Chapter Text
"He’s so small.” An awed voice echoed through the silence.
Remus looked up to see James and Peter walking towards him, both still in their uniforms. Classes had only ended an hour ago.
An hour that felt more like a year.
Remus shifted on the uncomfortable Hospital Wing chair. “Well he’s seven. So, I suppose it’s only natural.”
“And how did he get to be seven, Moony?” Peter asked, one eyebrow raised.
James paused at the edge of the metal bedframe, still staring wide-eyed at the figure that lay sleeping.
Remus flushed, folding his arms. “I didn’t mean to.”
Peter didn’t look impressed. “You shouldn’t have been working without me there.”
“Well, we had an hour between classes and I just thought I could add the Dragon’s blood a bit early--”
“Are you fucking--” Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and took a slow, controlled breath. “What?” He asked, once he was able to look Remus in the eye.
The tips of his ears were on fire. Remus sunk down in his chair. “Sirius said it was fine.” He muttered, bouncing his knee.
“Sirius is an instigator.”
“He’s not rubbish at Potions though.” Remus tried again.
Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s not an idiot. He blew up your project in third year for fun. You didn’t think he might be trying to meddle just to see what would happen?”
“Well--”
“Well, nothing.” Peter shook his head. “Your love has blinded you, Moony. You’ve become a fool.”
“Shut up.” Remus snapped. Though he knew Peter was right. He was always too soft on Sirius. Always giving in to those bloody puppy-dog eyes no matter how much trouble it caused him.
A muted sound interrupted before Peter could continue the well-worn Remus is whipped argument. Remus glanced to his right and found a pair of big, grey eyes staring back at him.
Puppy-dog eyes indeed.
Fuck.
Remus, having never interacted with a child younger than eleven-years-old, felt a surge of panic that was frankly a bit ridiculous.
“Sirius?” James said, still hovering at the foot of the bed, broke the silence.
Sirius, drowning in blankets and a uniform shirt too big for his bony shoulders, stared at James. His hair was about five inches shorter now, sticking up in inky, black stalks atop his head, mussed from the pillow.
He looks like Regulus. Remus thought softly.
“Are you alright, mate?”
Sirius’s eyes darted between the three of them, fingers clenching around the blankets in his lap. “Mère?” The word was nothing more than a faint whisper.
“What?” James’s eyebrows pinched. He looked over at Remus and Peter.
Dread filled Remus’s veins. “Sirius?” He asked gently. “Sirius, do you know who we are?”
An hour earlier, as Madame Pomfrey had tucked Sirius into bed and sat Remus down to keep watch, she had told Remus that there were two outcomes in situations like this. Sirius’s body had regressed back ten years. Which, she assured Remus, could be fixed quite simply with a growth potion and a bit of rest. Or, Sirius’s body and mind had regressed together. That, she’d said with a small frown, would take a mite longer to heal. Then she’d patted Remus on the cheek and bustled from the room to track down Professor Slughorn.
Leaving Remus to stew in his guilt.
He was quite good at that.
Now, in the present, Sirius was staring up at him, eyes big and halfway to teary. Remus could see his bottom lip beginning to tremble. "Papa?” He hiccupped, voice tinged with a thick accent that the older Sirius only had when he was half asleep.
“Fuck.” James groaned. “Remus what have you done?”
Remus buried his face in his hands just as the large, wooden doors across the room flew open. A flurry of footsteps marched across the stone floor.
“Ah! Good, he’s awake!”
Remus, still dripping with guilt, lifted his head and watched Madame Pomfrey stoop beside Sirius’s mattress and cup the side of his face with the palm of her hand.
Joining James at the foot of the bed was Professor Slughorn, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore himself. Remus swallowed thickly as nerves began bubbling up among the dread.
This isn’t grounds for expulsion. Remus reminded himself, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Probably.
The look on McGonagall’s face was not reassuring.
“What happened?” She turned to each of them one-by-one, arms folded across her chest, before stopping at James who was already on thin ice after a particularly disastrous prank on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team last Monday. “James Potter, I warned you last week that--”
“I didn’t do anything!” James squawked, throwing his hands up in defense.
McGonagall didn’t look impressed. “Then do tell me how--”
“It was me, Professor.” Remus interrupted. His knee was bouncing again.
McGonagall paused. “Mr. Lupin.” She said shortly. “Explain.”
The eyes of all the adults in the room burned. “I’m doing extra-credit for Potions.” He mumbled, trying his best to speak as quickly as he could to get it all over with. “I went down after Charms to put the Dragon’s blood in with Sirius and it…exploded.”
Slughorn, well-versed with Remus’s inability for Potions, sighed. He rubbed a few fingers at his temples, as though fending off a migraine. “Mr. Lupin, I only allowed you to brew outside of class because you assured me that you would be working alongside Mr. Pettigrew.”
“I was.” He defended weakly.
“Then how did this happen?”
Remus’s chest hurt. “I didn’t mean to.” He whispered. “Sirius said--” He stopped himself, biting his lip, then began again. “I thought that it would be okay to put it in a bit early.”
“Mr. Lupin, you cannot possibly think that--”
“Sirius told him to.” Peter interrupted what was sure to turn into another one of Slughorn’s ramblings about Remus’s stupidity. “It wasn’t Remus’s fault.”
McGonagall took over then before Slugorn could reply. “I see.” Her lips were thinned, but the spark of anger was gone from her eyes. “Mr. Black is simply learning from the consequences of his own meddling.”
“That’s what I said.” Peter muttered.
Remus was back to chewing the inside of his mouth.
“And how is the young lad?” Dumbledore’s cheery question broke through the lingering tension without seemingly a care in the world. “Madame Pomfrey?”
“He’s seven.” She answered, still prodding at Sirius’s head. “Physically and, I’m sorry to say, mentally as well. It seems this affliction will be lasting the boy a bit longer than the afternoon.”
Remus swallowed thickly.
“I suppose you have the recipe for the Alesco Potion?” She said promptly to Slughorn.
“Yes, but it will take the week to brew properly if he needs to be aged back ten years.”
“A week?” Remus couldn’t stop himself from saying. He stared up at the adults in the room, horrified.
“Yes, Mr. Lupin.” Slughorn said, half-glaring. “A week.”
“Given Mr. Black’s age I would be inclined to send him home until the potion is ready. Hogwarts is not a place for young children.” Dumbledore said thoughtfully.
Panic seized Remus as he stared up at their Headmaster.
But James cut in, voice fierce and defiant. He was not afraid of Albus Dumbledore. “No. You’re not sending him back to live with those bastards. And besides, you can’t, he lives with me now.” James looked far too pleased with himself as he folded his arms and stared down Dumbledore. Almost daring him to say otherwise.
Dumbledore’s lips creased in a small smile. “As I said, Mr. Potter, I would be inclined to send him home. However, your parents are visiting family across the country this month, are they not?”
James scowled. “Yeah.”
“Then where is he supposed to go?” Remus asked.
Dumbledore hummed, eyes crinkled at the corners like he was laughing at a joke nobody else had heard. “I suppose Mr. Black may stay here at the castle as long as he is under supervision. Mr. Lupin,” The crinkle deepened, “as a Prefect I believe you are quite capable of watching young Mr. Black until we are able to remedy this situation, yes?”
Remus could feel his mouth hanging open. He most certainly was not capable. “But--”
“Albus, you can’t possibly--”
“And I assume Mr. Potter and Mr. Pettigrew would also be more than happy to assist if the need arises.” Dumbledore continued, steamrolling over both Remus and McGonagall’s protests. “Of course, Professor McGonagall, please do check in on them every now and again. We wouldn’t want any unforeseen accidents to occur.”
After one last smile, Dumbledore winked at Remus and walked primly out of the Hospital Wing, apparently deaf to McGonagall’s calls.
“Albus, this is ridiculous! Mr. Lupin is only sixteen years old, he should not be caring for a seven-year-old by himself! He has classes and responsibilities and not to mention--”
The door swinging shut with a bang was the only reply she got.
McGonagall’s face screwed up in frustration and Remus thought he caught a swear whispered under her breath. But when she turned around again she was mostly back under control. Though Remus could still see her clenching her fists.
“Horace.” She said through half-gritted teeth. “Go start brewing the potion.”
Smartly, Slughorn chose not to argue and trotted out of the room, probably eager to escape back down to the dungeons and away from McGonagall’s wrath.
McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose and blew out a slow breath. But before she could speak a tiny, watery voice pipped up again through the silence.
“Where?” Sirius was curled up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, staring at all of them with barely restrained terror. Tears were pooling in the waterlines of his eyes.
Remus’s heart clenched. How frightened Sirius must be.
“Where’s what, darling?” Madame Pomfrey was still knelt beside him. She reached over and took one of his hands.
Sirius took a tiny shuddering breath, lip wobbling. “Where?” He said again. “Où suis-je?” He hiccupped, wiping a fist over his eyes in a clumsy attempt to scrub away the tears. “Où suis-je?”
“Bloody hell.” James closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.
Peter groaned. “I forgot.”
“He knows French?” Pomfrey asked, staring in confusion.
“He only knows French.” Remus murmured. “He’s only just started learning English this year.”
McGonagall sighed out another breath that was very long and tired. “I will go get Mr. Black the younger to translate.” Her footsteps faded out of the room.
Sirius was still searching all of their faces. His chest shuddered every time he took in air.
Remus took a stab at the question when it became clear no one else was going to answer the poor thing. “You’re at Hogwarts, Sirius.” He said gently when he’d finally caught Sirius’s eye, praying that he’d answered the question correctly.
And it seemed he had because Sirius’s eyes widened just a touch. “‘Ogwarts.” He whispered, though his voice was still jumbled with sticky tears.
“Yes.” Remus smiled. “Hogwarts. Very good, Sirius.”
Remus reached for the box on the side table and pulled out a tissue to wipe away the snot and tears.
Sirius didn’t pull back, just sat with his hitching breaths as Remus cleaned up his face. “Mère?” He said quietly when Remus had finished.
Only wrinkling his nose a bit at both the mention of Walburga and the wet tissue in his hand, Remus said, “Your Mum is at home.”
“Where ‘Egulus?”
“Where is Regulus.” Remus couldn’t stop himself from correcting, falling into the habit after spending so many nights working as a tutor for the first-years.
A frightened pallor dimmed the excitement that the mention of Hogwarts had created only a moment earlier. Sirius teared up again, face creasing. “I try?” He asked. The question was near begging.
Remus felt ill. Guilt swooped back into his stomach tenfold. “It’s alright, Sirius.” He grabbed another tissue and wiped away the fresh tears. “You tried very well.” Remus attempted to praise, but Sirius only hiccupped, flinching when Remus reached towards his face.
“I try!” Sirius was bawling now.
Remus stared over at Madame Pomfrey in helpless terror, but she didn’t seem to be any more adept at handling the situation that he was.
Fucking hell.
Thankfully, before Sirius could burst into something considered full-blown wailing, McGonagall returned to the Hospital Wing towing Regulus Black along behind her. He did not look impressed.
Though that expression faltered quite instantly at the sight of Sirius.
Sirius fell quiet, staring at his brother with tears in his eyes. “I try?”
“Pourquoi tu pleures, mon chou?” Regulus said softly, pushing past Madame Pomfrey and sitting at the edge of the bed.
“I try.” Sirius hiccuped.
“You want to try again?”
“Yes.”
“Vous pouvez réessayer.” Regulus reached up and wiped away another tear with the hem of his sleeve. “You may try again. Yes.”
Sirius sniffled and glanced over at Remus.
Regulus frowned. An expression that quickly turned to a glare that almost, if Remus didn’t know any better, looked protective. “Tell him he may try again.” He demanded. “He doesn’t understand.”
Remus, who also didn’t understand, eloquently mumbled, “Right, uh, yes, you can try again, Sirius.”
“Where is ‘Egulus?” The question was barely understood beneath the tears and the accent, but Sirius finally seemed to relax, if only a tiny bit.
“Yes. Very good, mon chou.” Regulus praised. He looked softer than Remus had ever seen him before. “I am right here.” He reached out and tucked back a strand of hair that had fallen down into his eyes. “Je suis, Regulus. Je suis là.”
And at that Sirius burst into a new set of tears and threw himself forward to bury his face in Regulus’s chest, gripping onto the back of his shirt as if Regulus were about to disappear.
“Je suis là, mon chou.” Regulus murmured, stroking the back of his head. “Tu n'as pas besoin d'avoir peur.”
Remus felt very much like he was intruding on something he didn’t understand, an understanding that had nothing to do with a foreign language. So he was quite alright with being pulled away by McGonagall to give the brothers a moment of privacy.
McGonagall spent the next few minutes setting a list of rules and boundaries that they were to follow if they were to care for Sirius over the week. By the end of it all Remus’s head was swimming and he felt more out of his depth than he’d ever felt in his entire life. In fact he was seriously considering the merits of falling to his knees and begging McGonagall to somehow get him out of the responsibility when Regulus interrupted.
Regulus walked up to their huddle, tugging Sirius along by his side, hand in hand. As soon as he stopped moving Sirius turned and hid his face in his brother’s hipbone, clutching at the fingers in his hand like a lifeline. The uniform shirt he’d worn only this morning fell down around him like a dress. He didn’t have any pants on, they’d simply been too big and, in the rush, it seemed no one had bothered to fix them.
“I need to talk to you.” Regulus said grimly. The expression would’ve felt more natural had he told them someone had died.
“Well, go on, then.” James gestured. “We’re not stopping you.”
Regulus glanced up at McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey. “Alone.”
McGonagall pursed her lips for a moment, but as a woman well-versed in the secrecy of the Black family she did not resist, only gestured them towards Madame Pomfrey’s office.
Pomfrey’s office was cramped and smelled like antiseptic, making Remus wrinkle his nose as he crumpled into a well-worn folding chair. “What’s wrong?” He asked.
Regulus shut the office door with a soft click.
“I’ve explained what happened to him.” Regulus began as he walked over to Pomfrey’s desk. He lifted Sirius up onto the wooden tabletop with a soft grunt, settling him on top of a mound of scattered papers. Sirius peered down at them all curiously, swinging his feet through the air. His eyes were red and blotchy.
“He knows who you are now.” Regulus rolled his eyes. “That you’re friends.”
Peter snorted.
“But he is going to be…difficult to care for.” Regulus said carefully, looking at all of their faces in turn. “He does not know much English.”
“Funny, we’d gathered that.” James muttered.
“He is scared.” Regulus continued with a glare. “You aren’t going to understand him and he will not understand you. He--” Regulus’s mouth pinched. He stared straight at the door. “Has he explained any of this to you? Before?”
“A bit.” Remus watched Sirius play with the end of his tie, wrapping it around his fingers in knots. “We know you both only spoke French until you were seven. Then you learned English from tutors.”
“The tutors were…cruel.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less.” James was glaring, face dark with anger. “Fucking bastards.”
Regulus continued as if he hadn’t spoken which, Remus supposed, was probably for the best. “Father only paid them if we answered questions correctly. If our scores were high enough. So it was best not to get questions wrong. It was very difficult for Sirius the first year after his birthday. We had been coddled by our nanny and he didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to see her. Or why he was being punished.”
“Why was he asking to try again?” Remus’s question broke the uncomfortable silence that followed Regulus’s words.
Regulus was still staring at the door. “If we said a word wrong sometimes we were allowed to try a second time and we wouldn’t be punished.” His knuckles were white. “Sometimes we were not. But we were always expected to ask.” He finally blinked and turned his narrow gaze to Remus. “You must let him try again.”
“Of course he can, I wouldn’t--”
“I’ve told him that he’s to listen to you. Since you seem to be the most competent out of all the pillocks he calls friends. Don’t get him killed.”
“Thank you?” Remus flushed in confusion.
Peter pushed off the wall he was leaned up against. “Why don’t you just take him, then? Wouldn’t that be easiest? I mean, you’re the only one who can understand him.”
“No.” Regulus said shortly. “He has been disowned.”
“So?”
“He would not be safe with me.”
Regulus turned and, ignoring the rest of them, whispered something that Remus couldn’t understand to Sirius. Sirius nodded once with his big, puffy eyes staring, then threw his arms around Regulus, squeezing tightly.
Regulus lifted Sirius off the table and plopped him on his feet beside Remus’s chair. “Soyez bon, mon chou.” He whispered with a small smile, then straightened back up with one hand on Sirius’s head.
“Good luck.” Regulus said, though Remus couldn’t tell if he was talking to Sirius or the rest of them. With those parting words, Regulus ruffled his brother’s hair and left Pomfrey’s office.
“Well, fuck.” James said, staring at the closed door.
“Fuck.” A quiet, accented voice echoed.
“James Potter!” Peter cried in horror.
Remus looked down to see Sirius staring up at him hopefully. He sighed and rested a hand on Sirius’s head. “Fuck, indeed, Sirius.”
Sirius grinned from ear to ear.