ask,” says Fabian, grinning back at him. “I’ve been thinking, recently…you know how the joke shop in Hogsmeade closed down a few years back?” 

“Yes,” James, Sirius and Remus reply simultaneously, each of them sounding thoroughly regretful. Regulus blinks.

“Um…if you say so?” 

“I do,” says Fabian, grinning a little at his obliviousness. “Apparently, the bloke who owned the shop closed up and ran, because he thought the Death Eaters had him and his family in their sights. I remember Gid and I talking about what a shame it was, when we heard that news. Then, of course, things got really intense for a couple of years, and I got pretty busy - grieving, fighting, losing myself, finding myself again, falling in love, and so on - so I sort of put the whole joke shop idea on the back burner. But it did make me sad, seeing it lying derelict and abandoned every time I walked past it in Hogsmeade. So I figure, now we’ve got the more pressing matter of saving the wizarding world out of the way…now is as good a time as any to get it up and running again, right?” 

James and Sirius exchange a look of excited glee - for a moment, they look like their teenage selves again, the boys who had once hero-worshipped the Prewett twins. 

“Really, Fabian?” Molly huffs, walking over from the kitchen with her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed as she glares at her younger brother. “You want to spend your precious time and money on re-opening a joke shop? With all your brains and talent -” 

“Gid and I spoke about doing it together, Molly,” he tells her quietly, calmly. That stops her in her tracks. “I’m gonna move out of the flat we shared - finally - because I know…I know I need to put him down. I need to give myself permission to stop carrying the weight of him everywhere.” 

His sister blinks, her brown eyes suddenly welling with tears. 

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t live our dream,” Fabian continues. “Besides, it’s not just a joke shop. Yeah, we’re not in ‘mortal peril’ anymore” - he nods over to the strange clock on her wall, which tells her how and where her family is, rather than the time - “but I reckon a lot of people will take a while to heal, and they could do with a laugh. They might need some help, finding little pieces of joy to keep them going from day to day. And that seems like a pretty worthwhile way to spend my time and money, to me.” 

Regulus can feel his love and pride seeping through him from head to toe; he’s overflowing with it.

“That’s what your brother does ,” he says, tangling his fingers with Fabian’s, lifting his chin defiantly as he looks at Molly. “He makes people happy. He saves people, even when he’s in pain himself. I should know.” 

She opens and closes her mouth a few times; when she finally manages to get her voice working, it’s hoarse with tears. 

“Perhaps I underestimated you, Regulus,” she says quietly.

“You did,” Sirius and Fabian confirm simultaneously - but both Regulus and Molly ignore them, looking at each other. 

“You really love my brother, don’t you?” she murmurs.

“I do, yes,” he confirms. “Very much.”

Fabian makes a small sound, squeezing his fingers tightly; Regulus can see him biting down on his lower lip to try and stifle his ridiculously bright smile. 

Molly seems to be scanning Regulus’s face closely, looking for any signs of insincerity; then, apparently satisfied, she nods. 

“Good. That’s all I ask.”

“You might also consider asking him to stop these little menaces from strangling me every once in a while,” Fabian remarks. 

One of the twins has climbed onto his back again, cuddling him from behind in a way that could indeed be confused for strangulation.

“Oh, I don’t think I’d go that far,” Regulus answers, smirking. 

His boyfriend huffs and rolls his eyes, though this is somewhat undercut by the fact that he’s still beaming, love and happiness practically radiating off him.

Sirius sniffles slightly against Remus’s shoulder, wiping his eyes with his leather sleeve again, before hastily trying to look calm and unaffected when Remus turns his head to look at him. 

“Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Remus asks suspiciously.

“I don’t!” Sirius objects, despite the fact that he’s still sniffling, his eyes watery and red-rimmed. 

“Mhm. You’re a very convincing liar, Pads, has anyone ever told you that?” his boyfriend replies dryly. 

“Don’t bully me, Moony!” Sirius exclaims. “I am a good liar, actually, I’ll have you know. Riddle believed me, anyway.” 

“True,” Remus answers, his lips twitching. “But I know you pretty well, you see - and fortunately, I’m also not as lamentably stupid as Riddle was.” 

Regulus snorts a little at that. 

Remus twists around properly, taking Sirius’s face in his hands and frowning a little now as he scans his face. 

“You’re not actually upset about your dad dying, presumably?” he checks. 

Sirius, predictably, scoffs as though he’s offended by the very idea.

“Obviously not.” 

Regulus suspects it might actually be a bit more complicated than that. Sirius certainly won’t grieve Orion as a son who has lost a loving father, because the man was never that, to either of them; but the news of his death is likely still a shock that will take him a while to process. Nevertheless, he wisely decides not to comment. 

“Oh… is this just you being a soppy, sentimental git about your little brother, then?” Remus asks. Sirius doesn’t reply, but his indignant little huff is apparently answer enough for Remus, who grins at him with a smug, yet hopelessly fond look on his face. “You’re just proud of Reg, aren’t you?” Sirius huffs again. “Actually, come to think of it, you two both looked like an absolute wreck when you came in,” Remus continues, turning to smirk at Regulus now. “Merlin, Reg, what did you do to the poor bastard?” 

“Nothing,” he replies, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. 

“Maybe Sirius is just upset because he’s so clearly been replaced as Harry’s favourite?” Fabian interjects, apparently taking pity on him. 

“What?” Sirius asks, frowning at him, apparently confused by the change of subject. 

“Well, obviously he’s not Harry’s favourite anymore,” says Remus matter-of-factly, ignoring the indignant noise his boyfriend emits. “ I am. I’m the one who’s been living with the kid and reading to him every night for months.”

“Actually,” Fabian answers, smirking slightly himself now, “I think you might find that you’ve both been replaced, Remus. See?” 

He points over towards the staircase; Regulus turns to see that Sirius’s three-year-old godson, Harry, is making his way down the last few steps, hand in hand with Fabian’s youngest nephew, Ron, who has a Chudley Cannons picture book clutched in his other hand. They’re chattering to each other so animatedly that they barely seem to notice anyone else’s presence. 

As the adults watch, the two boys plonk themselves down unceremoniously on the carpet near the fireplace, directly in front of an armchair in which yet another of Molly and Arthur’s red-headed sons is sitting; this one is wearing horn-rimmed glasses, looks no more than seven or eight, and is ignoring everyone around him, deep in his own book. Or at least, he was ignoring everyone, until little Ron excitedly opens his Chudley Cannons picture book to show it to Harry, whacking his older brother on the shin with the hard corner. 

The bespectacled seven-year-old makes an irritable huffing sound, scowling down at his younger brother - Regulus can’t help but be reminded, momentarily, of himself - but Ron completely ignores his brother’s annoyance. He and Harry lean closer to each other, poring over the picture book, neither letting go of the other’s hand for a second. 

“Ah, yes,” says Arthur, smiling slightly as he looks up from James’s knitting book again. “Yes, those boys have been inseparable for the past…three days, really. Ever since you dropped Harry off here.” 

“No offence,” Fabian pipes up, grinning at James, “but it looks like you didn’t need to cry about your son missing you while you were gone, after all. Not sure he’s even noticed you’re back.” 

“Oh, Merlin,” Lily comments as she glances up from the Prophet , looking over at Harry and Ron. “It’s like watching you two all over again.” She gestures between James and Sirius, her emerald eyes bright with amusement and affection that belies her tone. “See?” she adds, pointing. “That’s uncanny.” 

Regulus hadn’t even realised until this moment that James Potter is, in fact, using his free hand that isn’t busy holding Ginny Weasley to hold Sirius’s hand, almost absentmindedly, even as he continues poring over his book of knitting patterns with Arthur. 

“That is sort of spooky, actually,” Regulus agrees. 

“ Isn’t it?” says Lily, turning to him with an almost conspiratorial grin. “D’you know, I bought him that stupid book of Muggle knitting patterns, just because he wouldn’t shut up about how much he was missing Sirius? It was annoying me.” 

Remus snorts; Regulus raises an eyebrow, amused despite himself. 

“And did the book shut him up?” 

“Well, he did at least start talking my ear off about knitting patterns and missing Sirius,” Lily replies, rolling her eyes, although she can’t hide her affectionate grin as she looks back at James. “Bit of variety is better than nothing, I suppose. Bear in mind, Remus here was in hiding with us for months, too; but I swear he didn’t harp on about missing Sirius half as much as James did.” 

“You didn’t miss me, Moony?” Sirius asks indignantly, propping his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder and looking up at him with wide, wounded eyes, even as he keeps his hand intertwined with James’s. 

“Obviously I missed you, Sirius,” Remus sighs in response, his hazel eyes bright with affection despite his deadpan tone. “I’m in love with you, and I have been since we were fourteen.” Sirius does a ridiculous little squirm of happiness at that; Regulus makes a mental note to mock him about it later. “But you and James are obsessed with each other,” Remus continues dryly, “and neither of you have established anything even remotely approaching healthy boundaries with each other since you were eleven. That’s the difference.” 

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Lily agrees solemnly. 

Little Harry suddenly looks up from Ron’s picture book, frowning slightly. A moment later, the kid is clambering purposefully to his feet; he doesn’t let go of Fabian’s nephew, though, tugging on the other boy’s hand insistently. Ron doesn’t seem particularly eager to be taken away from the Chudley Cannons, letting out a little indignant huff and hastily grabbing his picture book so it doesn’t get left behind. 

“ Ha!” Sirius exclaims triumphantly. “You were wrong, Fab - Harry hasn’t forgotten about me, see? He’s coming over to hang out with me right now!” 

“Think he’s coming over to see me , actually, Pads,” Remus contradicts him. 

Regulus rolls his eyes, not bothering to point out that the two of them are sitting so tangled up in each other on the arm of Lily’s chair that they barely even count as two separate people. It does look like Harry and his more reluctant tagalong are heading in their general direction, though; at least, until Harry pulls Ron to a stop right in front of where Regulus is sitting. 

He blinks. One small child taking a shine to him is unprecedented enough, but two…? 

“You want come wead with us?” asks the kid, with a slight lisp, holding out his free hand with a friendly smile and an open, earnest expression on his face, which makes him look even more like the spitting image of his father. 

It’s only then that Regulus realises Harry is speaking not to him, but to Narcissa’s son, who’s still sitting on the carpet next to his feet. 

“Me and Won are weading about Chuddy Cannons,” Harry continues brightly, practically beaming at Draco as he takes the open book from Ron’s slackened grasp. 

Ron is decidedly not beaming; the scowl on his little freckled face is very pronounced as he looks at Draco. Regulus notices the possessive way the kid clutches Harry’s hand more tightly, tugging on him a little. He exchanges an amused look with Remus, both of them apparently reminded of a certain someone. 

“The Chuddy Cannons have vewy cool bwoomsticks,” Harry goes on, apparently undeterred by the lack of a response from Narcissa’s son, not seeming even to notice Ron’s annoyance. “Almost as cool as the bwoomstick that Padfoot got me for my birfday!” 

“Oh, sure, now he remembers I exist,” Sirius mutters to himself irritably. 

Remus rolls his eyes, even as he strokes the other man’s hair soothingly, trying and failing not to look hopelessly fond. 

Little Draco does not seem receptive to Harry’s friendly advance; on the contrary, he shuffles slightly closer to Regulus and fixes Harry with a haughty, disdainful stare which makes him resemble his mother even more. It’s quite impressively withering for a three-year-old, Regulus muses. 

“Oh dear,” Arthur Weasley murmurs, looking at the three little boys fondly. “Still not making much progress, from the looks of it.” 

“Still?” Remus echoes curiously.

“Harry has been trying to include Draco for three days now,” Arthur clarifies, smiling, “since they came over with Andromeda’s daughter, basically. Draco hasn’t shown much inclination to accept any of his invitations, though - and our Ron has had to share almost everything with his brothers his whole life. He’s clearly not very keen to share Harry too, which probably doesn’t help matters. I have to say, though, Harry seems admirably determined not to give up.” 

“Yes, I wonder where he could possibly have got that from?” Lily says dryly, shooting a meaningful look at her husband. 

Privately, Regulus muses that this dig carries a bit less weight, considering how long Lily herself had tried to stay loyal to Snape before finally conceding he was too far gone to save. The way he sees it, any child of James and Lily wouldn’t have much hope of avoiding a hero complex.

“My daddy is weally good at flying on his bwoomstick,” Harry continues, still happily chatting away to Draco despite getting nothing in return. “I’m not allowed on his bwoom, but he says one day I will be, and then I will fly even more goodly!” Draco just stares back at him, stone-faced. “Does your daddy like to fly on his bwoomstick, too?” 

Narcissa noticeably stiffens in her armchair, and Draco raises an eyebrow, his gaze growing somehow even more cold and haughty as the adults around him fidget nervously. Uh oh, Regulus thinks. 

“I think that’s enough for now, Harry,” Lily intervenes hastily, putting her paper down and walking over to her son, kneeling down so her face is on the same level as his. He blinks, looking momentarily confused by his mother’s sudden appearance. “I love that you’re trying to be friendly, but leave Draco alone for now, sweetheart, yeah? He doesn’t want to play at the moment. He just wants to stay with Regulus.” 

“But he might get lonely, Mama,” Harry informs her solemnly, with big, anxious green eyes. He’s still holding out his free hand patiently, despite the fact that Draco is very clearly not planning to take it. 

It’s only in that moment that Regulus fully appreciates how much of an impact it must have had on the kid, growing up without ever interacting with anyone remotely close to his own age. True, he’s been lucky enough to live with parents who love him fiercely; but they’ve been on edge for over two years, constantly terrified that they might not be able to keep him safe. 

Lily is apparently thinking along the same lines, given the way her mouth trembles as she looks at her son, her own bright green eyes suddenly watery. 

“He might, yes,” she tells him, her voice just as solemn as his. “But I promise you, he’ll come and play with you when he feels like it, alright? Sometimes people are shy, or just a bit different to you, and that’s alright. I know you’re just trying to be kind - but make sure you don’t make him feel pressured, okay?” 

“Okay,” Harry answers finally, heaving a large, dramatic sigh - clear evidence that he’s spent too much time with Sirius. 

“Merlin,” James pipes up, finally looking away from his knitting patterns, beaming down at his small son, pride and adoration written across every inch of his face. “You were right, Lils. As always. He really is gonna be the best big brother in the world, isn’t he?” 

The whole room goes completely silent, every single person staring at him; Lily is glaring rather pointedly. It seems to take James a moment to realise what he’d just said; the rapid transition from beaming adoration to complete panic is truly a sight to behold. 

“I be big brother?” Harry asks, staring up at his father along with everyone else, his emerald eyes wide. 

“I…I just meant, hypothetically, you would be the best big brother in the world,” James stammers. “That is, if Mama and I…if Lily was ever…that’s not to say that she is… I just meant…oops.” 

He trails off, looking - rather appropriately, Regulus muses - like a deer caught in wand-light as he looks over at his wife, hazel eyes wide and apologetic behind his glasses. He runs a hand anxiously through his already chaotic hair, leaving it sticking up, almost like antlers. 

For a moment, there’s nothing but ringing silence all around the spacious living room. 

“So?” Andromeda says finally, looking at Lily with an expression somewhere between stunned and amused. “How far along are you, then? You’re hardly showing at all.” 

Lily lets out a sigh, finally looking away from her husband and dropping her glare. 

“Coming up on three months now,” she admits. “We were planning to announce it soon, anyway - but we had agreed to keep it secret a little while longer.” She narrows her vivid green eyes at James again; he winces sheepishly and ducks his head. “We certainly weren’t intending to steal the spotlight from Sirius on his birthday.” 

“Godric, screw my birthday!” Sirius bursts out; then, without warning, he flings himself at Lily, who only just manages to catch him in time before he knocks her over, along with her toddler and her unborn child. 

“Merlin, Sirius, calm down !” Lily exclaims as she hugs him back, sounding both exasperated and hopelessly fond of him as he starts crying loudly and unashamedly into her shoulder. “Honestly, you’re worse than James was!” 

“I told you he would be,” James pipes up thickly. 

Glancing at him, Regulus sees that he’s pulled off his glasses, rubbing frantically at his own eyes; predictably, it seems that his best friend’s waterworks have set him off, too. 

“I can’t believe you two bastards didn’t tell me!” Sirius complains, still sobbing into Lily’s shoulder. 

“Lils said we weren’t allowed to tell anyone yet, Pads!” James says defensively. 

“But I’m not just anyone!” Sirius replies, somehow managing to let out an indignant huff in the midst of crying. “Merlin, a baby! You two are really having…Moony, Moony, they’re having another baby!” 

“Yeah,” says Remus, sounding perfectly calm, his lips twitching slightly. “Yeah, I already knew that, actually.” 

“You…what?” Sirius asks slowly, finally looking up from Lily’s shoulder. “ What did you just say?”

“I said I already knew about this,” Remus repeats, with the most self-satisfied expression Regulus has ever seen on his face. 

Sirius, on the other hand, looks completely outraged, pulling away from Lily completely now and glaring between his boyfriend and his best friend. 

“You knew? Moony knew? You told Moony, but you didn’t tell me, Prongs?!” 

“What? No!” James protests; he couldn’t have sounded more panicked if it had been Lily accusing him of cheating. “I didn’t tell him anything, Pads, I swear!” He turns to his wife, flinching preemptively, actually raising his hands in surrender. “I didn’t, Lils!” 

“It’s true, he didn’t,” Remus reassures her, apparently taking pity on James.

“But then,” Lily asks, frowning at him, “how did you…?”

“Oh, how did I know?” the scarred man finishes her question for her, his tone mild despite his steadily growing smirk. “Well, I’ve known you both since we were eleven, we’ve all been living in each other’s pockets over the past few months, and I’m observant. For one thing, you used to have a shot of Firewhiskey with me and Prongs for courage while we listened to the news on the wireless, almost every night after Harry had been put to bed. You thought I wouldn’t notice that you’d suddenly switched to Butterbeer or juice, Lils, even though you spent half of seventh year drinking us all under the table. For another thing, Prongs has been even more weepy than usual this past month or so, basically every time he’s looked at Harry - and look at him now,” he adds, gesturing to James. “He hasn’t put Ginny down, or stopped cuddling her, for about two hours now; he’s practising having a little one again. Obviously. And for another thing,” he concludes, tone practically dripping with smugness now, “I was right there when Prongs tried and failed to stop you from coming with us, Lils, when we were going to confront Riddle.” 

“Wait…that last bit doesn’t prove anything,” Fabian pipes up, his brow furrowed. “It makes perfect sense that he would have tried to stop her from going - it was bloody dangerous. Reg tried to stop me from going, too” - he shoots a brief, sheepish glance in Regulus’s direction - “and Sirius tried to stop you, remember?” 

“All perfectly true,” Remus replies, with a bright spark of mischief in his hazel eyes. “Except that the exact words Prongs used were ‘you know it’s too dangerous for you, Lily, especially when you’re -’ Then he gestured towards her stomach frantically until she shot him quite a terrifying warning look. At which, he looked over at me - apparently remembering only at that moment that I was still in the room - and finished his sentence with ‘especially when you’re…little.’ ” 

Regulus snorts a little - he can’t imagine that had gone down very well. Remus grins over at him, clearly sharing his amusement. 

“So, in conclusion,” says Remus, smirking over at James and Lily again, “I’m very, very happy for you - but you two aren’t quite as smooth as you think you are.”  

They both open their mouths to protest - but then they quickly close them again, looking at each other. James’s sheepish expression is thoroughly familiar by this point; Lily’s, not so much. 

“But anyway, now that I don’t have to pretend to be clueless anymore,” Remus continues smoothly, prodding his boyfriend in the back, “can you move, please, Pads? I would also like a chance to congratulate them properly, if you don’t mind.” 

Sirius obeys quickly, as only Remus can get him to, still staring at him with an expression of awe. Remus walks past him, enveloping Lily in his lanky arms. 

“I’m so happy for you, Lils,” he murmurs to her.

“How the hell did you manage to keep that so quiet?” she responds, wrapping her arms around him in turn. 

“You know me,” he answers, with a grin and a small shrug. “I’ve always been the quiet one.” 

“Move over, Lupin,” Fabian pipes up, grinning at him. “Can’t you see there’s a queue?” 

He isn’t exaggerating; almost every adult in the room, as far as Regulus can see, appears to be standing up to make their way over to the Potters. Even Narcissa has gracefully got up from her armchair. 

Remus rolls his eyes a little, but he obeys, grinning back at Fabian and stepping aside from Lily to pull James into a hug instead; or at least, he does his best, given that Sirius is now squeezing him and crying into his shoulder. Meanwhile, the others all make a beeline for Lily. 

“Congratulations,” Regulus tells her awkwardly.

“Thanks,” she replies, smiling at him over Andromeda’s shoulder. 

“Do you two know yet if it will be a boy or a girl?” Andromeda asks her. “Or is it too early?” 

“It would be too early, if we were doing this the Muggle way,” Lily replies, “but I discovered how to brew a pretty handy little potion. Assuming I brewed it right” - “You did,” Remus and James reassure her simultaneously - “then it looks like we’re having a girl this time around.” 

“Little sister?” Harry asks, emerald eyes wide. 

“Yep, looks like it,” Lily answers, beaming down at her son. 

“I think Ron has rather enjoyed having a little sister,” Arthur says, smiling down at him, nodding over to the toddler still in James’s arms. “I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it so that you’re prepared, Harry.” 

“And have you come up with a name?” Molly asks.

“Well, I think there were a few we really liked,” James answers, an utterly adoring expression on his face as he looks over at his wife. “But we haven’t actually decided -”

“I think Meggie is a pretty great name for a girl!” Bill pipes up eagerly. 

“I…thanks, Bill,” Meggie replies, looking confused, amused and flattered all at once. 

“Looks like Bill likes them blonde, opinionated and very headstrong,” Fabian says under his breath, leaning over to whisper in Regulus’s ear and sounding thoroughly entertained. “Noted.”

“He’s not all that smooth, though,” Regulus murmurs back. 

“He’s only twelve, give him time, ” Fabian whispers, with an indignant huff. “Just give him three or four years, I’m sure all the girls at Hogwarts will be falling over themselves to date him - and probably quite a few boys, too.” 

“Wait a minute,” Sirius pipes up; his expression seems suddenly almost accusatory as he stares at James. “Lils is pregnant - and you let her come with us to face Riddle the other day, Prongs? Are you insane?” 

Regulus raises an eyebrow without bothering to raise his head from Fabian’s shoulder; it seems his brother is rather slow on the uptake today. 

“Would you like to run that by me again, Sirius?” Lily asks slowly, her bright green eyes narrowing to slits as she glares at him. “Let me? James shouldn’t have let me?”

“Have you ever tried persuading Lily not to do something when her mind is made up, Pads?” James asks, shrugging at his best friend, with a helpless expression on his face. “Have you met this woman?”

“Oh…right, fair point,” Sirius concedes, running a wary hand through his hair, as Remus snorts and Lily continues glaring at him. 

“I tried to ask her not to come, like Moony said,” James continues, “but…” He shrugs again. “What can I say? Though she be but little, she is fierce.” 

“Did you just…did you just Shakespeare us, Prongs?” Remus asks, blinking at him, looking thoroughly taken aback.

“I read things too sometimes, y’know, Moony!” James replies, sounding more than a little indignant at his friend’s surprise. “We were in hiding for ages , we had to find things to keep us busy!”

“Looks like you and Lils found plenty to keep you busy, besides knitting and reading,” Sirius answers with a smirk. 

Lily narrows her eyes at him again, leaving Regulus to wonder, not for the first time, whether his brother is incredibly brave or just very stupid. 

Remus elbows him.

“Ow!”

“You don’t actually have to say every single thought that pops into your head, you know,” Remus tells him; though he’s clearly trying to bite back his own grin, his eyes bright with mischief. 

Sirius lets out a huff, folding his arms and pouting at his boyfriend. 

“Maybe you should share more of the thoughts that come into your head, huh, Moony? Still can’t believe you didn’t bloody tell me.” 

“For Godric’s sake, Sirius,” Remus answers, rolling his eyes, “it wasn’t mine to tell, was it? They might have been pretty shit at hiding it, but they didn’t want anyone to know until they were ready, obviously.” 

“Whatever. I’m divorcing you,” Sirius announces petulantly, echoing what Remus had said to him back in the Riddle House. 

“You’d have to marry me first,” Remus replies, his lips twitching as he tries and fails to hide the hopelessly fond look on his face. 

“Okay,” Sirius answers, without missing a beat.

A pause. Everyone turns to stare at them. People usually tend to tune out Sirius and Remus’s bickering, as it happens so often; but Sirius certainly seems to have gained everyone’s attention now. 

“I…what?” Remus asks. His smirk has vanished entirely now; he’s staring at his boyfriend with a look of blank shock on his face. “What do you mean, okay ?” 

“I mean okay, I’ll marry you,” Sirius replies, raising an eyebrow at him, as though Remus is being dense. “Sorry, did you not just propose to me?”

It’s extremely rare to see Remus Lupin struck speechless, especially when he’s talking to Sirius. But this certainly seems to be one of those rare moments. 

He continues staring at his boyfriend, hazel eyes wide, mouth opening and closing as though he’s trying to remember how to form words. 

“Of course, if you don’t want to marry me, then we can just forget about it,” Sirius continues. His tone is casual, but his grey eyes are gleaming with mischief; he’s clearly thrilled to have taken Remus so thoroughly off-guard for once. “Sick of me, Moony? Thinking of seeing other people for a bit, were you? Prongs and Fab both seem to be otherwise engaged at the moment, sadly.” 

“Don’t be thick,” Remus says hoarsely, finding his voice again at last. “I…I’d marry you in a heartbeat, Sirius, you know that.” 

“I…yeah,” he answers. His eyes are a little watery now, his expression softer than Regulus has ever seen it as he gazes back at the man he’s been in love with for ten years. “Yeah, me too, Moons. Me too.”

“But…can we even do that?” Remus asks, looking at the various purebloods scattered around the room, everyone who’s spent their lives surrounded by a wizard government and its various laws. “I mean, I know Muggles aren’t allowed, but…are we allowed?” 

“Moony,” Sirius says, grinning a little now, as he moves forwards to take the other man’s face in his hands. “We created the Marauders’ Map. We made it our personal mission to set a record for the number of school rules broken when we were fourteen, and me and Prongs became illegal Animagi to help you when we were fifteen. We joined a renegade group of fighters when we were eighteen and barely out of school, and not three days ago, we helped bring down the most dangerous wizard of all time. Since when have we ever given a single owl’s fart about what we’re allowed to do?” 

“You know,” Remus says breathlessly, his grin so bright that his scars seem barely visible, blinking rapidly to try and fight back tears of his own, “you make a good point, Pads.” 

“I know I do,” Sirius answers, beaming back at him. 

Remus lets out a small, choked laugh; then the two of them are surging forwards simultaneously, clutching at each other, kissing as though they need it to survive.

“Did your brother really just…?” Fabian mutters, sounding stunned as he stares at them.

“I think so?” Regulus replies. 

He watches his brother and his best friend, wrapped around each other. Once, perhaps, he would have wrinkled his nose, told them to get a room, but at this moment he feels truly, sickeningly delighted for both of them. God, what’s happened to him? 

“You two!” James bursts out suddenly; everyone turns to look at him, just as he bursts into noisy tears. A moment later, he passes little Ginny back to her father and dashes forwards, pulling both his best friends into his arms so tightly that their heads bang together. 

“Merlin, Prongs, stop being such a third wheel,” Sirius complains, beaming at him. 

“Yeah, we’ve definitely spoken about this, Prongs,” Remus adds, his voice thick. Neither of them sound annoyed in the slightest.

“Shut up,” James sobs, squeezing them both tighter, kissing first Sirius’s head, then Remus’s. “I love you both so much!” 

“Maybe stop getting your snot on us, then?” Remus suggests.

“No,” James replies stubbornly, still crying, somehow managing to squeeze them even tighter.

As Regulus rolls his eyes, grinning and leaning into Fabian’s side, the flames in the Weasleys’ fireplace suddenly begin to spit and hiss loudly. Everyone pauses, frowning slightly as they turn to see the flames leaping higher, turning from scarlet to emerald green. 

For a split second, Regulus feels his heart plummet; they’re not expecting anyone else, as far as he’s aware. Is it possible that Pettigrew has escaped the Ministry, that he’s returning for revenge…?

But a moment later, a familiar face appears in the emerald flames, a stern face with square spectacles, and Regulus lets himself breathe normally again. Minerva McGonagall. 

“Minnie!” James and Sirius greet her, somehow managing to sound delighted despite the fact that both are still crying.

“Headmistress, actually,” Remus corrects them, still grinning like an idiot. 

“Oh yeah!” says Sirius, sounding even more thrilled at this reminder. 

“Good evening to you all,” McGonagall greets them in a rather more dignified manner, though Regulus doesn’t miss the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth, as though she’s fighting to repress a grin of her own. 

“Evening, Professor,” says Lily, smiling at her old teacher and settling herself cross-legged in front of the fire, attempting to pull Harry gently into her lap as she goes; Ron goes with him, still attached to him by the hand. The two little boys stare at McGonagall, eyes wide and curious. “Lovely to see you. Wait…how did you know you’d find us here at the Weasleys’?” 

“Mr Black - the elder Mr Black, I should specify - wrote to inform me that he would be celebrating his birthday here,” she replies. “He invited me to join you all, in fact.” 

“Oh yeah, I did do that,” Sirius says brightly; Regulus rolls his eyes again. 

“Ah, Miss Brown,” McGonagall continues, her gaze alighting on Meggie, who’s hovering awkwardly, as though wondering whether she should hide from her teacher. “I did think I might find you here.” 

Meggie squirms a little, opening her mouth to respond, but - 

“It’s alright, I shall not be giving you detention,” McGonagall clarifies, sounding much kinder than her usual brisk tone, giving Meggie a small smile - a rare sight. “I can see that Mr Prewett’s support has been truly invaluable to you and helped you to heal. I hope you will allow me to say that you are looking more content than I have seen you in months, and I will not begrudge your missing a few more classes for the sake of your mental health. I can only apologise, on behalf of myself and my fellow staff members, for not seeing how much you needed us. I hope you know that both my door and Filius’s are always open to you, should you need to talk. And the same goes for young Mr Weasley, of course,” she adds, turning to smile at Bill too. 

“I…thank you,” Meggie whispers, looking rather overwhelmed, her green eyes welling with tears. Andromeda, standing beside her, wraps an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her gently; Lily turns slightly so that she can squeeze Meggie’s hand. 

Regulus turns to Fabian; predictably, his boyfriend looks close to tears too, watching Meggie surrounded by love and support. 

“You’re a sap,” he mutters. 

“Shut up, Reg,” Fabian protests, his voice choked.

“It’s alright,” Regulus reassures him in a whisper, twining their fingers together. “That’s why I love you. Well, one of the many reasons.” 

Fabian chokes slightly as he inhales, smiling so broadly that it looks like it hurts, and Regulus laughs quietly. 

“Anyway,” says McGonagall, turning back to Sirius, “many happy returns, Mr Black. Twenty-four today, if my calculations are correct?” 

“Yep - and thanks,” Sirius answers, grinning. He pauses for a moment, as though trying to keep himself under control; but clearly, he fails, because half a second later he blurts out, “Remus and I are getting married, Minnie! Married!!” 

He’s practically vibrating with excitement; if he was in his Animagus form, Regulus is sure his tail would be wagging madly enough to knock over half the things in the Weasleys’ living room, including the small children. 

“Well, we haven’t quite ironed out the details yet,” Remus tells McGonagall, his tone mild despite the huge grin on his face. “But you’re invited, Professor. Obviously.” 

“I see,” says McGonagall, after a brief moment of silence, presumably to process this news. “Well, I cannot pretend I am entirely surprised, having witnessed the bond between the two of you growing steadily since the age of eleven. It is rather unorthodox, perhaps, but then I would expect nothing less from Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. And I must confess, I am rather proud of the two of you for being so willing to publicly declare your love. I daresay it will give hope to many others, too, both younger…and older.”

If Regulus didn’t know better, he might have said that, in this brief moment, McGonagall looks close to tears herself. She clears her throat. 

“It would seem that congratulations are in order, then, for reasons other than just those reported in The Prophet. Am I to take it that this announcement is the reason that Mr Potter is currently crying and refusing to let go of Mr Black’s hand, then?” 

“I can’t help it, Minnie!” James protests, reaching up to lift his glasses with his free hand, scrubbing frantically at his eyes. 

“Well, there’s also the fact that he and Lily are having another baby,” Remus pipes up. “He’s been weepy about that for at least a month now.”

“ Stop it, Moony!” Sirius complains, reaching up to scrub at his eyes, too. “I’ve only just stopped crying, you prick!” 

McGonagall opens her mouth and closes it again. Regulus isn’t imagining it; she definitely looks emotional this time. It seems to take her a moment to find her voice again.

“In that case, congratulations are doubly in order,” she says, her voice somewhat croaky, blinking rather rapidly. “I shall not pretend that I have not been worried about the three of you over the past few years,” she continues, turning to James, Lily and Harry, “ very worried, in fact.” 

“Join the club, Minnie,” Sirius pipes up, grimacing. 

“So I cannot begin to describe how thrilled I am that you are not only thriving, but have a new addition to your family on the way. I am already looking forward to the day when we welcome both Harry and his younger sibling to Hogwarts.” 

“Perhaps you could be persuaded to join us for a toast, then, Minerva?” Arthur Weasley pipes up. 

“I have some paperwork to sort out, unfortunately, Arthur,” she replies, “though I confess I am rather tempted by the offer. However, I am not here just to chat and offer my good wishes.” 

“Oh?” Lily prompts, tilting her head curiously. 

“My main purpose,” McGonagall clarifies, “is to discuss some of the staffing arrangements at Hogwarts, moving forwards.” 

She turns to look at Regulus, who, once again, feels his stomach sink. 

He’s almost certain she knows it was him who’d killed Dumbledore; she’d worked alongside and respected the old man for decades, after all. She would know perfectly well that he would never have given himself an overdose of the Draught of Living Death by accident. 

Is she about to tell him that she doesn’t feel comfortable working with the killer of her longtime colleague, mentor and friend? That would be perfectly reasonable of her, and yet….Well, Regulus doesn’t think he’d realised how much he’d been relying on Hogwarts, how the castle has become a kind of sanctuary for him, until this moment, faced with the fear that the gates might be closed in his face. 

“Professor, I…” he stammers, scarcely even knowing what he’s going to say, “about Dumbledore…” 

“I know you killed him, Regulus,” she says.

He stares at her, rendered speechless. Her tone is perfectly calm. She’s looking at him with something that doesn’t look like anger or revulsion at all - if anything, it looks like compassion. Perhaps even gratitude. 

“But I…how…?” 

“I asked you if I could borrow the Pensieve that he left you, remember?” she asks, with a sad, tired sort of smile. Regulus nods awkwardly. “Well, I used it to look through the memories that he left to me. I will not divulge all the secrets he chose to share with me, of course - but I can tell you that he chose to leave me his memory of asking you to kill him. Asking you to help him, by ending his suffering.” 

“...Oh,” he says quietly. 

She pauses, still considering him with that compassionate look on her face. 

“I cannot imagine that was an easy decision to make,” she says quietly. “Albus asked a lot of you, in the end.” 

He nods, not really knowing how to respond. 

“Despite how it might appear, that was a brave and noble thing you did,” McGonagall continues. “You helped an old man in pain. You put him to rest. Albus was very far from resenting you for that - and so am I. I confess, when he first told me that he’d hired you as Horace Slughorn’s replacement, I was sceptical. I doubted you. But now I see that that was my mistake. You put your own life on the line - multiple times, it would seem - to ensure that Lord Voldemort would be destroyed - and because of that, the entire magical community is in your debt.” 

Regulus fidgets, avoiding her gaze, heat creeping up his face even as he senses Fabian, Sirius and Remus all beaming at him. He shifts his weight awkwardly, having absolutely no clue how to respond to this much praise, and from Minerva McGonagall, of all people. 

“You are an invaluable member of the Hogwarts faculty, Regulus,” she continues, “and I certainly hope you will continue as our Potions teacher for a while to come. Horace Slughorn did write to tell me that he might consider coming out of retirement, provided there was a pay raise - curious timing, I thought, given I received his letter shortly after the news of Voldemort’s downfall was published.”  Sirius sniggers, shooting a what-did-I-tell-you look at Lily. “But I have written back to inform him that, most unfortunately, the post has been filled since his departure, and we are very satisfied with his replacement.” 

“I…um…thank you,” Regulus mumbles. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt less articulate in his life. 

“Wait, so…was that the ‘staffing arrangement’ you wanted to tell us about?” Sirius pipes up, frowning slightly at his favourite teacher now. “You just wanted to say that you’re not planning to fire Reg?” 

“No, there was a little more to it than that, actually,” McGonagall replies, looking rather amused at the indignant look on his face. She turns to Remus. “I was wondering, Mr Lupin, if perhaps you had been missing your teaching post at Hogwarts?” 

Remus blinks, looking thoroughly taken aback; it takes him a moment to respond. 

“I…yeah,” he admits. “Yeah, I have missed it, actually. I’ve missed it a lot.” He sounds surprised by his own words, as though he’s only just realising the truth of them. “I mean, I missed Sirius and James, but I really loved teaching, actually. I felt…content. Fulfilled, I guess.” 

“I am not surprised to hear that,” the headmistress answers, looking thoroughly satisfied, as though she’d expected exactly this answer. “You are a natural teacher, Mr Lupin; so natural that it feels somehow wrong for me to address you as Mr Lupin, rather than Professor Lupin. I watched you go out of your way to help all the students in your care, to guide them and put them at their ease, and they benefited greatly from your kindness and patience. I feel sure that there are many students who miss having you as a teacher, just as much as you miss teaching.” 

Bill and Meggie both nod vehemently at this.

“Yep, that’s my man,” Sirius agrees, looking ridiculously proud as he beams at him. 

It seems to take Remus a moment to find his voice. 

“But…I resigned, remember? I had to. What with my furry little problem mysteriously being published in The Prophet. ” 

He shoots a dark look at Narcissa at this; so do Fabian and Sirius. For once in her life, Narcissa actually averts her gaze, looking sheepish; though, Regulus muses, it’s not as though she can really be held accountable for every vile decision her husband had ever made. 

“If I came back to teach, we would both be dealing with a slew of vicious letters and Howlers from parents, every day,” Remus continues. His tone is determinedly mild, but the tense set of his jaw clearly tells Regulus how much it hurts him, cuts him to the core, to say it. “That’s just the reality. You know that as well as I do, Professor.” 

“Perhaps there may, indeed, be some bigoted parents who would protest your reinstatement at Hogwarts,” McGonagall concedes. “But I seem to recall that there have been some rather more recent articles in The Prophet, which referred to you by name, numerous times, as a key player in Voldemort’s downfall three days ago. ‘Formerly disgraced werewolfRemus Lupin revealed as unlikely war hero,’ I believe one of them was titled. It seems to me that, given the situation, there are likely to be far more parents who would be thrilled to hear that you were once more teaching their children Defence.” 

Remus opens his mouth. 

“Do not try telling me that it would be too dangerous for you to return and teach,” says McGonagall, seeming to read his mind. “I know for a fact that Professor Black here brewed Wolfsbane Potion for you every month while you were at Hogwarts, to ensure you would not be a danger to anyone during full moons; I also know he has continued to send you a supply in the months since you left the school, and that he will be more than happy to continue brewing it upon your return. Am I correct, Regulus?” 

“Yes, yes and yes,” Regulus answers, feeling considerably less wrongfooted now as he smirks at the look on Remus’s face. It’s absurd really, how excited he feels at the prospect of working with his best friend again. 

Remus closes his mouth.

“And as for those few who may still be against your taking up the post again,” McGonagall continues, “well, Remus, I think you and I both know that people in general have a lot of opinions, many of which are prejudiced, ill-informed and generally not worth listening to. It scarcely takes three seconds to burn a Howler, after all. So - will you consent to join us at Hogwarts again, starting next week, and become Professor Lupin once more?” 

“I…” Remus looks around for a moment, as though trying to give them a chance to protest; when nobody does, he lets out a sigh as if his hand has been forced, which is entirely at odds with the way his face has lit up with excitement. “I should have known better than to try and argue with Minerva McGonagall,” he mutters.

“You should, yes,” she agrees. 

“Very well, Professor,” he says, grinning at her, “you’ve convinced me. Yes, I’ll return as Defence teacher.” 

“Yes!” Meggie and Bill crow gleefully, in unison, as James rushes forwards to squeeze Remus again; this time, Fabian joins him. 

“Okay, okay,” Remus laughs, “let me breathe, please.” 

“ Merlin , I’m proud of you, Moony,” James mumbles, sounding like he’s on the brink of tears again. 

“Me too,” Fabian agrees.  

“Me three,” Sirius agrees, rubbing frantically at his eyes again as he squeezes the other man’s hand. “Although I can’t pretend I won’t miss him like crazy; you’d better get used to me hanging around in Hogsmeade constantly again. I’ve gotta say, it’s a bit rude of you, taking my future husband away from me like this, Minnie; but given how bloody proud of him I am, I suppose I can let it slide this once. Provided you give us ample time to plan the -” 

“Oh, did I forget to mention?” McGonagall interjects mildly, her lips twitching slightly again. “There is another vacancy at Hogwarts that will need to be filled.” 

“I…what?” Sirius asks, stopping abruptly in his tracks.

“There is another vacancy that needs to be filled,” she repeats, looking more than a little satisfied at catching him by surprise. “I am at my most fulfilled when I have a lot of work to be getting on with, it’s true; but even I am not prepared to continue in the role of Transfiguration teacher on top of being Headmistress. I have quite enough paperwork to be getting on with for the moment; honestly, I’m starting to wonder how Albus coped. Which is to say, there is now a vacancy for the role of Transfiguration teacher. Not to mention, head of Gryffindor House - provided the new Transfiguration teacher should be willing to take on that role too, of course.” 

Regulus stares at his brother, open-mouthed; so does Remus. So do James and Lily; even Harry looks startled. Sirius, however, is staring at McGonagall, looking convinced that he must have misheard her. 

“You’re….you’re offering me a job?” he asks faintly. “You want me to…to teach? At Hogwarts?” 

“If the idea is amenable to you, of course,” she says smoothly. 

“I…of course it’s bloody amenable to me!” he splutters. “But…how do you know I’m good enough at Transfiguration? What makes you think that I could be a teacher? Just because my boyfriend and my brother are good at it, that doesn’t mean I am!” 

“Well, aside from coming top of the class in Transfiguration for seven years straight - all while scarcely putting in any effort for the actual coursework, I might add,” she replies, raising one eyebrow at him, “there is also the fact that you successfully - not to mention, highly illegally - became an Animagus by the age of fifteen. Which, I need hardly tell you, is no mean feat.” 

“I….oh,” Sirius says awkwardly. He, Remus and James all freeze, staring at McGonagall with wide, guilty eyes, looking very much like they’ve just been caught in the act of stealing Ginger Newts from her tartan tin. “You, um…you know about that, huh?” 

“Certainly I know about it,” she answers, raising her eyebrows even higher, as the three of them look down, shuffling their feet. “I am an Animagus myself, remember? I know better than most people how complicated and challenging the process is, even when one is of age and doing it legally , under Ministry supervision. As I recall, one of the trickiest steps involved placing a Mandrake leaf under one’s tongue and holding it there for a full month. I am sure you will not mind my saying that I could not think of any logical answer, other than an illegal attempt to become Animagi, to the question of why you and Mr Potter had suddenly fallen completely silent in all my classes for a month.” 

Remus, Regulus and Lily all snort at this; though Regulus can’t help but feel somewhat stunned. He’d never really stopped to consider the dedication it must have taken for Sirius to become an Animagus; he knows how difficult it is for his brother to be patient and silent for half an hour, let alone a month. 

“Right, yeah, that’s…fair point,” Sirius admits sheepishly. “But we had to do that, Minnie. It was for our Moony.” 

“Well, yes, I assumed that must have been the reason behind it,” McGonagall answers, smiling slightly again. “And am I right in guessing that the whole thing was your idea, Mr Black?” 

“Well…yeah,” he answers. “Anything for my Moony.” 

Remus lets out a small, choked sound. Honestly, Regulus doesn’t blame him. 

“Indeed,” says McGonagall, smiling at the look on Remus’s face. “Well, that’s the other reason I am convinced you would thrive in the role of Transfiguration teacher. Aside from your remarkable aptitude for the subject itself, there is also the fact that you yourself know what it is to feel invisible and friendless - and you have demonstrated, on numerous occasions, just how far you are willing to go to help and protect those you care about. To ensure that they feel seen, just as you have always longed to be seen. It’s true that impulse control has never been one of your strongest suits, and you may perhaps need to work on reining in some of your more colourful language in front of students - though I imagine the same could be said for Professor Lupin, in that regard.” Remus cracks a small, sheepish grin at that. “Nevertheless,” McGonagall continues, turning back to face Sirius, “you have shown me since you were eleven, Mr Black, that you are brave and devoted, passionate about your beliefs and fiercely loving and protective. So I can scarcely think of anyone better suited to replace me as Transfiguration Professor, and Head of Gryffindor House. I daresay the students would be very lucky to have you, in fact.” 

“Oh,” Sirius chokes out. 

He rubs frantically at his eyes again. Regulus knows just how much those words mean to him, especially coming from his favourite teacher, when Sirius has spent so much of his life worrying - thanks in large part to their mother - that he’s broken, dark and rotted at his core, breaking things and people even when he’s trying his hardest to be gentle with them. 

Remus reaches out, squeezing his hand.

“Do I take it this means that you will accept the job?” McGonagall asks, looking both amused and openly fond, despite her best efforts. “That you will be coming to Hogwarts, along with Remus and your brother?” 

“I… yes!” He exclaims. “Yes, yes, yes!” 

Regulus lets out a breathless laugh; he can’t remember ever feeling this happy. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this happy, actually. He’s going to work at Hogwarts with his best friend and his brother, and retiring at the end of each day to a cottage in Hogsmeade with his boyfriend, just around the corner. What has he ever done to deserve this? 

“Thank you, Minnie,” Sirius says, more sincere than Regulus thinks he’s ever heard him. 

“For?” she asks.

“For…” he pauses, and Regulus can tell he’s looking for words that will communicate just how much this means to him. “For believing in me,” he says eventually.

She looks back at him for a moment, considering him.

“I have always believed in you, Sirius,” she tells him.

At that, Sirius lets out a high-pitched wail, burying his face in his hands. Everyone laughs, even the children. 

“I want to hug you, dammit!” he complains, grey eyes swimming in tears. “But you’re not actually here!” 

“Surely you can come and join us properly for a toast, Minnie?” Fabian pipes up, grinning at her brightly. “Maybe even a bit of cake? Otherwise you’ll just be leaving us to deal with this complete mess.” He pokes Sirius in the side.

“Shut up!” Sirius wails at him. 

“Oh, very well,” says McGonagall, not even attempting to hide her fond, amused expression anymore. “You have convinced me, Mr Prewett.”

“He has?” Sirius asks, perking up immediately. 

“Yes, indeed,” she replies, with a small sigh. “I do still have some paperwork that needs to be finished urgently, unfortunately - so please do not wait on my account. But I daresay I shall be there in an hour or so. I shall see you all shortly.” 

With that, there’s a small pop, and Minerva McGonagall’s head vanishes from the fire, the emerald flames dying down slightly and turning scarlet again. 

“She believes in me,” Sirius breathes, sounding overwhelmed, still staring at the spot where the headmistress’s head had been. 

“So do I,” Remus and James reply simultaneously. 

“And me,” Regulus adds quietly. 

“Merlin, you all need to stop!” Sirius protests, burying his face in his hands again. 

“Perhaps we should stop talking and start eating, then?” Molly pipes up. “It looks like your birthday cake is ready, Sirius; perfect timing, really. And Minerva did tell us not to wait for her.” 

With exclamations of eagerness, everyone heads over obediently, the small children (other than Draco, who’s still cautiously sticking to his mother and Regulus), practically bouncing up and down in excitement. 

Molly waves her wand, sending the cake as well as assorted other plates of food and bottles of wine, Butterbeer and pumpkin juice soaring neatly over to land on the Weasleys’ huge table.

Regulus leans back against Fabian’s chest, his boyfriend wrapping his arms around him; next to them, Sirius is leaning back against Remus’s chest in almost exactly the same way. Regulus feels a warm sense of peace and contentment flooding through his chest, like a soothing cup of tea after a long, hard day, as he takes in the scene around him. 

Andromeda’s daughter is eagerly trying to help lay the table, Charlie grinning as he chats to her and dutifully picks up the things she’s just knocked over. Meggie is chatting away to Andromeda and Lily as she pulls up a few more chairs, Bill staring up at her as though she’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen. 

The twins, little menaces that they are, are trying to snatch at the food, their weary-looking father attempting to restrain them even as he carries his daughter in one arm. Arthur doesn’t appear to have noticed that his two-year-old, Ginny, is leaning down to steal some snacks for herself, a satisfied grin on her little freckled face, taking advantage of her father’s distraction. Their older brother wanders over behind them, nose still in his book, looking up to cast the twins one withering glance before returning to his reading. 

Harry and Ron are still clinging to each other’s hands as though worried someone might try to pull them apart at any moment, Harry still holding out his other hand hopefully to Draco, even as Draco narrows his eyes at him suspiciously, shuffling closer to Narcissa and taking her hand instead. 

“Merlin, look at them,” Lily murmurs, her voice slightly hoarse. Regulus turns to see that she’s watching the children too, one hand entwined with James’s, the other resting almost absentmindedly on her still-flat stomach, her bright green eyes distinctly watery. “They’re all so happy. And we…we really did that. We made sure they could grow up like this. No more Riddle, with his Horcruxes and his unhinged power trips. No more war looming above their heads.” 

“It’s the end of an era, I suppose,” Regulus murmurs. 

“No,” Remus contradicts him. 

Regulus turns to look at his best friend, surprised. Remus’s mouth curves into a soft smile as he leans his chin on the top of Sirius’s head, a warm and contented expression on his scarred face as he, too, gazes at the scene. 

“No, this isn’t the end of an era,” Remus continues. “It’s the beginning.”