Work Text:
The library was dwindling to its last inhabitants for the night, earlier now than on school nights, if only because students were eager to get the weekend started. Sunday they would rush back and stay for hours, cramming to get their work done before Monday's lessons. Remus, however, was fresh out of a full moon and had plenty of work to catch up on already. He'd be in here for at least another hour if he could manage to gather the strength for it. Right after lessons he had parted with his friends, despite their protestations that it was now, "Officially the weekend, mate. We're gonna take the cloak and head to Zonko's, get a load of Nose Biting Teacups for divination with Slytherin."
And while that sounded fun, as it was always fun to sneak up to Hogsmeade together, Remus didn't have the luxury of wasting the evening at Zonko's and trying to carry back a bunch of biting teacups. He had missed three days of classes this time, and each moon seemed to be worse than the last. Remus chalked it up to the unusually clear winter skies, but in reality he was far more concerned than he let on about graduating come the end of the year. How they had already come to 7th year was beyond him, when it seemed only the other day they had been first years.
Thusly, James, Sirius, and Peter parted with Remus at the One-Eyed Witch, and Remus headed off to the library alone. He'd spent most of the time at an empty table, brushing up on what Charms he had missed, and now trying to get started on History of Magic. He fucking hated History of Magic. He didn't know anyone that enjoyed it, except for perhaps Peter, if only because he had a knack for date memorization and it was a class he excelled at without having to do more than take a few notes. Remus, on the other hand, was not good at date memorization, despite having to keep track of the full moon every month.
Realizing he had neglected to bring his copy of the book, Remus gave a sigh and heaved himself from his wooden chair, slumping his shoulders as he headed for the right section. It took him several moments to find a tattered copy of A History of Magic Second Edition, but when he looked up from the row of books he realized that someone had come to the aisle as well.
Remus stared at Regulus Black for a solid fifteen seconds before Regulus looked back at him.
"Remus." Regulus murmured, stoic and cool, as per usual, but had already returned to scanning the bookshelf.
"R-Regulus." Remus replied after several moments, in which he was attempting to decide whether or not Regulus had actually addressed him.
They were not meant to look at one another, much less speak to each other. It was an unspoken rule. On the few occasions when the Marauders had run into Regulus in the halls, they all stared straight ahead, nearly held their breath in passing, and resumed right up with conversations when they were a good five feet away from one another. When Sirius was with them it was even worse, as he would get suddenly much louder and more flamboyant, wildly gesticulating no matter what he was talking about.
Remus had the sore experience of watching Sirius talking about breakfast, a smile on his face until he caught sight of Regulus coming down the hall, "I mean those crumpets! Delicious! Absolutely bloody brilliant!" Sirius practically yelled, arms waving outwardly, hitting both Remus and Peter in the face and shoulder, respectively. Ever since Sirius had gone to live with the Potters, he couldn't keep his cool around Regulus any longer. Regulus, of course, just stared straight ahead, didn't even bat an eyelash at his brother or acknowledge that he was there at all.
Remus figured that was why Sirius would get so loud suddenly, why he would make a big show of himself. He wanted Regulus to look at him. He wanted his brother to just see him again. It was terrible. The two of them had been rocky for years, Remus knew bits and pieces of their quarrels, but at least they had used to look at one another in the halls. Regulus' first year they even said a few passing words to each other, simple, "Hello," and "Alright, Reg." Then it went to nodding the next year, then just glances the next, and then finally nothing at all. They ignored each other for an entire two years, and now Sirius practically begged for his brother to look at him.
He'd never admit it, Remus knew that, but he couldn't imagine how difficult it was on Sirius. He only ever shared a little bit, never really liked to talk about Regulus, pretended he didn't even have a brother until they spotted one another in the halls. James, Peter, and Remus had made it their mission to find out Regulus' schedule so as to steer Sirius into completely missing him in the halls now. Remus was pretty sure that Sirius had caught on to that scheme, as he often became indignant about following a certain route to classes but would not give a reason as to why.
In all honesty, it broke Remus' heart to see Sirius pained that way.
"You're staring at me." Regulus hadn't looked at Remus again, but was dutifully scanning the shelves for whatever book he wanted. If Remus didn't know any better, he might have thought Regulus was only pretending to look for a book.
"Oh, right, yeah, sorry," Remus blinked a few times as if coming out of a stupor, and shook his head a little. He was tired. But this was more words than they had ever exchanged, and with the knowledge that the rest of the Marauders would not be coming to fetch him any time soon, Remus pressed the conversation. Albeit, not very smoothly. "He worries about you," It came out as a blurted sentence, and Remus felt immediately embarrassed.
"I didn't ask," Regulus muttered, finally looking at Remus again, his face cold but his eyes alight with... fear? Was that fear? In all these years Remus didn't think that Regulus Black, who so coldly passed his own brother over, who never looked anything but like a statue, could be afraid. It didn't take much to guess what he was afraid of.
"But you should know anyway," Remus insisted, closing A History of Magic and taking a daring step forward, "You should know that he still cares about you, Regulus. He won't say it himself, but he does. You're still his brother, you know."
Regulus all but glowered, and Remus was positive he had stepped over the line. As Regulus spoke his voice cracked and his fists clenched, "We're not brothers, Sirius and I. He said so himself."
Remus' face fell and he shook his head, unbelieving. He didn't know the last words that Sirius and Regulus had ever spoken to each other were ones of a bridge burned, but he knew it shouldn't have been surprising. Sirius could get heated when he cared, could break his cool exterior and say things that would kill a person, slowly, over time. Words that would eat away at you in the middle of the night, even if it had only been a passing remark at first. Remus knew firsthand what callous things Sirius was capable of, what cruel words he was so adept at spewing out in the heat of anger.
For Remus the words were, "But you're not like other werewolves, are you? You're not a monster like them, right, Remus?" It had been said so casually, so coolly, so intentionally that it pained Remus greatly every time he thought about it. They had been having a fight, a few months after Sirius had nearly gotten Snape killed. Remus had finally broken into anger, and to be fair he had laid some rather low blows himself; said things that he thought he didn't really mean. After that he and Sirius knew what was really at the heart of each other, and despite it they still... well, they were still whatever they were to one another, perhaps even more so.
And now Remus knew the words that haunted Regulus: that he and Sirius were no longer brothers. Remus could just imagine it, and he winced outwardly for the younger Black.
"He didn't mean it," Remus tried to insist, gently, "You know how he is."
"I don't," Regulus said curtly, "I don't know what he's like at all anymore." He turned back to the bookshelves, though continued speaking, his voice collecting back to its silver coolness, "We aren't anything alike, Sirius and I, and I don't know him anymore than I know you. I don't want to know him. And if you think he's worried about me, you're in denial. If he was worried he wouldn't have--" Regulus' lips pursed, the words seemed to choke him, but he swallowed and spoke steady, "If he was worried about me, he wouldn't have left."
"That's not true," Remus took another step forward, and though he all but towered over Regulus, he felt very small against the glare he received, "He had to take care of himself too, Regulus. Didn't you see it? He had to get out, he had to save himself. Your parents were breaking him, they were killing him."
"Don't you dare," Regulus whispered hotly, staring up at Remus with a rage and fury that he had only ever seen in Sirius, "Don't you dare talk about my parents, as if you know them, as if you have ever even met them. You don't know the first thing about my family, Lupin. You don't know how hard they have to work, how demanding it is to be a Black. You don't know what it's like at all; you don't know what we have to do to maintain. And there Sirius goes, pouncing about like an imbecile, ruining his name --ruining my name. You think he has it hard, do you? You think he has it hard now, living with James Potter, doing as he pleases, never facing any consequences? You have no idea what I go through, you don't know what it's like to be a Black, so don't you come here and tell me that Sirius worries. Don't you dare."
"Jesus Christ, Regulus," the phrase would be lost on him, but Remus still said it anyway, a habit picked up from his mother. He stared at Regulus in near horror, "What have they done to you? What do they do to you?"
"Nothing," Regulus spat, "Nothing they didn't do to him." And though his features seemed to say that he was stronger than Sirius, his clenched jaw and fists screamed that he was stronger, his eyes were broken. He couldn't hide it, the welling of tears. Whatever had been taken out on Sirius had clearly fallen to Regulus now, and Remus was mortified. Absolutely mortified.
"I-... I'm sorry," He whispered, but he didn't know why, as there wasn't anything he could do to fix it. Remus couldn't very well take this conversation back, couldn't do anything to stop it from continuing, either. He stared at Regulus, taking him in, studying him in a new light. He was hurting. God, Regulus was hurting and Remus had never seen it before. Not in the cold stare ahead when they passed each other in the halls, not in the complete ignoring of his own brother. It was all because Regulus hurt, too. Because he couldn't stand to see what he felt he had lost.
"Save it," Regulus' shook his head, rolled his eyes as his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, something that Remus knew Sirius to do as well. They were so alike, and neither of them saw it. Or, perhaps, they both saw it, and both fought against it.
"He does care though, Regulus," Remus said a bit more firmly, a bit more bravely, "He worries about you because you are his brother. You know what he says in his sleep? When he has nightmares? Merlin, I hear them almost every night and you know what they're about? They're about you, Regulus. He dreams that someone's taking you away to god knows what. I don't know what's happened between the two of you, what he's said, but he still cares, Regulus. He still thinks of you as his brother."
Regulus pounced then, tore at Remus' collar with one hand, wand in the other, "He said we weren't! He shouted it at me! And here you come telling me that's a lie? It's too late now! What's been done is done!"
Never in a million years would Remus have thought that Regulus was capable of lashing out this way. He was always so, so cold looking, and now the blood rushed to his face and anger burned in his eyes. Anger and pain. He looked so like Sirius in this moment, and Remus had to look away, couldn't meet those eyes.
Remus held his hands up submissively, dropping his book but not going for his own wand, though he was nearly positive that Regulus was going to curse him. Despite their height differences, Remus felt very much like the smaller one of them. He was still weak from the moon, but more than that he just didn't want to fight Regulus. All that pain and Remus knew what it was like. God, he knew what deep pain like that was, and he couldn't bring himself to fight against Regulus now.
"You see?" Regulus whispered once it was clear Remus was not going to fight back. He shoved Remus back and lifted his own sleeve, pressing his wand to the inside of his wrist. What seemed like ink swirled on his skin, and within moments the Dark Mark showed on the inside of his arm, and Remus gasped in horror.
He was so young.
Regulus was so young and he was already marked.
Remus couldn't help but wonder if this would have happened if Sirius hadn't left. By the same token he knew that Sirius wouldn't have survived living in that house any longer. It was a sacrifice, Remus realized, one Black for the other, and Sirius had unknowingly made it. In saving himself he had given up his brother, and he had no idea. He had absolutely no idea what he had done. His heart broke for Regulus, but there was a guilt as well; Remus would rather Regulus was lost than Sirius, though it brought no relief to the situation.
"It's too late, Remus. I can't go back now. You tell him, you tell Sirius that it's too late for me now, that he can stop worrying because it's already too late."
There was nothing that Remus could say. He stared at the mark, transfixed and horrified. For a long moment the two of them just gazed at Regulus' arm, tears pricking at either of their eyes. Remus understood now, why Regulus had to ignore his brother, why he couldn't turn back, why he couldn't make amends. It was too late. Remus didn't want to admit it, but he knew that it was too late for Regulus. Perhaps it was his own fear of the war, of what lay beyond the safety of Hogwarts, but Remus knew that Regulus was right in his assessment. What was done was done.
"Regulus-" Remus was cut off by the loud sound of books falling off the shelf a few rows down and the groan of the student that had upset them. In that quick moment Regulus had lowered his sleeve, the mark hidden again, and turned to leave Remus in a flash.
"Regulus!" Remus said again, but the younger Black had already fled, and Remus didn't think it was wise to chase him. After a few moments he finally stooped to pick up A History of Magic and put it back on the shelf, before gathering up his things from where he had left them at the table and head back to the common room.
-----
It wasn't until late that night, when James and Peter had finally headed up to the dormitory, that Remus approached Sirius in the common room to talk about what had happened with Regulus.
"Sirius..." they sat in opposite armchairs in front of the fire, the rest of the common room empty at this late hour. Sirius fiddled with one of the Nose Biting Teacups, running his finger along its edge, smirking at the little nibbles he received.
"I've decided to keep this one," Sirius mused, holding up the fine porcelain teacup in the light, the gilded edging catching and dancing with the reflection of the fire, "We tested them all out, and this one doesn't do more than nibble some. Defective. Shame to take it back though, I quite like it. I've named it Herbert."
"That's... that's lovely, Sirius," Remus frowned a bit, feeling uncomfortable, "I need to talk to you about something."
"What is it?" Sirius asked, placing the teacup down on a side table and turning his attention to Remus, "Is something wrong, mate? You look a bit queasy. Do you need to go back to Madam Pomfrey?"
"No, no, it's not that," Remus assured, glancing nervously from the fireplace to Sirius, and wringing his hands slightly. Regulus was a touchy subject, no matter what mood Sirius was in. "I saw... well, when I was in the library tonight, ahhh," Remus fiddled and stared at his hands in his lap. How was he supposed to tell Sirius that his brother had the Dark Mark?
"What is it, Remus? You're starting to worry me," Sirius sat forward in his chair, looking over Remus with concern, "You sure you don't need to go to the nurse?"
"Regulus," Remus blurted out, eyes darting up at Sirius just in time to see his face fall, before he looked back at his own hands, "I saw Regulus."
Sirius sat back in his armchair with a little huff, and picked up his teacup again, becoming decidedly interested in it, "So what?"
"Sirius," Remus sat forward a bit, dropped his voice, "Sirius I don't know how to tell you but-... Well, Regulus... he-... shit." Remus frowned and shook his head, trying to brace himself as best he could, "Sirius, Regulus has the Dark Mark."
He expected Sirius to leap from his chair, to start cursing and screaming and rush down to the Slytherin common room. Sirius did none of those things. He sat placidly, ringing his finger about the teacup again, staring into the fire silently.
Remus let a few moments pass before leaning forward a bit more, on the edge of his own chair, "Sirius, did you hear me? Regulus... he's already got the Dark Mark." Remus nearly wanted to weep, staring at Sirius now. He was so stoic, so calm, and it was almost as horrifying as seeing the mark on Regulus to begin with.
Slowly Sirius stood up, walked towards the fire and tipped the teacup into it. It shattered evenly. Sirius turned to head towards the dormitory stairs, though he glanced over his shoulder at Remus a moment, his grey eyes empty, cold. Remus shivered at the look, standing himself now, worried that Sirius might snap or break or do something. Instead he just whispered and turned to go again.
"I know."