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As soon as his father was no longer within viewing distance of his computer screen, Reg clicked back through his internet pages until he found the online chessboard once more.
“Bastard,” he cursed under his breath when he saw his opponent’s most recent move. “Are you getting better at this, or am I imagining things?”
There was a timid knock on his office door and Regulus glanced up to find Peter Pettigrew’s round face staring at him through the glass partition.
What could he want?
Reg minimized his browser again and waved Peter inside, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible lest he be anything less than completely professional at all times. Peter stumbled into the office chair across from Regulus, his whole demeanor even more anxious than normal. This was bound to be a fantastic conversation. Regulus wished he were anywhere else.
“What is it?” Reg blurted out when Peter made no move to explain his presence.
“Oh. Oh, uh… well, you see…”
Regulus was going to kill Peter. Soon. And it was going to be a painful death.
“So, you know the Riddle case?”
Do I know the most talked-about case in the whole of England that my father just put me in charge of defending… out of the blue… for no apparent reason? Why yes, yes I do.
Regulus pasted on a warm smile. “Yes.”
“Well, I just heard from Rosier who heard from Selwyn who heard from Karkaroff that the prosecution has a new legal team.”
Good, they need it, was Regulus’s first thought.
The evidence the prosecution obtained against Black & Associates’ biggest client, Tom Riddle, was circumstantial at best. It looked like it was going to be a pretty open-and-shut case, but maybe this new team would actually make what was once going to be a fairly boring trial into something much more exciting for Regulus. Stranger things have happened.
“Who?” Reg asked cordially.
At this question, Peter’s eyes turned impossibly wide.
Oh.
“No,” huffed out Regulus, and then he repeated it. “No. No, no. Just... no.”
“I, uh… well...”
Regulus leaned back in his chair and motioned toward the door. “Thank you, Pettigrew. That will be all.”
Peter shot out of his seat so fast, Regulus was surprised he didn’t hurt himself. Reg waited for Peter to no longer be within viewing distance of his computer screen before he was clicking through to the online chess match’s chat log.
Reg1971: You bastard.
SillyPadfoot: What? You didn’t care for my move, baby bro?
Reg1971: How exactly did you get The Law Offices of Padfoot and Prongs on the Riddle case?
SillyPadfoot: Oh that?!!! What, you didn’t get the memo? I sent them all out via carrier owl.
Reg1971: Was the sarcasm really needed?
Silly Padfoot: Absolutely! And honestly, I thought you’d be excited, Reg. Don’t you think it’s about time we start playing some big boy chess?
Regulus gritted his teeth as he stared at his computer screen. Father would not be happy when he found out that one of the biggest cases of his firm’s career— one that was previously so open and shut it bordered on laughable— would now be a war between two brothers. He’d most definitely take Regulus off the case as soon as he heard about Sirius’s involvement. Which was why Regulus had no intention of telling his father about this new development until it was too late.
Regulus returned his fingers to the keyboard.
Reg1971: Game on.
SillyPadfoot: That’s what I thought. You can’t see me, but I’m winking at you. Haha!
“Bastard,” Regulus muttered again, shaking his head at his older brother’s antics. He exited out of the chess game with annoyance.
He had no time for silly games today. He had a war to prepare for.
***
Regulus’s father found out almost immediately about the new prosecution team and his estranged son’s involvement. But, as it turned out, Orion Black wasn’t the one who put Regulus on the Riddle case, as he’d previously thought. No, the chain of command went higher than Orion, though very few knew it.
For all intents and purposes, Arcturus Black was retired… until he decided to be otherwise.
Grandfather brushed nonexistent lint from the shoulders of Regulus’s suit jacket. “Be smart in there.”
“I will,” replied Regulus.
Arcturus had eyes of steel gray, the kind you couldn’t look away from even if you wanted to. Regulus was distinctly reminded of Sirius as his grandfather stared him down. “I’m serious.”
Regulus tried to keep the smile off his face. If Sirius were here, he’d make some silly pun that no one would laugh at. But Reg would be laughing on the inside.
“I will,” repeated Regulus.
“And I want you to think with this,” Grandfather added, gently punching his grandson in the stomach. “Your gut is important. Remember that.”
Reg’s courtroom specialty was being calm and collected in the face of incredible odds and to use his logic against his opponent’s opulence when swaying the jury. His grandfather was basically telling him to forget that and follow his instincts. Reg had never been good about following his instincts.
“I will… try,” indulged Regulus.
Arcturus smirked and slapped his grandson on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine.”
Regulus seemed less and less convinced of this by the second. Then, when Sirius arrived with his partner, James Potter, and legal researcher, Remus Lupin, flanking him on either side, Regulus felt all that insecurity dissipate in an instant. He always felt less alone when Sirius was there, even when they weren’t exactly on speaking terms… and were on opposite sides of a murder trial.
“Brother!” Sirius cheered, his leather briefcase slapping Regulus in the butt as he neared. “And Grandfather! Such a nice day for a family reunion, don’t you think?”
Remus smacked Sirius upside the head without glancing up from his iPhone. He must do it a lot to have such blind, but accurate, aim.
“Ow, Moony,” Sirius complained as he rubbed the back of his scalp with his free hand. “I wasn’t being sarcastic. Was that really needed?”
“Absolutely,” Remus grumbled.
Sirius snorted and Regulus felt a pang of jealousy in his chest that he promptly stamped down. Sirius returned his attention to Regulus and Arcturus. “Well,” he said, clapping his hands together with exuberance. “Let’s do this, shall we?” Sirius bid them farewell as he and his legal team entered the courtroom, leaving Regulus alone with his grandfather once more.
Regulus turned toward Arcturus. The older man smiled reassuringly. “Do what you feel is right. Always.”
Reg blinked at his grandfather’s words. Old age had made him… different.
“Okay.”
Arcturus Black smirked. “Okay. Get in there, son.”
***
“Objection.”
The word was out of Regulus’s mouth before he could even comprehend the meaning of it. He knew it fit; he knew it was what he should say as the defendant’s councilor when the prosecution was leading the witness.
But it wasn’t right. The things his client wrote in that diary found in the victim’s apartment… they weren’t right. Regulus was supposed to provide reasonable doubt for that diary being found at the scene. He was supposed to provide an alternate explanation, like that the victim had stolen it off his desk during class. He was supposed to explain Tom Riddle’s musings about talking snake demons and immortality as works of fiction— a well-written, almost poetic display of insight that one could find on any English professor’s bookshelf.
Unfortunately, Regulus was fairly certain that the handsome man sitting in the courtroom beside him killed his student, Myrtle Warren. Reg no longer felt comfortable arguing for this man who seemed to watch the proceedings with an air of casual disinterest hidden particularly well by a false sadness that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Still, when Judge Amelia Bones inquired the reason behind Regulus’s objection, he did his job. It was his job to provide alternate versions of the truth to the jury, to convince them of his client’s innocence.
But it wasn’t right.
“Leading the witness,” Regulus explained politely, even though his insides were in turmoil.
Judge Bones nodded her head and turned her attention to Sirius. “I agree. Councilor, I suggest you get to the point.”
Sirius looked from Bones to Regulus to the current witness in the stand, a young detective named Alice Longbottom who made the initial arrest after discovering the diary at the crime scene. Sirius then looked back at his team and then to the jury, a thoughtful expression on his face.
For the briefest of moments, Regulus could have sworn Sirius smirked in his direction one last time before he told the judge, “I think I’ve made my point, ma’am. The prosecution rests.”
Judge Bones nodded her head in acceptance as Sirius returned to his seat. Regulus could see James and Remus giving Sirius questionable looks as the man plopped down into his wooden chair. Reg’s brother simply shrugged, as if to say, he’d done all he could do… or all that he wanted to do. Regulus wondered what that was about.
“You have the floor, Mister Black— er… Mister R. Black.”
Regulus got up and no one could tell how badly his legs were shaking. He gave his speech, asked his questions, and no one could tell how dry his throat was. He did his job and no one could tell how terrified he was to return to his seat next to a murderer.
It wasn’t right, but he did it. Because what else could he do? It was his job.
***
The prosecution hadn’t provided enough evidence to convict Tom Riddle of murder yet. Some things that came up during the trial so far were circumspect and odd, but Riddle would surely go free if they weren’t able to connect him to the murder weapon. This evil man would go free if more evidence wasn’t discovered, and quickly.
Strangely enough, Regulus was pretty sure he had a picture of the smoking gun in his possession.
Tom Riddle Jr. had been a client of Black & Associates for over a decade, ever since he was accused of his grandfather’s murder when he was a young college student. Regulus remembered being a junior associate fresh out of law school at the time, of his father taking him up to the Riddle mansion where Tom was on house arrest, of visiting the old Gaunt house down the hill where the murder took place. He remembered liking Tom instantly, of being drawn in by his casual confidence and easy smile. The two young men had been close throughout the trial. Regulus might have even considered Tom a friend.
One night near the end of the Gaunt trial, Regulus was running on caffeine as he poured over the case in the Riddles’ study, and he found something unique in one of the desk drawers when looking for a new pen. The locket was ornate. It was octagonal in shape, bearing an instracte snake-like design in the amber jewel. Regulus had snapped a picture with his old blackberry to use as reference for a tattoo he wanted to get down the line… similar to the skull and snake tattoo he snuck a peek at on Tom’s forearm a few days before.
He’d never gotten the tattoo, but the picture should still exist since he transferred the photos on his blackberry to his computer before switching over to using the iPhone. Reg clicked through every folder on his computer to find it. When he did, he gasped out loud in the quiet, empty office. The chain matched the markings they found on Myrtle’s neck.
He knew it. He freaking knew it.
Regulus didn’t hesitate. He printed out the picture and mailed it anonymously to the Law Offices of Padfoot and Prongs. It felt right.
Two days later, the jury found Tom Riddle Jr. guilty of Myrtle Warren’s murder.
***
Regulus strolled through Central Park at a leisurely pace. He was still processing the results of the trial. He was still processing how he felt about his part in it. He was still—
Is that Sirius?
Strolling leisurely toward Reg from the opposite direction was indeed Sirius Black. When Sirius glanced up from the cobblestone and met Regulus’s gaze, they both halted in their tracks. They stood staring at each other for a long time, a good distance between them, like the only remaining pieces on a chessboard, like kings without their courts to fight for them.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Sirius smiled a devious smile and motioned toward a recently abandoned park chessboard, a suggestive quirk to his left eyebrow.
Regulus chewed back his own grin and shrugged his agreement, ambling his way toward the side with the black pieces and taking a seat in the old wooden chair. Sirius took up the spot across from him.
They spent some time in silence returning the pieces to their starting positions. Then Sirius moved one of his white pawns forward and Regulus mirrored him. They continued in this fashion for some time.
“Congratulations,” Regulus finally uttered as he moved his bishop to guard his king.
Sirius leaned back in his seat, that annoying smile of his still stretching his face, his arms crossed in front of his chest. When Sirius made no move to continue the chess game, Reg glanced up at his brother from his hunched-over position. He sighed and leaned back, unconsciously crossing his arms to match his brother’s posture. Regulus raised a mocking eyebrow.
Sirius tilted his head at his little brother in a studying manner, as if he were trying to parse something out… or he’d already parsed something out and wasn’t sure if he should bring it up.
“Thank you.”
Regulus had to think back to what he’d said previously that Sirius might be thanking him for. He’d simply offered congratulations. Reg supposed his brother could just be politely accepting his commendation.
But... this thank you felt more loaded than that. It felt special. It felt genuine. There was no hint of sarcasm in his tone. It was like he knew about Regulus’s part in taking down Riddle, like he was grateful to be on the same side as his little brother for the first time in their lives, like that had been his plan all along and he was glad to be proven right.
Regulus blinked.
“Was the lack of sarcasm in your tone really needed?” Regulus asked, attempting to goad his brother back to his sardonic ways. His heart suddenly felt too big for his chest, which was not a feeling he could identify the meaning of clearly, as he didn’t think he’d ever felt it before. It scared him a little.
But also... it delighted him.
Sirius’s gray eyes gleamed in the late afternoon sun. He smiled. “Absolutely.”
The two brothers stared at each other for a long, long time.
“Move your damn piece— “
“Come work with me— “
“What?”
“What?”
Regulus laughed because he didn’t know what else to do. Sirius had just asked— no, demanded— that Reg come work with him. Not for him. With him. And, absurdly, the first thing that popped into his head was, “But… I don’t have a silly nickname.”
Sirius leaned over the chessboard and picked up Regulus’s black knight. “I’ll come up with something. I’m thinking… something to do with horses.”
Regulus’s veins were suddenly flooded with emotion. It was white-hot and intense. His eyes burned and his throat was drier than the Sahara.
“That’s going to make for a terrible nickname,” Regulus managed to croak out.
Sirius grinned triumphantly. And Regulus couldn’t blame him. He was pretty sure he’d just agreed to leave Black & Associates and join Sirius and James’s law firm instead.
Sirius returned the black knight to its former position and moved his white queen. “Checkmate, baby bro.”
Regulus wiped his nose behind his suit jacket sleeve, examined the board, and sighed.
“Bastard.”