BLAME

Chapter 4: Send My Regards to Hell

“Why are we here?”

Sirius Black rolled his eyes with irritation as Dumbledore ignored him.

“Evans, what the fuck is going on?”

Lily hesitated. He thought she looked paler than usual, and tired.

“You’ve been on too many missions. You shall have to cut back your hours. You’re no good to us dead, you know,” he informed her, frowning. “Merlin, Fuck, I’ll tell Moody.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” Lily said, without much vigour, looking distractedly towards the door and back at him.

She should have argued with him properly, not like this. Like she was worried about him, or nervous.

“What?” he barked, sticking his chin out and feeling his irritation increasing.

He noticed her gaze wandering over to where Remus sat, nursing his mug of tea, eyes closed. Probably napping. He could see why she might have been worried about him. Remus looked dreadful these days, exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes were concerning, his jeans were hanging off him, like he had lost weight. His stubble was almost a beard. Plus, it was two days till full moon. And now there was no Prongs to keep the wolf in check, full moons were much more dangerous for both of them, for everyone. He was worried about Moony. Hated seeing the extra scars every month, reminders he wasn’t doing enough for his friend. He did his best as Padfoot to keep the wolf in the Forbidden Forest, to steer clear of any people, any dangers, but…

Prongs.

Every time he so much as thought fleetingly about Potter his mood dropped immediately, a gut-wrenching tightness in his chest. A hole.

“He’s fine,” he said dismissively. “He’s fucking fine.”

It came out louder, harsher, than he intended. Remus’ eyes blinked open, looking red. Standard pre- full moon. No need to worry about it. It was fine, he told himself. Fine.

“Sorry, must have dozed off,” Remus said, his voice hoarser than usual, and thick with sleep. “What happened?”

“Nothing. That’s the fucking problem,” he said with a tight smile.

“Ah shit!” Remus muttered as his mug slipped and tea sloshed onto his torn jeans.

Sirius immediately flicked a cleaning charm his way. Remus wiped his hand on his thigh, and cleared his throat, embarrassed.

“Thanks,” Remus said, looking down.

Sirius looked at Remus’ profile. The palest hint of red on his cheeks now. The freckles on his nose. The curls at the back that needed cutting. The way he bit the side of his lip when he was shy or cringed. Sirius Black had a secret. He was secretly in love with his best friend. His best friend who had no feelings for him at all. Nothing was ever going to happen between them.

Nothing. That was the fucking problem, wasn’t it? Merlin fuck, what was wrong with him?

“I’m going,” he stood, pulling the collar of his leather jacket up and glaring at Dumbledore provocatively, itching for a fight.

“Mr. Black,” Dumbledore sighed, steepling his hands together and looking around.

There were only a few Order members assembled in the Headmaster’s office – Lily, Remus, Benjy Fenwick (who looked half- stoned on pain potions after his recent injuries), Marlene McKinnon and Moody (looking even more agitated than usual). Why? There was something off…

“Sirius, sit down,” Remus said quietly, like he was being a prat.

He was tired. He had nearly gotten himself killed the previous night after Bellatrix and Dolohov had spotted him spying on them. It was a miracle he had made it out alive, diving out of the second-floor window. The left side of his body was badly bruised, but he had covered it up with some glamour charms. There was a good chance his arm was broken. He didn’t know would he bother going to Poppy. He hadn’t told anyone what had happened. There were still splinters of glass in his leg and arm. He wasn’t in the mood for his ex- Headmaster’s bullshit.

He opened his mouth to protest and saw the weariness in Remus’ expression. He was about to sit down when the door creaked.

***

Minerva McGonagall walked into Dumbledore’s office. James hesitated. He had often relived what had happened the last time he was in that room, most often during nightmares.

“Get inside, Potter,” Dearborn said behind him, wand out.

Why hadn’t Dumbledore come to see him in the Infirmary if he wanted to talk to him?

“Inside. Now,” Dearborn’s wand poked him in the back.

Clenching his jaw, he stepped forwards and almost immediately stopped in his tracks.  Sirius Black, who he hadn’t seen since the end of Fifth Year, was standing in front of him, a stunned and horrified expression on his face. The same icy grey eyes, the same defiant stance, straight backed. He hadn’t expecting to see him.

“Dumbledore, what the fuck is going on?” Sirius Black looked like he had seen a ghost, eyes never leaving James’ face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who are not yet au fait with recent events, Mr. Potter was rescued by Miss McKinnon during a battle with Voldemort and his forces on the 27^th of March. He was badly injured, and Madame Pomfrey and Miss Evans have been treating him since. He is well enough to talk to us today,” Dumbledore said.

“He was fighting with the D.E.s?” James could hear a tremor in Sirius’ voice.

Marlene nodded, pressing her lips together, as though trying to appear unperturbed.

“His mates disapparated, he would have died if we hadn’t intervened, what was I supposed to do, leave him there?” she shrugged, avoiding James’ eyes.

“So, it’s true that he’s one of them?” Sirius said, hand on his wand.

James looked at Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked away.

“That is correct, Mr. Black,” he said.

“You expect me to sit in the same room as this… traitor?” Sirius shouted at the older man, pointing to James in disgust.

James flinched. It wasn’t Sirius’ fault, he reminded himself, Sirius didn’t know the truth. He needed to stay calm. He needed to remember to breathe.

“Either shut up or leave, Black!” Dearborn said, taking a hold of James’ arm, painful, and moving him towards an empty chair.

“Sit down, for fuck’s sake,” Remus stood up and dragged Sirius to sit beside him.

James noted that Sirius didn’t resist him. He had always given in to Remus on the rare occasion when his friend put his foot down. Poor Remus, he looked older than he should, James thought, noticing his prematurely greying hair and sunken eyes. Every single full moon since the day he was expelled, James had thought about his friend, had asked for forgiveness for not being able to accompany him. Part of him was relieved, Remus was alive, he hadn’t spotted him on the battlefield in months, but he was alright. He almost smiled at him. Remus was now staring back at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

He thinks you told Snape about the Whomping Willow, he reminded himself, feeling unreasonably guilty. He found he couldn’t look at Remus.

“Sit!” Dearborn pushed James down and he stumbled, hissing as his back hit the wooden chair.

“Be careful, Doc!” Lily Evans snapped. “We’ve only just managed to get his back to stop bleeding today.”

Dearborn rolled his eyes and ignored her, conjuring metal restraints onto James’ wrists, locking them to the arms of the chair. James looked at Dumbledore silently. What the hell was that man playing at? He had given up trying to predict his strategic moves, his intentions. He was so sick of it all.

“Mr. Potter, following on from our conversation yesterday,” Dumbledore began.

(What conversation?)

“I believe it is time to tell the others the truth.”

James didn’t speak. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The one thing he had wanted to happen, it couldn’t be true. His eyes filled up and he shut them tightly.

“Order members, Mr. Potter is a Death Eater, but he has agreed to become a double agent for us.”

“What?” James opened his eyes.

“And you believe him?” Sirius Black’s derisive laugh. “No offence, Professor, but you must be going senile.”

“What the hell?” Marlene said, pointing her index finger at Dumbledore. “You told me we were handing him over to Moody, to the Aurors?”

“Mr. Potter is more valuable to us as a spy,” Dumbledore replied.

James locked eyes with him. What the fuck was the man playing at? If he went back now, would Voldemort believe him? He would have to tell him he was a triple agent. The level of Legilimency he would be subjected to made him gag. And if there was another spy, a real spy in the Order working for Voldemort (as both he and Dumbledore suspected), his cover was blown.

He wanted to scream at Dumbledore. He was sick to death of it all. His soul was sick. He wanted out.

“I’m not doing it. I quit.”

He tried to speak but found he couldn’t open his mouth. His eyes widened. He could feel himself panicking, becoming lightheaded.

“Are you alright, Potter?”

Lily Evans was standing up. James looked at Dumbledore. A Silencing Charm. For a moment he had thought that someone had put a Praefocabilis Curse* on him, as he had seen Voldemort do. He breathed in deeply, nostrils flaring.

“Mr. Potter is fine, thank you, Miss Evans,” Dumbledore, with a smile that failed to reach his eyes.

“She didn’t ask you.”

It was Sirius Black, also on his feet. James didn’t want to see Sirius’ expression when he looked at him. He couldn’t face seeing any more scorn, and even worse, he couldn’t face it if he saw any concern, so he kept his head down.

“Mr. Black, if you disturb this meeting one more time, I shall have to ask you to leave the Order,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Permanently.”

It was a reflex. Him covering for Padfoot, Padfoot covering for him.

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine, Sir,” James found he could speak again, if a bit shaky.

Lily Evans had moved seats and was now sitting directly in front of him.

“I’ll be the one to decide if you’re fine or not, Mr. Potter,” she said, in a crisp, business-like manner, sounding remarkably like McGonagall. “Any more breathing difficulties, and you are coming back to the Infirmary with me.”

Sirius Black sat down. James glanced at McGonagall. She was smoothing out her cloak, ridding it of imaginary wrinkles. Her lips were pursed tightly and her posture rigid. She looked up at him, then immediately looked away. His chest hurt. This, being here, was somehow worse than being with Voldemort’s crew. Or just as bad. He slumped back in his chair and stifled a groan.

Lily Evans’ eyes flashed dangerously.

“I’m fine, marauders’ ho- I’m fine,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, I can see that, you’re marvellous,” her cool reply.

He glared at her, thick, unruly hair falling over his eyes, shoulders tensing.

“Mr. Potter is now working for the Order. Dearborn, please appraise him of our- “ Dumbledore said.

“I’m busy,” Dearborn said, folding his arms and staring at James.

“I’m already gone,” Moody said, hobbling towards the door. “I’m meant to be meeting the Minister, an hour ago. McKinnon, get a move on.”

Marlene rolled her eyes and followed him. She must be a trainee Auror, James guessed. She turned back when she reached the door.

“Welcome on board, Potter,” she said.

Unless she was stupid, which she clearly wasn’t, she must be deeply wary of him. Still, it made him feel stupidly emotional. He gave a curt nod.

“This is bollocks!” Sirius said, standing up again. “You can’t just fucking well- “

“Ah yes, Mr. Black, you can take over from Dearborn, show Mr. Potter the ropes,” Dumbledore said, calmly surveying them from behind his half-moon glasses. “Mr. Fenwick, report back to Madame Pomfrey to see if you are fit for duty later today. If not, Mr. Lupin will take your place.”

“Remus isn’t going anywhere, you imbecile!”

The only thing stopping the handsome man from punching their ex- Headmaster in the face, was Remus’ hand which was now gripping Sirius’ thigh.

“As long as the mission isn’t a long one, I’m already…” Remus faltered.

The full moon.

“He’s already booked into another mission in forty-eight hours’ time,” James supplied. “One he can’t get out of.”

Benjy stared at him in confusion. James cleared his throat.

“I, uh, I presumed, that is, I overheard Moody telling- “ he said.

“Yes, exactly,” Sirius said, looking at Dumbledore with a tense expression. “If Fenwick is unfit, I’ll go.”

“Mr. Black, you are not in a fit state to- “

“Merlin, fuck,” Sirius’ voice rose.

“I’ll go,” James interrupted. “I’m perfectly fine to- “

“Oh shut up, the lot of you! Benjy’s oscillating between hallucinating and sleep walking, the muggle on the street could tell you he’s not going anywhere after this meeting except straight to bed. Fenwick, upstairs, now!” she pointed towards the door. “Minerva, could you?”

“Of course, Evans,” McGonagall said, looking at Benjy sternly. “Young man?”

They left immediately, Minerva studiously avoiding looking at him.

“Sirius, before you attempt to lie to me, you might want to know that those glamour charms you cast have worn off. They were pretty useless to start with, by the way,” Lily said.

“So? Doesn’t stop me from- “ Sirius Black glared at her.

“You also have blood seeping through your jeans. And your humerus is broken, I can see it from here,” she said, raising her right eyebrow.

“Trifling details, darling.”

“Which means you’re out. Remus is out. And Potter is worse than the two of you put together.”

All three men opened their mouth to protest. Lily stood up and walked over to Dumbledore’s desk.

“I will be going on that mission tonight. Is that clear? Sir.”

“Yes, Miss Evans.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Lily said, rolling her auburn waves into a low bun and sticking her wand into it as a hair pin. “Gentlemen.”

Remus looked guilty. Sirius looked belligerent. He was sure he looked a mixture of both. She eyes rested on him for a beat too long, he couldn’t figure out why.

“I expect you back in your bed as soon as Sirius is finished with you, Potter,” she said. “Or you’ll be in trouble.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said.

Sirius snorted despite himself.

“I mean… alright, Evans,” he cleared his throat.

“Dearborn, my office,” she said.

“What? Oh, no, I’m perfectly alright,” Dearborn gave an anxious laugh.

“The last patient in your situation who said that ended up with a boil on their arse the size of a cantaloupe. So unless you want a lopsided rear-end, I suggest you do as you’re told, Dearborn?”

“Oh, gods,” Dearborn muttered under his breath, following after her.

And then there was just Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, and him left.

***

“I’ve spent half my life around wannabe Death Eaters. So if you think I’m going to fall for your damned lies, whatever they are, you’re sorely mistaken. I don’t believe you’ve changed. I don’t believe you’re working for us now. I know your type. You’ll go straight back to Voldy and tell him everything you know, you traitor,” Sirius said.

“Sirius,” Remus warned.

“Send my regards to hell,” Sirius sneered, bending down to where James sat, still restrained.

“I’ll tell Reggie you said hello, shall I?” he shot back.

What the fuck, James? What the actual fuck was wrong with him?

Sirius’ face turned white.

“You bastard!” he slapped James across the face, hard.

James bit his lip as he felt the recently healed scab on his neck open.

“Merlin, give me patience!”

Remus lupin didn’t lose his temper often, because he was too scared of loosing control, in general, in everything. But when he snapped, if he finally lost it, you paid attention.

Sirius looked back at James with tears in his eyes, then looked away immediately, as though James had slapped him back.

“Merlin, fuck! I just…” his voice cracking.

Remus put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Padfoot, please,” he said in a low voice.

“He was my brother, and now he… both of them…” Sirius swallowed.

“I know. And he owes us an explanation,” Remus said.

James looked him in the eye for the first time that day. He felt sick.

“You owe me an explanation, James, for trying to turn me into a murderer. Why? What did I ever do to you to merit such… to merit that? Was I only ever a dark creature, scum, in your eyes, that you could just use me to do your dirty work on a whim? Were you always one of them?”

***

Notes

* Asphyxiation curse