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Chapter Text

He was falling, falling, falling-

Memories flashed behind his eyes: a green light, the spider's silk softness of the veil, a scream wrenched out of a child's throat. Everything blurred together in those moments, his brain scrambling to put all the pieces in the right order to figure out what had happened. 

A non-existent wind was blowing through his hair. Whispers were all around him, but he couldn't make out a single word. Too many people were talking at once, and too many voices were overlapping. He opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) only to flinch and clench them shut once more, surrounded by blinding white. 

He took a breath and opened them again, only for the whispers to become screams—voices shouting, begging, and pleading—and yet there wasn't anything in sight—no other living thing that he could see. But then, there wouldn't be, would there? He knew, even now, that only one spell was that shade of toxic green. He would find no living things, not here. 

Not even he was alive anymore.

The screams got progressively more frantic, bordering on hysterical. He caught a word here or there of desperate begging, but nothing made sense. His hearing felt muffled somehow, as if his head were stuffed full of cotton. He couldn't understand anything; he didn't know what was happening or where he was. 

The voices got louder and louder, and until he covered his ears as much as he could, his eyes shut again. He hated shouting; he always hated shouting. He knew he hated shouting, but why? He didn't remember, and no matter how much he racked his head, he couldn't remember. Everything was fuzzy, like static. He was scared and frustrated, but mostly frustrated. 

He felt like a child, but he so desperately wanted the shouting to stop. He felt himself getting more and more overwhelmed, the voices talking over each other as fast as possible, overlapping, and the volume amplifying was driving him fucking insane, and he wasn't crazy; he had never been crazy, no matter how many had tried to make him like his family.

He wasn't like them; he refused to be like them-

He was good; he tried so hard to be good-

He didn't even notice he had begun spiraling until he was suddenly snapped out of it, landing gently on a solid surface after falling for who knows how long. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the blinding light that spread no matter where he looked. When he realized he wasn't alone anymore, two boys stood in front of a door. He didn't know who they were. That felt like a betrayal, somehow.

He looked at them, studying. They looked sad, both of them. One could be no older than eighteen or nineteen, a child still, and the other was at least twenty-two or twenty-three, though he could tell stress made him look older than he truly was.

The teenager had pale skin, black curly hair, and shining gray eyes. He had sharp features; his face was stoic and blank, but his eyes were what gave him away; they were full of tears. He wore a black suit and a black, hooded cloak. He looked at him and felt warm and loved under his intense gaze. 

The older one had messy jet-black hair and warm hazel eyes hidden behind round wire-framed glasses. His eyes were full of hurt and grief, yet there was still kindness in them, with laugh lines and smile wrinkles. He wore casual clothes, a blue sweater, and black pants. If he felt warm when watched by the younger one, he was bursting with the love in those brown eyes.

They had very little in common in terms of physical appearance, but both were looking at him with so much longing that his heart hurt. His heart longed for them too, and he didn't know why. But he missed them, he loved them, and he wanted to be with them even if they didn't yet want him.

As he looked at these two strangers, he felt like he should know who they were, but he had no memory of them, and he could tell they noticed. The twenty-something-year-old's smile didn't fall nor waver, but it looked to be weighed down with sadness, while the teenager's blank face didn't change, but his eyes looked more hurt.

He thought hard, looking at them as his mind ran a million miles a minute trying to put together who they were, to put names to faces. He knew these people; he was someone to them once, and they were the world to him. Why didn't he remember?

After what felt like hours, the older one spoke, making sure to keep his voice quiet and kind, as if talking to a frightened child. "Hey Pads, been a long time, hasn't it?" He said it with a teary laugh. He looked so happy and so devastated in unison; his voice was wet and fragile. His eyes were full of hope, though, and so bright.

Pads? Was that his name? He hadn't realized until then, but that was the most notable thing he'd forgotten: his own name. Pads didn't sound quite right, but it was a close thing.

The younger one nodded in agreement, his mask finally breaking away to reveal the tiniest of smiles, vulnerable and delicate. "James is right, brother. It has been quite a while, but unfortunately, you will not be joining us so soon. You have a long journey ahead of you yet." He said it teasingly, laughing a little. It was a nice sound, familiar, and comforting.

After a moment, the younger one continued gently. "We know you're confused; we know you don't know who we are, but we know you. Your name is Sirius Orion Black, our brother. The rest will come to you eventually." He said that, and he nodded slowly. Sirius sounded right; he didn't know how he knew, but he could feel it in his bones that it was right.

The white flickered around him, and all three looked around.

"We're running out of time. We gotta speed this up or he'll be stuck." James said, turning to look at the younger one, who nodded firmly, his face grim with all trace of his previous joy gone.

"We'll send you back shortly; we still have time, though not much. Please, Sirius, put a stop to him. End the war before it truly starts, because only then will we be at peace." His gray eyes were pleading with him, and despite not knowing who he was supposed to stop, Sirius nodded. He would do anything for these two, he knew. They were his family, his brothers, and he would do whatever they asked. "I'll do my best." He said that, and they both nodded. The older one looked contemplative for a long moment before he spoke, his face determined. His brown eyes bore into Sirius, his gaze heavy with guilt and regret. "We know you will; you always do. Just remember that your best is good enough, alright, Pads? Even when you don't feel like it, remember you're good enough." 

The younger one hesitantly stepped forward, towards Sirius. When he saw no anger on his face, he took another step, and another, and another, until he was less than a foot away. He took that final step and reached up, pulling Sirius' head down to touch their foreheads together. Sirius had nowhere else to look except into his little brother's eyes.

"Please avenge us. And when you come to the Veil for the second time, we will be here, waiting. We will wait for you for as long as it takes." He whispered, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Please, make us wait a long, long time before you return. You were always the best of us, Sirius. Live a good, long life for us." He pleaded, and Sirius could see his mask shatter, finally seeing the little boy he truly was. So young, so scared.

The third joined the two, pulling them into a tight hug as the white around them flickered again, more insistent. They were running out of time together, but Sirius found himself comforted by the fact that this wouldn't be the end and that he'd see them again.

"See you soon, Padfoot." He whispered, and Sirius looked up at them for the last time as he pulled away, taking a step back. He admired them and how strong they were in the face of the tragedy that was their lives. He took them in because it would be the last time he saw them as they were for a very long time, hopefully. Both stood tall and proud, James' hand on Regulus' shoulder, and they looked at him so sadly, but he could see pride in their eyes too. He was glad to have made them proud, despite the epic shitshow that his life had become since they'd both been gone.

"See you, Prongs, Reggie." He said, smiling back. Regulus didn't even look disgruntled at the nickname, a testament to how emotional his little brother must have been feeling in that moment; no matter how much Regulus had always loved him, he never let Sirius get away with calling him Reggie without some type of nasty look or funny expression, depending on their company. 

He felt himself fade away with one final smile, and he kept his eyes on them for as long as he could, savoring his final moments before he woke up wherever they'd send him; they had explained jack shit, and they could be sending him to Hell for all he knew, but they were his brothers, and he'd be damned if he didn't trust them with everything he had. At least Regulus wouldn't send him somewhere all that dangerous; James would probably push him down a flight of stairs for shits and giggles if Remus was at the bottom to catch him.

He could connect some dots, though, and he wouldn't be waking up in the Department of Mysteries. Most likely some type of time travel; James and Regulus were, individually, among the smartest people Sirius had ever met, but put together and desperate, he doubted there was anything they couldn't achieve.

Salazar, he loved his brothers. They never failed to amaze him.

With that thought, he lost consciousness and regained it a second later, his eyes shooting open and bolting upwards. He bit his tongue to muffle his gasp of shock and fear, looking around wildly before recognizing the curtains. He felt like he had been thrown into a bath of ice, leaving him frozen and stiff but with adrenaline running through his veins. He didn't know what would happen now, but something was going to go wrong soon. He wrenched his curtains open, looking around frantically, feeling hysterical, until he laid eyes on James. Remus and Peter also slept with their curtains closed, but James always ran hot, so he slept with his curtains open to let the breeze of the tower in; he was sprawled all over his bed like a starfish, his bedhead horrendous, and his snores quiet and constant.

As soon as Sirius laid eyes on his best friend, things went downhill.

Sirius let out a wet, teary chuckle as his mouth filled with the awful taste of copper and his eyes were filled with tears. His head felt like it was being sliced open slowly; memories he knew weren't his were invading his mind, and he brought a shaking fist up to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles to muffle the ensuing scream. The pain got worse every second, burning, burning, burning-

("You need to learn your lesson, Sirius. CRUCIO!")

("Hey Pads, been a long time, hasn't it?")

("Your name is Sirius Orion Black, our brother. The rest will come to you eventually.")

("You're just like the rest of your psycho family; I should have fucking known.")

He might've been begging for it to stop; his mother liked it when he begged. She said it made him look as pathetic as he truly was, and seeing him so broken made her feel more powerful. He hated it, but he would beg for hours if it meant everything would stop: the loud thuds, the sound of scrambling feet and things being thrown, the sounds of raised voices. He just wanted it to stop, he sobbed.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his body went limp.

Chapter Text

Remus woke up to a gasp that was not quite muffled, the scent of fear heavy in the air.

He felt a brief pang of regret before he remembered he was supposed to be mad at Sirius, not feel bad for him. Sirius had always been prone to nightmares; he'd had them almost every night for their first three years. Of course, he'd not actually told them that until their fourth year, when Remus had smelt blood and ripped open Sirius' curtains to see him clawing at his neck and thrashing around like he was being tortured. Even then, that night, he hadn't told them because he wanted to or because he trusted them; he told them because they all saw him in the midst of one, and he couldn't deny it or play stupid after the fact. 

He'd told them then that the nightmares were rare, occasional things. James tried to wake him up early the day after, and that was when they discovered the silencing charm he put around his bed every night.

The nightmares were not, in fact, a rare, occasional thing.

They were, in fact, a very regular, consistent thing.

But then again, Sirius was a master at deception at his core; he always had been. Evidently, he'd been better than Remus assumed, given the way he deceived all three of the other Marauders into believing that he could ever be anything besides like the rest of his family. Sirius himself had once said he was like an onion, covered in masks and layers.

The night they, Remus, James, and Peter, convinced Sirius to not put the charm up, no one slept. He instead put a silencing charm on their door and just went to sleep as usual. The screams, the begs, the pleads—it was all simultaneously heart-wrenching and blood-curdling to hear, and it was for hours on end. Remus didn't know how Sirius hadn't screamed himself hoarse; it had been one of the scariest nights of his life, honestly. He remembered so vividly how he had curled up as small as he could, quite a feat with his long, gangly limbs, and just cried his eyes out all night; the screams reminded him of his agonizing monthly transformations, how he screamed as his bones shattered and re-shaped themselves, how he used to beg until his voice was gone for the pain to just stop.

The next morning, Sirius had acted perfectly normal; he didn't seem tired nor did he act out of character at all, and the realization that he acted so normal was because the nightmares were his normal. On top of the lack of sleep, the screams ringing in his ears and the flashbacks triggered by the aforementioned screams had Remus bolting out of class and puking his guts out in the hallway, tears streaming down his face. 

For about a week afterwards, all he could imagine was what could have caused his dear friend so much pain; the what-ifs and possibilities caused his own nightmares, and despite no one saying a word of complaint, Sirius put the silencing charm back up as the other three Marauders looked more and more exhausted each day from the lack of sleep. 

Even after the charm went back up, Remus couldn't sleep. The guilt of Sirius feeling bad for his own nightmares kept him up. 

They had actually had a good conversation about it, all four of them. Remus and James had both apologized to Sirius, who in turn had explained that his nightmares were perfectly normal for him and he'd long-since learned to function with them, so him keeping them awake served no purpose when the only helpful thing they could do was wake him up, which would most certainly lead to bodily injury befalling the unlucky boy, and that there was no reason for him to keep the other three up when he could handle them on his own.

It had been a lengthy and emotional discussion, but it did clear the air some, and Remus remembered sleeping better that night than he had in months; shitty sleep for almost four weeks straight on top of emotional exhaustion had him knocked out for a solid 17 hours.

But one thing he'd never told James or Peter, and much less Sirius, was that those screams still rang in his ears two years later.

Remus scrambled out of bed when he heard a poorly suppressed scream. Sirius' screams rang around his head constantly, so he knew what they sounded like; the one he just heard was not of fear but of pain. And no matter how much he pretended to hate Sirius (he could never truly hate him, not after all the good he'd done), Remus would never forgive himself if he let a person suffer when he could have helped.

He looked to the bed directly across his and saw the curtains drawn; there was a single, pale hand hanging off the edge of the bed. He shuddered before he looked around. Peter was peeking his head out from his curtains, sluggishly rubbing his eyes, and James was blearily lifting his head. They both had heightened senses; it came with the territory of being an animagus, but it was entirely possible they didn't know what exactly had woken them.

When the stench of blood hit all their nostrils, they were all wide awake. Remus lunged for Sirius' bed, throwing open his curtains and almost ripping the curtain rod down in the process, staring in horror at the sight of his friend thrashing in pain, eyes clenched shut, fist firmly in his mouth to silence himself. His back was arching off the bed in agony, tears and blood streaming down his face.

James turned on the light in their room, and Remus hissed when he got a better look at Sirius, who was paler than usual. His front was covered in blood, and Remus could see that it wasn't coming from just his nose; he could see some leaking out from around his fist, drenching his shirt. He had dark circles under his eyes, dark enough to look like bruises, and overall, he looked like he was about to kneel over and die. 

It was a terrifying sight.

James sprung into action immediately, turning the Black on his side so he wouldn't choke on his own blood, while Peter rushed to his trunk and came back with a flashlight to check his pupils. As soon as James touched him, Sirius screamed again, biting down on his fist hard enough for something to crack. Remus was careful and tentative as he climbed over his friend to gently pry his fist out of his mouth, and he immediately wished he hadn't.

"No, no, no! Please,'m ss'rry! Make it stop, 'm s'rry, please, please, please, I'll be good, I can be so good, 'm s'rry-." He babbled mindlessly; his words were slurred and his voice was hoarse, full of so much terror that Remus felt sick to his stomach. 

Peter came back with the flashlight, and Remus oh so gently pried Sirius' eyes open, but his pupils didn't respond at all, and that was when the panic truly started to set in. James, ever the leader, started barking out orders immediately, and the feeling of having something to do—a purpose—reassured Remus.

"Okay, Peter, go alert Madam Pomfrey that Sirius is hurt; we don't know the cause; definitely some type of head injury, unresponsive, dilated pupils that don't react to light, unexplained bleeding from the nose and mouth. We can't risk moving him if we don't know what's wrong. Remus, get Regulus; maybe he knows something, and even if he doesn't, he should still know something's up. I'll stay to monitor his condition." James said firmly, his voice and tone leaving no room for argument. Remus scrambled off the bed immediately, making sure to not so much as brush against his dear friend, no matter how much he wanted to, in case it only caused him more pain.

Just as he got off the bed, Sirius went limp. His begging cut off, his muscles went lax, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he was out cold.

Remus' heart almost stopped right then and there, dropping out of his ass. He scrambled back onto the bed and grabbed Sirius' wrist, feeling around for a pulse. When he found it, his knees went weak in relief before concern set in again. The pulse was there—steady but alarmingly slow. Remus threw himself off the bed and didn't even bother with the cloak or map; he just started running.

He reached the Slytherin common room in record time, ten minutes later. Remus gave himself a minute to catch his breath before he muttered the password and quietly crept into the common room in search of the fifth-year boy's rooms. He'd been in the common room before, a handful of times, but never beyond it.

It took what felt like forever, after peeking his head into what must have been a million different rooms, but eventually he found the one Regulus Black resided in. Remus took another breath to calm his racing heart before he crept in, making sure not to make a single sound. His heart was still pounding so rapidly he was sure it would explode, but he needed to reach Regulus before that; no matter how much Sirius had tried to deny it, he'd always adored his little brother, and Remus could always see that it was mutual. Regulus never looked as relaxed around anyone else as he did around Sirius, which was basically the Black family's equivalent of a neon rainbow billboard with flashing lights declaring his love for his brother.

If Sirius died and Regulus didn't even get to say goodbye...

Godric, Remus felt fucking sick. He didn't know where exactly that thought had come from, but as he tiptoed with all the grace he'd carefully cultivated over the course of the last six years, he realized that's what he'd been thinking since he noticed the blood. 

As soon as Sirius started bleeding out of nowhere, that's what his first thought was. No wonder Remus felt so frantic and hysterical. 

Before he could continue down that train of thought, he reached Regulus' bed and almost reached out to shake him before he realized what a horrible idea that was. But he noticed the younger Black's eyes were already open and trained on him. Likely had been since the moment he entered the room. And Remus hadn't even realized. He nodded towards the door, the grim look on his face conveying the seriousness of the situation. 

They weren't friends, Remus and Regulus, but they weren't enemies. They got along well enough, and Remus would even say he trusted Regulus to a certain extent; now was the moment where he'd find out if the feeling was mutual or not.

His heart pounded faster, and he felt bile rise in his throat. Remus clenched his eyes shut, fighting back tears for a moment, before he opened them again to see Regulus studying him. Remus shot him a pleading look, and finally, finally, Regulus nodded and climbed out of his bed gracefully. Remus didn't hesitate; he just grabbed his wrist and bolted. Regulus flinched against him but didn't fight back, and Remus didn't say a word until they were out of the common room and into the dungeons, where he bent over and took large, gasping breaths for a moment before he turned to look at his friend's little brother, who was looking back at him so warily.

He'd been leaning against the wall, but he took three steps forward menacingly and got in Remus' face, his eyes flashing just like his older brother's. Remus let a tear fall. "What is the meaning of this, Lupin? Do you know how stupid it was to walk straight into the snake pit like that? Anyone could have seen you; you could have gotten hurt." Regulus hissed, and Remus cut him off. "It's Sirius. Something is horribly, horribly wrong with Sirius." He choked out, his words wet and shaky.

The younger boy stopped suddenly and just froze in his tracks. His eyes went just the slightest bit wider, and he took a hesitant step back. "W-what?" He said, and for a moment, Remus saw Regulus as the little kid he truly was instead of the imposing figure he tried to make himself look like. 

"He woke up screaming again, but he was in pain. Bleeding from the nose and mouth, dilated pupils that didn't react to light, unresponsive, he was writhing around like he was being tortured before he just suddenly lost consciousness. We don't know what's going on, but you're his brother, and you deserve to know. We didn't think it was safe to move him, so Peter went ahead to get Madam Pomfrey and bring her to the dorm, but she could have moved him; she would have known how to do it safely." He said it quickly, forcing the words out from behind the lump of guilt and grief in his throat.

Regulus looked horrified, and Remus felt so bad for him but knew that he couldn't comfort him; the other boy would never let him. Only Sirius was allowed, but Sirius was unavailable at the moment.

But Remus was trusted with the privilege to watch Regulus take a moment to compose himself, steeling his nerves before he met Remus' eyes with a fierce determination and a desperation that seemed to run in the family.

"Okay, where are they most likely to be? I don't want to waste any more time." He said firmly, and Remus nodded. "The Infirmary first, then, is where Ms. Poppy has all of her things and would feel most comfortable treating him." He said it and barely finished saying before Regulus took off in a dead sprint.

Remus sighed, took another deep breath, and ran off after him.

Chapter Text

Regulus' feelings towards his brother were not easy to describe. 

He felt betrayed by his brother's sorting, felt abandoned because Sirius had new friends, felt hurt that his brother so avidly hated the beliefs they had been raised with. But he understood why, of course. He'd seen how Sirius had been treated; he understood his brother only distanced himself to protect himself and to become his own person, which Regulus was proud about. He only wished he could still be in his brother's life.

Despite his complicated feelings surrounding Sirius, they were still brothers. Regulus would do anything for his brother. So when Lupin came to his room, when he walked right into the snake's den just to let Regulus know something was wrong with Sirius, he knew something was wrong with Sirius. Lupin was level-headed; he was calm and collected where James, Peter, and Sirius were not. To see even him so shaken scared Regulus more than almost anything.

Which is why Regulus found himself sprinting through Hogwarts at Too Early For This AM, but he didn't care about how tried he'd feel in the morning, not with adrenaline coursing through his veins and terror seizing his heart. Because his brother was strong—stronger than anyone gave him credit for. He was a fighter; yes, he was clever; yes, but he was tolerant above all. Welburga made sure her sons would not falter under pain, under torture.

So what had made Sirius falter now? What injury was that extreme?

His mind raced as he ran, vaguely aware of Lupin at his heels. He didn't stop, didn't turn back, didn't care about what happened around him. The world could have imploded during those too-long minutes of running, and Regulus would only have cared about his brother.

Finally, the large, thick doors of the Infirmary came into sight, looming above the two teens, and Regulus did not falter; he only ran faster. He threw the doors open, his heart pounding out of his chest, and he saw Potter and Pettigrew's heads shoot up to look at him and Lupin, Madam Pomfrey, rushing around the room. If even the unflappable Madam Pomfrey was panicked, what had happened?

Potter and Pettigrew stood over a bed, and for the first time of the night, Regulus hesitated before he slowly began walking towards it, afraid of what he might see but steeling his nerves because it was Sirius on that bed, his brother, and he had never needed to fear his brother. So with his heart in his throat, Regulus walks until he's standing before the foot of the bed, staring blankly down at the limp form of his older brother. Pale, covered in drying blood, lifeless and small.

That did not look like Sirius, was Regulus' first thought.

Surely there was a mistake, because that was not his brother. This husk on the bed could not be the boy Regulus looked up to. Could not be the heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Could not be the boy who stood between Regulus and their mother on more than one occasion, taking a punishment he had not earned to spare Regulus the pain and scars their mother so joyfully inflicted. 

This was not his brother. This could not be his brother.

Regulus, he'd been watching. Sirius was alone constantly; no one spoke to him or approached him; he was always alone. His brother didn't like being alone, and he could be impulsive or reckless often times, so Regulus watched to make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

He hadn't been eating much, definitely not enough for someone who pushed himself as hard as Sirius did; being one of the best spellcasters and fighters in Hogwarts across all seven years was no easy feat. Spellcasting, especially wordless and wandless like Sirius was capable of, burned off a lot of calories and energy. He'd been eating, but not enough. He wasn't resting enough either, but it was something seemingly only he noticed. Sirius never allowed himself to be tired enough to be slow or sluggish—a lesson their mother had beaten into him more than once. He wasn't doing great, but he also wasn't overly unhealthy. Not enough for whatever the fuck happened to be natural, that is.

Poison was Regulus' next thought. Had someone done this to him? But Sirius, though he played himself out to be a fool, was anything but. No, he would ever have allowed another to do this to him. Regulus refused to consider the other option.

Madam Pomfrey rested a hand on his shoulder, the look on her face grim. Lupin joined his friends at the side of the bed; Regulus remained at the foot. "What-" his voice cracks, and he clears it hastily. No one looks at him, though. 

"What's wrong with him?" He asks, and his voice comes out soft, but his heart was pounding too loudly in his chest for him to care. Potter, Pettigew, and Lupin all looked too out of it to even process his break in composure, so it didn't matter.

Madam Pomfrey squeezed his shoulder, and that's how he knew the news they're about to be told would gut him. Because Madam Pomfrey is not known for comfort. She's known for being strict and a hardass (said fondly), which isn't to say she's unkind. But she doesn't often comfort her patients, unless something is horribly wrong. What is wrong with his brother? 

A coma, Madam Pomfrey said solemnly. James heard her muffled words through the cotton stuffed in his ears. 

Mysterious, with seemingly no cause and no end. There was nothing she could do, she said regretfully. James could hardly hear her, leaning against Peter for support. What...what had Sirius done? He asked himself, horrified. Because Sirisu was a shadow, a husk these days, but he wasn’t weak. He wouldn’t let himself be hurt this badly. Or cursed, because there weren’t any physical wounds.

James knew the Blacks made their own spells and potions. The darkest kinds of magic, the kinds they keep under lock and key. Had...had he done this to himself? 

Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and James could only blurt out a brief warning before he turned to the side, doubled over, and threw up everything in his stomach and then some. He fell to his knees in surprise, and someone was rubbing his back as he dry-heaved. A hand was running through his hair, and someone had taken his glasses so they wouldn’t fall, and the acts of kindness only made him cry harder. 

Madam Pomfrey handed a potion to Remus, he saw out of the corner of his eye. A calming drought most likely, he faintly registered. Remus all but shoved it down his throat, and James felt the effects immediately. He leaned back, taking deep breaths. 

He looked up and blinked several times, willing the tears away. The figure above him, who’d been rubbing his back, had a mop of black hair and sharp features—Regulus, no doubt. When had he moved? James was mildly surprised that the Slytherin willingly comforted him. Peter had taken his glasses, was holding them gently in his hand, and Remus was the one who’d been running a hand through his hair, and also wordlessly made the mess disappear.

He wanted to cry again, because this wasn’t the fucking time for him to have a breakdown. He wasn’t the only one whose world had been turned upside down, and he was making it all about him when they should all be focusing on Sirius-

The tears weren’t going away, and an ugly sob was wrenched from his throat. “I’m sorry.” He whispers hoarsely up to Regulus because he was the one who yelled at Sirius that night after the ‘prank’. He was the one who pushed him away; he was the one who berated him and ignored him and got the others to ignore him too. And if Sirius had, and James’ stomach lurched at the thought, hurt himself on purpose, it was because of his own actions. 

He wanted to beg his best friend for forgiveness because he never could have imagined this would happen. He was hurt, and he was angry, and he’d been petty, and this was the consequence. Currently, none deserved an apology more than Regulus. The Slytherin had been venomous to him since their very first interaction, hissing that James had stolen his brother. Now, he really had. 

Regulus says nothing, turning away. His gaze passes over Sirius, pale and limp and lifeless on the bed, and goes to the wall instead. Blind as he was without his glasses, James still saw his lip quiver. And it felt like he’d been kicked by a centaur right in the stomach. 

Peter gently slips his glasses back onto his face, and he shouldn’t have done that because James can see now, crystal clear. So he can see Remus’ glassy, red-rimmed eyes and how he’s biting his lip so hard he’s about to break skin, likely to swallow down his own sobs. He had wanted to hear Sirius out that night. Remus had wanted to talk to him, though the hurt and betrayal he felt, to hear both sides of the story. James had insisted that Remus stay as far away from - from the traitor. Remus had wanted desperately to forgive Sirius, but James had insisted against it.

James told him not to. Told him Sirius was a traitor just like the rest of his family. And without the Marauders, Sirius had no one. And James, he’d known but he hadn’t thought, and Sirius hates being alone. James had sentenced him to that. 

This was all his fault.

Even Peter isn’t unaffected. Remus is kneeling in front of James, and Peter is trembling faintly, his legs pressed up against Remus’ side. Madam Pomfrey is looking at them with utter devastation in her eyes—a heartbreak he hadn’t seen in months. “I’m sorry.” He whispers again, not to anyone in particular. To the universe, maybe. His voice breaks, and another sob is ripped out, straight from his chest.

No one responds. Regulus’ hand migrates to his shoulder and squeezes tightly. In comfort or reprimand, James doesn’t know.

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since Sirius fell into a coma and James was falling apart, no matter how hard Peter and Remus tried to hold him together. And they shouldn't have to. They were supposed to be his friends, not his caregivers, but James felt so fucking out of it that he could hardly keep himself going, and they were picking up that slack, and it made him feel worse. He was just dragging them down, but no matter how much he tried to tell them this or cut them loose or push them away, his wonderful, stubborn, foolish friends just continued helping him, continued loving him, continued caring for him no matter how undeserving James was.

James wanted to retreat into himself in the days following Sirius'...accident. He wanted to hide away, guilt and shame eating him alive. But Remus and Peter refused to allow him that. Remus clung to him so tightly, digging his claws into James’ shirt and skin so hard he could be pried off only with force, and Peter tried to feed him because James couldn’t even do that anymore. 

Every mealtime, he would slowly, wordlessly add a little more food onto James' plate—an extra roll, a small bowl of soup, or another portion of eggs. He would look at James with his wide, worried eyes and nudge his plate closer to him, and James tried to eat just to save Peter more hurt, but he felt so fucking sick all the time now that the thought of eating made him nauseous.

He hardly felt like a person anymore, instead feeling more like a ghost haunting his body. Some days, he just didn't have the energy to get out of bed, eat, or even talk. Some days, he felt more like an outsider watching in from a window as his body went about doing his routine. Some days he felt like nothing was worth the effort anymore and that everyone hated him for what he had done. And he knew they did; they had to. 

Regulus, on the rare occasion James caught a glimpse of him, refused to meet his eye. Couldn't even stand to look at him anymore, and James couldn't blame him. The teachers, they looked at him with so much pity, and people always gave him a wide berth in the hallways.

No one knew what happened, really, but the rumor mill at Hogwarts was nothing short of vicious. The rumors flying where that James was the one to hurt Sirius so badly he had to be sent to St. Mungos, when in reality he’s there for long-term care.

Maybe James didn’t raise a hand to Sirius, but it was still his fault. Because if he hadn't pushed Sirius away as harshly as he had, if he'd allowed Remus to speak with him, if he hadn't done everything in his power to ostracize him, then Sirius would still be here. He'd be walking with them to class and planning mischief and laughing. He'd be awake and bright and loud like he used to be. 

Remus was vehement in shutting James down whenever he voiced that, though. The werewolf was more feral these days, all growls and barely-veiled rage. Sometimes, James looked at him and didn't know if he was talking to Remus or Moony, and the only one who seemed to realize it too was Peter. 

James wished he knew what was going on with his taller friend, but Remus was more of a stone wall now. He was irritated often, and sometimes his words came out harsher than intended or his words had more bite than usual, but then he would soften and cling to James, nuzzling into the underside of his jaw in a movement he recognized as scenting. He'd be cold during the day, and then the sun would go down, and he would drag Peter and James into his bed, holding them so close that it was hard to tell when one boy ended and the next began. Moony held them so tight that they were completely interwoven together; impossible to pull apart, impossible to separate. 

And then they would all fall asleep too late and wake up too early. Moony would whine sometimes at night as he started longingly, mournfully at Sirius' bed. James pretended not to hear, and in turn Peter pretended not to hear James' sniffling. 

Another thing that had drastically changed in the last two weeks was that James wasn't able to look at himself anymore; he refused to look in a mirror to see the husk he'd become. Because that, becoming this empty thing wearing his skin, it was a punishment. A well-earned one, because wasn't this the fate he'd forced onto Sirius? This was a taste of his own medicine. This was how Sirius had felt, wasn’t it? This fucking empty? James felt as though someone had hollowed out his abdomen, removed the bones and organs, muscles, and blood. He felt like a puppet wandering around, held up only by thin, frayed strings, moments away from snapping. 

He really did feel empty, unaware of his own body. Because on night fifteen after Sirius' injury, he was changing into his sleepwear when he caught a glimpse of his stomach and realized he could almost count his ribs. When had that happened? He'd been eating, hadn't he?

Peter glanced at him before looking away, but James saw his worried, frightened eyes. He felt a little more aware at that moment, and he felt confused. He hadn’t been eating much; he knew that. And he threw up sometimes, but not...not often enough for this. He had always been on the leaner side, having more muscle than body fat, and his ribs weren’t entirely visible, but definitely more visible than they’d ever been.

He was understanding a little more why Remus refused to let him out of his sight now. 

James felt sick to his stomach as he finally realized that for the past two weeks, he’d been comparing the changes in his behavior to the changes Sirius underwent after he was shunned. Yes, he was aware of that. But the one thing he hadn’t realized, the one thing he hadn’t thought about, was that his friends were scared he would do the same thing Sirius had done. 

The sleepless nights and empty plates, the silence and the lack of energy, the zoning out—Sirius had done all of that. Only, it was a slow process stretched out over the course of a month and a half, and James had done it all in two weeks. Remus and Peter, the teachers too, had all drawn the conclusion that James hadn't. James, out of guilt for what he had done, had inadvertently set himself on the same path Sirius had gone down. And they were worried he would end up doing what he did. 

“Oh.” He breathes out softly, staring down at his body. His voice was quiet and soft, a little hoarse. He hadn’t spoken much that day, so when he did, Peter looked at him again, worried and confused. 

James just dropped his shirt and pulled Peter into a hug. The first hug he’d initiated in two weeks, without Remus all but forcing him to partake in physical affection. And Peter, shy and reserved Peter, positively melted into the embrace. He wrapped his arms around James tightly, clinging to the Potter and burying his face into the crook of James’ neck. 

“Pete, I didn’t... I didn't realize.” He whispers softly, and Peter’s breath hitches for a moment before the smaller boy starts crying, hot tears leaking out of the corners of his clenched-shut eyes. “It was scary.” Peter whispers, his voice rough. “We know that you feel guilty, James; we understand, but it was bloody terrifying seeing you like that. We thought-” His words get progressively more choked up until Peter can’t speak anymore, shaking his head instead. 

A warm body drapes itself behind James, another head coming to rest on his shoulder as long arms wrap around him. “Moony’s been going crazy.” Remus admits, his voice quite as a whisper. “Sirius’ scent is fading, and it’s stressing him out. He doesn’t…he doesn’t really understand what’s wrong with him, thinks he’s dead. So for both of us to see you act so much like he did..." Remus trails off, and James sighs, relaxing more into the embrace. 

“I had no idea, Rem, honest. I wasn’t going to-” He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He takes a deep breath before trying again. “I know I've been... a little sick these past two weeks.” He murmurs. “But I would never do anything like that. I would never h-hurt myself, not on purpose. I just, I didn’t realize how bad I had gotten.”

Remus nods against his shoulder. “We figured. James, you... you do know that what you’ve been experiencing is depression, right?” He says it gently, a little hesitant. James tenses a little before forcing himself to relax when Peter’s arms tighten around his waist. Instead, he tries to laugh it off, but then Remus’ arms tighten around him. “It’s not funny, James.” He almost hisses.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve never experienced depression before; I've never seen it before Sirius.” He sighs. “I’m not trying to diminish your worries or anything, I promise. But isn’t that a little extreme?” He tries not to sound awkward.

“You’ve lost what must be eight pounds in two weeks, James. I don’t think I need to tell you how bad that is.” Remus retorts, sharper than intended. And he’s right, he doesn’t need to remind James how unhealthy that is; his mother is a healer, so he’s well aware already. He stays silent for a moment before speaking, his words slow and measured. “I’ve lost my appetite, is all. And Rem, it’s not that I haven’t been eating as a-a punishment, if that’s what you think. I’ve been feeling nauseous.” 

James isn’t even necessarily trying to defend his actions. He’s trying to explain them the best he can when he, himself, hardly understands his recent behaviors. He hasn’t spoken to his mom about it, much less his dad; he wanted to spare them the worry. But they deserved to know if his friends have been worried for half a month that James would do something drastic. He would like to at least speak with his mom to learn if this actually was depression. 

He didn’t think it was, but for his friend’s peace of mind, he’d ask. 

No other words are shared for several long moments before James sighs. “We should go to sleep.” He murmurs quietly. “The full moon’s a week away; we need all the rest we can get.” Moony hadn’t taken the last full moon well; Prongs and Wormtail had to overcompensate for Padfoot, and both were dead on their feet before the sun rose. They would have to do it again this month, and it would be worse.

Last month, at least Moony knew Padfoot was alive, just gone. But now he thinks a packmate is dead. Werewolves are notoriously possessive and protective over their packmates, especially those they perceive as weaker, like a stag, a rat, and a grim. 

Peter slowly pulls away, and Remus follows suit, though begrudgingly. James, once freed, picks up his fallen shirt and slips it on over his head before plopping down onto Remus’ bed and waiting for the other two to finish changing; for once, accepting his fate instead of having to be herded. Once Peter is dressed, Moony quickly herds him towards the bed and arranges them until he’s happy, before he settles down too.

For once, James fell asleep quickly. He dreamed of a black-haired, gray-eyed boy, hurt and alone and calling for help that would never come.

Chapter Text

As soon as the last class of the day is over, Regulus briskly stalks out of the room and beelines towards the Infirmary. He doesn't go to the Great Hall; he could just sneak into the kitchens later when he gets hungry. Since the night Sirius was hospitalized, Regulus has gone to Saint Mungo's nightly to visit his brother. He visited Sirius while his elder brother was under Madam Pomfrey's care, but since he was moved to Saint Mungo's for long-term care last week, Regulus got permission from his Head of House, Slughorn, and from Dumbledore to go to Saint Mungo's after classes and on weekends. 

Slughorn is spineless and a boot-kisser, so he'd almost bent over backwards as soon as Regulus had made the request, but Dumbledore was harder to convince. He agreed quickly when he realized he couldn't actually stop Regulus from leaving the grounds, and if he tried, then Regulus would happily transfer and take his three cousins with them; and where the Blacks went, many other pure-blood families followed. Watching the old man flounder and attempt to save face was almost amusing, and Regulus would have found it funny in any other situation, but he couldn't find laughter in anything nowadays.

At the end of each day, he would go to the Infirmary and from there, apparate to Saint Mungo's under Madam Pomfrey's supervision, stay with Sirius for a few hours, and then he'd return to Hogwarts just before curfew. This had been his routine for the last week and was not that different from his routine during the week Sirius was under Madam Pomfrey's care. But his routine was thrown off when he saw a figure leaning against the wall by the Infirmary doors.

He recognized her very quickly by the white hair streaked with black. "Cissa." He greeted with a short nod of his head. She looked up from where she'd been looking at her nails. "Reggie." She said it with the same bland tone Regulus had become accustomed to. "What brings you here?" He asked, trying to sound polite and not terse, anxious to see Sirius. In two weeks, there had been no change in condition, but Regulus had never, not once, lost hope in his brother, and that would not change now. Sirius would wake up; it was only a matter of time. 

"Sirius has been gone for weeks, with rumors that Potter's the reason he got sent to Saint Mungo's. What really happened, Regulus?" Narcissa asked in that same bland tone, but Regulus could see her dark eyes marginally soften. Internally, Regulus felt conflicted, but Narcissa had ultimately been a trustworthy figure. She was betrothed and set to marry as soon as she graduated, so her loyalties had shifted to seemingly prioritize the Malfoys, the family she'd marry into, but Regulus had hoped she would put the Blacks above all; it was what he, his brother, and his cousins had been raised to do. To serve their family, the Ancient and Noble House of Black. 

"Come with me, then. I was just on my way to visit Sirius." He sighs, pushing open the large Infirmary doors; Narcissa follows wordlessly. 

Inside, Madam Pomfrey was already waiting for him. She hardly seemed shocked when she saw Narcissa, but she did not protest; Regulus would go see his brother, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him; he could apparate without supervision; he only came to her as a courtesy. He took Narcissa's hand, and with a pop they were both in Sirius' room at Saint Mungo's. 

Sirius looked better than he had two weeks ago; that much was true. But besides that, there was virtually no progress; he showed no signs of waking anytime soon, and no one had pinpointed the cause of this sudden coma. As far as any witch or wizard could tell, this was spontaneous and unprompted. 

Narcissa sucks in a sharp breath when she sees Sirius. Regulus pays her no mind as he puts his bookbag on one of the visitor's chairs and takes his seat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through Sirius's hair. Regulus hummed as he made a mental note to bring a brush tomorrow; Sirius's hair was beginning to get tangled, and his brother would have hated that. "No one knows why he's like this." Regulus admits softly, quietly. There's no other sound in the room, so Narcissa hears him clearly despite his words being hardly louder than a whisper. "The running theory is that this is somehow...self-inflicted." Regulus chokes the words out, no longer having the energy to pretend to be strong. Narcissa is the third last person who would judge him for loving his brother so much it made him weak. "You know the type of magic we're capable of, Cissa." He added.

When he looked up at her, Narcissa's carefully constructed mask was broken. It was only the three of them in the room, after all. No one was there to judge her, so she allowed her emotions to show; a dainty hand came up to cover her mouth, eyes wide and hurt. "He...he did this to himself?" She asked softly, an undercurrent of pleading in her voice. Pleading for this to not be true. "Reggie, what happened?" She demanded, getting misty-eyed. 

"Sit down. This will make you angry." He murmurs, nodding towards the foot of the bed. Narcissa walks over and sits where he nodded towards, resting her hand on Sirius's ankle, her thumb subconsciously rubbing circles into the blanket. "From what I've gathered, Severus got Siri to tell him something very personal about either Potter or Lupin; I'm unsure which one. The Marauders were livid with Siri for the perceived betrayal and just...abandoned him. They knew they were all he had since Potter was the one Siri went to when he ran away, and they just abandoned him like nothing." Regulus murmurs quietly, trying not to get angry himself. "Siri started getting worse, you know how. You've seen it." When he got so upset he couldn't get out of bed for days, when he couldn't eat, when he could barely take care of himself.

These episodes happened to Bellatrix too; Bellatrix, who would be borderline manic, bouncing around joyfully and like she was on top of the world for days, even weeks, before she crashed hard. The shared episodes had allowed Bellatrix and Sirius to form an odd bond that no one else truly understood, but he knew Sirius hated Bellatrix far less than he pretended to, and even Bellatrix would use less cruel hexes whenever she attacked Sirius. They were soft to each other in a way only the Black family could see. Their softness was far different from everyone else's softness.  Narcissa nodded slightly as Regulus explained, grip tightening on Sirius's ankle. 

"They saw him getting worse and did nothing. They kept him isolated, which only made everything worse. And then one night Lupin sneaks into the Slytherin common room, sneaks into my room to fetch me, and all he'll tell me is that something happened to Sirius but can hardly tell me what. By the time we got to the Infirmary, Madam Pomfrey already had the diagnosis: a coma without cause. After a week of no progress, he was transferred here." Regulus concludes. 

Narcissa does look quietly angry, her nails digging into the blanket covering Sirius's ankle like talons. "Is that so?" She asks curtly. When she looks back at Sirius, though, she softens again. Her grip loosens, and she massages the area where her nails were digging through the fabric and into Sirius's skin. "Could I...bring Bella and Andy?" Narcissa asks after a moment, meeting Regulus's eyes. "They miss him. They would like to see him." She added after a moment. 

The dynamics within the Black family were complex, but Regulus knew Narcissa would not lie to him, not here in such a vulnerable space. If she said her sisters missed his brother, she meant it. And if Bellatrix herself has expressed that she missed Sirius, she meant it. She would not hurt him when he was already in this condition. 

"They are welcome." Regulus murmurs with a soft sigh. "I come daily, right after the final class of the day. Any evening they are free, they are welcome to visit." Narcissa gives him a small smile, reaching out with her free hand to take his free hand. This is the closest he's felt to his cousin in quite some time, and he's glad that despite everything that has happened, despite Sirius being burned off the family tree, she still loves him. Bellatrix still loves him as much as Bellatrix can love anyone. There was never any doubt that Andromeda still loved Sirius, but it soothed something unruly in Regulus's soul at the confirmation Narcissa and Bellatrix still cared. 

"I'll go now to tell Bella and Andy the news and to leave you with Sirius. Tomorrow evening, the three of us will join you." She says softly, standing. Narcissa dusts nonexistent dust from her skirt before stepping forward to run a hand through Regulus's wavy hair. "I will see you tomorrow, cousin." She murmurs gently, looking more like the girl Regulus grew up with and less like the frigid figure she had become. 

Narcissa goes to the center of the room, and with a loud POP she's gone, appearing back in the Infirmary. Regulus stays where he is, running a soft hand through his brother's hair as he hums.

"When the night is falling and you've lost your way," Regulus begins, his voice low and soft. He had not sung in years before this incident, but Sirius would sing lullabies to him nearly nightly for the majority of his childhood. Regulus, in the last two weeks, had been doing his best to return the favor. He'd been doing his best to ensure that Sirius's sleep remained restful, sometimes embedding an undertone of magic into his songs to soothe his rest. This song was one he knew by heart, his favorite of Sirius's lullabies. "When the rain is storming...and your world's turns to gray...when the world's a wait outside, and you feel like, you've nowhere to hide..."

He continues to run his hand through Sirius's soft hair, gently untangling any knots he comes across. "Don't you worry, just remember...remember when I said...darling close your wary eyes...everything will be fine...let the breeze wipe away your tears...there's no need to cry..." Sirius's face doesn't change at all. He's hardly moved at all, no life except for the steady rise and fall of his chest and the occasional twitch. "You can lay down...no one will hurt you...let your fears be carried by the stream. The twilight gleams which over you...let this lullaby, guide your dreams...then when the morning arises I shall be by, your side...When the seedlings turns to trees...and bridges turn to dust...when the Sun rays seem to freeze...and swords are covered by rust...when you wander in the wild...and your voice always seems to sigh...Oh...Don't you worry, just remember...the shadows soon will fade...darling close your wary eyes...everything will be fine...let the breeze wipe away your tears...there's no need to cry..." He continued to sing until he finished the song, keeping his voice soft and soothing, hoping the lullaby brought the same comfort to Sirius as it had once comforted him. 

With a glance towards the clock in the room, he sees he still has an hour and a half before curfew. Regulus carefully lies down next to Sirius, keeping his body wrapped around Sirius like an octopus, legs tangled and Regulus's arms wrapped around Sirius's abdomen. He let his eyes flutter shut, deciding to take a quick little catnap, soothed by the gentle and repetitive motion of Sirius breathing.

Sirius was still here. Despite everything, he's still here. And so long as they remained by each other's sides, Regulus would make sure everything would be okay.

Chapter Text

As she had promised, Narcissa is standing outside of the Infirmary with Andromeda and Bellatrix standing on either side of her when Regulus arrives after the final class of the day, as per his daily routine.

Bellatrix looks more distressed than he would have thought she would. Her hair is slightly more frazzled than usual, and there's a wild look in her eyes, as if she were a cornered animal. Whereas Narcissa and Andromeda are standing calmly, Bellatrix is pacing stiffly, her body tense and her heels clicking on the stone floors. She freezes as soon as she registers his presence, her head turning slowly. Once her eyes meet his, Regulus only quirks a brow; anyone else would have felt like prey pinned by a predator, but Walburga ensured her sons were predators on equal par with his cousins. 

Bellatrix settles as soon as she sees who it is. "Can we go now?" She asks, her voice terse and her words curt. Regulus takes no offense. "Come now, then." He murmurs, softening his voice more than he would for anyone else. Bellatrix relaxes a little further, shoulders releasing some tension. Andromeda opens her arms when Regulus approaches to open the door, and she pulls him into a tight hug. Regulus tenses for a moment before relaxing into her arms. Bellatrix lets out a soft huff from behind him, displeased by the delay, and he pulls away with a pat to her arm. "Later, Andy." He whispers quietly.

He pushes the doors open, and Madam Pomfrey is waiting for him as usual. She does look faintly surprised when Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda follow; the five Blacks attending Hogwarts at once are known to be divided; Andromeda is never seen around her sisters, instead spending all her time with her lover, Ted Tonks, and her friends, none of whom are Slytherins. Bellatrix spends all her time with the Lestranges, Carrows, and Notts—the craziest families amidst the Sacred 28—whereas Narcissa associates mainly with the Malfoys, Rosiers, and Greengrasses. Regulus's social circle only ever overlaps with Bellatrix's, but he doesn't speak with her often. Regulus's own friends, Severus Snape, Barty Crouch Jr., Caius Avery, and Evan Rosier, all tended to keep amongst themselves. Regulus, introvert that he was, only ever sought out those of his own type.

Still, she says nothing. The four teenagers take hands, forming a loose circle, and with a loud 'POP!', they're in Sirius's room in Saint Mungo's.

Bellatrix breaks away from the circle first, taking Regulus's usual spot sitting at the edge of Sirius's bed, while Andromeda gently takes Regulus's wrist and tugs him aside. "Hi, sweetheart." She says softly, as if she were speaking to a child; her hand reaches up, and she affectionately brushes a few strands of hair out of his face. "Hi, Andy." Regulus sighs, subtly leaning into her touch. Affection is something he doesn't receive much of these days. "I thought you came to see Sirius." He grumbles with no actual heat. 

"I will in a moment. I think Bella needs to see him first." She murmurs gently. Regulus glances over his shoulder to see Bellatrix sitting on the bed, Sirius's head arranged in her lap. She's cooing wordlessly, running a hand through his hair and untangling it carefully, looking more akin to a mother cat grooming her kitten than the crazed teenager he'd grown accustomed to seeing her as. Narcissa has taken the same spot she claimed last time, sitting at the foot of the bed, her hand resting carefully atop Sirius's ankle.

"So what is it you wish to speak about?" Regulus huffs softly.

Andromeda huffs back teasingly before schooling her face into something a little more gentle. "I wanted to check in on you, Reggie. Hardly anyone has spoken with you in the past few weeks; your friends are worried. You're retreating into yourself more than you ever have before; you've always been an introvert, but never to this extent." She points out, keeping her voice low and quiet, as if speaking to a startled animal she doesn't want to scare off. 

Regulus can't help but scoff at the mention of his friends. His cousins, he could believe their concern; they were family, strained as those bonds were at home. He grew up with them; he was used to his cousins and the way they showed love. His friends were...vastly different from that.

The most affection Severus ever showed was being marginally less snarky to those he considered his friends. Barty's sanity was questionable, and his form of affection was biting and being disturbing and off-putting, letting his friends see who he truly was under the mask his father forced on him. Caius's affection came in the form of sharing a space with his friends, coexisting in their presence but preferring to keep to himself otherwise. Evan's affection is bringing people things like a cat bringing its owner dead things; Regulus says he needs something, and the next day, he'll find it on his bed with Evan pretending it wasn't him. 

He could hardly believe any of them would have expressed concern over him to Andromeda of all people, the second black sheep of the family, second only to Sirius, of course. 

"It's true!" Andromeda insists. "They thought you'd be more open to me asking about you, that you'd be more receptive to me than you would to them." Her face is stern, but her touch remains tender. "Cissa told us what you told her. That this was self-inflicted. Reggie, this is a lot to deal with for anyone. But he's your brother. I can only imagine what you might be feeling right now. Please, talk to me." She says pleadingly. 

"There's nothing to talk about, Andy. I'm fine. I just want to see my brother." Regulus mutters, trying to pull back. Andromeda doesn't let him, cupping his cheeks firmly. "Talk to me, Regulus. I know when something is wrong with someone, and something is wrong with you. I won't let you go until you do." 

Regulus tenses, spine going ramrod straight. For a moment, he could almost feel his mother's sharp nails digging into the soft skin of his cheeks when she would hold him similarly. But Andromeda's touch remains tender despite its firmness. She won't let him go, but she won't hurt him either. He looks around the room again; Sirius is resting as usual, with no change in his condition. Narcissa is trying to coax Bellatrix into conversation, keeping her own voice low as if Sirius were only sleeping and she didn't want to disturb him. Bellatrix is steadfast in her refusal to speak with anyone, her attention entirely on Sirius.

This room is filled with the people who know him best. Bellatrix is the one he would be the most worried about normally, but with her attention on Sirius and Narcissa's attention on Bellatrix, then maybe...just maybe it would be safe enough to open up. He trusts Andromeda, trusts her not to use his vulnerability against him the same way he trusted Narcissa the day before.

"It's not been easy," Regulus found himself admitting begrudgingly. "When I first came to Hogwarts, I was distant because it had been ordered of me by my parents. He is a Gryffindor, but I would be a good son and be a Slytherin, and those do not mix. Then I was distant because I thought he didn't...need me anymore. He had Potter, and that was enough. I entrusted Siri to Potter, since they were so close; they loved each other so much. I did not think our relationship was reparable and did not think Sirius would even want to see me. So Potter was a suitable replacement. But now…now I'm terrified I'll never get the chance to repair our relationship, to let us be as close as we used to be. I entrusted Sirius to Potter, put the person in love most in his hands, and this is what happened?" He forces out through gritted teeth as his old anger for James Florence Potter ignites yet again. 

"My brother is my everything, Andy. And they drove him to this." He says raggedly, the words wrenched from his throat. 

Andromeda softens further, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. "We'll fix this, cousin. Siri will be okay. He has us now. Bellatrix will not let him go after this stunt, and you know that where she goes, the Lestranges follow, along with Narcissa and the Malfoys. The Gryffindor could not treat him right, so we will pick up the slack. This will not be repeated." She promises sweetly, and Regulus relaxes, nodding with a soft sigh. He believes her; Andromeda has never been one to lie. 

"Now, come along. It has been far too long since I've spoken to my favorite cousin." She winks cheekily before releasing his cheeks and wrapping her hand around his wrist instead, tugging him towards the bed where her 'favorite cousin' lay. He snorts and shakes his head but lets himself be tugged and guided, his soul feeling lighter. 

His plan for when Sirius awoke had been to have his brother virtually adopted by his house, but Slytherins did not like Gryffindors, Sirius being the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black be damned. But with the support of Narcissa and Bellatrix, along with the support of the Malfoys and Lestranges that followed, and even Andromeda, seen as a future blood traitor, her name carried power. With all of them, the Slytherin house would have no choice but to accept Sirius into their fold. And Slytherins, despite all their flaws and differences, protected each other. If they didn't, no one else would. 

Sirius would be protected with his family, with his real family. 

Not Potter, not Pettigrew, not Lupin. Not the cowards that had abandoned him, the ones who had driven him to a point not even Walburga had managed.

Andromeda tugs him to the bed, and Bellatrix doesn't look keen on letting Sirius go, so Regulus doesn't even try. He instead sits on the opposite side of the bed, pressing his thigh against hers. She glances up, her eyes running up and down his form. She huffs softly, but without a snarl, it means she's not displeased, so he stays put, and Bellatrix looks back down at Sirius, curling up a little more, a cat protecting her kitten.

She reminds him so very much of the sweet girl she used to be, before the famous Black Madness began to claim her mind. Well, Bellatrix had never been sweet, not like Andromeda. But she’d been as kind as she could be within the parameters of what was acceptable in their family. And this display of protection just proved to him that she was not lost; she was still the same girl she’d been then. Perhaps her morals had changed, had grown looser, but in her core, Bellatrix still held the same values and loyalties she’d grown up with, and that was enough. 

Andromeda takes a seat next to Narcissa, resting her head atop her younger sister’s. Narcissa takes the touch, the easy affection, in stride in a way Regulus knows is not entirely genuine. She had trained herself not to stiffen, but Narcissa was as unused to touch as the rest of them, as deprived of affection as them all. 

No one speaks. The silence is all-consuming but comfortable, peaceful. For once, no one was fighting or arguing but united with a common goal.

Time slips by like sand falling through Regulus’s fingers. Before he knows it, an hour has passed in total silence. Narcissa is staying as still as a statue to not disturb Andromeda, who has dozed off lightly, and Bellatrix is still running her hand through Sirius’s hair. He glances at her, and she meets his eyes unblinkingly.

“Thank you.” She murmurs, her voice a low rasp. Andromeda does not stir, but Narcissa glances up. 

“He’s your cousin as much as he is my brother. You have every right to see him; you have every right to be here.” Regulus murmurs back, keeping his voice low, quiet. His words ring true and sincere in the otherwise quiet room. If it were Walburga and Orion, Regulus would not let them in. If it were anyone else in the family but perhaps their uncle Alphard, Regulus would not let them in. But for all their differences, Regulus trusted Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa. He didn’t always agree with them and their methods, but he trusted them.

Bellatrix preens just slightly, her pretty lips pulling up into a small smile, and her eyes crinkle in the corners in a look of contentment Regulus has seldom seen before. Bellatrix is beautiful, yes; all purebloods are conventionally attractive. But to him, she is never more breathtaking than when she allows herself to be content and relaxed, when she allows her hard, jagged edges to soften. It makes his chest fill with warm fondness.

There’s movement in his peripheral vision, and Regulus glances away from his cousin, his gaze landing back on Narcissa and Andromeda. Neither have moved, but Narcissa is no longer looking at him and Bellatrix curiously, instead looking down with odd intensity. 

Regulus follows her line of sight to find she’s looking at Sirius’s hand. His brows furrowed in confusion before he saw what she must have seen, before he realized what drew his gaze to her in the first place. 

Sirius’s fingers are twitching. 

Regulus sucks in a sharp breath, and it draws Bellatrix’s attention, her sharp glare landing on Sirius’s hand too. Narcissa lays a hand on Andromeda’s shoulder and shakes her lightly, to which the older girl sits up slowly with a little yawn and a sleepy hum. 

“Look!” Narcissa whispers, nodding towards Sirius’s hand. His fingers are no longer twitching, instead curling up into a fist before opening again, his movements slow and sluggish but movement nonetheless. “Has this happened before?” Narcissa asks Regulus, a faint thread of eagerness in her voice, her eyes bright and twinkling with hope. Regulus mutely shakes his head.

“This is promising. It means he could wake up soon.” Bellatrix chimes in, beginning to get giddy herself. 

Andromeda reaches up, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of Sirius’s face. “Can you hear us, little cousin?” She murmurs quietly, longingly. “We’re here; you’re not alone. Just follow us. You can do it.” She coos softly, and Sirius’s eyes begin to roll beneath his eyelids. Worry churns in Regulus’s stomach, his brows furrowing again. It’s a frightening sight, but…but movement is movement. Progress is progress. Anything is better than Sirius lying limp and lifeless in a coma.

“I'll go get a healer.” Narcissa says curtly, hands trembling. Regulus knows her, and he knows her well; her hands tremble with excitement she can barely suppress, and as she climbs off the bed and turns towards the door, he can see her teeth sink into the soft flesh of her lower lip as she bites back a smile. 

His cousins have been distant with Sirius since he came to Hogwarts, yes. But family loyalty was a lesson trained into them from birth, and not one easily forgotten. Sirius is still their cousin, still theirs. Sirius is still his brother, still his. And when he wakes up, not if but only a matter of when, Regulus is sure that the girls will close the distance they had allowed to grow. Other alliances be damned, family came before anyone and anything else. Regulus would not be alone in taking care of his brother, of ensuring he recovered peacefully and steadily. He would no longer be alone, and it soothed a worried part of his soul, the part that was still a little boy terrified of being abandoned. 

Regulus looked back down at Sirius, resting a pale hand on his chest to feel his older brother’s thumping heartbeat, noting absentmindedly that it was slightly elevated. He could hear the satisfying ‘clink, clink, clink’ of Narcissa’s heels as she stalked away, and only a minute later he heard several more sets of frantic footsteps getting closer before what must have been a dozen healers burst into the room. Not even that could get Regulus to tear his gaze away from his brother’s face, now no longer serene and relaxed but twisted in pain. 

The healers all rushed forward as one, frantic and moving about, when Sirius’s back arched sharply and his eyes snapped open as he let out a pained cry.

Chapter Text

Healers swarmed the room just as Sirius's eyes snapped open, his back arching off the bed and mouth falling open in a pained cry. 

Bellatrix gently grabs his jaw, and Sirius closes his mouth immediately for the same reason Regulus had been wary of Andromeda's touch earlier; it was the same way their mother grabbed their jaws when she was angry, when she would dig nails into soft skin and hiss venom into their ears. 

Bellatrix doesn't dig her nails into his skin; she keeps her touch gentle. She only wanted him to snap to attention. She croons softly, releasing his jaw when Sirius falls silent and no noise follows. She resumes running her hand through his hair as he glances around as much as possible without actually moving his head, grey eyes dazed and pupils blow wide. 

The three healers who had rushed in had frozen at the sight of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Regulus on the bed. Regulus couldn't fault them for it, not when his family's defining trait was their insanity. But his need to ensure his brother's safety was greater than any want he might have had of putting the healers at ease. "What are you waiting for? Do your jobs and check him over." He almost snaps, the words coming out through gritted teeth. It's enough to jar the healers out of their shock. 

One of the four healers rushes forward. Bellatrix's lips pull back into a soundless snarl, making it clear she will not be asked to move unless strictly necessary. The healer hesitates but pulls out her wand and, with a quick muttered 'Lumos', she summons a ball of light. Regulus watches as she slowly moves the ball of light around, Sirius's pupils shrinking but following the light regardless. He knows enough about healing to know that's a good thing. 

Narcissa renters the room, having taken a moment outside to compose herself. Andromeda doesn't care, blatantly grinning as Sirius is checked over by the healers, as the other three warily step forward to help. None of the teenagers is asked to leave, all four of the healers recognizing that none would have actually obeyed. The female healer just looks at Sirius, baffled, once all of the tests have been run with various spells. "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him. Physically, he's completely fine. Reacting to outside stimuli, pupils reacting to light, he can move." She lists off, confused. 

"Will he need to stay under observation?" Regulus asks, plans beginning to form in his head. While he would love to have his brother back at Hogwarts as soon as possible, he needs to have a conversation with his housemates first. Still, his chest feels light with euphoria, and he would be grinning like a fool if he hadn't been trained to have a poker face of stone. 

"We would like to keep him for at least another night, yes. There are more tests we could run to see if we could pinpoint the reason for the spontaneous coma." Another healer says slowly. Bellatrix, who had initially frowned upon hearing that her cousin would not be free from Saint Mungos for another day, had realized the same as Regulus, which is that they need to have a conversation with the entirety of the Slytherin house, and having Sirius stay another night in the hospital was for the best.

Since there was little else the healers could do in the moment, they all retreated from the room. There was only an hour left until curfew, and the teenagers planned to make the most of it. 

Sirius looked a little more coherent once the healers left, still looking around, confused. He doesn't seem surprised to see Bellatrix and Regulus, not batting an eye once he notices Andromeda still at the foot of the bed, but he blinks hard when he sees Narcissa reclaiming her seat by Andromeda's side. 

"What... what happened?" He asks slowly, voice hoarse and raspy. Bellatrix huffs in displeasure at the sound of his voice, reaching over to grab a glass of water that one of the healers had left. She brings the glass to Sirius's lips and tilts it slowly, glaring at her younger cousin until he drinks all of the water. Sirius doesn't argue, but he still looks confused. 

"What do you remember?" Regulus asks instead, reaching out to take his brother's hand and intertwining their fingers. He immediately felt soothed. Sirius had felt so cold the last two weeks, though Regulus doubted his temperature had actually dropped noticeably. But his brother's skin always felt warmer now that he was awake. And he wasn't the only one who needed to touch Sirius, who needed that reassurance. Narcissa had a hand wrapped around his right ankle, and Andromeda had claimed the left one. 

Sirius thought for a moment, staring blankly at the ceiling as he organized his memories. It felt weird having memories of a future he would make sure would never come to pass. But to answer his brother's question... Sirius's brows furrowed as he thought back. It took him a moment to recall that yes, he was still facing the aftermath of the Whomping Willow incident. "I went about my day as normal." He finally answers after a long pause. "The other Marauders and I...aren't on speaking terms. I did my homework and went to sleep. I had a weird dream, which turned into a nightmare, and when I woke up, my whole body hurt." He murmurs, brows furrowing further. "I think I started bleeding, but then I passed out."

Sirius knew that he didn't have all of the future's memories yet. He could only remember up until that fateful night in Godric's Hollow. He could only assume the rest would trickle in slowly. 

"You don't remember performing any spells or taking any potions?" Andromeda asks before Regulus can. Sirius shakes his head after a moment of thought. "No, no magic beyond what was necessary in class. And I don't take potions unless I have to, you know that."

Regulus studied his brother's face closely but didn't spot any of Sirius's tells, which could only mean his brother spoke the truth. That only brought more questions than answers. "Then why the coma?" He murmurs to himself under his breath, but the room is so quiet that everyone hears him regardless. "The leading theory was that this was self-inflicted, some failed suicide attempt. But you're saying that's not the case?" Regulus admits begrudgingly, tightening his hold on his brother's hand. 

"Absolutely not. I didn't try to bloody kill myself!" Sirius argues back immediately. He'd have sat up if he could, but Bellatrix hisses warningly, so he stays lying down. "I wouldn't have, no matter how bad everything got. I wouldn't leave you like that. Any of you." He says firmly, looking at his brother and cousins before meeting Bellatrix's eyes and holding her gaze for a long moment. Some of the tension leaves her shoulders, and she preens. 

"So then why the coma?" Regulus repeats slowly. Sirius only looks at him dryly. "I have literally no idea, Reggie. Seeing as I was the one unconscious for the past...how long has it been?" He asks, blinking. 

"Seven years," Andromeda replies solemnly before either Regulus or Narcissa could answer. Both of them look at her, utterly bemused.

"Wow, you've aged like milk, Andy," Sirius replies without missing a beat, just as grim. Andromeda swats at his ankle, rolling her eyes fondly. "Alright, you little shit-"

"I literally just woke up from a coma, and you're already bullying me. I will get you kicked out of this room-" Sirius cuts her off. As those two begin bickering, Narcissa and Regulus share a long, exasperated look. Bellatrix couldn't care less about what was being said around her, content to just continue detangling Sirius's hair. 

Regulus finally cut into Sirius and Andromeda's conversation, rolling his eyes at their antics. "You've been asleep for two weeks, Siri." He says, squeezing his brother's hand three times, a code for I love you. He receives three squeezes in return. 

"Two weeks? I almost expected it to be longer, considering how you all look like you're at a funeral." Sirius murmurs, brows almost disappearing into his hairline. He's trying to make light of the situation, uncomfortable with their concern. For now, they let him get away with it. 

"Salazar forbid we worry about our cousin." Andromeda snarks, swatting at Sirius's ankle again, which makes him pout. "Andy, you're so mean to me." He says seriously. "Oh, don't start again." Narcissa huffs, slumping against her older sister's side. "How you two claim to be each other's favorite but go at it like cats and dogs, I'll never understand." She exclaims dramatically. 

All five teenagers exist, in this moment, in a bubble outside of the world they live in. A bubble in which they're not burdened by expectations nor limited by 'training', a bubble in which they're free to act like teenagers. They'll all have to go back out into the real world soon, they'll have to slip on those worn, comfortable masks that are basically second skins, they'll have to school their features and straighten their spines and even out their voices, their family name a constant weight on their shoulders. But for now, they can tease and sneak and bicker. For now, they have this. 

While Regulus is reluctant to leave once he glanced at the clock and saw it was almost curfew, he could see that Sirius was tired. His cousins didn't want to leave either, but all of them had noticed how it was taking Sirius longer to respond, how his eyes were half-lidded and how he was melting further under Bellatrix's careful, gentle touch. 

As much as they didn't want to part from his side, Sirius still needed to rest. "We'll be back tomorrow, little cousin. As soon as we're able to." Bellatrix croons, nuzzling her cheek against Sirius's. Regulus squeezes his brother's hand again, three times, and waits to receive three squeezes back before pulling his hand away begrudgingly. 

Narcissa presses a kiss to Sirius's forehead, while Andromeda is careful as she hugs him. He looks sad to see them go, but they can tell he's barely awake. With a loud 'POP!', they're back in Hogwarts' Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey is nowhere to be seen initially before she comes rushing into the main room from her office. 

She relaxes when she sees it's only the four. "I take it today's visit went well?" She says pleasantly, noticing how relaxed and at ease the four teenagers are. Regulus nods, and Bellatrix preens. "He woke up today," Andromeda says, warm and fuzzy fondness filling her chest. Even Narcissa has to raise a hand to cover her mouth, hiding a smile. Madam Pomfrey's eyes widen, a grin overtaking her face. "Oh, that's wonderful news! I may have to pay a visit to him myself." She says, relieved. 

"He'll most likely be released tomorrow since the healers couldn't find anything physically wrong with him. He's just under observation tonight." Andromeda replies, still beaming widely. Madam Pomfrey's grin softens into a smile. "Thank you for the update, but you'd hear be running along now." She says kindly. 

Regulus can't help but smile back, a small barely-there, blink-and-you-miss-it twitch of the lips. He turns to the door and pushes it open, Bellatrix ushering her sisters out.

There's a meeting to be had, arrangements to be made, and no time to waste.

Chapter Text

It was late enough by the time Regulus, Narcissa, Andromeda and Bellatrix returned to Hogwarts that Prefects were already wandering the halls in search of stragglers to herd them back to their respective dorms. On the long walk back to the Dungeons, it was just Regulus’s luck that, of all the Prefects to spot him and his cousins, it would be Lupin.

Bellatrix immediately hisses at the taller boy, lips pulled back in a snarl, and Lupin bristles, hackles visibly raising. Regulus and Lupin had not been outright enemies before Sirius’s coma, but he wouldn’t say they were friends. After Sirius’s coma, however, Lupin began acting even stranger than before, and the younger boy couldn’t hope to read him anymore. 

Lupin had become downright possessive of Potter and Pettigrew, never seen without them both at his sides. Sometimes Regulus would pass him in the hallways, and he’d feel Lupin’s intense gaze on the nape of his neck like a physical thing. He had no idea what had prompted such behavioral changes, but he’d noticed Potter had similarly done a 180 in terms of personality, also for the worse. He was quieter, Regulus would go as far as to say meek, which was never a word he thought he’d associate with James Fleamont Potter, and had begun acting as Sirius had when he’d begun his downward spiral. Regulus felt pity for the other boy, but couldn’t bring himself to comfort him. Not when it was Potter’s fault, directly or indirectly, that Sirius had been put in Saint Mungos.

Or at least that’s what he’d thought before. But Sirius had confirmed it wasn’t the case; Potter had not driven him to attempt suicide as he’d been suspecting. And Potter had acted quickly when he noticed Sirius’s sharp and sudden decline in health, bringing him to the Infirmary. But Regulus had not forgiven him for the weeks of ostracization building up to Sirius’s coma. 

Pettigrew was the only one in the group to have remained relatively the same. Regulus couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. 

Before Bellatrix could attempt to rip Lupin’s throat out with her teeth and before Lupin attempted to claw Bellatrix’s face off with his bare hands, Regulus stepped between them. He glanced over his shoulder at his cousin, shaking his head subtly. He tilted his head towards the entrance of the dungeons, a silent command to go gather everyone. His cousins understood, Narcissa and Andromeda ushering Bellatrix towards the Slytherin dorm entrance while Regulus stayed behind to deal with Lupin.

He didn’t say a thing until he heard stone scraping against stone, the sounds of the Slytherin door opening. Only once he heard it close did he turn back to Lupin, looking at the brunette flatly. His stare was met evenly, and Regulus almost frowned when he noticed how there almost seemed to be an unsettling yellow hue to Lupin’s brown eyes. When he blinked and it was gone, he dismissed it as a trick of the light.

“You went to see him.” Lupin finally speaks, his voice oddly low, raspier than Regulus had heard it before. He quirks a brow, his expression flat. “He is my brother. Of course, I went to see him. I don’t abandon my family.” He retorted dryly, and Lupin ignored the dig. “How is he?” He asks, looking at Regulus intently, as if he were studying the younger boy.

Regulus doesn’t respond immediately, struggling to decide how much information he should give Lupin.

On one hand, he doesn’t want to tell the other boy anything. He wants to keep the knowledge that Sirius is awake hidden away, tucked close to his chest. But Sirius would likely be back at Hogwarts as soon as the day after tomorrow, and the cat would be out of the bag. If he told Lupin the truth now, he could use that to pull a deal out of the other boy; information for access to Sirius’s belongings, since he had no intention of letting his brother return to Gryffindor Tower. 

Could he simply Acio his brother’s belongings? Yes, but it would take far too much time, since he doubted all of Sirius’s things were tucked in his chest. Besides, he doubted that even the Marauders so obviously turning their back on Sirius would make the Black heir lose love for them. Sirius was always a bleeding heart, unable to love without giving away his entire being. Sirius could not turn off his emotions, could not simply choose to hate. And Regulus could deny him nothing. If he wanted to reach out to his friends, Regulus would begrudgingly allow it. So he could not make an enemy of Lupin.

He sighed. “I’ll tell you in exchange for a favor.” He says bluntly. “It’s nothing that will get you in trouble, before you worry.” 

Lupin looks at Regulus searchingly but finds no lie in his expression. Not that he would. The only people who knew his tells were his parents and brother. Not even his cousins could easily distinguish Regulus’s truth from his lies. “Deal.” The brunette agrees, and Regulus blinks in surprise at the borderline impulsive agreement. He’d expected more negotiation, pressing questions on what Regulus wanted in exchange, but it seemed Lupin was more desperate than Regulus had realized.

“He’s awake,” Regulus admits with a shrug. “The healers still could find nothing wrong with him and no cause for the coma. He’s being kept under observation for now, but he’ll be back before the end of the week. He’s fine physically and was acting more like himself than he has in months.”

Regulus studies Lupin’s reaction, noticing how it seems as though an invisible weight was lifted off his shoulders. “Does he remember what happened?” Lupin asks after a moment, and Regulus nods. “Yes, it wasn’t self-inflicted as the rumors seem to say. He swears he doesn’t know how it happened, and I’m inclined to believe my brother. Not enough that I’ll be leaving him alone, mind you, but I believe him when he says it wasn’t a failed attempt at taking his own life.”

Lupin nods, exhaling in relief. Regulus continues to observe him curiously. It’s not that he thought Lupin hated Sirius; he knew very well that, despite how the Marauders had acted towards his brother the past several weeks, they all loved him dearly. He had seen it clearly the night his brother had slipped into his coma. But he’d known that the silent treatment given to Sirius had been on Lupin’s behalf.

“What favor did you want?” Lupin asks a moment later, seemingly remembering how he’d agreed to a deal. “I want my brother’s things.” He says simply, and Lupin only looks faintly surprised for a moment before nodding, although his expression is sad. “You won’t be letting him return to the tower, will you?” He asks despite already knowing the answer. He sounds almost mournful. 

Regulus nods. “I’m no fool, Lupin; if my brother wishes to seek you out, nothing I could do will stop him. But it’s because I know my brother so well that I know he is hurt, still, over what happened. So yes, for now, Sirius will be staying with his family in the Slytherin dungeons. I’m sure you will not be telling his head of House?” Regulus says sternly.

Lupin nods, smiling sadly. “I’ll get you his things and I won’t tell Professor McGonagall. I’ll keep James and Peter away, too. Just…please, tell him we’re sorry and that we’d like to talk to him as soon as he’s ready?” 

Regulus is once again surprised by Lupin’s cooperation. He knows the brunette isn’t happy by this turn of events, but he cares enough about Sirius to let him set the pace of their reconciliation, which is likely inevitable if Regulus knows his brother at all. Which he does.

“Bring his things to me tomorrow.” He says curtly before thinking for a moment and sighing. “And if you want to write my brother a letter and bring it to me along with his things, I’ll see to it that he gets it.” He says begrudgingly. He might need Lupin’s assistance later, so he might as well ensure Lupin remains his ally.

The brunette brightens slightly and shoots Regulus a smile. Regulus studies the expression, softening just a bit. “Good night, Lupin.” He says firmly, turning towards the entrance of the dungeons. He has a meeting to have, after all. 

“Good night, Regulus,” Lupin says quietly. Regulus continues deeper into the dungeons without faltering, hearing as Lupin’s footsteps retreat. When he whispers the password and enters the Slytherin common room, he sees the entire house gathered, every student from year one to seven, all staring at either him or his cousins. Half the students are in their pajamas, clearly having been either asleep or in the process of getting ready to sleep. 

The students have arranged themselves on the couches and by the fireplace, where a fire burns constantly to combat the vicious chill of the cold stone. His cousins stand away from the crowd, gathered opposite the students. He joins them.

It’s Lucius Malfoy who speaks up first. “Why is it that you’ve gathered us all here?” He asks, snarky as usual. Regulus looks at the crowd of gathered students once more before he steps forward to speak. 

“I’m sure you’ve all heard by now what happened to my brother. You're bound to have heard by now about how he was ostracized by his house and closest friends, before mysteriously slipping into a coma with seemingly no cause. Well, he awoke today. He will be back the day after tomorrow, and you’ve all been gathered here today to be told that he will be joining our house once he’s returned to Hogwarts. Not to be resorted to, but staying in the dungeons. He will be a Slytherin in all but house colors, and he will be treated as a Slytherin. You are all to accept him as your own.” He says bluntly, looking around at his housemates. 

Regulus catches Severus’s eyes, noticing his friend looks enraged. Regulus returns his angry gaze, entirely unapologetic. 

As expected, many students cry out at once in protest. Bellatrix silences them all in a moment, stomping her foot on the ground hard. A roaring fire starts where her foot meets the ground, flames engulfing her leg in a second, but her clothes and skin remain unburned. Still, the show of wordless and wandless magic is enough to shock everyone into silence. Bellatrix allows the flames to go out, stalking forward from behind Regulus.

“Perhaps my dear cousin was not clear enough.” She says slowly, her words coming out as a low hiss. Her one sentence is the most anyone has heard her speak in two weeks since Sirius’s condition came out. 

She looks around at the gathered students, her sharp eyes narrowed in a glare. “We are not asking. We are telling you what will happen. Sirius Black is the heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black, and it would do you all well to remember that. Especially those of you who wish to marry into our family.” She turns her glare onto Lucius.

“Anyone who wishes to argue against this house taking him in after he was abandoned by his own, step forward now. If you have a problem with my cousin, let’s solve it.” She snarls, shifting into a dueling stance. 

No one steps forward; no one wants to face Bellatrix’s wrath. Especially as, after a beat, Narcissa and Andromeda step forward to flank their sister, Narcissa pulling her wand out and Andromeda taking on a more obvious stance; Andromeda will not duel, she will brawl.

No one dares to protest, not when it would mean fighting all three Black sisters. After a long, silent minute, all three girls relax. “That’s what I thought.” Bellatrix sneers, dropping the dueling stance. Rodolphus Lestrange is the first one to step forward, coming to stand beside Bellatrix, his brother on his heels. Lucius follows, coming to stand by Narcissa and looking a bit like a kicked puppy. Barty and Even come to join Regulus, both of them knowing full well how deeply Regulus loves his brother.

The common room is engulfed in tense silence as slowly but surely the crowd by the fireplace thins, more and more people choosing to stand by the Blacks until everyone has agreed wordlessly to accept Sirius as their own. Even if not everyone agreed, at this point, arguing would mean having to face the majority of your house. And the Slytherin house was perhaps the most united of the four, since they faced animosity from so many of the other students. No self-respecting Slytherin would dare go against the house rules outside of the dungeons, and one of the most important rules of the Slytherin house was to put on a united front; if there were problems or conflicts, they were hashed out inside the common room and nowhere else.

“So everyone is in agreement, yes?” Narcissa says, her voice deceptively pleasant. There are murmurs of agreement, and she smiles; It’s flat and doesn’t meet her eyes. “Then this matter is settled. Sirius will be joining our house as an honorary member and will be treated as such. Disrespect against him will be disrespect against my sisters, Regulus and me, and it will be handled by the five of us accordingly. That is all, you may return to your rooms now.”

Students are quick to disperse, going back to their dorms. Evan, Barty, and Caius linger. “I take it your brother will be joining our room, then?” Evan asks dryly. Regulus smirks. “Of course, where else?”

“Does he even know about this little plan of yours?” Barty asks, snorting. “Because the Sirius Black I know wouldn’t be happy at having to room with a bunch of snakes. And last I heard, you and your cousins weren’t even on speaking terms with him. But it seems a lot has changed over two weeks.” He croons, draping an arm over Regulus’s shoulders. 

“I’ll tell him tomorrow. I’ve already arranged to get his things from his dorm. As for him joining our room, I’ll convince him.” Regulus shrugs, unbothered. “You really are a snake, cousin. Through and through.” Andromeda says fondly, shaking her head. “We made these plans today, not three hours ago, and you’ve already made arrangements.”

Regulus only smirks wider but says nothing. Caius finally pipes up, brow quirked, and his drawl dry. “Severus won’t be happy about this, you know.” 

“I’m well aware, and I intend to discuss this with him tomorrow. First, of course, I need to find out the root of what happened between my brother and his friends two months ago and how Severus was involved.” He sighs, making a mental list of everything he’ll need to get done and how much time he has to do it. 

“And how do you intend to pry it out of him?” Barty purrs in Regulus’s ear. “He’s been real tight-lipped about it since.” 

“I care far more about my brother than anything else. I will get the truth from Severus in whatever way I must; he could confess willingly, or I will use Veritaserum if he refuses. But I will have the truth, and I will ensure he does not attempt to harm my brother. No one will want to see what I will do to him if he seeks vengeance against Sirius.” Regulus replies darkly. 

Barty’s brows almost disappear into his hairline before he croons, pleased. Even Evan and Caius look pleasantly surprised by the borderline possessiveness in Regulus’s tone. 

“You can continue to scheme tomorrow. Sleep now, little cousin.” Bellatrix purrs, brushing some strands of hair out of his face and leaning down to nuzzle her cheek against his. Regulus allows the affection, which is as good as returning the affection in their family. Bellatrix pulls away and saunters towards the girl’s side of the dorms, a skip in her step. Andromeda and Narcissa similarly bid him good night before disappearing down the hall behind their sister.

Barty, who had draped himself over Regulus’s back, hums in agreement and grabs the smaller boy’s wrist before dragging him in the direction of their room, Evan and Caius following behind. 

Regulus hardly realized how exhausted he was until he was shoved by Barty onto his bed. With an amused huff, he waves his hand and the curtains around his bed close. Regulus takes his robe and tie off, unbuttoning his shirt and taking off his pants before grabbing his pajamas, which are kept neatly folded on his bed for occasions like this, and dressing himself slowly before collapsing onto the soft mattress, not even bothering to fold his school clothes. It’s Wednesday, almost the end of the week, and he has a spare uniform in his trunk, so it doesn’t matter if one of the uniforms is wrinkled. 

Regulus passes out almost immediately, not even the sounds of his friends changing and whispering keeping him awake.

Remus continued to make his rounds in a pensive silence. Even when he ran into students sneaking around the halls, he only sent them off with a stern warning. 

He felt overjoyed, weak with relief at the knowledge that Sirius was awake, still alive. Saddened by the distance Padfoot’s pack would put in to keep them apart, of course, but Mini Padfoot had promised to transport a letter on Remus’s behalf, and that was more than he was expecting after everything that had happened. The news would no doubt sadden Prongs and Wormtail as well, but neither had the energy to argue against Regulus and especially not when he had his cousins on his side. 

The best they could do was give him space and wait for Padfoot to approach them, hoping against hope they had not burned the bridge between him and them for good. Moony hoped not.

His pack was so small already, he didn’t want to lose Padfoot. He was the one who best kept up with him during Full Moon nights. Even Prongs, a stag, would begin lagging behind after hours of running around, and Wormtail was easy to loose; he had the least amount of stamina of the four, and his limbs were so small that he expended all his energy within the first hour or two and would hitch a ride on Prongs’ back for the rest of the night, struggling to hold on lest he fly off again. But Padfoot, a grim, could keep up even when Moony was at his rowdiest. The two of them could go blow for blow, their play fights lasting until sunrise. 

Moony thought he’d go insane when no one knew if Sirius was even still alive, since only his direct family could get updates. He thought surely he would die too once Padfoot’s scent began fading from the room. He thought there was no way he could live with such heavy grief. He didn’t dare touch Padfoot’s bed for fear of covering the already fleeting scent with his own. 

Having confirmation that Sirius was still alive felt so relieving that his knees almost gave out, even if he’d only be able to see his packmate from a distance. It would break his heart to lose Padfoot, but he would rather lose him to distance than to death’s cruel embrace. 

As soon as his rounds were done, Moony walked back to Gryffindor Tower as quickly as he could. Once inside, he barely spared a glance at the stragglers still in the common room, muttering a quick goodnight before taking the steps almost two at a time until he could duck into his dorm room. 

As expected, James and Peter were still awake, both boys curled up in Moony’s bed. There was a ball of light floating by Peter’s head as he read a book, sat up and leaned against some pillows, while James was lying down, curled up around Peter. 

“Did you catch him today?” James asks, raising a hand to cover his mouth as he yawns. Remus had been trying to catch sight of Regulus for the past week to ask for an update on Sirius’s condition and failing every time. He didn’t think the younger boy was purposefully avoiding him, but their schedules had no overlap, and even once it was time for the prefects to make their rounds around the school, he could never catch him. 

“I did, he said. Sirius is awake and coming back to Hogwarts by Friday,” Remus replies, and Peter drops his book in shock. Remus grins as James and Peter stare at him, wide-eyed and bewildered. “He’s awake?! He’s coming back?!” Peter almost shouts, surprised and happy and anxious all at once. “He won’t be staying with us for the foreseeable future, but he’ll be back, yes.” He says gently.

They’d discussed the likelihood of Regulus not wanting Sirius to come back to Gryffindor Tower and accepted that the chances were high. His house had abandoned him when Sirius needed them most, after all, so none of them could blame him. Peter’s expression falls, as does James’s, but they’d been expecting this. 

“He did say that if I brought him a letter with Sirius’s things, he’d make sure it got to him, though,” Remus murmured in an attempt to cheer them back up, and it worked. Peter almost jumped out of bed to begin writing, but James, whose arms were wrapped around Peter’s waist, didn’t let go. “I want to write that letter right now, too, Pete, but it’s late. We can do it tomorrow, after we’ve slept on it and know what we want to say.” James murmurs sleepily. Remus can’t help but snort softly as he strips down to his boxers and crawls into his bed on James’s other side.

“You just want to sleep and don’t want your pillow to leave,” Peter says accusingly, but he runs a hand through James’s messy hair, and his words are undeniably fond. At times, they all feel so guilty for finding small moments of happiness amidst everything happening outside of their room. But they couldn’t help it. The Marauders had so many secrets they kept from everyone else that they could only truly trust each other, and that level of trust made it hurt all the more when Sirius broke that trust. 

The thought that Sirius might never want them again, might want to cut ties completely, had been the subject of many nightmares over the last two weeks. James had, on more than one occasion, broken down into guilty tears. Those memories only made Remus plaster himself against James’s back more firmly. Their emotional turmoil and the fact that they’ve all been struggling in the wake of what happened with Sirius is all the more reason to indulge these little moments where things feel almost like they used to be, the werewolf justifies to himself. 

Tomorrow, the three of them would sit down to write a letter, and they would pour their hearts out. Tomorrow, they will have to pack up Sirius’s belongings, and Remus will give them over to Regulus. Tomorrow, they will have to prepare to see Sirius again for the first time in two weeks. But all of that will be tomorrow. Tonight, the three boys, missing their fourth, just curl up together to sleep.

Sirius stared blankly at the white ceiling of his hospital room, struggling to sleep. A glance at the clock above the door reveals the time to be 2:17 in the morning. 

He signs tiredly, shifting in an attempt to get more comfortable. He’d slept for a good few hours after his cousins and brother left, but now sleep evaded him.

This was the first time he was fully conscious and alone since getting his memories thrown back in time, and he finally had a moment to just breathe. His mind was already beginning to run with ideas, making a list of important things he needed to change urgently, and trying to figure out what would have already changed because of his little nap. 

When he turned his head and saw the door to the bathroom in his room, Sirius pushed himself upright with a grunt and managed to stumble to his feet. It took him a minute to regain his bearings, and several more to wrap his head around how new this body felt. Still his, undeniably so, but also drastically different from what he remembered. When he takes a step, there’s no ache in his left knee because this body has yet to experience a shattered kneecap after falling off a roof, fleeing Death Eaters on a mission from the Order in ‘78.

He manages to walk to the bathroom, muttering a quick Lumos until the small space is filled with a warm glow. He meets his reflection’s eyes, allowing himself a quiet curse in surprise.

Had he actually looked so young once upon a time?

His face lacks the few visible scars he remembers. There are no circles under his eyes, so dark they look like bruises. His hair isn’t dull and unkempt but still a mess of waves, shiny and pure black; at this age, Sirius would groom himself almost obsessively, and it’s a habit he kept even in Azkaban and after he escaped. His hair is only as messy as it is because of Bellatrix, and Sirius can’t even bring himself to scowl.

He leans closer to the mirror, studying every inch of his face. Something about his reflection looks almost uncanny…

The lights flash, and gravity goes wonky for a second. Sirius’s knees give out, and he almost crumbles to the ground, but manages to catch himself on the sink just in time. His eyes are blown wide and straight sightlessly up, a drop of blood dripping from his nose. 

He’s hit with three years of memory all at once, his mind overwhelmed by the feeling of deathly cold, of stone walls and the constant sound of waves crashing against the shore. He remembers countless nights curled up in the far corner of his cell, hoping and praying that tonight they will not pass, will not make him remember, but they do. They pass and they make him remember and he screams, screams and writhes on cold stone and remembers grief so intense he thinks he must be fatally wounded. He remembers shrill laughter from the cells around him before the laughter turns to agonized shrieking as their memories are brought forward too-

Sirius comes to and immediately sucks in a sharp breath, choking on it. 

It takes him a long moment to compose himself, and he grasps blindly at the sink until he feels he has a good enough grasp on the porcelain to pull himself up, staggering for a moment. He glances back at his reflection and, with a grimace, wipes away the thin trail of blood on his face. 

His head is pounding, and it seems his memories will not return to him slowly but hit him a dozen at once whenever something triggers one. 

This time, when he studies himself in the mirror, he can tell what triggered the uncanny feeling he’d noticed before; his hair is black and not streaked with grey as he’d remembered. He frowned at his reflection; all the energy seeped from his body. Sleep will come easily now, he’s sure. 

Sirius gives himself another moment to breathe, holding himself up but beginning to tremble from exhaustion. His nose has stopped bleeding, but his head has not stopped pounding, and he’s sure sleep will fix it if he can just make it to the bed. A walk that felt easy five minutes prior feels so daunting now, but he won’t change the future if a little exhaustion is enough to take him out of commission. 

With a frown, he releases the sink and takes a step forward, only to immediately tumble and have to catch himself on the doorframe. Determined not to let the spike in his headache stop him, Sirius forces his body to stagger towards the bed, and he collapses forward, his little ball of light following him.

With a wave of his hand, he extinguishes the light and pulls the blanket up to his shoulders half-heartedly, slipping into sleep virtually as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

Chapter Text

The following day started as normal; Remus attended classes with James and Peter, he did his homework, he went to the Great Hall for meals and ensured Prongs and Wormtail ate. It was only after dinner that his day drifted away from routine, when he and the remaining Marauders made their way into their room to begin packing up Sirius's belongings. 

It was more painful than Remus was expecting, holding one of his packmate's shirts and folding it with the utmost care before placing it gently in his trunk. James and Peter were rummaging around and packing up Sirius's various trinkets and knickknacks. Remus's mind raced as he folded all of Sirius's clothes, reminiscing on all the memories he and his pack had in this room. It made shame and guilt curdle in his belly at the thought of never having that again. 

He'd been hurt after finding out Sirius told Snape how to get past the Whomping Willow, but he'd never wanted this. He never wanted to lose Sirius, and although Sirius himself wasn't the one who had chosen to move out, it still felt like a loss. Moony was caught in this feeling of pre-grief, even though Padfoot was alive and well. But he'd been absent from one full moon already and would miss the upcoming one. No one knew when or even if Padfoot would ever rejoin them, and his absence was becoming all the more noticible.

Even Remus was beginning to notice how the line between him and Moony was blurry at best and gone at worst. Sometimes not even he could tell who was in the forefront, but since he was attached to Prongs and Wormtail's sides, they kept him in check for the most part. But even they were feeling Padfoot's lose acutely. Moony had mourned Padfoot, and his grief was bleeding into Remus. Even knowing Sirius was alive wasn't enough; Moony was relieved to hear it, but Mini Padfoot was a snake and had not proven his trustworthiness. He was not pack. Moony would not be soothed until he saw Padfoot with his own eyes, and seeing as their relationship was basically in tatters, that wasn't looking likely.

Neither Remus nor James nor Peter would dare ask Sirius to join on a full moon. It was an intimate experience, running through the forest on those nights, a secret only four souls shared. As much as they wanted Sirius back, as much as they yearned for their missing pack member, they wouldn't ask. They had no right to request his help, his presence. As painful as his absence was, they were the ones to push him away first. 

Sooner than he expected, Remus was staring down at his scarred, empty hands. Sirius's trunk was filled half with neatly folded clothes, and he could see Peter gently putting a little trinket into the other half. His heart ached when he recognized it as a small keychain that Remus had won for Sirius over the summer, since there was a small fair in his hometown so he dragged his friends to the muggle world for a day of antics. 

His vision blurred, eyes stinging with tears.

Remus was selfish, he knew it well. He was greedy and possessive, but he couldn't help it. He reached into the trunk with trembling hands and pulled out the shirt at the top of the pile; one of Sirius's favorite sleep shirts. Another relic from the summer; Remus and Peter had taken full advantage of Sirius staying with the Potters to drag their friends to the muggle world. Sirius had fallen in love with band tees, leather jackets and piercings, and he'd ended up with so many shirts of bands he'd never listened to. Shirts he never could have owned while living with his parents, his mother would have thrown such a fit.

The fabric was bunched together in between Remus's closed fists. Moony couldn't help but bury his face in the fabric with a pained whine, taking a deep breath and inhaling Padfoot's fading scent. He could feel a wet spot forming beneath his face as his tears soaked the shirt, his breaths becoming a little shakier. He felt a warm hand rest gently on his shoulder, and another, smaller hand begin rubbing circles into his back. But Moony couldn't move, just whimper and cling to the shirt in his hands. He didn't understand why his packmate was gone, didn't understand why Padfoot wasn't sleeping in their room anymore or why they couldn't see him. He didn't understand, but he wanted Padfoot back. 

The smaller hand retreated and something warm and furry landed in his lap. Moony could feel small claws sink into the fabric of his clothes as Wormtail crawled up his chest before settling in the crook of his neck, nuzzling his small head into the underside of Moony's jaw. Moony whined louder, but obligingly put the shirt down, keeping it in his lap but instead gently grabbing Wormtail, cradling him close to his chest. James didn't say anything, but he draped himself over Moony's back, arms around his shoulders. It helped a little to be surrounded by his pack, by their scents. "Could we...could we keep this one?" Moony asks, voice small and choked up. 

"I'm sure he won't miss it." James murmurs, talking quietly. "He has so many, and they're basically the same." He snorts softly and Moony lets out a wet little chuckle because he's heard James say the same thing a dozen times and he's heard Sirius's indignant rant follow right after. Moony pets Wormtail gently and leans back into James's warmth, trying not to drown in grief he barely understands.The following day started as normal; Remus attended classes with James and Peter, he did his homework, he went to the Great Hall for meals and ensured Prongs and Wormtail ate. It was only after dinner that his day drifted away from routine, when he and the remaining Marauders made their way into their room to begin packing up Sirius's belongings. 

It was more painful than Remus was expecting, holding one of his packmates' shirts and folding it with the utmost care before placing it gently in his trunk. James and Peter were rummaging around and packing up Sirius's various trinkets and knick-knacks. Remus's mind raced as he folded all of Sirius's clothes, reminiscing on all the memories he and his pack had in this room. It made shame and guilt curdle in his belly at the thought of never having that again. 

He'd been hurt after finding out Sirius told Snape how to get past the Whomping Willow, but he'd never wanted this. He never wanted to lose Sirius, and although Sirius himself wasn't the one who had chosen to move out, it still felt like a loss. Moony was caught in this feeling of pre-grief, even though Padfoot was alive and well. But he'd been absent from one full moon already and would miss the upcoming one. No one knew when or even if Padfoot would ever rejoin them, and his absence was becoming all the more noticeable.

Even Remus was beginning to notice how the line between him and Moony was blurry at best and gone at worst. Sometimes, not even he could tell who was in the forefront, but since he was attached to Prongs and Wormtail's sides, they kept him in check for the most part. 

But even they were feeling Padfoot's loss acutely. Moony had mourned Padfoot, and his grief was bleeding into Remus. Even knowing Sirius was alive wasn't enough; Moony was relieved to hear it, but Mini Padfoot was a snake and had not proven his trustworthiness. He was not pack. Moony would not be soothed until he saw Padfoot with his own eyes, and seeing as their relationship was basically in tatters, that wasn't looking likely.

Neither Remus nor James nor Peter would dare ask Sirius to join on a full moon. It was an intimate experience, running through the forest on those nights, a secret only four souls shared. As much as they wanted Sirius back, as much as they yearned for their missing pack member, they wouldn't ask. They had no right to request his help, his presence. As painful as his absence was, they were the ones to push him away first. 

Sooner than he expected, Remus was staring down at his scarred, empty hands. Sirius's trunk was filled half with neatly folded clothes, and he could see Peter gently putting a little trinket into the other half. His heart ached when he recognized it as a small keychain that Remus had won for Sirius over the summer, since there was a small fair in his hometown, so he dragged his friends to the muggle world for a day of antics. 

His vision blurred, eyes stinging with tears.
Remus was selfish, he knew it well, greedy and possessive, but he couldn't help it. He reached into the trunk with trembling hands and pulled out the shirt at the top of the pile; one of Sirius's favorite sleep shirts. Another relic from the summer, Remus and Peter had taken full advantage of Sirius staying with the Potters to drag their friends to the muggle world. Sirius had fallen in love with band tees, leather jackets and piercings, and he'd ended up with so many shirts of bands he'd never listened to. Shirts he never could have owned while living with his parents, his mother would have thrown such a fit.

The fabric was bunched together in between Remus's closed fists. Moony couldn't help but bury his face in the fabric with a pained whine, taking a deep breath and inhaling Padfoot's fading scent. He could feel a wet spot forming beneath his face as his tears soaked the shirt, his breath becoming a little shakier. He felt a warm hand rest gently on his shoulder, and another, smaller hand begin rubbing circles into his back. But Moony couldn't move, just whimpered and clung to the shirt in his hands. He didn't understand why his packmate was gone, didn't understand why Padfoot wasn't sleeping in their room anymore or why they couldn't see him. He didn't understand, but he wanted Padfoot back. 

The smaller hand retreated, and something warm and furry landed in his lap. Moony could feel small claws sink into the fabric of his clothes as Wormtail crawled up his chest before settling in the crook of his neck, nuzzling his small head into the underside of Moony's jaw. Moony whined louder, but obligingly put the shirt down, keeping it in his lap but instead gently grabbing Wormtail, cradling him close to his chest. James didn't say anything, but he draped himself over Moony's back, arms around his shoulders. It helped a little to be surrounded by his pack, by their scents. "Could we...could we keep this one?" Moony asks, voice small and choked up. 

"I'm sure he won't miss it." James murmurs, talking quietly. "He has so many, and they're basically the same." He snorts softly, and Moony lets out a wet little chuckle because he's heard James say the same thing a dozen times, and he's heard Sirius's indignant rant follow right after. Moony pets Wormtail gently and leans back into James's warmth, trying not to drown in grief he barely understands.

Regulus waited impatiently for Severus to show up in the empty Potions classroom. Classes had let out half an hour ago, and he knew Severus spent his afternoons studying potions and practicing them, devoted as he was to mastering his craft.

Regulus would pick his brother up from Saint Mungos in only a few hours, and right before, he would need to collect Sirius's things. But first, he needed to find out exactly what had gone down between Severus and Sirius. Severus had always hated Sirius; that was common knowledge, but something had changed two months prior. Severus went from cursing Sirius's name behind closed doors to almost shooting curses at him in the halls, all but frothing at the mouth at the mere mention of the Black heir's name. Regulus would not allow Severus, as dear as the older boy was to him, to pose a threat to his brother. And he would go to any and all means to ensure his brother's safety. 

If it meant he lost Severus's friendship, so be it. 

While it was true he cared deeply for the potionmaker, as the two shared similar senses of humor as well as introverted tendencies and the same work ethics, the same fervent hunger for knowledge, and the same vindictive streak a mile long, no one will ever be more beloved to Regulus than his brother. Acts against his brother would not be forgiven, not from anyone. Not after this scare, when Regulus experienced two weeks of a life without Sirius, two weeks not knowing if his brother would wake up, two weeks where the silence in the halls felt oppressive. He would never live like that again. 

Finally, the door to the classroom swung open and Severus slunk in, shoulders tense and jaw clenched in anger, his face twisted into a scowl seen so often it might as well be his resting expression. He stalked into the room, slamming his books down onto an empty desk before turning sharply on his heel and going into the closet of potion ingredients. Regulus watches his friend's dramatics with a deadpan expression, leaning against a bookshelf opposite the closet. Severus hadn't noticed him, which spoke volumes about how angry the older boy must be. 

He could hear glass vials being rustled and moved. Regulus kept silent until Severus left the closet, arms full of potion ingredients that he set down far gentler than he had the books. It was only when he turned to get a cauldron, which was on the shelves next to where Regulus was leaning, did the fifth year saw the fourth year. If possible, Severus scowled harder.

"What are you doing here?" Severus barks out, all of his muscles taut with tension. Regulus pushes himself upright, his body languid and relaxed. "Hello to you, too, Severus." He says pleasantly, smiling slightly. It doesn't meet his dark eyes.

"As you know," Regulus begins, keeping his tone airy and polite for the sole purpose of putting Severus on edge. He can see it's working well, judging by the potionmaker's clenched fists and white knuckles. "My brother will be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow and will be joining our house tonight because his own house turned its back on him. The reason for that is, of course, up for debate, but the details that have somehow managed to remain steady despite our school's vicious rumor mill are that he had a falling out with the other Marauders and that you, of all people, were involved. Not just involved but the catalyst for it, from what I hear." Regulus says knowingly, having slowly made his way across the room. He continues walking at a leisurely pace around Severus, who remains tense and still.

The smaller boy maintains the small smile, bright and soft and completely out of place on his otherwise blank face and contrasting perturbingly with his dead eyes. "As you know, I couldn't care less about Potter, Pettigrew, or Lupin, nor their business. But everyone noticed how the five of you were pulled into the Headmaster's office, and of course how your hatred for my brother reached new heights." Regulus finally comes to a stop in front of Severus, meeting the taller boy's eyes unflinchingly. "I want to know what happened that night." He says, dropping the faux pleasant tone. "And you're going to be so kind as to tell me."

"Why would I do that?" Severus forces out through gritted teeth, black eyes narrowed in a vicious glare that might unsettle most, but Regulus continues to meet it unflinchingly, having faced far worse by his own mother. "Because I am stronger than you, Severus. I am adept at both wordless and wandless magic, of which you are proficient in neither. Which means I do not need to touch you to hurt you. And unlike my brother, who at most did pranks that humiliated you but never drew blood, rest assured that I will hurt you." He croons, tilting his head up to meet Severus's eyes.

Severus sucks in a sharp breath, not having expected the threat. Regulus continues as if he hadn't heard his friend almost choke on his breath. "If you are unaffected by pain, although I suspect you aren't because a tolerance like mine takes training you have not had, then I will take this vial of Veritaserum," he pulls the small vial out of his pocket and holds it up for Severus to see clearly, "And shove it down your throat. I am giving you a choice here, Severus; these are not all the methods I could use. If I have to use Legilimency, I will do so. I would rather not be so forceful, but this issue, left unattended, may or may not have caused my brother's hospitalization, so it is one stone I cannot leave unturned. I'm sure you understand."

Severus looks deeply unsettled, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. Regulus almost preens, relishing it. He may be younger, yes, and his body may be slimmer, smaller, but he is not nor has he even been weak. No one in his family is weak; it would never be allowed. Just because he doesn't indulge senseless violence doesn't make him a pacifist: Regulus thought that Barty being one of his closest friends might have been a giveaway. 

"Which will you choose, Severus? I would speak willingly if I were you." He suggests calmly. Severus's face darkens with fury, but he remains stubbornly silent for a long moment. "What happened that night is none of your concern." He says stiffly, attempting to turn away, cauldron forgotten. Regulus moves faster than Severus could have ever expected, and the next thing he knows, he's being shoved against a stone wall. The wind is knocked out of his lungs as his back is slammed against the wall, and his lips parted in a startled gasp. Regulus uncaps the vial of Veritaserum and pours the liquid down the taller boy's throat. With one hand, he pinches his nose shut, and with the other, he covers Severus's jaw, giving him no choice but to swallow the truth potion. 

Only after Severus has swallowed does Regulus step back, recapping the vial and slipping it back into his pocket. He tries not to feel smug, especially when he sees Severus's eyes full of incandescent rage. This is a betrayal, and one Regulus is unsure of whether their friendship could recover from. But Severus is a price he's willing to pay for Sirius, always.

"What happened that night?" Regulus asked after a pause, letting the potion take full effect. "What happened between you and Sirius that led to his falling out with the Marauders?"

Severus snarls at him, furious, but the truth rises to his tongue nonetheless. He tries to swallow the words through sheer force of will, pinned to the wall only by Regulus's sharp glare and threat of violence, but the words spill out despite his attempts. "I found out Lupin hides himself in the Shrieking Shack during the full moons. I got Black to tell me how to get past the Whomping Willow so I could see what they were hiding, only to find out Lupin is a werewolf. He nearly killed me; the only reason I'm still alive is because Potter got me out in time. Dumbledore swore me to secrecy." He says through gritted teeth, eyes dark with hatred. 

"How did you convince Sirius to tell you how to get past the Whomping Willow?" Regulus presses, not flinching at the revelation of one of his peers being a werewolf. He hadn't even suspected, but it made sense with all of the scars Lupin had. Severus looked surprised that Regulus hadn't even batted an eye at the werewolf revelation, and he snarled, lips pulled back to bare his teeth. Regulus's head cocked to the side, looking at Severus dryly. "Are you attempting to intimidate me or mimic the werewolf you so hate?" Regulus asks, slightly curious. Severus doesn't answer so the smaller boy rolls his eyes.

"How did you convince my brother to tell you how to get past the Whomping Willow?" He asks again, leaning in closer until his and Severus's faces were only inches apart. He's mildly intrigued by the red flush on Severus's cheeks. 

"The same way you've gotten me to tell you the truth today," Severus mutters angrily, his jaw clenched. Regulus steps back, eyes widening slightly in surprise. 

Severus had used Veritaserum on his brother? Regulus blinks, mind going blank. All of his thoughts simultaneously come to a sudden halt as the pieces of what he knows fall into place. It makes sense that Sirius would have had to be forced to talk; his brother is loyal to his core, and he knew he'd never have shared something so vulnerable about one of his friends willingly. Especially when his friends, Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew, were the first people to show Sirius genuine kindness. Regulus, Bellatrix, Andromeda and Andromeda loved each other and Sirius deeply, but they were not allowed to be free with their affection, having to bury softness between cruelty. Sirius had imprinted on his friends so hard that he'd run away from home and risked disownment rather than cut them off. So yes, it made sense that Sirius would have had to have a truth potion shoved down his throat to utter a word about Lupin's condition. 

He could only assume the Marauders didn't know the truth about why Sirius told Severus how to get past the Whomping Willow. He didn't particularly like Pettigrew or Potter but they weren't the type to turn their backs on Sirius when he is, in this situation, just as much a victim as Lupin. He saw Potter when they all got the news that Sirius was in a coma; that distress can't be faked. James Potter sincerely loves his brother. Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew sincerely love his brother. They've made a mistake, a grave one, but they didn't have all of the information either. Likely because they didn't hear Sirius's side of the story, but people do foolish things in anger, and they had every right to feel angry at the betrayal, even though so much hurt could have been prevented had they simply allowed his brother to tell them what had been done to him.

If there had been shouting, though, Sirius would have simply fallen silent and taken it. Regulus frowns because Potter definitely has a quick temper. Pettigrew is meek, he wouldn't have made the decision to abandon Sirius on his own, and werewolves are notoriously pack animals who will prioritize their packs above all. Sirius is undoubtedly part of Lupin's pack, so Lupin wouldn't have been the one to abandon him. But Potter, with his temper, would have shouted at Sirius while his brother submitted to it, letting it happen. Lupin would have been recovering from the full moon, and Pettigrew wouldn't have spoken up on Sirius's behalf, likely in shock over the turn of events. So it would have been Potter who made the decision to ostracize Sirius, and as one of the most popular students in Gryffindor and Hogwarts as a whole, the entire house would have backed his choice for fear of earning his ire. 

But then he remembered the night in the Infirmary again. 'That distress couldn't be faked' he thought to himself again, sure of it. Potter had thrown up almost immediately and had almost hyperventilated himself into a panic attack. The past two months had been a series of unfortunate events, everyone acting under false assumptions and pretenses, and no one having had the full story to clear things up. He sighed, shaking his head. It would be the right thing to do to tell the Marauders what he'd learned from Severus...

He still had to collect Sirius's things from Lupin. He would do so then. 

Looking back at Severus, who had fallen silent and seemed to be waiting for a reaction. No, Regulus corrected himself, studying his friend. Severus was waiting for a blow. Well, Regulus had threatened to hurt him earlier. And he wanted to, after finding out Severus had been the cause of this whole mess. But he'd only threatened the older boy before as a means of getting the truth, and as satisfying as it would feel to hurt him now, Regulus would gain nothing. 

He steps back, away from the older boy. He's angry now, furious at the realization that the past two months could have been avoided entirely if not for Severus's pettiness and nosiness. Watching Sirius from a distance fall into a depression after being abandoned by those he loved most, watching Potter follow in his footsteps after Sirius fell into a coma, watching Lupin become increasingly feral as he and Pettigrew scrambled to keep their meager little pack together...it all could have been avoided. 

Regulus clenches his fists, hissing through his teeth. Severus caused the whole thing and had likely faced no consequences for it from Dumbledore. Regulus hadn't even realized his magic was beginning to bleed out until he felt sparks dancing over his hands and up his arms. When he looked down, he confirmed that yes, his fists were in fact sparking and his sleeves were on the verge of catching fire. With a huff, he waved the sparks out of existence and turned back to Severus, eyes cold. "Expect judgment for this, Severus." He warns darkly before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.

Regulus waited by the entrance to the dungeons for Lupin, pensive. To admit what Severus had told him, he would have to admit to knowing Lupin was a werewolf. Regulus himself didn't care, as the boy had never bothered him and he even found the other's presence pleasant on occasion, but Lupin was anxious at times and feral at others, so there was no telling how he'd take the news that another person was in on his secret, and a snake no less.

Still, Lupin deserved to know. 

Regulus sighed, knowing he'd have to talk to Lupin's whole pack about this, too. He huffed, displeased, but began the walk to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't know the password, so he leaned against the wall and resigned himself to wait for someone to either enter or exit and request that they fetch the Marauders for him, only for the boy he was searching for to come out not five minutes later. 

Lupin looked wrecked, with red, puffy eyes, and his head hung low. He'd clearly been crying, and he was walking with his head bowed like a man being walked to the gallows. Regulus frowned, feeling sympathetic despite himself. He didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but keeping this a secret when Lupin had been so cooperative with him felt uncomfortable. And these were Sirius's friends. That, before, had meant nothing to him when he saw them as threats to his position in his brother's heart, but the image of Potter on his knees, tears in his eyes and hand grasping at his chest as he struggled to suck in a breath flashed before his eyes again. He couldn't keep this from them; they deserved to know.

"Lupin." He greets, keeping his voice softer than he normally does when speaking with the taller boy. Hardly enough to be noticeable, because he has a reputation to maintain, but softer nonetheless. Lupin startles, head shooting up. "I need to speak with you, Potter, and Pettigrew." He says in the same tone. "Somewhere private, where we won't be overheard. I need to share with you very delicate information." He adds.

Lupin blinks at him, baffled for a moment before he turns back to the painting of the Fat Lady. "Come on, then. We can talk in our dorm room." He murmurs. The Fat Lady, seeing Lupin's state, lets him enter without having to say the password. 

There are hardly any students in the common room, so Regulus gives himself a moment to look around. Subtly, of course. Reputation to maintain still.

The common room is a circular room, full of squashy armchairs, tables, and a bulletin board covered in school notices, ads, and a few missing pet posters. It's decorated in several shades of red, but not shades that were bright or eye-searing as Regulus would have assumed; it felt more like stepping into a room themed after autumn. 

Several windows look out onto the grounds of the school, and a large fireplace dominates one wall; the mantle is adorned with a portrait of a lion and various books. The walls are decorated with scarlet tapestries that depict witches, wizards, and various animals. There are bookcases located in the room, filled with various novels and forms of literature. He even recognizes some novels as Muggle literature.

He also noticed a couple of balconies with stone ramparts in the place of railing that overlooked the common room itself, one was accessible by the stairs that led to the boys' dormitory, and the other was accessible by the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

It feels significantly warmer than the Slytherin dungeons, and not just because of the fire roaring in the fireplace. The colors, the general atmosphere, the crackling of the fire, the lighting, and the students curled into large armchairs doing homework or chatting quietly among themselves make the tower feel cozy and quaint. Regulus finds himself hating it less than he originally thought. 

The few students gathered in the common room do look up when he passes, only peering at him curiously before returning to their homework or conversations. Regulus keeps a blank look on his face as he’s guided up the stairs to the male side of the tower. 

Going upstairs, he's led to the fifth-year rooms and then finally to the room the Marauders share. Lupin pushes the door open and enters, and again Regulus can't help but look around. Four four-poster beds covered in red eiderdowns with red curtains, each with a wooden nightstand next to it and their school trunk at the foot of the bed. The beds were flanked with windows on either side, and each bed had a corresponding wooden dresser located on one side near the nightstand. A wooden bookcase was located on the other side of the bed, each filled with books. It was easy to tell which bed belonged to whom just based on the books in the bed’s corresponding bookshelf. The dorm had stone walls and wooden floors, decorated with a soft red and gold rug, and the windows all had red curtains.

It was exactly what he was expecting. Though the Gryffindor rooms got significantly more natural light than the Slytherin ones, the only natural light they ever got was what managed to make its way through the murky waters of the Great Lake, since the wall opposite the entrance was made entirely of thick, magically reinforced glass to let them see into the lake. The bottom of the wall was lined with long, thick benches covered in cushions and decorated with some throw pillows, and occasionally the mermaids would press against the glass and peer at the students curiously. 

Potter and Pettigrew were curled up on the only bed without a trunk at the foot of it, and both looked no better than Lupin. Regulus looked at the bed curiously, but anything that his brother had added to it to make the space his own had been stripped from it and was likely located with the rest of his brother's belongings. 

Pettigrew is the first to look up, a "Hey, you're back quick,” on the tip of his tongue, only for his words to die in his throat when he lays eyes on Regulus, training behind Lupin. He doesn't know what to do, so he simply stands awkwardly by the entrance, not wanting to intrude. 

Regulus tries to tell himself he's only feeling pity for the three older teens, that he feels sorry for them and nothing more. But he can't stop the twinges of sympathy and even empathy he feels when he's reminded that they love his brother just as much as he does. 

“Regulus!” Pettigrew blurts out, surprised and wide-eyed. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to speak with you about an urgent, delicate matter. May I sit?” He responds, slightly stiff because he feels so uncertain. Potter, who'd been silent until then, pats the space next to him on the bed. Regulus finds himself pausing before stepping forward slowly, tentatively, and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Sirius's scent still lingers, and it brings tears to his eyes immediately. He tries to duck his head, looking away, and the other three boys have the decency not to point out his emotional reaction as Lupin also sits. Regulus gives himself a moment to compose himself before shifting and rearranging himself until the four boys are in some semblance of a circle. 

Regulus settles his hands in his lap before looking up at the others, who are looking at him in various states of intrigue. Lupin looks the most wary, whereas Pettigrew looks blatantly curious. 

“I spoke with Severus today.” He begins slowly, speaking carefully. “As you might have noticed, his animosity for my brother has increased over the past two months, and as they will be in the same house as of tomorrow, I needed to ensure he would not be a threat to Sirius. As everything seemingly does, it is tied back to the incident two months ago.”

All at once, whatever relaxation was in the room is gone in an instant. Lupin’s spine goes ramrod straight, and even Pettigrew’s curiosity turns to a sharp glare. Potter's face goes black, expression impassive. He's waiting for more information, and Regulus is pleased to see he's not blindly lashing out as he likely had two months prior. He's getting a hold of his temper, and that's promising. 

“How'd you get him to talk? I imagine that even for his friends, trying to get information from Snape would be like pulling teeth.” Potter says lightly, and Regulus nods in agreement. “Yes, it would be, hence why I shoved Veritaserum down his throat.” He says bluntly, and Pettigrew is so surprised by his answer that the teen snorts. Regulus frowns slightly, a little confused by the reaction. He hasn't intended to be funny.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” Lupin blurts out, seemingly shocked out of his initial suspicion. “I poured a truth potion down his throat and made him swallow. He wouldn't have said anything otherwise.” Regulus says as though it's obvious. To him, it is; any of his friends would have done the same, if not worse, to obtain information.

He gets three slow, concerned blinks. 

“And what did Snape tell you?” Potter asks slowly. “That Sirius told him how to get past the Whomping Willow into the Shrieking Shack, and the bloody fool went and did it. He said he's only alive because you saved him, and that he found out Lupin's a werewolf.” Regulus shrugs, his tone mild. The other three boys are tense, looking at him warily as if expecting him to lash out at any moment. 

“I only came to tell you because I figured you should know I'm aware of your…condition,” Regulus says, turning to Lupin. “I won't do anything with this information, before you ask. I have no reason to tell anyone else. You pose no threat to the other students.”

Pettigrew looks at him approvingly, Lupin looks bewildered, and even Potter looks surprised. “That's it? You don't care?” The black haired boy asks incredulously. Regulus turns to him, head tilted to the side. “Why should I care? This does not affect my life at all. Regardless, you lot are my brother’s closest friends. He'd skin me alive if I tried to blackmail you.” He snorts, shaking his head.

Potter looks stricken, and Regulus’s faint amusement dies. “That's not all he told me.” He admits. “Severus also told me how exactly he got Sirius to betray you as he did.”

“When we met the following day with Headmaster Dumbledore, Snape told us he goaded Sirius into it and that Sirius just blurted it out,” Pettigrew says slowly. “He lied to you,” Regulus responds solemnly. “He used Veritaserum on my brother, the same way I used it on him.”

The other three fall silent, and Regulus’s gaze drifts from one boy to another. He can see the shock in their faces turn steadily to horror, and it's most prominent on Potter’s face, whose jaw drops. His eyes go wide, slowly filling with tears as the realization sinks in. Lupin and Pettigrew wear similar expressions; both of them rattled to the core. 

Potter scrambles off the bed, rushing to the nearest trash can. His knees buckle and give out, sending him crumpling to the floor in a heap, bent over the trash can as he empties his stomach. Regulus, despite himself, goes after him, crouching next to the older boy and rubbing his back gently, attempting to bring comfort to someone he barely knows. Potter retches several times until all that comes out is bile, panting heavily in a useless attempt to catch his breath. Pettigrew appears at Potter’s other side with a calming drought, and when Regulus turns to look at Lupin, the other boy remains frozen in the bed, his eyes filled with tears.

“What happened was not your fault, you didn't know. And if I know anything about Sirius Black, it's that he won't hold this against you.” He says firmly to all three boys. “It's Severus’s fault for having used Veritaserum in the first place and for leaving that out during your meeting with Dumbledore. Everything that happened after is Severus's fault. From your perspective, you were betrayed by someone you held dear, and you reacted accordingly.” He says, eyes sweeping over the Marauders to make sure they understand his words. 

“It doesn't make me feel any better,” Potter says mournfully, having downed the calming draught. “I..I yelled at him, and I said horrible things, and he just stood there and took it. He didn't try to argue or to defend himself, he just…he just accepted it.” Potter says slowly, running a hand through his wild mess of curls. “Merlin’s balls, I told him he was just like the rest of his family, that he was no better than them.” 

“And we didn't stop you, or even try to listen to his side of the story.” Lupin finally speaks, his voice small and quiet. Pettigrew slinks back to the bed, gently pushing another calming draught into his friend’s hand. “We didn't…we didn't try to talk to him after. I didn't try to reach out or make sure he was okay. We just followed your lead, and the whole house did too. And it wasn't his fault. It had never been his fault.” The werewolf lets out a low, devastated whine, his eyes gleaming yellow. 

“You have a chance to make amends. Maybe not right away,” Regulus admits slowly, still rubbing Potter’s back. “But he's awake, and he's okay. He's coming back tomorrow. Give him time, yes, and definitely wait for him to come to you, but... It's not hopeless. Sirius had never had an easy time turning off his heart like the rest of us. My brother has always loved deeply, with all that he is. That sort of love can't be ruined over one bad misunderstanding.” He soothes quietly. 

It leaves a sour taste in his mouth to address the entire situation that snowballed so badly as just a bad misunderstanding, when it led to his brother falling into a coma for two weeks after spiraling into a depression without a support system to help him for a month and a half prior. Regulus doesn't even know why he's here, telling them all of this and comforting Potter of all things. He's hated Potter for years. Regulus should be relishing in the older boy’s blatant distress, but instead, he feels…concerned. He feels unsettled, even. 

Maybe it's because his brother clearly loved these boys so deeply, maybe it's because now he can see how clearly they love him in return, but Regulus can hardly muster the hatred for Potter that he had only a few months ago. 

Regulus doesn't know how he's ended up here, shifting to kneel next to Potter and continue rubbing his back as Pettigrew and Lupin comfort each other on his brother's bed. He hated these people not too long ago, but it seems they've been brought together because of Sirius, a boy they love like family, whom they treasure dearly. 

He pulls Potter to his side, and the older boy goes easily, collapsing into Regulus as if too tired to hold himself up any longer. He doesn't know what else to say, as comforting people has never been his strong suit, so he continues with the physical affection. It's not his favorite thing to indulge, but his brother was always fond of it, and he supposes that he's more tolerant of it from certain people. He's not close enough to Potter to feel fully comfortable, but Potter seems soothed by it, shifting so he can press against Regulus better, burying his face in the crook of the smaller boy’s neck. 

The position they're in is not comfortable, as they're both kneeling on wooden floors, but Regulus doesn't have the heart to complain, even as the fabric over his collarbone begins to grow damp with tears. 

Regulus simply continues rubbing James’s back as he cries, humming quietly; it's the only sound in the room besides muffled sniffles and whines. 

The atmosphere, despite the grief, feels peaceful.

Chapter Text

Regulus made his way out of Gryffindor Tower nearly an hour later, something inside of him not wanting to leave until he was sure the other boys would be okay. They were all blatantly distressed, despite the calming draughts they'd drunk. A shrunken chest was in his pocket, full of his brother's belongings. It was time to go collect Sirius from Saint Mungos, since none of the healers wanted to risk Sirius apparating on his own, despite there being physically nothing wrong with him.

He walked to the Infirmary as usual, the halls almost deserted as curfew drew ever nearer. His heart did feel a little heavy, unused to seeing such blatant displays of emotion because that wasn't the custom in his family. It made him uncomfortable, but he also wasn't enough of an asshole to just leave them crying like that, so he found himself staying for longer than he thought he would just to offer whatever meager comfort skills he'd picked up from Sirius and, at the very least, be a shoulder to cry on. His presence seems to have done something, at least. And he might be on a first-name basis with the Marauders, which would certainly be an adjustment, and all he really wanted from them was an alliance to ensure his brother's safety. 

The last thing he needed was rumors spreading that he was friends with Gryffindor's golden boys. He wasn't. They were simply working together towards a common goal. 

Regulus pushed open the Infirmary doors, only to stop in his tracks at the sight of his brother, still wearing the white hospital clothes, sitting on one of the beds, a sheepish expression on his face as Madam Pomfrey tears into him. "Sirius!" Regulus blurts out, storming over. "You weren't supposed to Apparate on your own! What were you thinking?! You just woke up from a coma not a full forty-eight hours ago, for Salazar's sake!" He fusses, looking his brother over for any injuries or, Merlin forbid, splinching. He steps back, satisfied, when he finds none. Right before leaning forward to slap his stubborn brother over the head. 

"Reggie!" Sirius pouts, widening his eyes to look extra pitiful. Tragically, it works. Regulus steps back with a huff, shaking his head. 

"He's alright." Madam Pomfrey says skeptically, eyeing Sirius as though she expected him to spontaneously lose a body part. "You are so lucky. You could have killed yourself with a stunt like that. Next time, just have patience, brother." Regulus says sternly, and Sirius takes the scolding with a nod, standing up. "Come now. You will be staying with me in the dungeons for the foreseeable future." He says, leaning over to take his brother's arm. Regulus bids goodbye to Madam Pomfrey before turning and tugging Sirius along, who goes willingly. "Staying in the dungeons? Why?" Sirius asks, aghast. 

Regulus rolls his eyes at his brother's dramatics. "Because your house has proven incapable of properly caring for you. I have already picked up all of your belongings, spoken with your former friends, and our cousins and I had a rather productive chat with our house to let them know that no harm is to come to you without it being perceived as a slight against all five of us." He explains as they walk, answering the protests he knows are already on his brother's tongue before Sirius could even speak the words aloud. 

"James, Peter, and Remus agreed to this?" Sirius asks, his voice soft and his demeanor subdued. Regulus nods in confirmation. "Yes, they were the ones to pack your belongings." He confirms before pausing, though not faltering in step. "Brother...I spoke with Severus earlier. He told me what happened, as well as enlightened me on Lupin-" Regulus cuts himself off for a moment before resuming. "Enlightening me on Remus's condition. You will not have to beat around the bush in that regard, not with me. I have told no one but the Marauders that I know." 

Sirius turns to look at him, his eyes slightly dull. Regulus frowns, displeased to see misery on his brother's face. He blinks, and Sirius has wiped the look from his face, instead looking curious. "So you know about Moony? Did they tell you anything else during the talk?" He asks, and Regulus's brows furrow as he shakes his head. "Moony? Who is that?" he asks, bewildered. 

"Oh, that's Remy's werewolf form. They're like two separate identities, so we gave him his own name. It's cliché, especially with Remy's name meaning what it does, we know. Still, it's funny and Moony growled at us when we called him anything else, so." Sirius shrugs, a cheeky look on his face. Regulus much prefers amusement to brighten his brother's sharp features, softening the harsh grey of his eyes, which crinkle in the corners when he grins. "Two separate identities?" Regulus asks curiously, and Sirius nods, grinning wider. "Yes! We don't know if that's a regular werewolf trait to have, or special to Moony and Rem because he refuses to accept his werewolf side. But if you ever saw Moony during a full moon, you'd get what we mean when we say different identities. They're completely different." Sirius nods, his hair bouncing softly with the motion; it's been recently washed, dampness still lingering at the ends of the black strands. It's tied in a low ponytail, but Regulus can already see that as his brother's hair dries, it's getting progressively wavier. 

He shakes his head, amused. "You've been around Remus during full moons? Close enough to see the werewolf?" He asks, and Sirius nods again. The halls are empty, the only lighting being moonlight streaming through the windows. In this time, in this place, it's just the two of them. There is a war on the horizon, and both brothers will have so many difficulties to face as they adjust to their new normal, but on this walk through the castle that has become their true home, it's simply them. Beginning to bridge the chasm that has grown over the years of distance. 

"Yeah, a couple times. He'd sneak away at night, and after like, two years of watching, we got curious and followed him, as thirteen-year-olds tend to do." He laughs. "Moony was freaked at first, because the only humans he'd interacted with before were Rem's parents, Dumbledore, and Madam Pomfrey, but he was playful. I think he's aware enough of Remus to know we were friends." Regulus hums, intrigued. He'd never known a werewolf, much less gotten close enough to see one prowl about on a full moon. But Sirius had always been the risk-taker of the two of them. "Moony's a sweetheart, really. Unless it's close to the full moon, and then they're both bitchy." He snorts.

"Oh?" Regulus says, subtly prompting Sirius to keep talking. Linked arm in arm with his brother, he lets the older boy's voice wash over him, soothing away the panic and fear he'd lived in for the last two weeks. "The transformations are painful, that's the part that leaves Rem with all the scars." He nods. "And close to the full moon, starting like three days before, is when Moony starts bleeding into Rem. His eyes can flash yellow, he starts getting possessive, hungry, quiet. Stuff like that. Because they're both in pain, and way more aware of each other than they like to be. Imagine putting a werewolf on the brink of transforming, enhanced senses even further enhanced, in the Great Hall during dinner. It's, and I'm quoting here, 'unfathomably overstimulating'. Which I fully believe, because if even I or James, and especially Peter, can get overwhelmed on bad days, if I were a werewolf, I think I'd just starve. Or go to the kitchens and skip the Great Hall entirely." He adds.

Regulus feels as though a bomb were dropped on him, dozens of instances he'd brushed off in the past coming back to the forefront of his mind with crystal clarity; the most recent of which was from only the nights prior, when he could have sworn Remus's eyes flashed an eerie yellow. "That explains so much," He breathes out, puzzle pieces falling into place all at once. Behaviors he had brushed off, which he can now recognize for what they are, with the context of Remus being a werewolf. The last two months, when he had been looking especially rough, must have been because Sirius wasn't present during the full moons, which seems to be a common occurrence. 

"Are you normally with him on full moons? Or is it an uncommon occurrence?" He asks. "It's an every time type of thing. Well, for the others. For obvious reasons, I haven't been included for some time now. I can't imagine Moony is taking it well, since he has no idea what happened with Snape. From his perspective, I just up and disappeared." He murmurs, trailing off with a frown. "When's the next full moon?" He turns to look at Regulus, realizing that his sense of time is off-kilter. Just another thing he'll have to adjust to. "In about nineteen days, I believe." His brother murmurs, deep in thought.

"How exactly is it that you join Remus on full moons? I imagine Dumbledore wouldn't be happy about it." Regulus asks, also frowning. "Last year, James, Pete and I became animagi to give Moony a sense of pack. While he's still playful and not dangerous when we're humans, us being animals makes it easier to dodge when he wants to playfight." Sirius says absentmindedly. "Do you think I'd be welcome to join them when the full moon rolls around? They'll need my help. Prongs and Wormtail can't keep up with Moony like I can." 

"Prongs? Wormtail?" Regulus blinks, a little bit lost. "Prongs is James, he's a stag, and Wormtail is Pete, he's a rat," Sirius replies, his gaze distant. He's lost in thought, Regulus recognizes. While he doesn't like the idea of his brother showing up for people who didn't stand by him, he has more context now. If Regulus had been under the impression that one of his friends, if he trusted any of them as much as Remus trusted Sirius, had betrayed him...he also would have lashed out. With access to magic darker than most realize, he'd have been able to hurt them much worse than the Marauders had hurt Sirius. But he has also seen firsthand their regret, their pain. And Sirius does not do well alone. He relies heavily on his friends, and being without them has damaged him mentally and emotionally, not even acknowledging the coma. Perhaps showing up for the full moon, what Regulus realizes must be a very intimate ritual for them, could be the beginning of mending broken bridges. 

"You should go, then. If, in just over two weeks, you still want to." Sirius blinks, coming back to himself. Regulus has a small, sad smile on his face; his brother has confusion in his eyes. "You love them, Sirius. You love them so dearly. And I have seen how they have taken your loss. They love you back, even if they made a grave mistake. You should go, see if you can rebuild the trust that was so thoroughly broken. You'll regret it if you don't." He coaxes gently, knowingly. Sirius softens, using his free hand to cup Regulus's cheek. 

"I want you to know something, Regulus." He says, his voice quiet but firm. His older brother is fully serious, no pun intended. "Treating you as I have for the last four years is one of the biggest mistakes of my life." He says bluntly. "I was under the impression that you were as angry with me as our parents were because of my sorting. I didn't reach out to you as much as I should have. I grew distant from you at school in favor of the Marauders. And you're right, I love them. I love them so much it hurts sometimes. The three of them complete me in a way I didn't realize was possible. But if I rebuild my friendships, I won't ignore you again. I won't let us go back to how we've been for the past four years. I want you in my life, I always have. And I was a fool to let our bond fizzle off as it has. It won't happen again; not with us, not with our cousins. I won't let it. You are the single most important person in my life, and I won't let you forget it again. I won't let anyone forget it again." Sirius says, his voice stern as his eyes bore into Regulus's, who feels the breath stolen from his lungs.

His eyes burn with tears as his heart burns with warmth. It was a worry he had been refusing to entertain, resting in the back of his mind. That Sirius would get better and things would go back as they had, with each of them distant and in their own circles, never together. He's never been the type to cry, to show distress in any visible manner. But his brother has ways to make Regulus feel like a small child again, desperate for comfort from the one person willing to give it to him.

In an uncharacteristic display, Regulus lurches forward and wraps his arms around his brother's middle, burying his face in Sirius's shoulder. When he breathes in, he's soothed by the scent of the soaps Sirius has used his whole life (though it's a mystery how he got to them in Saint Mungos) and a scent uniquely his, something sharp like lightning but tart like a green apple. It's the scent of magic curling beneath Sirius's skin, and it makes Regulus scrunch up his nose, a sneeze rising in his throat only for the sensation to fade away after a moment. Sirius chuckles softly, burying his hand in Regulus's hair, which he'd been growing out in a subtle attempt to resemble his brother, and running his fingers through the soft locks. 

Regulus basks in his brother's presence for a long minute before finally pulling away. Before letting him go completely, Sirius leans down to plant a gentle kiss on Regulus's forehead, an easy and tender affection of which neither has indulged in for years. Sirius relinks their arms, and they resume their walk to the dungeons in silence before Regulus realizes something else. "You never told me what your animagus form is." He points out. Sirius laughs again, shaking his head fondly before releasing his brother's arm and stepping back. In the span of one blink and the next, where Sirius once stood is a large, shaggy black dog. Standing normally, its head reaches Regulus's belly. He does not doubt that on its hind legs, it would rival him in height.

"A fucking grim?!" He blurts out, gobsmacked with his jaw on the floor. He swears the dog would be smirking if it could. Sirius walks a lap around Regulus before shifting back, shit-eating smirk on his face. He just preens, pleased by the awe in Regulus's voice. "So what nickname did you get? If James is Prongs and Peter is Wormtail?" Regulus asks, feeling giddy like a little boy again at a reminder of how cool his older brother is. Only internally, of course. He's shown enough emotion for the week.

"I got Padfoot." Sirius laughs, once more linking his arm with Regulus. "Moony, Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail. The Marauders." Regulus looks at his brother, awestruck once more when he hears the bark in his laughter; the only animagus he'd known is Professor McGonagall. It has always fascinated him how animagi adopt the traits of the animal they can shift into, and once more, dozens of instances come to mind of what he can now recognize to be dog-like behaviors in his brother.

"I can't handle any more revelations today. My head is already hurting." He groans, and Sirius just laughs louder. "Well, come on then! I'm tired too, you know. Appreciation takes a lot out of someone."

"It would have been easier on you if you had waited for me to come get you like you were supposed to," Regulus gripes, and Sirius just quirks a brow. "Literally, when have you known me to do what's expected of me?" He snarks, and Regulus contemplates the benefits of strangling his brother. He'd gotten him back, but at the cost of his sanity. 

"You couldn't listen to the healers one time?" He asks, exasperated. Sirius looks at him dryly, which is an answer in and of itself. "You're going to be the death of me," Regulus says, resigned to his fate. Sirius flicks his long-suffering brother on the forehead, his gaze sharpening unbeknownst to Regulus. 

"Who will I be rooming with?" Sirius changes the topic. "Me, of course. I share a room with Caius Avery, Evan Rosier, and Barty Crouch Jr. We don't have a fifth roommate, meaning we have an empty bed for you. Evan and Caius will most likely leave you alone, but you know how Barty is. He means well, but..." Regulus trails off, not wanting to give his brother a bad impression of one of his dearest friends, however, not wanting to lie, either. "But he's insane?" Sirius finishes, and Regulus nods sheepishly. "They're my friends. I wouldn't trust them around you if I thought they'd hurt or disturb you." He sighs, and Sirius leans down to press another peck to his forehead. "I know, Reggie. I'm only teasing." He reassures, grin softening into a smile. 

Before either know it, they're standing in front of the Slytherin wall. Regulus murmurs the password, and he sees Sirius murmur it under his breath out of the corner of his eye, memorizing it. The door opens and both brothers step inside; in the common room are a few students, reading by the fireplace or studying last minute. A dozen or so students, varying in years. They all look up when Regulus and Sirius enter, but all it takes is one heated glare to get everyone to return to what they were doing before without saying a word. 

Sirius coughs to hide a chuckle, incapable of finding Regulus intimidating after having done the brunt of raising his younger brother. Sure, his parents handled discipline, culture, history, traditions, and magic. They taught them what they'd need to not embarrass the family in front of others, and nothing else. Sirius is the one who would comfort Regulus when he was still just a newborn, Sirius a toddler himself as he snuck into his brother's room to rock his cradle until the baby settled down. Sirius was the one who would teach Regulus magic with patience, correcting mistakes with examples instead of blows or curses. Sirius was the one who taught Regulus how to be a person. 

He had seen too many of his brother's embarrassing moments to ever be scared or even wary of him. The same went for his younger cousins, and even Bellatrix, who was the same age as him. He had helped her rear and raise the other two. No member of his generation could ever try to betray him, not when he had so much blackmail in the form of memories. He was the first. He saw everything.

Sirius is guided through the common room, subtly looking around curiously. The room is colder in both atmosphere and temperature, but he's used to colder temperatures; a manor as ancient as the Blacks is icy in the summer, and almost snowing during winter. Which is miserable for someone who runs cold, like Sirius and Regulus. 

Regulus pulls him down the hallway of the fourth-year dorms and almost shoves his brother into the room. Evan and Barty are settled on Caius's bed, Evan and Caius sitting with their legs crossed while Barty lies on his belly, legs kicking absentmindedly in the air. All three boys look up when Regulus enters, and subsequently freeze when they lay eyes on Sirius.

The older boy has smoothed his face into something blank, expressionless and even cold. He knows how to handle purebloods, and despite Regulus's assurance that he trusts these boys, Sirius doesn't know their characters. He allows no emotion to show on his features beyond a tilt of his head to the side, a slight show of curiosity. 

"Evan, Caius, Barty. As you know, this is my older brother. He'll be staying with us for the time being." Regulus reiterates. Evan and Caius look warily at Sirius, but Barty brightens, lips pulling up into an eerily wide grin as he scrambles off the bed. "Hello!" He purrs, leaning in close to Sirius until their faces are centimeters apart. Barty is the tallest of their group, only inches shorter than Sirius. 

Regulus steps back, observing the interaction cautiously; he had warned Sirius, and his friends had observed his brother from afar for quite some time now. But this was their first time actually meeting him in person, and how Sirius reacted would shape their opinion of him. Sirius, however, didn't tense at the slightly shorter boy suddenly in his face. If anything, he relaxed. 

"Hello, Barty," Sirius says slowly, not once breaking eye contact. Regulus could recognize his friend lying on the insanity a bit thick, pushing boundaries to see if he'd scare Sirius off. Regulus knew he wouldn't. 

"So you're the older brother we've heard so much about." He croons, smile widening further. "I imagine it must sting to wake up after two weeks and be moved into the den of snakes you've hated so heatedly for years now. I'm sure Mommy and Daddy must be happy, though." Regulus keeps his own face impassive, but he'd have grimaced at the comment about his parents if he had less self-control. He had been so worried about his brother for the past two weeks that he had forgotten about his parents entirely, and knew he would have to, at some point, update them on the situation. 

"After the events leading up to my coma, I don't think staying in the Gryffindor tower would have been much better," Sirius says bluntly. "As for my parents, they're either overjoyed thinking this might be the beginning of me becoming the heir they always wanted or they couldn't care less. They did disown me over the summer, if you hadn't heard the rumors." His tone is dry, almost snarky. Barty looks intrigued. 

"So it's true, then. Reggie here wouldn't confirm, and I don't believe every rumor I hear. Though word in the halls is that you were in a coma after you tried to kill yourself." He says, voice still a low purr. Regulus doubts Barty can speak in any other tone. 

"If I had tried to kill myself, Barty, I wouldn't have failed." Sirius says with a small, dark smile on his face, his eyes flashing with something even Regulus doesn't recognize. His gaze bores into Barty's, who inches back with a brief expression of unease passing over his face for a fraction of a second. "Oh? Is that so?" Barty presses, never one to quit pushing until he's had it beaten into him. 

"If there is one thing my parents have taught me, Barty, it is how to end a life," Sirius says, his voice low and soft, almost dangerously so. Just the sound of his brother's voice in that tone is enough to make an icy shiver go down Regulus's spine. 

"Oh? You remember a lot of what Mommy and Daddy taught you?" Barty presses even further, leaning closer again. "It's hard to forget what's beaten into you. You would know, I'm sure." Sirius says blandly, and Regulus, for once, breaks his poker face to suck in a sharp breath. On the other side of the room, Evan chokes and Caius's eyes go wide as he clutches Evan's arm. Regulus is half expecting Barty to lunge forward, teeth sinking into his brother's jugular. The other half of him is expecting his brother to kill Barty first before the fourth year ever got the chance to attack. 

Barty's smile, meant to put Sirius on edge, turns into a genuine, amused grin. Still uncannily wide, of course. He cackles, leaning back to slap Sirius on the back. Sirius doesn't flinch. "Oh, you're funny, Black! I like you." He purrs, once more leaning close. This time, it's not to make Sirius feel uncomfortable, but an attempt at seduction, with only a 50% chance it's a joke. Regulus can never tell with Barty, honestly. 

"I'm glad to hear that," Sirius says, smirking playfully. Intrigue dances in Barty's eyes, and he looks like he's about to lunge forward for an entirely different reason. 

"Okay!" Evan finally cuts in, and Regulus breathes a sigh of relief. "You've gained Barty's approval, which is typically more difficult than a stare down and...whatever it is you're doing. You have gained our approval as well. Please stop." 

"What do you mean, it's normally hard to gain Barty's approval? He seems quite easy." Sirius smirks, and Regulus chokes while Barty cackles loudly. Caius tightens his hold on Evan's arm, cheeks turning red as he struggles not to laugh. Even Evan is having a hard time maintaining a poker face. 

"Introductions can be left for the morning; it is time to sleep." Regulus blurts out, long-suffering and flustered. It had somehow slipped his mind that perhaps introducing his flirt of a brother to his flirt of a friend was a poor idea for his sanity, and that of his other friends. 

Regulus fishes out Sirius's trunk, tossing it to his brother. Sirius rolls his eyes at the interruption, and Barty pouts but obligingly goes back to Caius's bed to retrieve the homework he was working on before slinking to his own bed to abandon the homework and grab some pajamas. Sirius puts his trunk against the foot of the empty bed and enlarges it, popping it open. Inside, his trinkets are lovingly packed, the delicate ones having been wrapped in paper to secure them. His bag and school materials are tucked between the trinket side and the clothes, all of which had been folded. And right on top is a letter. Regulus had forgotten about that particular promise. 

Sirius's amused smile slides right off his face. He looks down at the letter, hurt in his eyes for a moment before he instead grabs a shirt to sleep in and some shorts before closing the trunk again. Regulus reaches out, resting a hand on his brother's arm. "Maybe not now, with everything so fresh, but please read the letter at some point. I promised Remus I would make sure you did." He murmurs. Sirius exhales through his nose and nods, releasing some of the tension that had reappeared in his shoulders. "I will, Reggie. Don't worry." 

With that said, Sirius crawls onto the bed and closes the curtains, emerging dressed. The shirt he's chosen, black and short-sleeved, has had the neckline cut out to make it larger, and it has a faded design Regulus doesn't recognize. It must be a Muggle shirt, then. It looks oddly comfortable, though. Faded, yes, and clearly old, but because it's been worn so often. 

Sirius promptly got off his bed and collapsed into Regulus's bed, slipping beneath the covers and closing his eyes, waiting for his brother to join him. Regulus watched, baffled but pleased. Behind him, he can head Barty similarly crawl into Caius's bed. 

Regulus, eyeing Sirius's trunk, makes a quick choice. He strips to his boxers, slips on a pair of sweatpants he got from Sirius some years before as a gift, and opens his brother's trunk and retrieves a similar shirt. This one is long-sleeved as opposed to his brother's short-sleeved one, and it has an intact neckline, but a similar design. Regulus slips it on and is immediately engulfed in his brother's comforting scent. 

Then he closes the trunk and gets onto his bed, slipping beneath the covers and with a wave of his hand, the curtains close. Sirius slides closer, until his chest is pressed to Regulus's back and Regulus is being spooned. This is a position they haven't slept in since Regulus was a little boy, plagued with nightmares only his older brother could chase away. 

It soothed him more than he would ever admit. 

Regulus falls asleep easily, his brother's arms around him, feeling warm for once, both inside and out. Tomorrow is the end of the week, and then he'll have two days, uninterrupted, to spend with his brother. To catch up with everything he's missed in the last couple of years. 

It's the most peaceful he's felt in a long, long time.

Chapter Text

Sirius, for the first time in a very long time, woke up warm. 

Even in this time, he hadn't been eating properly for a while and was losing weight he couldn't afford to lose. A castle as large was Hogwarts was drafty, and autumn was well underway, the beginnings of winter on the horizon. Even at Grimmauld Place, his mother was fond of colder temperatures so the house was several degrees colder inside than whatever temperature outside. When Regulus was younger, he'd been a sickly child who would come down with a nasty cold almost every winter until he was nearly seven years old, and Sirius would curl around his trembling brother. Their shared body heat helped them both, and it was worth the beating he'd surely get when his mother inevitably found out.

He could occasionally get away with cuddling his friends or sharing beds, but it wasn't too common an occurrence because of his frequent and at times violent nightmares. But he'd been so exhausted the last two nights that he luckily didn't have any, and could share a bed with his little brother.

Sirius shifted with ease, resting his head on Regulus's belly. He noticed that his cheeky shit of a brother had stolen one of his shirts, and he huffed an amused breath. His sense of time was still off, and he didn't want to risk opening the curtain and being spotted by one of Reggie's friends, and quite frankly he was too lazy to do a Tempos. The quiet of the room had him suspecting it was still the early hours of morning though; in the dungeons beneath the castle, no sunlight would enter so he couldn't rely on that to tell the time. 

He took the time to just breathe and organize his thoughts. His brain felt scrambled, even more so than usual with new memories piled on top of the ones he already had. Being asleep for so long had certainly helped; he had a mental timeline, an order of events to watch out for. But at the moment, in the following weeks, he had to focus on the smaller changes. Spend more time with his cousins and his brother and see if he could nudge them away from the Death Eaters and Voldemort, mend bridges with his friends and especially with Peter. If he had memories only of the future, then Sirius would likely have killed Peter with his bare hands for betraying him as he had, for betraying James as he had. But the memories of Peter being a friend, a good friend and even a packmate, were also fresh in his mind and Sirius had always been a bleeding heart. 

He didn't know yet what he was meant to do with the memories he'd been given, but Sirius had his own goals to work towards; starting with saving as many people as he could. His coma, although an unexpected side effect, was certainly helping him readjust his opinions on people. Sirius had been so jaded in the future, hardened by all the betrayals he had seen in the war. He came from a time were Bellatrix hated him, his brothers were dead, Peter was a traitor, Narcissa was a Death Eater...the future he'd lived was his worst nightmare made reality. And he would do anything in his power to prevent it. 

He'd forgotten, along the line, how Bellatrix hadn't always been the sadistic, psychotic lapdog she became. How she was, at one point, a genuinely sweet girl who loved her family above everything and would have done anything to please her parents, even if it meant forsaking herself and submitting to the madness so prone to swallowing members of their family right up. Sirius had never been under the impression that Narcissa had truly believed in the blood supremacists cause; she was always the type to bury her own personality beneath the wants of her family and later on, her husband. Regulus had gone astray because he no longer had Sirius to shield him from the worst of Walburga and Orion's blatant manipulation. Peter likely felt isolated and alone even among his friends. So much of what he thought he'd known for sure was proving to be untrue and it felt as though his entire perception of reality was shifting.

There wasn't much he could do on the Marauders front yet. Despite the several big things he would have to focus on eventually, he would also have to pretend to be a regular student. That meant catching up on the schoolwork he had missed while in a coma. Sirius was, in terms of skill, likely ahead of even the seventh year. As were his cousins and his brother. The Ancient and Nobel House of Black had an image to maintain, and as such every witch and wizard in the bloodline began training at an early age. Even academically, Sirius was ahead though in class he acted like he wasn't. So while the assignments he would have to do would not be hard, they'd be tedious, and even worse, they'd be boring.

Things felt so much simpler when he was Padfoot. When he didn't have to be Sirius Black, student and heir and friend, but when he could just be a dog and not have to worry about people things. Plus, wandering around and scaring the crap of people because he was technically an omen of death was amusing. And like this, he could keep his pup even warmer. Regulus had always liked warmth.

He hadn't been Padfoot in so very long. Neither in the future nor his present. There was no time with a new war on the horizon, and there was no point when he was without his pack. Being transformed now felt like stretching a muscle that had not been stretched in a long while, and it felt good, comfortable. He yearned for his pack even now of course, because Padfoot came into existence solely for Moony, but that would have to be resolved in due time. For now, he let the steady rise and fall of Regulus's breathing lull him back to sleep.

Sirius woke up at a much more reasonable time, still transformed and with his brother choking on his fur beneath him. 

He yawns, leisurely stretches and completely ignores Regulus coughing and gagging and futily attempting to push the grim off of his chest. A moment later, he stands and gets off of his brother to transform back. "Good morning, little brother!" He greets cheerily as Regulus sits up, sucking in air desperately. The younger boy is a mess, his hair sticking up in every direction, clothes disheveled and covered in dog hair. He glares hatefully at Sirius, who grins and blows his brother a kiss before opening the curtain and climbing off the bed, closing the curtain back up behind him. He's sure his brother wants to compose himself first.

Sirius digs through his trunk to find a clean uniform, steadfast ignoring the letter still sitting carefully above his lovingly packed trinkets. He pulls out his messenger bag, since he'll doubtlessly need it, and tosses it on the bed only to find his toiletries beneath it. The other three boys in the room all seemed to sleep on Caius's bed, as seen by Evan and Barty climbing out of the bed to rummage through their own trunks for clothes before Caius himself does the same. Sirius doesn't bat an eye, instead ducking through the door in the back of the room leading to the dorm bathrooms. There are stalls for individual showers; he hangs up his uniform and goes into the one furthest from the door, rummaging through the bag of toiletries.

He hears the other boys wander into the bathroom as well to get ready for the day, everyone deciding to take a shower too. All five of them get out at relatively the same time, and it only takes a few muttered spells for Sirius to dry himself off. He gets dressed into his uniform and goes to the sink area, peering at himself through the mirror. He runs a brush through his hair a few times, then puts it up into a ponytail with a piece of ribbon. Behind him, the younger boys are beginning to finish up their own showers. Regulus looks at him curiously, padding right up to him. Sirius frowns when he notices his brother barefoot on the cold tiles.

"You'll catch a cold." He chastises quietly, and Regulus rolls his eyes. "Can you do my hair?" The boy asks, and Sirius sighs fondly. "Sure, brat. Come on." He huffs, and Regulus smiles, small but sincere. Sirius does to his brother the same he did for himself, carefully detangling the wavy black strands before pulling another piece of ribbon from his pocket and tying his hair up into a ponytail, ensuring it's not too high or too tight. He mostly ignores the other boys as they get ready beyond muttering a few "Good morning"s, focused on the task at hand.

Barty is observing them curiously. Sirius finishes quickly and steps back, pleased. Regulus preens, looking at himself in the mirror and seeing how he looks so similar to his own brother. Even Caius and Even look intrigued at the interaction. "Could you do my hair too? Pretty please?" Barty asks with a pout.

"Your hair isn't long enough for a ponytail." Sirius points out, faintly amused. "You could style it, though!" Barty pouts harder, and Sirius rolls his eyes. "Alright fine, get your ass over here."

Regulus steps aside and Barty happily bounds over, filling the space Regulus just vacated. Sirius takes his brush and runs it through Barty's short brown hair, taking a few moments to properly style his hair, leaving it swoopy and nice, artfully messy. Barty 'ooh's and 'ahh's in the mirror, turning his head this way and that to admire his reflection. Sirius smiles fondly, reminded starkly of Bellatrix. "Alright, come on. We'll be late, brats." He said, ushering Regulus and Barty out of the bathroom, Evan and Caius on his heels. 

Sirius grabs his bag and slips the strap over his neck, cross-body. Regulus grabs his own bag from his trunk and walks to the door, offering his arm to his brother. Sirius links his arm with Regulus, and they walk out of the room arm-in-arm. Just as they enter the common room, already filling with students, Bellatrix comes out from the hallway opposite of them, where the girls' dorms are located. She brightens immediately seeing Sirius, almost flying across the room and wrapping her arms around his neck, nuzzling her cheek against his. Sirius releases Regulus tow rap his arms around his cousin's waist, hugging her tightly. "Hey, Trixie." Sirius greets softly.

"Siri!" Bella almost chirps, her voice soft and pleased with just the slighest rasp. "You look well, cousin. Not in snake robes yet, but we'll wear you down soon." She teases, stepping back. She grabs his tie, red and gold, and tugs it lightly to which Sirius rolls his eyes, leaning down to plant a kiss on his cousin's cheek. "Not quite a snake, Trix. Just sleeping in their den." he chuckles quietly, and she pouts, stepping back as Narcissa takes her place. She also hugs Sirius tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek; he returns the favor. "Mm, we'll see about that, cousin." She teases, and Sirius only quirks a brow, a cheeky grin on his face. "Yes, I suppose we will." 

Narcissa steps aside for Andromeda to get her hug. She throws her arms around Sirius, and when he hugs her back, he lifts her up which makes her shriek, startled. "Sirius!" She chastises, breathless with giggles as she's set back down. "I wonder who the favorite is." Bellatrix comments sarcastically, and Sirius smirks. "Jealous, Trixie? I could toss you and Cissa around too so you don't feel left out." He offers, and Bellatrix considers it. "Don't even think about it!" Narcissa shoots down immediately, slapping her elder sister's arm.  

"At this point, we'll all starve." Regulus finally comments, his tone dry but his gaze undeniably fond. Andromeda rolls her eyes, pressing a loud kiss to Sirius's cheek to which he returns the favor before linking his arm with hers. "Off we go then. I'm pretty sure I'll need to talk to the headmaster and all of the teachers to get the assignments I need to make up." 

Regulus takes his other arm, and only then does Sirius become aware of all the stares of everyone else in the common room. The students gawk blatantly, not used to seeing the Black teenagers act their age or even like people; it's jarring to see them be so warm and familial all of a sudden, and especially when it's because of Sirius Black, the forsaken heir of the family. Even Lucius, Narcissa's betrothed, looks at her in surprise. Some students glare with blatant hatred, though most just look baffled. Regulus and Bellatrix don't hesitate to glare back, and within moments everyone is minding their own business. "House rules is that we go out in groups and never alone because we get hexed in the halls fairly often." Regulus whispers. "And whatever happens within the house has to stay in our dorm. If you're righting with someone, keep it in the dungeons but show a united front outside. Even though you're not really a Slytherin, even though you have the uniform of  Gryffindor, after what happened with the Marauders and then this? You'll be outcast. You'll be no better than us. So promise me you won't be alone, that you'll wait for us. Please." 

Sirius nods subtly. "I promise, Reggie. Either I'll be sent to my classes as normal or left to catch up on missing assignments in the library. And regardless, I know how to make my way around the castle without being caught." he says with a teasing wink. The five teenagers make their way out of the common room, chatting quietly amongst themselves. "I have to say, your door is way cooler than ours." Sirius admits with a grin as the bricks settle back into place behind them. "We know, don't worry." Andromeda teases, and Sirius releases her arm to flick her forehead for it. 

"Have I missed anything really important?" He asks with a sigh, wanting to know what to expect in regards to homework. "Nothing you didn't already know." Bellatrix reassures immediately. "Honestly, the professors have been taking it easy the last couple of weeks in regards to homework and assignments, probably because of what happened to you."

Sirius nods, humming. Behind him, another group of Slytherins is already exiting the dungeons. He thought he'd be warier of having to stay in the snake den, but he's faced war and come out alive; the fears he had before, when he was fifteen the first time around, seem so silly to him now. He's faced torture, terrorism, loss of loved ones, betrayal...if anyone tried anything with him now, Sirius knows with certainly he could defend himself. He's no longer a teenager, not mentally at least; he has memories of nearly a decade into the future. Students who filled him with hatred in his teen years, who had him suspicious and on edge, now feel like children. He has so many bigger, more important things to worry about that the thought of a seventh year shooting a curse at his turned back is barely alarming. His cousins would react almost as quickly as he could, so there was no point for him to waste energy being observant. Somewhere, Mad-Eye Moody was turning in his grave, Sirius was sure. 

The walk to the Great Hall was filled with whispered conversation as his cousins catch him up to the drama and rumors he'd missed. Sirius listens along, a fond smile on his face, and Regulus chimes in occasionally, but mainly just listens. 

Sirius feels content to follow along petty drama, for once not scheming or planning or in pain as memories of a different life turn his perception of reality all wonky. He doesn't need to respond beyond an occasion sound of intrigue. His cousins had always been such gossips, though Narcissa tried to pretend she was above such trivial teenage matters. Sooner than he realizes, he finds himself staring up at the large doors to the Great Hall. With a quiet sigh, he pushes them open and has to part from his family since students aren't allowed to sit at other houses' tables. Almost all of the Gryffindor students have already found their spots, and the only empty seats are only a few feet down from where the Marauders are sitting. 

With a grimace, he sits down and immediately feels Remus's gaze on him like a physical weight. He stubbornly refused to acknowledge the werewolf, not ready to face him or James and Peter quite yet. But the discomfort of being under such scrutiny makes his stomach churn unconsciously, and Sirius bows his head, looking intently at the empty plate in front of him. The last thing he remembers, the point where his new memories cut off, is while he's in Azakaban, completely isolated and half starved. Going from that to the loud, bustling Great Hall full of food, the smells and sounds are overwhelming and nauseating. His hands, resting on his lap, clench into fists and the light pain of his nails digging into his palm does nothing to ground him when, thanks to his mother, his pain tolerance is high. 

There are more and more eyes on him as time goes by, as more people notice his presence. Chatting and gossip turn to whispers about him, his name tossed around by a dozen people at a time. Not wanting to give anyone more to whisper about, Sirius puts a few English muffins on his plate, a small portion of eggs, and gets a cup of some type of juice. He forces his body to go through the motions, though the food tastes like thick ash on his tongue. 

He remembers being on missions for the Order of the Phoenix, on stakeouts or infiltration or espionage. Sirius would force himself out of his body, out of his mind; time would slip through his fingers like sand, and his body would continue going through the motions of what he was supposed to do. He felt like he'd taken a step back and to the left, observing the world through a haze. It helped somewhat, but he'd noticed the more he did it that it got harder and harder to wake up. Still, he forced himself into that state again. He doesn't look at anyone, nor does he say a word. He eats his breakfast, just enough to get him through the day without too bad of a headache. 

As soon as breakfast is over, as soon as it's time to go to classes, he barely has time to push his plate back before his cousins and brother are at his back. He stands up, still absent, and the next thing he knows he's by the gargoyle hiding the entrance to the Headmaster's office, Bellatrix cupping his face and staring into his eyes intently. She doesn't say anything, nor do her sisters or his brother. They know what happened to him, of course; they've all seen him go away. They've all had to go away themselves, when situations get too much. When crowds are too loud or smells are too overwhelming, when too much is happening at a time and they can't focus on just one thing to ground them. During punishments, it's harder to go away when the pain keeps dragging them back.

He blinks slowly and a soft little smile spreads over Bellatrix's face. "There you are." She purrs, pleased, and leans forward to nuzzle her cheek against his. "Here I am." He croaks, smiling back despite himself. "We should just go to the kitchens for lunch and dinner, bypass the Great Hall entirely." Andromeda suggests, her arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face. Narcissa nods in agreement. "We're already the talk of the school, and whatever we do will be twisted beyond recognition by the student body and their rumor mill regardless. It's best to avoid having to do...that...if possible." 

None of them really have a name for going away. They don't know what to call it. But they all do it, understand it, know how to bring each other back. 

Sirius nods, his movements feeling slow and sluggish as though he were moving through molasses. "You need to go to classes and I need to go talk to Dumbledore." He mutters, his words ever so slightly slurred as he tries to snap himself out of the haze. Bellatrix rolls her eyes. 

"We're going in a minute. We're worried about you and have every right to be." She scolds lightly. Sirius's pale cheeks flush just a little bit, and his smile turns sheepish. "Sorry?" He says, and Bellatrix, just sighs, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You're so stupid." She says lovingly, exasperated. "So very stupid. But it's okay because you have us again, and we won't leave you alone. You're one of ours. As long as you need us, we'll be here." She promises, and when Sirius blinks there is a flash of green behind his eyes. 

He blinks again, and there is no green. He focuses on his cousin, in front of him and blessedly real. Over her shoulder, he sees Andromeda and Narcissa and Regulus, watching this intimate moment and blocking the hallway, ensuring no one else could enter and intrude. Ensuring no one could see him so vulnerable. 

"I love you." He says, the words wrenched from his throat as if he'd have died if he didn't say them. Love is not a word their family throws around lightly; Sirius didn't know it until he came to Hogwarts, until he met his friends. His mother has never told him she loves him, neither has his father. His aunts, uncles, grandparents...they know no love. And even Sirius, who has known so many types of love, can hardly ever bring himself to utter the words. But he says them to his cousin now, desperate and rushed and so sincere. "I love you so much Trixie. Reggie, Andy, Cissa...I love you. More than you will ever know." He gently wraps a hand around one of Bellatrix's wrist, peeling her hand off of his cheek to press a kiss to her knuckles. Her skin is smooth and pale and cold.

"I love you too, Siri." Bellatrix croons, smiling. Her eyes crinkle in the corners like his do. 

Andromeda cheerfully returns the confession, not stepping closer but included in the moment all the same. Narcissa turns away, but the words are a whisper Sirius has to strain to here. Regulus has progressively lost all shame he might have had after knowing his brother and Barty for as long as he has, and doesn't hesitate to make sure his family know how much he loves them. Sirius has to laugh at his family's antics, a bark of joy that shatters the somber atmosphere. "Get to class." He says, lightly shoving Bellatrix away. She goes with a pout, blowing him a kiss over her shoulder as she links arms with her sisters and the three disappear down the hall.

"You too, Reggie." He says playfully, and Regulus rolls his eyes but turns, grumbling. "Go straight to the kitchens for lunch!" He orders as he, too, walks down the hall. Sirius laughs again, shouting an agreement at his brother's back before he turns to the statue, his spirits significantly lifted. He says the password and the stone shifts, revealing a staircase. Sirius takes a deep breath and steps forward, ready to face the music.