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Chapter Text

The healer, Marius Underhill, casts a finite in total silence, and Arcturus Black tugs on his robes, even though they’re still pristine. When Underhill doesn’t say anything, Arcturus snaps impatiently, “Spit it out, man. I don’t have all day.”

“It’s something called Merriman’s disease,” Underhill says reluctantly. “It’s degenerative, and there’s no cure.”

Arcturus appreciates the fact that once Underhill delivers the news, he doesn’t sugarcoat it, and Arcturus isn’t surprised. The tremor in his wand-hand, which started a year ago, has been getting worse. It’s bad enough that he’s considered giving up his seat on the Wizengamot, but he’d wanted to be seen by a healer first.

Underhill had been willing to come to Black Manor, and his oaths as a healer will keep the information private. Underhill came through the floo, from his own private residence, so there will be no reason for gossip.

“How long do I have?” he asks evenly.

Underhill noticeably hesitates. “I can only give you an estimate,” he finally says.

Arcturus refrains from rolling his eyes, but only just. “Yes, I am aware that you’re not the arbiter of Fate, Healer Underhill.”

Underhill flushes. “Perhaps as few as ten years or as long as twenty. It is terminal, but it’s a slow process, my lord.”

Arcturus nods. “How long before it becomes impossible to hide?”

“That’s harder to say, but maybe a few more years, depending on the progression,” Underhill replies. He’s a fairly young man, and has only been out of his training for a few years, but Arcturus had heard good things about him, and his quick diagnosis has confirmed the reports.

Arcturus takes a deep breath, looking around his study. It’s comfortable, richly appointed with tapestries, bookshelves, and leather-bound furniture. There’s a fire roaring, because it’s early fall, and Arcturus has been more bothered by the cold recently. “Thank you for your services today, Healer Underhill. I hope that you might be available in the future, should I need you.”

“Of course, Lord Black,” Underhill replies, his dark eyebrows pulling into a frown. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news.”

“I didn’t need better news, I needed the truth,” Arcturus replies. “And I thank you for it.”

Underhill glances away. “I just hate giving this sort of news to my patients.”

“I’m sure,” Arcturus replies. He hands over a small bag with the galleons he had promised as payment, and Underhill tucks it away.

“I will be in touch with possible ameliorative treatments,” Underhill says. “It’s a fairly rare disorder, so I’ll need to research, but I will get back to you within the week.”

Arcturus says, “Thank you,” and then sees him back to the floo, before collapsing back into his wing chair.

His house elf, Cordy, pops into the room immediately. “Can I get Lord Black anything?”

“A fire whiskey, please, Cordy,” he says wearily. “And a light supper, please.”

“I makes your favorite,” Cordy promises and pops away. The glass of fire whiskey appears next to his elbow, on the table between the two leather-bound chairs in front of the fireplace.

Arcturus takes a slow sip and ponders his future. He is not a young man anymore. He’s outlived his wife at this point, and there’s only one path forward to ensure that the Ancient and Noble House of Black continues.

He has no real faith in divination, but there are some creatures that are more attuned to Fate than others—the centaurs, of course, but also the goblins. He has the money, and he could seek answers from them. He would like to know if his interference is required in order to set the House of Black on the right path, or if his continued non-involvement would be the better route.

And really, what does he have to lose? He already knows his own fate; whether it’s five years or even twenty, his time is limited, and his job is simple—to ensure his legacy.

~~~~~

Arcturus knows what will sway a goblin, and that’s gold—and respect. He shows the goblin to his study himself, serves the tea—goblin-preferred—himself, and nudges the plate of tea sandwiches towards him. Rockhand is the go-between that he’s been referred to, the one who could take his request to the seers of the goblin horde, and who will bring their answer back to Arcturus.

He has spent the last few months investigating every avenue. No human seer had an answer for him, the centaurs ignored every overture, and the Mermish response didn’t bear repeating in polite company. The goblins had at least listened to his request, and eventually named a price, which he had paid.

And now, here he is.

Rockhand takes a sip of his tea. “You realize that the horde does not usually make deals with humans to provide information from our seers.”

“I do realize that,” Arcturus replies evenly. “I appreciate the fact that you’re even entertaining the request.”

“Good tea,” Rockhand says. “I consulted with our seers, and they have informed me that should you not take appropriate action, the Black line will end, and the magical world will be decimated, including the horde. Therefore, we thought it in our own best interests to provide you with this information.”

“After I’d paid for the privilege, of course,” Arcturus replies, reluctantly amused.

Rockhand’s teeth are sharp behind his smile. “Would you deny us a profit when you have what you asked for?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Arcturus says. “But you still haven’t told me what I need to do.”

Rockhand looks rather put out. “I would think that would be obvious, Lord Black. You have to save your heir, as well as his brother if you want to ensure the Black line continues and prevent the worst from happening.”

Arcturus grimaces. “I suppose you mean that I should get involved.”

“If you don’t, both of them will die,” Rockhand says bluntly.

Beyond naming Sirius his heir, Arcturus had largely been absent from his life and Regulus’, particularly after his wife died. She would have been terribly disappointed in him, he knows, but he’d left them to their parents to raise.

But he believes Rockhand. Goblin seers are notoriously accurate, even if they rarely share that knowledge.

“I see,” Arcturus says. “Then I suppose I know what I have to do.”

Chapter Text

Sirius doesn’t pay much attention to the owl post, since he almost never receives mail, but then James’ hand shoots out right under his nose.

He glances up, startled, watching as the large eagle owl wings its way out of the Great Hall. James waves the letter in his face. “Were you expecting a letter?” He peers at it a little more closely. “It has the Black crest on it.”

Sirius snatches it out of James’ hand and looks a little more closely at the seal. While he hasn’t seen it in years, every Black knows how to recognize it. “It’s not just the Black crest, that’s from my grandfather’s signet ring.”

The great hall is bustling around them as usual during breakfast. Remus is quiet because it’s only a couple of days after the full moon, and it always takes him time to recover. Peter is a little farther down the table, seated next to one of the fourth years that he has a crush on.

That means James is the only one who’s paying attention, and he says, “Your brother got a letter, too. Do you think your grandfather knows what you’re planning?”

“I don’t know why he’d care,” Sirius protests, and he’s half-tempted to just rip up the letter without reading it.

“You should read it at least,” Remus says quietly. “It might be important.”

Sirius scowls, but he knows that Remus is the most level-headed of the Marauders, and he can always rip it up later. He breaks the seal and quickly scans his grandfather’s neat handwriting.

“What does it say?” James asks impatiently.

“Give me a little time to read it,” Sirius replies, a little snappish, although that has more to do with his rising anxiety at James’ question. He doesn’t see how his grandfather could possibly know that he plans on running away from home next summer, going home with James, rather than to his parents’ house.

But there’s a possibility that Arcturus could find out, however remote, and put a stop to Sirius’ plans.

After a few moments absorbing his grandfather’s words, he wordlessly hands the letter to James.

James reads it, and then passes it to Remus, who frowns. “Your grandfather wants you to spend Christmas with him.”

Sirius glances across the room at Regulus, who’s sitting at the Slytherin table with his own letter, and his brother looks over his shoulder, meeting Sirius’ eyes for the first time since Sirius had sorted into Gryffindor.

Remus raises his eyebrows. “Do you think he invited your brother, too?”

“Good chance of that,” Sirius mutters. “What the bloody hell is he thinking?”

“Maybe he just wants to get to know you,” James offers, uncharacteristically hesitant. “You are his heir, and technically, Regulus would be the spare. And he’s getting older. Maybe he decided to take an interest.”

“He’s been old as long as I’ve known him,” Sirius says, unable to accept that response. “And I haven’t seen him since my grandmother’s funeral. Unless you can be of some use to him, he has no use for you.”

Remus and James exchange a look. “But you are of use,” James says slowly. “You’re the heir to a most Ancient and Noble House.”

Sirius feels a mounting anger. “Fuck him.”

“Sirius,” James says slowly. “I get that you’re angry, but you said it yourself. He hasn’t seen you since your grandmother died, and now he wants you and your brother to spend Christmas with him? And he specifically said that he’s not inviting your parents.”

That only makes Sirius angrier, because it means that his grandfather has some inkling of how his parents treat him.

“I think you should go,” Remus asserts. “If only so you can tell him to fuck off to his face.”

That idea does have some merit, and then Peter squeezes in between Remus and Mirabella, who’s from their year but tends to ignore them, even if she always sits near them for some reason.

“What’s going on?” Peter asks eagerly.

Sirius feels bad leaving him out, so he allows Peter to read the letter, too. “But isn’t this a good thing? Your grandfather is taking an interest in you, Sirius! He’s the head of an Ancient and Noble House! This could open doors, for you and your friends.”

“For me,” Sirius hears, even if Peter doesn’t come right out and say it. James is set; his family has money and connections, and he’s his parents’ sole heir. Remus is—well, no one ever says it, but they all know how werewolves are regarded. He and James already have a plan for taking care of Remus, as much as he’ll let them.

But Peter, who comes from average parents, and is an average student, could certainly benefit from a connection with Arcturus Black.

The idea irritates him, but Sirius can’t really blame Peter. After all, Peter hadn’t been born to wealth and privilege, and he knows that.

“I’ll think about it,” is the only concession Sirius is willing to make at the moment.

And he does think about it, is completely preoccupied with his grandfather’s letter. That’s why, when he catches sight of Snape lurking around the entrance to the secret tunnel Remus uses to get to the shack, Sirius puts his wand against Snape’s neck with a snarl.

Sirius has been wandering around the castle alone before curfew, unwilling to foist his bad mood on his friends, who are playing game of Exploding Snap.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Sirius demands, backing him up against the wall.

“I know you’re hiding something!” Snape replies, trying to sound tough, but his voice is shaking.

Sirius digs the tip of his wand into Snape’s neck. “I’m only going to warn you once, Snivellus. You leave Remus alone, or I will make you wish you’d never been born.”

“You don’t scare me!” Snape snaps. “He’s a werewolf, and I’m going to prove it.”

Sirius has had enough. He’s off kilter enough that he punches Snape in the nose with his left hand. “Like I said, stay away from Remus.”

If he weren’t so preoccupied, he would have come up with something a little more elaborate, some way to really teach Snape a lesson.

He doesn’t think he’s dissuaded Snape from poking his nose in where it doesn’t belong. Or maybe they just need to make sure they know where Snape is at all times.

Sirius is still brassed off, and he decides to head back to the Gryffindor common room, but an idea is brewing in his mind. He throws himself on one of the couches and watches as James wins the round handily.

“I think we should make a map of the castle,” Sirius says in a low voice so as not to be overheard by any of the other members of their house. “One that shows us where everyone is at any given time. It will be brilliant for pranks.”

James gives him a look. “What made you think of it?”

“Snape was sneaking around again,” Sirius mutters. “Right near the entrance Remus uses on a monthly basis.”

“What did you do?” Remus demands, sounding worried.

“I punched him in the nose,” Sirius replies. “My mind was on other matters.”

James knows him better than just about anyone, and he says, “Your grandfather’s letter has really sent you ‘round the twist, mate.”

Sirius snorts. “Because I usually don’t resort to physical violence?”

“No, you’re usually more creative than that,” James comments. “Did you get detention?”

“No one saw us,” Sirius replies. “And I doubt Snape is going to report me. He won’t want to admit that I managed to get the advantage of him.”

Remus frowns. “But he’s still lurking?”

“We’ll make sure he’s not around during the next full moon,” Sirius assures him. “But the map would be very helpful in that regard.”

James’ expression is thoughtful. “You do make a good point. We should work on that.”

Sirius thinks it will be a good distraction from thinking about his grandfather’s letter and what it all means.

~~~~~

There’s never been any question in his mind that he would visit his grandfather for Christmas. Regulus, unlike his older brother, understands his familial duty. He’s also hopeful that his grandfather will realize that Regulus would be the superior heir.

Sirius has never been able to keep his opinions to himself, and he’s obvious with his disdain for pureblood politics and love of all things Muggle. Surely, their grandfather will see that and realize that Regulus is a true Black, unlike Sirius.

Granted, he’ll have to deal with his brother for two weeks, but Black Manor is huge, and he thinks he’ll be able to avoid him, other than for meals.

Evan Rosier is lounging on the bed as Regulus packs his trunk. “Are you going to make a play for your brother’s position? It would be a real shame to see the House of Black be led by a bloody Muggle-lover.”

Regulus glances up. “Of course. This is the first sign of interest grandfather has shown in either of us since our grandmother’s death. I would hope that he would see who the true Black is for himself.”

“I’m sure you’ll be perfectly Slytherin about it, too,” Evan said with a smirk.

Regulus offers a thin smile. “While I’m certain that my brother will be a typical Gryffindor.”

“What do you think he’ll say about the Dark Lord?” Evan asks, his dark eyes sparkling with holy fervor. Most of those in Slytherin from pureblood families are already talking about joining the Death Eaters as soon as possible.

Regulus has no idea what his grandfather will say about the Dark Lord, or becoming a Death Eater, even if he is a blood purist and no friend to Muggles.

“I don’t know,” Regulus admits. “My grandfather has retreated from the world somewhat over the last few months.”

“But he wasn’t vocal in his support of us even before his retreat,” Evan comments.

Regulus shrugs. “But he’s always been a blood purist. How he expresses that might be different, but that doesn’t mean he’s against us.”

“But that doesn’t mean he’s for us either,” Evan argues. “Don’t let yourself be roped into a neutral stance, Reg. If you’re not for the Dark Lord, you’re against him.”

Regulus feels a stirring of unease at that, not that he allows it to show on his face. He believes in the cause, but the idea that their grandfather could be a target, even though he’s the head of an Ancient and Noble House, even though he’s a blood purist, makes him wonder.

What if he chooses to remain neutral? What if he doesn’t want to make an enemy out of everyone who disagrees with them in the slightest?

“My grandfather is a known blood-purist,” Regulus replies neutrally. “I didn’t think we were in the business of killing our allies, particularly those with a seat in the Wizengamot, who could support our cause there.”

Evan snorts. “Don’t tell me you’re that naive, Reg. When Voldemort takes over, and takes his rightful place as the ruler of the Wizarding world, we won’t need the Wizengamot. Voldemort’s word will be law.”

Regulus has always been proud of his blood status, both because his family is one of the sacred 28, and because of his grandfather’s position. But he can’t tell Evan that. Evan speaks about Voldemort with the fervor of a new convert, and won’t listen to reason.

“I’m sure I’ll have more information by the time the holiday break is over,” Regulus says evenly.

He prides himself on being a Slytherin through and through, and he’s not going to let anyone know that he’s doing anything other than what’s expected of him—to try to get his grandfather to make him the Black heir.

Regulus shrinks his trunk and sticks it in his pocket. Most of the Slytherins are going home for the holidays, and Regulus finds himself in a train compartment with several classmates, all of whom have expressed sympathy or outright support for the Death Eaters.

They all want to know whether his grandfather is sympathetic to Voldemort, and all Regulus will say is that he doesn’t know, and he plans to ask.

Regulus isn’t surprised when their grandfather doesn’t meet them. Sirius shares an enthusiastic hug with Potter as they part on the platform, pounding him on the back, whereas Regulus bids his classmates a subdued farewell. The man holding a sign that reads “Black” is middle-aged, and as they both approach from different directions, he says, “Your grandfather asked me to deliver you to Black Manor. My name is Hershel Myer, and I’m the Black family solicitor.”

“Where’s your proof?” Sirius asks, and Regulus notices that Sirius angles his body between the man and Regulus, reminding him of when Sirius would come between him and their mother, in particular.

The man hands Sirius a parchment, and Sirius reads it, then he hands it to Regulus. Regulus is a little surprised by that, but the handwriting matches that of the letter on the original invitation.

Regulus shrugs, unwilling to say anything, because he’s maintained his silence with his brother for years now.

“All right, fine,” Sirius says ungraciously. “I guess you work for our grandfather.”

Myers smiles thinly. “I’ll side-along both of you.”

Regulus knows that it’s rare for a wizard to have enough power to side-along two at once, and Sirius doesn’t appear to be taking the man’s word for it. “We don’t know you,” Regulus says. “And I’ll feel more comfortable if you take us one at a time.”

Myers smiles thinly. “Very well. Who’s first?”

“I’ll go,” Sirius says immediately.

That’s a Gryffindor for you, and Regulus decides to let him go first, even though there’s no way for him to know whether Sirius has made it safely.

Myers apparates with Sirius, and then, a few minutes later, returns for Regulus. “Your brother is safe at Black Manor.”

Regulus shrugs. “Or our grandfather has hired you to kill us for some reason. Or someone else has. And if that’s the case, I’m dead anyway.”

Myers frowns. “That’s certainly an interesting perspective.”

The side-along goes off without a hitch, though, and Myers delivers him to the front door of Black Manor. A house elf greets him, which doesn’t surprise Regulus at all. “I am Cordy, Master Regulus. I take care of Lord Black.”

“Thank you, Cordy,” Regulus replies politely.

Regulus likes house elves, and he always tries to be kind to them. Kreacher has always looked after him, especially after Sirius left for school.

Cordy shows him to a very well-appointed bedroom, and resizes his trunk without Regulus having to ask. “Lord Black said he would give you time to rest and clean up, but is expecting you for an early dinner. Appropriate clothing is in the closet.”

Regulus checks the closet as soon as she pops away and sees formalwear, fancier robes and other garments than what he usually wears. That gives Regulus an idea of the sort of man his grandfather is, requiring a level of formality even from his family members.

He gets the message: this isn’t a pleasurable visit. His grandfather has an agenda.

Somehow, Regulus thinks he’ll be in a better position to handle that than his brother.

~~~~~

Arcturus wishes his wife were still alive. She would have loved having the boys in the Manor, and would have known exactly how to deal with them. She would have met them at the door with hugs, and had a plate of biscuits ready to go.

He doesn’t fear death, because he’s hoping to be reunited with her, but he wishes she were by his side now.

Instead, Arcturus falls back on formality, because that’s how he was raised. He stands at the head of the table, waiting for the boys to arrive. Cordy assured him that they’d been delivered safely, and he’s pleasantly surprised when Sirius arrives early, wearing the formalwear Arcturus had purchased for him. He’s slouching, and wearing a sullen expression, but he stands behind a chair with better manners than Arcturus expects.

Regulus is right on time, also dressed appropriately, wearing a neutral expression. Clearly, Regulus has been taking lessons from his Slytherin classmates, and is mastering the art of not wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Arcturus has little faith that Sirius will be able—or inclined—to do the same thing. And yet Sirius reminds him so much of Melania that he can’t hold it against him.

“Please, sit,” Arcturus says.

With permission issued, both boys sit down, and the food appears on the table. The roast chicken is already perfectly carved, the mashed potatoes are fluffy, and the vegetables are also perfectly prepared. There are soft, buttery rolls, and Arcturus watches as they feel their plates and begin to eat. Their manners are impeccable, but Arcturus notices that they are actively avoiding making eye contact.

He has his work cut out for him over the next two weeks. If the Black line is to continue, they’ll all have to work together, and he plans on making that clear to the both of them.

Dinner passes silently, and Arcturus does not try to change that. He has two weeks, and he plans on speaking to them both separately and together.

Once they’ve all finished, and the dishes disappear, Arcturus says, “I would speak to both of you this evening, but let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”

They repair to the study, and Arcturus pours himself a glass of fire whiskey. “Cordy,” he calls, and she pops in. “Get the boys whatever they’d like to drink.”

“I’d love a butter beer if you have one,” Sirius replies, breaking his silence for the first time that evening.

“Tea, please,” Regulus says. “Chamomile if possible.”

“Of course, young masters,” Cordy replies, and soon enough they both have their beverage of choice in their hands.

Arcturus takes a sip. “I asked you both here for the holidays because I have a very important matter to discuss with you.”

Regulus straightens, and Arcturus sees the interest kindling in his eyes. If he’s reading his grandson right, Regulus is thinking that he can take Sirius’ place as the Black heir.

“I’m dying,” Arcturus says bluntly. “Sirius will remain my heir. I don’t know how much time I have left, so I won’t mince words.”

Sirius’ hand with the butter beer freezes halfway to his mouth. “How long?” he blurts out.

“It might only be a few years, or as many as 20,” Arcturus admits. “I might live to see you two grow up, or I might be gone before you graduate from Hogwarts, Sirius. When I found out, I began seeking answers.”

Sirius frowns. “Why not a cure?”

“There is no cure, lad,” Arcturus replies, not unkindly. “And if there is one, I won’t be the one to find it. No, what I sought were assurances that the Black line would continue.”

Regulus takes a sip of his tea. “I assume that’s why you requested our presence.”

He’s too controlled for a boy of thirteen, Arcturus thinks, but he has some idea of what their parents had done to the both of them. He could have intervened, but his own formative years had been just as harsh, and that had been instrumental in forming the man he’d become.

“Indeed, it is,” Arcturus replies. “I wanted to be sure that the Black line would continue, so I contacted a variety of seers. The goblins were ultimately the most helpful.”

Sirius snorts. “Goblins.”

“Goblin seers are some of the best, brother,” Regulus sneers.

Now that is more like it, Arcturus thinks.

“They deal in gold,” Sirius protests. “How was I supposed to know that they were seers, too?”

“You would if you paid attention in History of Magic!” Regulus replies hotly.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Please, all Professor Binns ever talks about are the goblin rebellions.”

“Yes, but if you read between the lines—“

“What lines?”

“Boys!” Arcturus says, keeping his tone stern even if he is secretly amused. “Back to the point. I asked you both here because there are certain things that will have to change if you’re both to survive.”

The silence that falls is gratifying. He has their attention now.

“What’s going to have to change?” Sirius asks suspiciously.

“We’ll talk about your role later,” Arcturus replies. “For tonight, I require an oath of your brother.”

“What sort of oath?” Regulus, equally suspiciously.

“You’re going to swear on the Black family line that you will never join Voldemort,” Arcturus replies.

Regulus’ hand jerks, and tea spills over his hand. “What?”

“You will not join Voldemort,” Arcturus replies. “Or I will formally disown you, and cast you out. And I will do the same for any Black who swears an oath to him.”

Regulus’ expression is clearly torn, and Arcturus knows that he’d half-planned on joining up as soon as he was old enough, probably in a few years. “I have to think about this. It will put me in a difficult position within my house.”

Sirius is staring at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re the one who was always talking about family, and the importance of family, and how I was betraying the family, and now you’re going to sit there and defy our patriarch?”

“You don’t understand,” Regulus says defensively. “You don’t know what they’ll do to me if I don’t join him!”

“Are you saying that you’re not smart enough to think of a reason to stay neutral, like your patriarch asked you to?” Sirius demands. “You’re telling me that, as smart as you are, as Slytherin as you are, you couldn’t come up with some excuse?”

Regulus shakes his head mutely, and Arcturus almost feels sorry for what he’s going to ask his grandson to do. “You must. If you are to live, you must.”

“Living for the Dark Lord—“ Regulus begins.

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Sirius asks. “Grandfather is telling you that you’ll die if you follow Voldemort. He’s offering you an honorable reason not to join the Death Eaters. You can tell them that your grandfather asked you to remain neutral! Because he wants to be able to continue to build alliances, or whatever. Maybe because he wants to dangle a betrothal in front of the neutral families, especially since I’m clearly going to be dangled in front of light families!”

Arcturus is actually a little impressed with Sirius’ summation. He might be a Gryffindor, but he at least has some idea of the political realities without Arcturus needing to spell them out.

Regulus’ expression turns sulky, and he falls silent, apparently unable to find a way to argue with his brother.

“You have some time to consider,” Arcturus says. “But I’ll require your oath before you go back to school.”

Regulus sets his teacup down. “I’m a little tired. I would like to be excused.”

“Of course,” Arcturus replies. “Sleep well.”

Arcturus watches as Regulus leaves the room, noting the straight spine, but slightly slumped shoulders. He knows that both Sirius and Regulus will face great difficulties, but in very different ways.

Sirius rolls his eyes, and Arcturus fixes him with a sharp look. “Have some compassion for your brother,” he says. “I am putting him in a somewhat difficult position.”

“You’re asking him to swear not to follow a murdering terrorist,” Sirius protests. “What’s so difficult about that?”

Arcturus raises his eyebrows. “Ignorance does not become you.” Sirius slumps in his chair as he finishes up his butter beer. “How many in Slytherin would you estimate to be Death Eaters?”

“The vast majority,” Sirius mutters.

“Even neutrality can be a lot to ask in a situation such as that, although I will provide him whatever cover I can,” Arcturus says.

Cordy pops in and takes the bottle. “Can I get Lord Black and Master Sirius anything else?”

“No, thank you, Cordy,” Arcturus replies.

Sirius shakes his head. “No thanks.” When Cordy is gone, Sirius asks, “I assume that you want something from me, too.”

“I’m going to be expecting quite a bit from you as my heir,” Arcturus replies. “Do you understand why so many pureblood families are joining Voldemort?”

Sirius shrugs. “Why does it matter? They’re terrorists.”

“I don’t condone their methods, nor would I ever approve of allowing someone to subjugate anyone in our family,” Arcturus replies. “But you don’t have to agree in order to understand.”

“What does it matter if I understand or not?” Sirius demands.

“Because if you know your enemy, and you know yourself, you are almost certain to come out ahead in any battle,” Arcturus replies.

Sirius gives him a suspicious look. “You aren’t going to make me promise to remain neutral?”

“Could you remain neutral?” Arcturus asks archly.

Sirius grins crookedly. “Not as long as innocents were being threatened or harmed.”

“You and I aren’t always going to agree,” Arcturus says. “And there will come a day when I’m gone, and you will have to decide how to lead this family, and what that will look like for you. When I’m dead, it won’t matter what I think. Until then, I will try to impart whatever wisdom I can.”

Sirius stares at him suspiciously, and Arcturus knows why. His parents certainly wouldn’t have been so accommodating.

“We do not know each other well yet,” he adds. “And you have no reason to trust me, but I hope we can come to some sort of middle ground, because I want you to live and live well.”

Sirius doesn’t respond right away, and when he does, he says, “Does that mean you plan on getting to know us?”

“You won’t have to go to your parents’ house ever again,” Arcturus replies. “And if you want to spend time with your friends during breaks, I won’t oppose it. I would just ask that you spend time with me as well.”

Sirius’ expression is troubled, but he nods. “My friend, James, has invited me to stay with him and his parents this summer.”

“Perhaps you could spend half the summer here, and the other half with him,” Arcturus suggests.

He knows that he can’t press too hard, or Sirius will run in the other direction, and he won’t be able to influence his grandson at all.

Sirius nods. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask,” Arcturus replies.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll also head to bed. Thank you for your hospitality, Grandfather.”

It’s a start, Arcturus thinks, and calls for another fire whiskey.

~~~~~

Sirius keeps waiting for his grandfather to show his true colors—to be angry or violent or to demand that Sirius think a certain way, or behave a certain way. Instead, his grandfather exhorts him to think—really think—about things. He expects his grandfather to try to wring promises out of him—to promise that he’ll support pureblood politics, that he won’t follow Dumbledore, anything.

And yet two days into their visit, right up until Christmas morning, the only thing his grandfather asks is that Sirius think, and to have some compassion for his brother.

In Black Manor, without the constant threat of violence, and without his grandfather displaying the blatant favoritism that his parents had shown for Regulus, Sirius finds himself remembering his brother as he had been as a small boy, back when Sirius had been his protector.

Arcturus warns them that he’s planning to have company for Christmas Eve, and he expects them to be there, dressed formally, and ready to be polite. Sirius really can’t think of anything he’d like to do less, but he’d agreed to this visit, and that means he’s signed up for this gathering as well.

Sirius still doesn’t know how to feel about his grandfather, but he’s been kind, if stern. And if his grandfather could keep Regulus from joining the Death Eaters…

That was something Sirius considered a foregone conclusion, but the idea that he might not completely lose his brother is a novel idea.

So, he dresses carefully, and makes sure his hair is neatly done. His grandfather had instructed them when to arrive, and he and Regulus meet in the hallway, outside their rooms.

There’s a tense moment, where they’re staring at each other. There’s been some minute thawing between the two of them, and Regulus’ expression softens. “I think we’ll be the only two kids there.”

Sirius smirks. “Oh, I’m certain that this is a chance for Grandfather to show off his heirs.”

“Dangling us?” Regulus asks.

“That would be my assumption,” Sirius admits.

Regulus nods. “Then I suppose we best be going.”

It’s the most pleasant exchange they’ve had in years, and Sirius has his grandfather to thank for it, so he can pretend to enjoy himself for the evening. Arcturus beckons them over when they meet him in the front hall. “We’ll greet our guests as they enter, and then repair to the ballroom. There will be food and wine. You are both allowed one glass. I will let you two know when you can make your escape, and Cordy will provide snacks.”

There’s something about his grandfather’s calm, direct explanation of how he expects the evening to go that gives Sirius some comfort. Unlike their parents, his grandfather is clear about his expectations. Sirius suspects that if they disappoint him in some way, he’ll pull them aside and calmly explain what they’d done wrong, and why he expected better.

Sirius doesn’t trust it yet, and he’s not sure how long it will take for him to trust it—if he ever does at all—but his grandfather’s calm demeanor relaxes him more than he thought possible in the face of such an event.

As the guests begin to arrive, Sirius finds that he at least recognizes most of the names of those arriving. There’s Minister Jenkins, his face looking a bit pinched around the edges, and Director Yaxley, head of the DMLE. There are a number of members from the Wizengamot, including the parents of some of Sirius’ schoolmates like Niles Selwyn and Abraxas Malfoy.

Sirius feels a reluctant sense of pride as his grandfather introduces him as the Black heir, maybe because his grandfather seems pleased to make the introductions. It comes to Sirius that his grandfather is using them as a display of strength.

Given what they’d been told, that Arcturus is dying, it makes sense that he would demonstrate that the Black line was still strong.

And maybe, by the time his grandfather is forced to retreat from public life, Sirius will be able to take his place. At least, that’s what he assumes his grandfather is thinking.

Not that Sirius is going to give in, at least not right away.

There are floating trays in the Black Manor ballroom, and Sirius and Regulus are the only children there. Sirius finds himself cornered by Mr. Selwyn, who says, “You’re in Gryffindor, are you not?”

“Yes, sir,” he replies politely, wondering what he wants from him.

“I’m surprised that Arcturus would be showing off his grandson, when he sorted into Gryffindor,” Selwyn comments. “I would have thought that he’d select your brother as his heir.”

Arcturus’ hand lands heavily on Sirius’ shoulder. “Sirius displays an ability to think independently, which makes him ideal as my heir. His magic is strong and pure, and his grades are excellent. All of those qualities make him ideal to lead the House of Black someday.”

Selwyn gives his grandfather a sharp look. “You’ve changed, Arcturus. It leads me to wonder why.”

“And that would be family business,” Arcturus replies. “I like you, Niles, but please don’t question my grandson about his place in my family. He’s more than earned it.”

Sirius feels his face heat, and Arcturus squeezes his shoulder. “There’s someone else I’d like you to meet, my boy.”

Arcturus leads him away, and then murmurs, “Don’t mind him. We’ve been at friendly odds since your grandmother chose to marry me, rather than Selwyn.”

“Have you changed?” Sirius asks, because from his standpoint, his grandfather has.

“A glimpse of your own mortality will change any man, Sirius,” Arcturus replies. “This is Ajax Greengrass and his wife, Sarah. They are related to us by marriage.”

The man is stooped and elderly, but he peers at Sirius through clear green eyes. “He certainly has the Black look, Arcturus. I’ve heard you’re at the top of your class at Hogwarts, young man.”

“There are two or three of us who are always vying for top spot,” Sirius replies modestly, knowing that will play better than any kind of bravado.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck,” Greengrass says. “You have some very large shoes to fill.”

“I’m well aware of that, sir,” Sirius replies.

The truth is that Sirius knows all the right things to say, even though he can’t wait to get out of there. At the moment, he can’t wait to go back to Hogwarts, especially if this is going to be what life at Black Manor is going to be like.

But he spots Regulus across the room, conversing easily with the Minister and Yaxley.

“Regulus was born for this sort of thing,” Sirius mutters, as his grandfather leads him to greet the next Wizengamot ally. “Why didn’t you choose him as your heir? He’d have done a better job.”

“We may disagree on what’s best for wizarding society, but would you advocate for the destruction of purebloods and their ideals?” Arcturus asks.

Sirius quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. I’d like us all to find a way to coexist peaceably.”

“And that is why you’re my heir, “ Arcturus replies. “I would rather the happy medium. Perhaps I have strong pureblood ideals, but I’m willing to admit that bringing in fresh blood is good for our society as a whole. Just don’t bandy that about.”

Sirius smiles briefly, and his grandfather squeezes his shoulder again. “You’re doing well tonight. Keep it up.”

Arcturus stays by his side for the rest of the evening, right up until he dismisses Sirius for the night, and tells him that he and Regulus are free to leave.

Sirius knows that leaving abruptly will not look good, and he wonders if this is a test from his grandfather. So, instead of bolting and dragging his brother along with him, he makes his way slowly across the room until he reaches Regulus.

“Having a good time, brother?” Sirius asks when there’s a break in the conversation, and his interruption won’t be considered rude. Regulus is now talking to the Greengrass and Nott patriarchs.

“I am,” Regulus replies. “Has Grandfather released us?”

“He has,” Sirius says, “and I’m pretty sure there are biscuits involved.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Well, if there are biscuits, how can I resist? I hope you’ll excuse us.”

Greengrass and Nott smile indulgently. “Of course. Happy Christmas to the both of you,” Greengrass says, and Nott echoes him.

He and Regulus leave the ballroom and head for the nearest study, and Sirius immediately yanks off his tie. “Thank Merlin.”

“Come on, you did fine,” Regulus replies. “Grandfather was with you most of the time.”

“Probably because he wanted to be sure I kept a civil tongue in my head,” Sirius replies. “You, he can trust to make nice.”

Regulus treats him to a narrow-eyed glare. “Come on, Siri. You’re his heir. It makes sense that he would be showing you off tonight.”

“Or he could have been showing both of us off,” Sirius argues.

“You’re very kind,” Regulus says dryly. “But you’re the heir.”

“And you’re the spare, which means if something happens to me, you’ll be the heir,” Sirius replies, grinning when a plate of biscuits appears on the table next to him. “Oh, these look amazing!”

Cordy pops in. “Thank you, Master Sirius.”

“They do look really good, Cordy,” Regulus says warmly. “Thank you.”

“Young master is very welcome,” Cordy replies and pops away.

When she’s gone, Regulus says all in a rush, “I didn’t get you anything for Christmas.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “And that would be different from the last few years? I didn’t get you anything either.”

Regulus also rolls his eyes, and then takes a bite and groans. “Oh, Merlin, this is good.”

Sirius looks at him and sees his brother. “How about we start fresh?”

“What do you mean?” Regulus asks with his mouth full, looking like the kid he actually is.

“I mean, how about we forget that you sorted into Slytherin, and I’m in Gryffindor, at least while we’re here,” Sirius asks, because he suddenly wants that. He loves James, and his friends, but he misses his brother.

Regulus swallows the bite of his biscuit and then washes it down with a gulp of milk. “So, Black Manor is neutral ground, and when we’re here, it’s like it was.”

“I would like that,” Sirius replies sincerely. “I know you have appearances to keep up, and I won’t mess with that, but—I’d like to know that I still have my brother.”

Regulus’ expression softens. “Deal. Eat a biscuit. They’re really good.”

~~~~~

Regulus had expected to come here and convince his grandfather that he’s the better choice of heir only to be shot down, but he’s coming around to Sirius’ point of view. He wonders if that hadn’t been part of his grandfather’s plan in having a Christmas Eve party—exposing Regulus to all of the people that his grandfather knows and knows well. Intended or not, Regulus has been reminded of what he’d be giving up if he chooses to join the Death Eaters, and it’s a lot.

And he likes Black Manor. His grandfather might be rather stiff and formal, but he’s kind in his own way, and Regulus appreciates that he’d been honest from the first day as to what he expects from them.

When Arcturus joins them in the study after they’ve consumed their biscuits and are reading in companionable silence, he unbends enough to smile. “You both acquitted yourselves well tonight. We’ll open gifts tomorrow morning. There’s no reason for you to get dressed up. It will be informal. I hope you both sleep well.”

Regulus can see how those words cause Sirius to glow, and he thinks about how rarely—well, never—their parents expressed any sort of approval for him.

That’s the other part about being at Black Manor; there’s far less tension between the two of them, because Arcturus has so far treated them equally. Granted, he might be showing a slight preference for Sirius, but Regulus expects that, since Sirius is the heir.

Okay, maybe Regulus is a little put out, but that feeling is eclipsed by some unnamed emotion that has to do with his grandfather’s words of praise, with the knowledge that his grandfather might be offering something beyond price—

And Regulus has heard rumors about what’s required for initiation into the Death Eaters. He believes in pureblood superiority, and he believes their way of life is being threatened, but he has no desire to hurt of kill anyone, Muggle or otherwise.

“I’m going to bed,” Sirius announces. “Good night, Reg.”

“Good night,” he replies.

Regulus stays up late that night, mulling over his options, what he might be giving up, whatever he ends up choosing. He already knows what he’s going to do, but he still wants the time to think about it.

Sirius had been right; his grandfather has given him political cover, but Regulus has to figure out how to spin it.

Because if he doesn’t spin it right, he could paint a target on his grandfather’s back. The Death Eaters don’t discriminate between the Muggle-born, and the pureblood traitors who take a stand against them.

Regulus goes to bed very late, and he’s awoken the next morning by Cordy, who opens his curtains and places a cup of tea next to his bed. “Sorry, Master Regulus, but is past 10, and Lord Black wants to have Christmas morning.”

Regulus blinks up at the ceiling. “Of course, please extend my apologies for sleeping so late.”

“He not mad!” Cordy says. “He understands growing boy needs sleep.”

Regulus is glad that he doesn’t need to worry about getting dressed; he just needs to pull on a robe and run a comb through his hair put it in some order, and splash water on his face. Then he heads to the library where Cordy has indicated his grandfather and Sirius are.

There’s a Christmas tree, which hadn’t been there the previous night, and a modest stack of presents underneath. There are breakfast pastries on a sideboard, along with additional carafes of both coffee and tea.

“Good morning,” Arcturus says, sounding almost amused.

Regulus flushes. “I’m sorry I overslept.”

“There’s no real hurry,” his grandfather replies with a smile. “But I don’t normally sit around so late in my pajamas.”

Sirius smirks at him. “And I wanted to open presents.”

“And your brother wanted to open presents,” Arcturus replies.

Regulus can’t hold it against him. Had their positions been reversed, he would have wanted to open presents, too.

“Grab a pastry,” Sirius says. “I’ll pass out the first couple.”

Regulus grabs a pastry and a cup of tea, and Sirius passes him a present, and then passes one to Arcturus. “I’m sorry, I could only manage the one.”

Arcturus’ expression warms. “There’s nothing to apologize for, my boy.”

Sirius grabs a present for himself, and then nods to Regulus to begin.

The gift from his grandfather is that of a nice watch, engraved with his initials and the date. Maybe his grandfather knew, or maybe he didn’t, but Regulus likes watches, and this one is particularly well made. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “It’s beautiful.”

Arcturus smiles. “I’m glad you like it.”

Sirius is the next to open his gift, a custom-made wand holster, and Sirius is clearly pleased. “This is great. Thank you.”

Sirius’ gift to their grandfather turns out to be sweets from Honeydukes, which Regulus doesn’t expect to go over as well as it does, but it turns out that Sirius had asked around to see if anyone remembered which sweets he’d particularly preferred as a student. And then, when it turned out that those were considered old-fashioned and therefore not readily available, Sirius had found a way to source them.

“I haven’t had sweets from Honeydukes since I was a student at Hogwarts,” Arcturus says nostalgically. “Thank you.”

And then he pops a piece into his mouth, with every evidence of real pleasure.

Regulus is glad that he’d purchased a gift for his grandfather as well, although it’s just a leather-bound journal with his grandfather’s initials embossed on the cover. Still, when Arcturus opens Regulus’ gift, his gratitude is just as sincere.

The only truly awkward part of the morning takes place when he and Sirius open the gifts from their parents. Regulus gets a set of books that he’d been fancying on blood magic—generally considered dark by those outside of pureblood families—and Sirius gets a new shirt. It’s not even a particularly nice new shirt.

If Regulus is being honest with himself, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the stark disparity between their gifts. Seeing his grandfather’s frown, though, Regulus is acutely aware.

“It’s fine,” Sirius insists, catching sight of their grandfather’s expression. “Really, I actually needed a new shirt, so this is useful. I don’t need books on blood magic. Those books will go a long way towards proving that Regulus’ sudden neutral stance isn’t a knock on the House of Black or you.”

Regulus hears the warning in Sirius’ voice, and he privately resolves to claim the books as his grandfather’s gift, not his parents’.

Arcturus nods. “I won’t say anything about it then, but if you need clothing, Sirius, you only need to ask.”

“After this visit, I’m pretty sure I’m set for a while,” Sirius says with forced cheer.

Arcturus’ expression is somewhat remote and cold, but then he seems to remember that he’s not aiming his ire at Sirius, but at their parents, and he smiles. “Well, I think we should get dressed and eat lunch. No need to be formal today, boys.”

Regulus doesn’t really have casual clothing, so he still wears slacks and a button down shirt. Sirius has taken their grandfather at his word, though, wearing jeans and a wild button down that he’d probably picked up at a Muggle thrift store.

There’s an element of defiance to Sirius’ outfit, but their grandfather doesn’t even blink. “Good. Let’s eat.”

Regulus really can’t tell if his brother is more relieved or irritated by the lack of commentary, but he catches a glint in Arcturus’ eye that suggests he knows Sirius was trying to get a rise out of him, and denied him that reaction deliberately.

And Regulus is beginning to think that Arcturus is probably the one best equipped to deal with his brother.

~~~~~

Arcturus breathes a sigh of relief when the boys go back to school. He enjoyed having them with him, but he’s lived alone for a long time, and he’s felt like he’s had to be at the top of his game the entire time.

Plus, he has another meeting set up with Rockhand. He’s made an arrangement with the goblins to check back in with their seers after significant events, and having the boys over Christmas seems fairly significant.

He enjoys a few quiet days at home before Rockhand comes through the floo for their meeting.

“It seems you are to be congratulated, Lord Black,” Rockhand says, not bothering to keep Arcturus in suspense. Although, given what Arcturus is paying, maybe that’s part of the service.

“Our seers are no longer foretelling the deaths of your heir and his brother,” Rockhand replies. “That is not to say that your line is completely secured, just that their deaths are not a foregone conclusion.”

Arcturus breathes out a sigh of relief. “I had hoped I’d made headway.”

“I would say so, but I assume that you asked your spare to make an oath not to join the Death Eaters,” Rockhand says.

Arcturus smiles. “He took the oath. He was reluctant, but Sirius tipped the scales. He shows a surprising amount of political acumen for a Gryffindor.”

Rockhand makes a scoffing sound. “I will never understand the stock you humans place in arbitrary designations. You allow a hat to categorize you, and the rest of your life is predetermined on that basis?”

Arcturus laughs, and doesn’t disagree. “You’re treading on hallowed ground, Rockhand. Do you want a drink?”

“Fire whiskey, if you’ve got it,” Rockhand replies. “You’re my last stop of the day.”

Arcturus pours the drinks himself, knowing that he’ll appreciate the gesture. “Anything else you can tell me?”

“Your heir is still in danger, and it comes from his friends, but I can’t tell you who, or why,” Rockhand replies. “The seers were clear on that much, but agreed that the why was uncertain.”

Arcturus frowns. “I doubt it’s from the Potter heir. They’re thick as thieves, and closer than brothers. I’ll do my own inquiries, though. Thank you for the information.”

Rockhand shrugs. “Our seers have suggested that our future would be brighter if your heir survives. We can do our own inquiries.”

Arcturus smiles. “Thank you. I know that I’m invested in their futures, but it’s nice to know that others are as well, even if it’s not for purely altruistic reasons.”

Rockhand gives him a look. “I would suggest that altruism is always suspect.”

Arcturus is not the sort of pureblood with an inherent hatred of those wizard-kind classifies as “creatures.” He doesn’t approve of mixing with creatures of course, but he does appreciate that they bring certain important things to the table.

Sirius would probably judge him harshly for that, but that’s one of the reasons Arcturus values his input. Sirius has a unique perspective, and Arcturus still believes that he’ll be successful.

The Blacks need an influx of new blood and different perspectives if they’re to survive. Sirius is just the start.

“I would agree with you,” Arcturus says. “I prefer to trust those whose reasons for doing something are either stated or obvious.”

“You are much like a goblin in that respect,” Rockhand says.

Arcturus suspects that it’s a test to see if he’ll take offense, much like Sirius’ outfit on Christmas Day had been designed to invite a negative response. Now, as then, he doesn’t rise to the bait. “I will take that as a compliment.”

Rockhand laughs freely. “Lord Black, you continue to pleasantly surprise me.”

Arcturus smiles. “And I will take that as a compliment as well.”

Chapter Text

His grandfather arranges for them to be returned to Hogwarts via a portkey with the accompaniment of his solicitor, or whatever he is. Sirius doesn’t mind so much. The train won’t disgorge the returning students until the following day, and there’s a long walk up to the castle, their shrunken trunks in their pockets. Both trunks are new, with automatic options that won’t trigger the restriction on underage magic.

It has snowed, and no one has cleared a path, so once they’re past the gates, Sirius casts a warming charm on both of them, and then sends a ball of heat ahead to melt the snow.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Regulus says.

Sirius shrugs. “I’d hate for us to go back with soaking feet. It’s not a big deal.”

They trudge up to the castle, and their feet stay dry. Regulus comments, “I forgot about this.”

“Forgot about what?” Sirius asks.

“How you would do the little things like this,” Regulus says. “You’d just do stuff that makes my life easier.”

Sirius is glad that he remembers. “I tried.”

“Don’t be mad if I ignore you, okay?” Regulus asks anxiously as they get closer to the door. 

“You do what you have to do,” Sirius replies, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re the one who has to survive in that den of snakes.”

Regulus winces. “Well, you have to survive in that den of lions, and Grandfather said you would have died as well. Watch your back, brother. I know that you trust your friends, but the Dark Lord has a long reach, even into Gryffindor.”

Sirius knows that his brother is right. He hates it, but Voldemort does have a long reach, and he’s upping the ante every day. “I’ll be careful. You should be, too.”

“I always am,” Regulus replies. “That’s the difference between lions and snakes. Snakes always assume that they’re surrounded by people who are about to stab them in the back.”

“Maybe, these days, we all have to worry about being stabbed in the back,” Sirius comments.

They’re met at the door by both Professors McGonagall and Slughorn. “How are you both?” McGonagall asks, and though her tone is relatively even, Sirius can hear her worry.

“We’re good, Professor,” Sirius says with a smile. “We had a very nice holiday with our grandfather.”

“I’m delighted to hear it!” Slughorn says with a broad smile. “How is your grandfather? I went to school with him.”

“He’s doing well,” Sirius lies easily. “He just wanted to see us. It was good.”

Slughorn claps his hands together. “How wonderful for you both!”

“Mr. Black, with me,” McGonagall says, putting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. 

Sirius allows her to steer him through the castle, to her office, where she sits him down on the couch. “I knew your grandfather, you know,” McGonagall says, steepling her hands in front of her face. “I was a little surprised that he requested the presence of you and your brother, but not displeased by it. He always doted on your grandmother.”

Sirius hesitates. “He said he was getting older, and he wanted to get to know his heir.”

McGonagall’s expression softens. “That does make sense.”

Sirius shrugs. “Honestly, before the last couple of weeks, I didn’t know him, and I didn’t have any strong feelings about him, but he was—he was really great. I’m going to spend part of the summer with him.”

“And your brother?” McGonagall asks.

Sirius shrugs. “He liked our grandfather, too, and we—we’re brothers again.”

Her smile widens. “That’s wonderful.”

“Do you think we can avoid fate, Professor?” Sirius asks. He knows what his grandfather is fighting against, and he’s not sure if it’s futile or not. “Like, if we’re meant to die, can we avoid it?”

“I don’t believe in fate, Mr. Black,” McGonagall says. “We all have choices that we make every day, and that’s what ensures our fate, if that’s the word you’d like to use.”

“But what if we make completely different choices, and we still wind up where we were always fated to be?”

McGonagall’s gaze sharpens. “What do you mean?”

“The reason my grandfather asked us to come,” Sirius confesses. “It’s because a goblin seer told him that if he didn’t do something different, the Black line would die out with us.”

McGonagall blinks. “Well, that does make sense, from what I know of your grandfather. He has always been very interested in the purity of the family line.”

“But he still wants me to be his heir,” Sirius says. “Even though I told him I wasn’t going to change my stance.”

McGonagall laughs. “Archie was always very opinionated, and that doesn’t surprise me. He would want a strong leader for the Black line, and your brother is certainly more of a follower than you are.”

“My grandmother called him Archie,” Sirius says softly. “And Regulus told me to watch my back because Voldemort had a long reach.”

He wants her to say that he doesn’t need to worry, but instead she frowns, and sits back thoughtfully. “I would like to tell you that you don’t have to worry, that none of my lions are susceptible to Voldemort’s machinations, but that would be a lie. The Sorting Hat chooses people based on their dominant trait, of course, but people are so rarely easily categorized. I sometimes think that we have done you students a disservice.”

Sirius really isn’t sure what to do with that, but he’s pretty sure he agrees with her. “So, what do you think I should do?”

“Trust your gut,” McGonagall replies. “I doubt you have to worry about Mr. Potter, as he doesn’t have a disloyal bone in his body. I would say the same about Mr. Lupin.”

Sirius does trust his gut, and he knows McGonagall is right. That means that she has doubts about Peter, about his strength of character, and those are doubts that Sirius shares.

“I’ll trust my gut,” he promises. “Thanks.”

“If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me,” McGonagall says. “You have tremendous potential, Mr. Black, and I want you to fulfill that potential. I think your grandfather can help you in that regard, but you’ll need to keep sight of who you are, and your values. You will have to hold the line.”

Sirius nods. “I want to, and I want to protect my brother.” He’s not sure whether he should confide in her, but he wants to. “Grandfather made Regulus swear on his magic not to join the Death Eaters.”

She appears fiercely proud. “Good. He’s probably the only one who might have been able to do that.”

Sirius knows she’s right about that. “Yeah, I know.”

“Keep your wits about you,” McGonagall says. “But I’m very glad that you had a good holiday with your grandfather. It’s important to keep family close, if you can stand them.”

Sirius laughs at that. “True.”

“Go on with you,” McGonagall says. “Try to keep your nose clean this term, hm?”

Sirius gives her his best shit-eating grin. “Come on, Professor. I always keep my nose clean.”

Her lips form a thin line that Sirius knows means she’s trying not to smile. “Get out of here.”

Sirius leaves, going back to a mostly-empty Gryffindor Tower. There are a couple of students in the common room, a first year and a seventh year. Sirius doesn’t know either of them very well, so he just nods before heading to his dorm room. No one else is there, of course, and Sirius throws himself on his bed, staring up at the canopy, going over the last couple of weeks in his head. 

He has his brother back, and he has his grandfather to thank for that. Sirius doesn’t know what it’s going to mean for him to be the Black heir, or what his grandfather will expect of him, but the truth is, he’s feeling pretty good about the holiday, even if James will be disappointed that Sirius isn’t going to be spending the entire summer with him.

~~~~~

Regulus endures Slughorn’s well-meaning questions with as much grace as he can muster. He wants to be in Slughorn’s inner circle, because it will offer some measure of protection, even if he finds the man irritatingly obsequious.

“Your grandfather is a very powerful man,” Slughorn says. “I hope you appreciate what he can do for you.”

Regulus maintains a neutral expression. “I do. I know that my grandfather’s interest in me is important. He had a small gathering on Christmas Eve, and we met a number of important people.”

As he expects, that diverts Slughorn’s attention admirably. Slughorn wants to know exactly who had been there, what they’d said, what they’d done, what Regulus had said, all of it.

“I hadn’t taken much notice of your brother before this,” Slughorn muses. “Perhaps that was a mistake. I didn’t realize he was the Black heir.”

Regulus just barely refrains from rolling his eyes. “I’m not sure he’d be interested in joining your inner circle.”

“Oh?” Slughorn says, and Regulus knows that he can’t resist anyone who plays hard to get, and Sirius definitely will, whether Regulus warns him or not. “Interesting. Maybe you could help me with that.”

It would give Regulus a legitimate reason for speaking with Sirius while they’re at Hogwarts. “I might be able to do that, but I’m going to need your help, Professor.”

Slughorn smiles and waves effusively. “Of course, of course. Whatever can I do for you, within reason.”

“My grandfather has asked that I remain neutral,” Regulus says, knowing that he doesn’t have to say much more than that.

Slughorn rubs his chin. “Ah, yes, I can see why that might present some difficulty. I will do what I can, but you’re going to walk a difficult road.”

Regulus sighs. Slughorn hates getting involved in politics. He just wants to collect people with authority and power, and protect himself while doing so. “Thank you for the warning, Professor.”

“Not that I won’t do everything I can for you!” Slughorn is quick to say. “Obviously, if something were to happen to your brother, you would be the Black heir.”

And what he doesn’t have to say is that purebloods who don’t support Voldemort don’t have a long life expectancy.

Regulus smiles thinly. “Let’s hope that nothing happens to my brother. He might be a Gryffindor, but he’s smarter than he looks.”

Slughorn laughs. “I hope that he is.”

Regulus makes his escape soon after that, and wonders if Sirius’ conversation with his Head of House had been so fraught—and what Sirius is going to do with an invitation to Slughorn’s little club.

He’s grateful that the Slytherin common room in the dungeons is completely empty. Everyone had either gone home to their own family or with someone else, and the train won’t be back until the following day. 

Regulus sprawls out on his bed and stares up at the ceiling. His head his whirling from everything that’s happened. He doesn’t regret his decision, but he isn’t sure how he’s going to navigate the House politics.

He can’t tell anyone, of that he’s certain. If he did, he would be painting a target on his grandfather’s back, and he’s not willing to do that.

The best he can do is deflect, he decides. He still has two or three years before the pressure to join the Dark Lord becomes overwhelming. At that point, he might have enough contacts through his grandfather that he can claim to be staying neutral for political expediency. If he can walk the line, he might even—

Regulus stops that thought process. He doesn’t owe the opposing side or the Muggle-lovers anything. He owes his fellow purebloods his loyalty, but he doesn’t owe them an oath sworn to the Dark Lord, not when protecting the House of Black is paramount.

He shoves any thought of the other Blacks and what they might do out of his head. His parents aren’t going to become marked Death Eaters; they’d rather sit around and whinge about Muggle infringements on their way of life. Some of his cousins will certainly join, but Regulus can find reasons to stay neutral. 

He’d better, because his life depends upon it.

~~~~~

Sirius is reading an arithmancy book when everyone who returned on the train piles into the Gryffindor common room, which immediately changes from a quiet library feel to a raucous party. Gryffindors tend to be a noisy bunch, and Sirius can’t really tell if he’s happy to have the commotion.

He had actually enjoyed the quiet at Black Manor. After Christmas, he and Regulus had spent a lot of time in their favorite library, just reading quietly. Granted, Regulus had been reading the books on blood magic their parents gave him, and Sirius had been reading about advanced transfiguration, animagi, and creating magical maps, but it had been companionable.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss that.

James throws himself down on the couch next to Sirius. “School hasn’t even started back up again,” he says. “Why do you have your nose in a book?”

“This is for our project, not schoolwork,” Sirius replies absently, keeping his finger in the book to hold his place as he closes it to focus on James. “I spent most of my break reading up on animagi and advanced arithmancy for the map we want to create.”

James raises his eyebrows. “The visit with your grandfather went that poorly, then?”

Sirius barks a laugh. “No, actually. He was more formal than what I’m used to, I guess, but he was—he was kind. He confirmed that I was still his heir, and said that I didn’t have to go home to my parents if I didn’t want to.”

James frowns as Remus takes a seat nearby. “But we agreed that you were going to come stay with us!” James objects. “Come on.”

“He said I could spend most of the summer with you, or wherever else I wanted,” Sirius replies defensively. “He just wants—he wants to make sure I’m ready to take over as the Head of the House.”

Remus has always been the most perceptive of the four of them, and his eyes sharpen. “What’s wrong with him?”

Sirius rubs his eyes. “He didn’t say that I couldn’t tell you, but please don’t spread it around: he’s dying. He has a degenerative, incurable disease, and he doesn’t know how much time he has left.”

“So, he suddenly cares about you after all these years?” James asks incredulously. It’s a change from his position initially, but Sirius knows that it’s disappointment talking. “I hope you spat in his face.”

Peter joins them. “What’s going on?”

“My grandfather wants to spend more time with us, and he wants to be sure that I’m able to take over as the Head of the House of Black,” Sirius explains. “And he wants me to spend part of the summer with him. Me and Regulus.”

“How did things go with your brother?” Remus asks, derailing the impending debate.

Sirius smiles. “Really well, actually. We’ve agreed that it’s for the best that we don’t speak during the school year, to keep him safe, but we’ve reached an understanding.”

He can see James scowl. “I’m your brother.”

“You are, but Reg is the kid I half-raised, and—my grandfather was able to do something that I couldn’t. Regulus swore not to join the Death Eaters.”

That news sinks in, and Remus’ eyes are bright. “Your brother agreed not to join Voldemort.”

“He did,” Sirius replies, keeping his voice low. “And for that, I’ll always be grateful.”

He’s not going to talk about prophecies, or what his grandfather had learned from the goblin seers. There are some things that feel too private to share, even with his closest friends.

“Your grandfather is a blood purist,” James points out. “Even if he does some good things, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s part of the problem, unless he comes out against Voldemort.”

“And get himself killed?” Sirius asks. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but he’s an old man. He said he expected that we’d disagree about some things, but he asked me to hear him out and promised to do the same for me.”

James opens his mouth, probably to stay something else scathing, but Remus clears his throat, derailing him. “James, think about it for a second. If Sirius becomes the head of the House of Black, and he’s given his grandfather’s blessing, he could do a lot of good.”

“I could,” Sirius agrees. “Particularly for people like Remus.”

Peter also has an avaricious look. “Or for me.”

Sirius knows that Peter will probably do everything he can to ride Sirius’ coattails into a position of some renown, but Sirius knows that Peter doesn’t have a lot of advantages. Granted, Remus is far more handicapped, due to his condition, but he and James will do everything they can for Remus.

And if he’s the head of the House of Black, he can do that much more.

That idea appears to sink in to James’ head, and Sirius can tell when he gets over his high dudgeon and starts to think it through, the way that Sirius had.

“You had to take the deal,” James finally says. “To protect your brother, to protect everyone.”

Sirius sighs. “Now you’re getting it. And my grandfather can be quite persuasive when he wants to be.”

He can’t really explain what it had felt like to have his grandfather promise to listen to him, for his grandfather not to raise his voice or get angry when Sirius had attempted to push his buttons. Regulus probably has some idea, but his friends don’t. James’ parents are kindness personified, as are Remus’ parents. Peter’s parents are maybe a little cold, but they’re certainly not abusive.

“You’re not going to suddenly change all of your ideals are you?” James asks suspiciously.

“Grandfather didn’t make me do anything other than promise to spend a couple of weeks with him this summer,” Sirius says. “He didn’t make me promise not to join the Order, or even to stay neutral. I think he’s really trying.”

At least, Sirius wants to believe that his grandfather is trying, and that he might have some measure of family again. He knows that James’ parents are ready to take him in without question, and they’ll treat him like a second son, but his grandfather is blood.

Sirius isn’t a blood purist by any stretch of the imagination, but the lessons he learned as a very small child, prior to starting at Hogwarts, are still deeply ingrained.

Some things are more important than blood kin, of course, but not many.

“Let’s hope you’re right about that, Sirius,” James says. “I don’t want you to get hurt by the old man.”

“I don’t really want to get hurt either,” Sirius replies. “And I’m not saying that I completely trust him. I just trust him enough to spend a couple of weeks with him this summer, and it might be nice not to be disowned by my entire family.”

“This is Sirius we’re talking about,” Remus comments, sounding amused. “His head is harder than yours, James.”

Sirius gives him a mild glare. “Oh, thank you so much.”

“It was a compliment,” Remus protests.

“Sure it was,” Sirius replies, but there’s a reluctant smile pulling on his mouth.

The next term should be interesting.

~~~~~

When the rest of the Slytherins come back on the train, Regulus has his mask firmly in place. He’s going to have to walk this line very carefully, so as not to paint a target on his grandfather or brother’s backs. Or on his own, but that might be a foregone conclusion.

He’s reading one of the books he received on blood magic when the other students in his house return, and he’s not surprised that Evan makes a beeline for him. “How did you make out?” 

Regulus holds up his book so he can see the title. “Quite well.”

“Nice,” Evan comments. “I see your grandfather is encouraging your passions. Did he announce a change in succession?”

“He said he was still evaluating us,” Regulus lies. “Right now, he’s declared his neutrality.”

Evan frowns. “I thought he was a blood purist.”

Regulus holds up his book. “As you can see, he is, but he’s unsure about Voldemort. He’s a typical gray wizard, and wants to maintain neutrality as long as possible.”

“Did he make you take an oath?” Evan asks.

Regulus shrugs. “For now. He said he’d release me from my oath if it looks like it’s politically expedient to do so.”

That’s an outright fabrication, but Regulus has no problem lying when it serves him. “Slughorn is showing an interest in both me and my brother,” he comments.

“You should definitely take him up on it,” Evan says. “I mean, you’ll make connections there that you wouldn’t even in Slytherin. Maybe your brother will start coming around.”

Regulus barely contains his snort, and schools his face into a serious expression. “Maybe,” he allows. “He seemed to like our grandfather.”

He doesn’t say that their grandfather is leagues better than their parents, because no one in their House needs to know that. 

“Well, I still think it’s too bad you couldn’t convince him to choose you to be his heir, but you have time yet,” Evan says. “And the fact that he’s giving you books on blood magic shows that he’s on our side.”

Regulus hadn’t actually said that, but assumptions can be helpful.

“Are you coming to dinner?” Evan asks.

Regulus shrugs. “Sure, this is my second time reading through them. My brother and I ignored each other while at my grandfather’s house.”

That isn’t exactly what happened. They’d spent a lot of time together, just reading quietly, but they weren’t ignoring each other. They can still claim to be enemies while at school, though.

Regulus is just glad that it’s a lie.

They all troop down to the Great Hall for dinner, probably jostling less than the Gryffindors, and they’re certainly less noisy, but spirits are high. Regulus allows himself to enjoy being around his classmates, even though he knows they’re likely to be enemies at some point.

If he can stay neutral through his seventh year, if he can survive, he can make his own way from there, forge his own path. 

Regulus sits where he can see the Gryffindor table, and he notices that Sirius does the same, braced by Potter and Lupin. Pettigrew sits across from them, and if he and Sirius catch the other’s gaze, neither of them let on to it.

“Your brother is an arrogant little toe rag,” Snape hisses in his ear. “I’m going to prove that Lupin is up to something.”

“They like to pull pranks,” Regulus says wearily. “And yes, they are all arrogant toe rags. I should know. One of them is my brother.”

“Did he say anything when you were there?” Snape demands.

“No, we didn’t talk about our friends,” Regulus replies shortly. No one in their house particularly cares for Snape, and Regulus is fairly certain that if Potter and his lot hadn’t targeted the other boy, he would have faced much more disdain from their own house than he had from Gryffindor.

“They’re hiding something,” Snape mutters.

“They probably are,” Regulus says, exasperated. “What does it matter?”

“It matters,” Snape snarls, and then doesn’t say anything else.

Honestly, Regulus just doesn’t understand the fascination with his brother and his friends. 

Regulus is pretty sure it has something to do with Snape’s fascination with Lily Evans, which goes against pureblood politics, but Snape is just a halfblood himself. He barely fits in with the rest of the House. His brilliance at potions is the only thing that sets him apart.

That night, after the feast, they repair to the Slytherin common room, and Regulus plays a game of Exploding Snap with his classmates. He thinks he’s sold it, that his time with his grandfather had been good, and he desires the House of Black to remain neutral until he makes up his mind as to which will be the winning side.

That resonates with the scions of the houses that have remained neutral, and Regulus can feel the politics of Slytherin shift slightly.

“Is your brother still the Heir?” one of the Greengrass brothers asks him.

“For now,” Regulus says airily. “I’m biding my time. And it’s not unheard of to subvert a lion. Slughorn wants him.”

“Oooh, that would be a great boon for you,” Natalia comments. “If you and your brother are both in Slughorn’s circle, you could do so much good, even if your grandfather remains neutral.”

Regulus doesn’t agree. He’s probably going to have to go into hiding at some point, because he can’t see how he could do anything else and survive. “Perhaps,” he says neutrally. Because neutral is what he has to be.

He wishes there were a place in Hogwarts where he could talk to Sirius without anyone knowing about it. Regulus wonders if such a place exists.

Maybe he could find one, or maybe he could make one, or maybe he could just beg Hogwarts for what he needs. Some of the other Slytherins have made mention of a room that isn’t always there, and isn’t always the same room every time you find it.

Regulus doesn’t locate the fabled room, but he does see Sirius at Slughorn’s next gathering. His brother is wearing his best bored expression, which Regulus has figured out is usually a cover for discomfort. He’d never expected to be invited into Slughorn’s inner circle, in spite of being a Black, and being one of the top students in his class.

He might be here just to lure his brother in, but he’s still here.

Sirius sidles up to him. “Is this your doing?” he hisses.

“Professor Slughorn said that he was interested in cultivating the Black heir,” Regulus whispers. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I figured you’d be here,” Sirius replies with a shrug. “I thought it would be easier to see you here than anywhere else.”

“There’s a rumor about a room that is sometimes there and sometimes not,” Regulus mutters. “Maybe that will work.”

“How are the snakes treating you?” Sirius asks.

“I’m spinning it to my advantage,” Regulus replies. “What about the lions?”

Sirius shrugs again. “They’re worried that I might be losing my mind, but what do they know anyway?”

“They didn’t realize you already had?” Regulus asks archly.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Don’t. Keep your ears and eyes open tonight, okay? I’ll do what I can to find this mythical room.”

He squeezes Regulus’ wrist, and then drifts away. There’s something about the contact, as innocuous as it is, that makes Regulus feel better. 

He knows that Sirius doesn’t want to be here, but Sirius is here anyway. Sirius is here because he’d known Regulus would be.

Regulus makes the rounds, getting a drink and a plate of nibbles, and chatting with the people who cross his path. To his surprise, he enjoys himself. Slughorn’s tendency to collect students with potential, or family connections, means that he doesn’t limit membership in the Slug Club to purebloods, or to any particular House. 

Slytherins tend to be fairly insular, so Regulus hasn’t had contact with many of his classmates from the other Houses, but he realizes that most of those present would be people his grandfather would encourage him to cultivate. 

He ends up spending most of his time with Agnes Ermine, who’s a year ahead of him and is a Chaser for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. The Ermines are known as a light family, but one that has generally remained neutral. Regulus discovers that Agnes has very firm opinions on Quidditch teams, and it’s a low stakes conversation where Regulus doesn’t need to be on his guard.

Regulus suddenly realizes that he can be himself at Slug Club. Assuming that no one gets too curious about the fact that he’s talking to people who aren’t in Slytherin, he can build other connections, which he’s going to need if he refuses to join the Death Eaters.

When the gathering starts to break up, Sirius sidles up to him and says in a whisper, “Follow me.”

They’re close to curfew, but Regulus does as Sirius asks, because there’s some part of him that still trusts his brother—or he’s come to trust his brother again.

Sirius leads him to a hallway on the seventh floor, where he paces back and forth and mutters, “I need a private place to talk to my brother.”

On the third pass, a door opens, and Sirius grins triumphantly. “There it is!”

When they enter the room, it’s basically a replica of their favorite library at Black Manor, complete with bookshelves, a roaring fireplace, and two overstuffed chairs. “How did you find it?” Regulus asks, impressed in spite of himself.

Sirius grins. “I asked some subtle questions at the Slug Club. I figured people there might know. I had to promise to take Eva Merryweather to the next Hogsmeade weekend, but it was worth it.”

Regulus looks around the room. “This is perfect.”

“The trick is to think really hard about what you want, and the room appears and suits itself to your requirements,” Sirius replies. “Here.”

He hands Regulus a coin. It looks like a regular galleon, but then Sirius says, “Put your thumb in the middle and think about me.”

Regulus does so, and Sirius pulls a galleon out of his own pocket, and it’s vibrating. “It’s one of a pair?”

“It is,” Sirius proclaims proudly. “So, if you need to talk to me, just activate the coin, and I’ll meet you here as soon as I can.”

It’s an impressive bit of magic, and Regulus is reminded that Sirius could have easily sorted into Ravenclaw, had he not been a lion at heart. “I’ll never understand why you didn’t go into Ravenclaw. Our parents would have accepted that.”

“Maybe that’s why I asked the hat for Gryffindor,” Sirius counters. “I wanted to break free of our parents. I’m just glad that our grandfather is more reasonable.”

Sirius would say that, given that he hadn’t extracted a promise out of him, not the way he had out of Regulus. Then again, given his grandfather’s revelations, Regulus is at least somewhat appreciative.

“We should get back,” Regulus says. “It’s close to curfew.”

“It is,” Sirius says, and then he reaches out and grabs Regulus’ shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Stay safe, Reg.”

Regulus gives into the urge and hugs his brother. He never gets this anymore, not in Slytherin, but Sirius squeezes him tightly. “I’m glad you were there tonight,” he mutters, somewhat embarrassed, letting go.

Sirius doesn’t let go, though, not right away. “I wouldn’t have been there except for you,” he says, and then releases him. “Call me if you need me.”

Regulus barely makes it back to the Slytherin’s dungeon common room before curfew, and he holds the charmed coin in his fist, shoved into his left-hand pocket, and he can’t help but feel comforted.

~~~~~

Arcturus is not about to take chances, and so he’s keeping in close contact with Rockhand to get frequent updates. He knows that he’ll have the boys for at least a couple of weeks during the summer holidays, but they’re out of his custody for more time than he’d like.

In spite of Regulus’ vow, he could still be pulled into Voldemort’s orbit, still end up as one of his followers, even if he does remain unmarked. Sirius could still be a reckless idiot and get himself killed, although Arcturus will do everything he can to ensure his grandson is safe.

He’s laid in a supply of goblin tea, and makes sure that Rockhand has what he would most like.

“What can you tell me?” Arcturus asks, grateful that the goblins don’t go for much small talk.

Rockhand takes a sip of his tea, drawing out the suspense, the wanker. “Your grandsons are forming a strong bond that will keep them both safe,” he finally says. “Our seers currently believe that they’ll both not only survive, but thrive. But when the time comes, James Potter and his wife will need to be protected.”

Arcturus nods. “I plan on inviting Sirius’ friends over at some point, and that will include James Potter. What else?”

“You know that Remus Lupin is a werewolf, do you not?” Rockhand asks.

Arcturus did not, but he asks, “What can you tell me about him?”

“Bitten by Greyback as a child, and Dumbledore accepted him into Hogwarts,” Rockhand replies. “Your grandson has been trying to protect him.”

Arcturus closes his eyes, throttling his first reaction, which is to ensure that Remus Lupin doesn’t come anywhere near his grandson and heir.  “Can you do anything for Mr. Lupin?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Rockhand replies. “Yes, we can provide a charm—for the right price.”

Arcturus frowns. “Why wouldn’t you provide such a charm for any werewolf?”

“How many do you think can afford our prices?” Rockhand asks. “We don’t do anything for free, Lord Black. Goblins can’t be infected with lycanthropy. Why should we exert ourselves for the benefit of wizards unless paid to do so? The only argument for equality you understand is gold.”

Arcturus regards Rockhand, and considers what’s been said. “You make a fair point. I would purchase a charm for my grandson’s friend, because it would make him happy, and keep him safer.”

“I will make the arrangements,” Rockhand replies. “As always, thank you for your hospitality, Lord Black.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” Arcturus replies. “May your vaults overflow with gold.”

Rockhand smiles, not showing his teeth. “And may your enemies fall before you.”

Chapter Text

Sirius doesn’t really expect much from his grandfather once he’s back at school. He figures Arcturus will do the same thing their parents do—ignore him unless he’s at home. But that’s far from what happens. Once a week, an owl delivers a letter to both him and Regulus from their grandfather. The missives are sometimes short, sometimes long, but his grandfather always asks open-ended questions that Sirius feels compelled to answer.

His grandfather asks about Remus, and whether he’d be amenable to assistance. He asks about James and his circumstances, and he tells Sirius that he can invite his friends to stay for a week during the summer.

“What’s put that look on your face?” James asks in an undertone.

“My grandfather has invited all of us to stay at Black Manor for a week this summer,” Sirius replies, still stunned.

James frowns. “What? All of us?”

“I think he knows about Remus, too,” Sirius whispers, handing James the letter.

James scans it quickly. “How would he know?”

“I told you that he’d been talking to seers,” Sirius says. “I’m guessing they figured it out. What do you think he means by help?”

James shrugs. “I don’t know, but…would the goblins have something?”

Sirius shrugs. “How would I know what the goblins have to help a werewolf?”

“What’s going on?” Remus asks, joining them at the breakfast table. Sirius knows that he’d awoken early to help a first year with their potions essay.

James glances at Sirius for permission, and when he nods, James hands the letter to Remus.

“Why would he want to help me?” Remus asks, obviously mystified.

Sirius shrugs. “I don’t know. But would you want to come?”

“If you want me there, and it’s not during a full moon, I’m happy to go,” Remus replies. “As long as my parents agree.”

Peter shows up, late to the party as usual, but probably because he overslept. “What’s going on?”

“My grandfather has invited all of us to visit Black Manor during the summer holidays,” Sirius replies.

Peter perks up immediately. “That was kind of him.”

Unlike Remus, Peter doesn’t ask why Arcturus Black might want to host him, and Sirius figures that it’s just Peter assuming that the world owes him something. But that’s Peter for you.

“I’ll write to him and suggest some dates,” Sirius finally says. “Something that works for all of us.”

James gives him a worried look. He’s started to come around to the idea that Sirius has family other than him. “Your grandfather seems like he’s really trying.”

Sirius frowns. “Yeah, I know.”

“Are you really going to ditch us this weekend?” James teases, changing the subject neatly.

Sirius doesn’t mind taking Eva Merryweather to Hogsmeade. She’s pretty and smart, and she’s the Keeper for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. “Hey, just because you can’t get Lily to go out with you doesn’t mean I can’t date.”

He hasn’t even told James about the Room of Requirement, and he’s debating on whether to include it on the map they’re working on. There’s something about his relationship with Regulus that feels very tentative, and very private.

Even from his closest friends.

He can’t say why he feels that way, but he does, and right now he’s going with his gut. He’s going to keep some things close to the vest.

Sirius feels the coin in his pocket vibrate, and he guesses that Regulus wants to know what Sirius is going to do with their grandfather’s proposal. He can only assume that Regulus received the same invitation.

They’ve worked out the timing, which means Sirius will make his way to the Room of Requirement after classes are over and before dinner. They have potions, transfiguration, and arithmancy that day. Well, Peter is taking Muggle studies, because he thought he could get an easy O on his OWLs, but the rest of them are in arithmancy.

Sirius knows they have to keep the map a secret, but he wishes they could use it as one of their projects. They’d get E’s in every class it touched if they could, but Sirius knows better than to reveal it.

He does catch Snivelus watching Remus in the class they share with the Slytherins, but so far he hasn’t tried to make another move. 

Sirius has a word with James after their last class. “I need to do something. I’ll be around for dinner.”

James frowns. “Does this have something to do with your grandfather?”

“Indirectly,” Sirius replies. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing dangerous.”

James snorts. “I would hope not. We get into dangerous situations together, remember?”

“Always,” Sirius replies.

He makes his way to the Room of Requirement circuitously, not wanting to risk being followed, and he finds Regulus waiting for him, as expected. There’s a roaring fire, and a tray with tea and biscuits, and Sirius throws himself into the second chair. “What’s going on?”

“Did you receive Grandfather’s invitation?” Regulus asks.

Sirius nods. “I did. Are you going to invite friends, too?”

“What friends?” Regulus asks bitterly. “Most of them are going to join the Death Eaters, and they’ll drop me when they realize that I won’t do the same.”

Sirius notices that he doesn’t say “can’t,” which is promising. “Or maybe invite the ones you think might be on the fence,” he suggests. “They’ll see Grandfather as the head of a house traditionally thought of as dark, and he isn’t joining Voldemort. Maybe more of them will decide to remain neutral. Cultivate your own following, brother.”

Regulus frowns, clearly mulling that over. “You may have a point. There are a couple of people I could probably approach.”

“There you go,” Sirius replies. “Show them the benefits of neutrality, and maybe build a coalition within Slytherin. Give people the option.”

“I can do that,” Regulus says. “That’s a good idea.”

“I’m not brainless, even if I did get sorted into Gryffindor,” Sirius jokes, not above poking fun at himself or his house.

Regulus rolls his eyes. “I thought that was a requirement for Gryffindors.”

“No, we just pretend to be idiots some of the time,” Sirius teases.

Regulus hesitates. “Is Severus bothering you?”

“He’s following Remus around, trying to get him into trouble,” Sirius replies. “Is there anything you can do?”

Regulus shrugs. “Probably not, since Potter’s interest in Lily Evans is evident.”

Sirius shrugs. “He’s a blood purist. Why would he be interested in a Muggle-born?”

“They were childhood friends,” Regulus replies. “And Lily Evans is one of the brightest witches here. I think you’ll find that a lot of blood purists are willing to put their principles aside to fuck someone they think is hot, Siri.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sirius replies, even if he thinks it’s fucked up. “Does Lily get a say in this?”

Regulus snorts. “Not if you’re Severus.”

“What a wanker,” Sirius mutters.

Regulus laughs. “On that, we agree. He is a wanker.”

It’s a good moment.

When he joins his friends at dinner, James elbows him. “Where were you, mate?”

“Having a private conversation with my brother about the invitation from our grandfather for this summer,” Sirius replies in an undertone. “Not a big deal.”

James frowns. “Where did you go?”

“A secret place,” Sirius replies. “I’ll show you sometime, but I won’t include it on the map. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He has plans for how to keep the map safe from others, but this is his and Regulus’ secret. What if it did fall into the wrong hands, and they figure out how to make it work for them? He knows just how dangerous it could be.

“What’s so special about this room?” James asks.

Sirius shrugs. “You’ll see.”

He knows that James won’t rest until he sees the room, but he’s glad when it’s just James who follows him out after dinner. Remus heads for the library, and Peter accompanies him.

“Are you sure you can trust him?” James asks insistently. “He’s a snake, Siri.”

“He’s my brother,” Sirius counters. “And we’ve found common ground. He’s agreed not to join the Death Eaters, but I won’t risk his life by meeting with him openly. James, we have an opportunity here. I won’t use my brother, but what if—“

“What if he could do us some good?” James asks. “I understand.”

Sirius paces outside the door three times, although he doesn’t think the same thing that he had when he’d been with his brother. This time, he thinks about needing a place to hide, and when the door appears and they enter the room to find it full of things that people had probably wanted to hide—books, various artifacts, pieces of broken furniture. 

“This is where you met your brother?” James asks incredulously.

Sirius shakes his head. “It didn’t look like this when Reg and I were here. But I wanted a private, comfortable place for us to meet. Here, I asked for a place to hide.”

“Well, it definitely looks like a place where people have done just that,” James replies, looking around. “What did it look like before?”

“Roaring fireplace and a couple of chairs,” Sirius admits. “Regulus can’t risk the rest of the snakes knowing, but I think he might be able to start another faction within his house.”

James nods. “That could only help us.”

“I didn’t suggest it to help us,” Sirius replies. “I suggested it because I want Regulus to survive.”

“I know you do.” James says. “I’m sure I’d feel the same way if I had siblings, and Regulus seems to be coming around.”.

“He’s my brother,” Sirius admits. “If I can save him, I will.”

“I thought you’d given up on him,” James admits. 

Sirius hesitates and then says, “Maybe I did. If so, it’s not something I’m proud of.”

James nods. “Fair enough. You know I have your back.”

“I do know that,” Sirius replies. And if things don’t work out, Sirius knows that he always will.

~~~~~

Regulus can’t just come right out and ask classmates to come with him to visit his grandfather in the summer. Coming right out and asking would be a Gryffindor move, and he knows he needs to be a little more subtle about it. The problem is that the two or three people in Slytherin who haven’t been vocal about their support of Voldemort have also kept to themselves, and they aren’t friends with him.

It would probably be suspicious if he just suddenly tried to make friends with the only people who haven’t been interested in joining the Death Eaters for the last couple of years.

So, he starts by distancing himself from his friends, pleading schoolwork and Quidditch practice, and a desire to work through the series on blood magic that his grandfather ostensibly gave him.

He remains cordial, of course, because he doesn’t want to burn bridges, but he asserts his independence. He spends more time alone in the library, and he spends time with his brother in the Room of Requirement. He pretends that he’s just absorbed in his studies, and that isn’t terribly out of character for him. Other than Quidditch, he’s known as being the type to get lost in learning.

He cultivates the persona of the absent-minded scholar easily over the course of the term, lost in his study of blood and ritual magic. If his parents learn about it, they won’t even mind. Eventually, as he hoped, people stop issuing invitations. Regulus still attends Slug Club and Quidditch practices, but he notices that a few of other students from Slytherin—both from the classes above him, and the ones below—start to gravitate towards him in the library.

Regulus knows how Slytherins operate, and they’re going to take their time feeling him out making sure that this isn’t some sort of a ploy or a trick.

The day that Violet Miller sits down at his table in the library, Regulus knows that his strategy is working.

“You haven’t been hanging with your usual crowd,” Violet observes quietly. “Some of us have been wondering why that is.”

He’s noticed Violet in the past; she’s hard not to notice, since she’s in his year, a Slytherin, a good student, and very pretty. With her thick, dark hair, dark eyes, and fair complexion, she would probably have her pick of suitors—except for the fact that her family isn’t particularly well off and is publicly neutral.

“I’ve been offered another path,” Regulus replies, just as quietly. “My grandfather has been generous.”

Violet perks up at that. “Lord Black has decided not to take sides?”

“He’s remaining neutral, and he’s asked me to do the same,” Regulus admits.

Violet raises her eyebrows. “And is there room at the table with you?”

Regulus smiles. “Of course, but that isn’t for public consumption.”

Violet smiles briefly. “Yes, well, I’m not exactly advertising my neutrality either.”

Regulus inclines his head. “What electives are you taking?”

Their whispered conversation covers their electives, and what they’re planning to do for their careers. Violet also tells him that there are others in Slytherin who are looking for a way forward that doesn’t involve becoming a Death Eater.

They make arrangements to study together the next evening, at the same table, and Regulus starts packing up his things. He allows Violet to go ahead, knowing that it will be better if they’re not seen to be too close, at least for the moment.

But that does mean that he’s walking back to the common room alone when he’s stopped by a couple of the Slytherin seventh years, some of the main recruiters for Voldemort. He knows Thorfinn Rowle best, and Regulus braces himself, because Rowle is brutal, and one of the main reasons that Regulus has tried to be careful.

“What sort of game are you playing, Black?” Rowle asks in a growly voice. “I thought you were one of us. Do we need to have a word with your grandfather?”

Regulus feels a stab of alarm. “I’m just considering my options,” he says, scrambling for a response. “And I find blood magic fascinating.”

“I think you’re getting cold feet,” Rowle says. “I think you’re scared, but you need to be concerned about what happens if you don’t join.”

Regulus tilts his chin up. “I’ll do what I want.”

He would have said the same to his brother or grandfather if they told him what to do, but then Rowle’s wand is in his hand and Regulus has his arm full of books, and he braces himself for something.

And then Rowle drops with the use of a stunner that comes from a point in the hall where someone has apparently disillusioned themselves. His friends get dropped from behind Regulus.

He’s rather surprised to see that Sirius is one of his rescuers. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

“You’re welcome,” Sirius replies. “And you get to pick your hex to claim we hit you with. We’ll leave the others here to violate curfew.”

Regulus has to admire his brother’s cunning in that moment, and he sighs. “Fine. Thank you. I’ll take Petrificus Totalus.”

“You won’t be able to get out of here,” Sirius points out. 

“Sure, but I’ll tell people that they weren’t trying to break curfew, and that we were all hit from behind,” Regulus replies. “That will ingratiate me, and I’ll claim I didn’t see anyone’s faces. Just make sure to cast a couple of spells to throw off the scent.”

“As you like,” Sirius replies, and hits him with the jinx. “Let me know if you need me, brother.”

And then Sirius and his friends leave them all there. Regulus isn’t entirely sure how he’s going to explain why he got a different curse than the others, or why he wasn’t stunned when everyone else was while not giving his brother up, and then he comes up with a very bright idea.

He manages to wriggle his right hand free of the bind enough so that he can reach his wand, and then cast a finite. 

At that point, he runs to Slughorn’s office and knocks loudly. “Professor,” he says, quickly dissembling. “Come quick. We were attacked.”

Slughorn is wearing pajamas and a hastily-tied robe, and he shoves his feet in slippers before following Regulus. Rowle and his cronies are just beginning to stir, and Slughorn casts a renervate on them all.

“You all are lucky Black woke up and alerted me,” he says. “You’d have violated curfew otherwise. Did you see who did this?”

They all had to admit that they hadn’t, and Regulus also said that he hadn’t seen anyone, and doesn’t say anything about Rowle and his cronies threatening him before.

Rowle and the others glare at him, but Regulus figures he’s bought some leeway with this silence.

“Who attacked us?” Rowle demands as soon as they reach the Slytherin common room. “I know you know.”

Regulus opens his mouth to retort, and then one of  the disaffected students, Elias Oldham, says, “The other three houses hate us as a body. We’re always getting attacked in the corridors. Be thankful this was your first time.”

And that is a point well taken, and Violet chimes in, “I’ve already been hexed three times this year, and do you see me whinging about it? You’re being babies. So, you got stunned. You don’t see Black moaning.”

He would have preferred she left him out of it, but he says with a shrug, “Sure. No need to whinge about what happens in the halls. We’ve hexed a few lions in our time, too.”

That shuts Rowle down entirely, and Regulus breathes a purely internal sigh of relief as they drift away.

“Are you okay?” Violet asks in an undertone. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Who?” Regulus, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“Rowle and his friends,” Violet replies. “I know what they’re like, and no offense, but I doubt you’d have been able to get the drop on all four of them, which means someone was helping you.”

Regulus glances around the common room and quickly shakes his head. “Not here. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

Violet gives him a knowing look. “You know, my sister was sorted into Ravenclaw.”

Regulus didn’t know that. “Older or younger?”

“Six years older,” Violet replies. “And she probably knows more jinxes and hexes than anybody. Rowle tried coming after me exactly once.”

Regulus relaxes slightly. “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

“Just don’t go anywhere alone,” Violet advises him. “Rowle tends to hold a grudge.”

Regulus knows how true that is, and he resolves to be careful in the future. He can’t always rely on his brother to save him.

~~~~~

Sirius has been avoiding Regulus, knowing that if they’re seen together, it wouldn’t be good for him and his standing with the other Slytherins. But it just so happens that he’s in the library, studying with Remus, James, and Peter, when he sees Regulus packing up. That wouldn’t have been enough to alert him to a problem, but then he sees Thorfinn Rowle and three of his friends follow him out of the library.

“Heads up,” Sirius murmurs. “I think my brother is about to get himself into trouble.”

James follows his gaze, and his eyes sharpen. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I’m not letting my brother get ambushed, even if they are members of his own House,” Sirius replies. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“I have my cloak,” James replies. “I’ll go first, and you three follow behind me.”

Remus has already started to pack up, and Peter follows his lead, but more slowly, clearly reluctant. “Why are we sticking our necks out for a Slytherin?” Peter mutters.

“He’s not just a Slytherin, he’s my brother,” Sirius says firmly. “You don’t have to come with us, Peter.”

Peter sighs. “I’m right behind you.”

Sirius and Remus both cast disillusionment spells on themselves, but Peter hasn’t quite managed the charm yet, and neither of them have ever successfully managed to cast it on someone else.

So, James takes the lead, and Sirius and Remus follow closely, with Peter reluctantly bringing up the rear. 

James is the first to cast a stunner when they spot Rowle and his friends surrounding Regulus, whose arms are full of books. Rowle is obviously about to hex or jinx Regulus, and Sirius can see his brother close his eyes, bracing himself.

Sirius pulls his own wand and sends a stunner at one of Rowle’s friends, and Remus does the same, with James sending a second stunner at the last one standing. Peter never even pulls his wand.

Sirius dispels the disillusionment charm, knowing that James isn’t going to want to reveal that he’s wearing a cloak. He thinks his presence will distract Regulus, who hisses at him like an angry cat.

He casts the spell Regulus asks of him, and then he hides nearby, watching as Regulus manages to wriggle his way free, and runs for his Head of House. Sirius is a little irritated that the Slytherins aren’t going to get detention for breaking curfew.

But then he heads back to the Gryffindor common room, because he doesn’t want to get detention himself.

James grins at him when he enters. “Well, that was fun. Are we going to start rescuing your brother now?”

“Only when the opportunity presents itself,” Sirius replies. “I didn’t want Rowle to hurt him.”

“He wasn’t very grateful,” Peter points out.

Sirius shrugs. “That wasn’t the point. Just—keep an eye out for him. He seems to be coming around, and Rowle targeted him because he’s not hanging out with the Death Eaters these days.”

“Of course,” James agrees easily.

Sirius gets a letter from his grandfather a couple of weeks later, and he starts to read it.

Dear Sirius,

Your brother tells me that he’s making some headway with his housemates, and it seems that your actions have played a role in it. I’m proud of you for putting aside House rivalries and standing by your brother in a way that also protects him. I look forward to hosting you and your friends soon. Work hard for the rest of the year, and I know you’ll do well on your OWLs.

Always,

Your Grandfather

Sirius stares at the words on the paper, hardly able to make sense of them. He doesn’t think either of his parents have ever expressed pride in him or his accomplishments, nor have they offered any sort of encouragement.

“You okay?” James asks. “Did your grandfather say something to you?”

“He said he was proud of me,” Sirius mutters. “I don’t even know what to do with that.”

Remus overhears him, and he smiles gently. “Is that so bad?”

“It’s weird,” Sirius admits. “Also, I think Reg must have told him about our intervention with those bullies. I certainly didn’t, but he seems to know all about it.”

“Maybe,” Remus says slowly. “But don’t you have at least one relative with a portrait here?”

Sirius blinks. “Oh, yeah. Phineas Black was a headmaster here, although I’m not sure when.”

“Or maybe your brother told your grandfather what you did,” James says, apparently knowing what Sirius wants to hear. The idea that Regulus would have told their grandfather something good about him is almost foreign.

But maybe it means their relationship has truly turned a corner.

“Are we going to work on the map again tonight?” Remus asks quietly, changing the subject.

Sirius nods. “Absolutely. I think I’m learning more from this project than I have from our classes. I figure it’s good for our OWLs, too.”

They’ve made good headway, and Sirius thinks it will be completed by the end of the year, probably around the same time that Peter manages the transformation. He and James have already found their forms, and can go back and forth with ease, but it’s taking Peter a little longer.

Sirius thinks that might be because Peter knows his form is a rat, and he’s disappointed that his form isn’t more regal. Then again, as he and James have reminded him more than once, a rat is dead useful, since it’s small and unobtrusive, and easily overlooked. They’ve already come up with pseudonyms for the map: Padfoot, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail. Peter doesn’t like his nickname, but Sirius thinks it’s fitting.

That evening, they work in the library until it’s nearly curfew, and then they head back to the common room. There’s no excitement on their way back to the common room, and they sprawl out on the couches to talk idly until they’re ready to go to bed.

The time heading up to their OWLs is rushing by. Gryffindor has a game against Hufflepuff that weekend, which they win, but that’s the last game of the year. Peter manages the transformation the following weekend, and they spend the next full moon with Remus in the Shrieking Shack.

The map is completed the weekend after that, and all the while they’re cramming for their OWLs. Once the map is complete, Sirius hangs onto it, checking obsessively to see where Regulus is, and whether he’s alone. He notices that Regulus is surrounded by other people more and more—Violet Miller, Elias Oldham, and a few others from Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. 

No one from Gryffindor, of course, but Sirius is relieved that Regulus isn’t by himself, and that he’s unlikely to be caught alone in the halls again.

And it looks like Regulus will have some friends to invite to their grandfather’s house that summer.

“Are you going to come to my grandfather’s house?” Sirius asks his friends the week before they’re due to take their OWLs. His grandfather hadn’t said why, but he’s extended the invitation from one week to two.

“I am,” James agrees easily. “Someone has to watch your back.”

Remus hesitates. “What about the full moon? It’s a week after we’re due to arrive.”

“He moved the dates around when I asked him, so we can avoid the full moon,” Sirius replies. “It will be fine.”

Remus breathes a sigh of relief. “Then yes, I’m going. My parents just wanted to be sure I’d be home for that.”

Sirius can understand why Remus and his parents would be hesitant. If something happens, and Remus hurts or kills someone, it would be bad.

“Of course I’m going,” Peter says. “Knowing the current Lord Black can only help.”

Sirius is a little uncomfortable with that, but it’s Peter. “Well, sounds like a real party then.”

“And then you’re coming to mine,” James asserts. “My parents are looking forward to having you there.”

Sirius can’t quite believe that he’s not running away to James’ parents immediately, but his grandfather is starting to win him over, and he’s beginning to trust that his grandfather actually has his best interests at heart.

~~~~~

Arcturus has started getting creative about spying on his grandsons. Phineas Black still has a portrait in Hogwarts, and he’s skilled at moving from frame to frame and getting around the castle. Phineas is the one who originally alerts Arcturus about the attempted ambush in the hallway, and Sirius and his friends’ roles in interrupting it. 

But he’s also heartened the following day when he receives a letter from Regulus, off-handedly mentioning the incident and expressing surprise that his brother would act as his protector, but also, that his friends would get involved.

To Arcturus, it bodes well for them to be able to rebuild their relationship, and perhaps strengthen their bond.

He hasn’t been idle over the last couple of months. He has a dueling instructor booked for Sirius and his friends, and anyone in Regulus’ crowd who might want to participate. He has a couple of other treats lined up, too—both of his grandsons play Quidditch, so he sets up a temporary pitch.

Arcturus is bribing them, and he knows that, and he expects that they’ll know that, too. He doesn’t care, though. He thinks they’ll come around, and will understand that he’s doing it because he cares. It’s not just the grand gestures; it’s the weekly letters, and the packages of sweets and other goodies he has his house elves deliver right before Regulus’ finals and Sirius’ OWLs. 

Granted, he cheated a bit and had his house elves spy on them, and ask the Hogwarts elves what they’d like best, but he gets letters in thanks from both boys.

Really, he has no idea what his son and his wife are thinking. Sirius might have been sorted into Gryffindor, but he’s still a good boy with a strong desire to protect his family. Regulus is smart and talented, with a certain native cunning.

The two of them together could take on the entire wizarding world, and change things for the better.

What that might look like, Arcturus doesn’t know, but he thinks the two of them will balance each other out nicely.

He receives a letter from Regulus right before finals are due to begin, giving him a list of names of students who have agreed to spend two weeks with him. It’s a mixed crowd, with someone from every house other than Gryffindor, and Arcturus is pleased to see Regulus’ inner politician is functioning at a high level. 

Arcturus is quite looking forward to having the children in the Manor. He dispatches the house elves to ensure that the rooms are aired out and will be comfortable for everyone. Most of those visiting are from older families, and will be used to a little more formality at dinner. 

The day before the children are due to arrive, Arcturus arranges a meeting with Rockhand to collect the charm for Remus Lupin, as well as to get the rest of the information that he requested.

As always, he ensures that there is food and drink that Rockhand prefers, and they sit in front of a roaring fire in his study. Arcturus pours the tea, and Rockhand sighs over it. “You are far more hospitable than most wizards, Lord Black.”

Arcturus snorts. “Most wizards don’t understand their own self-interest, and what’s good for them.”

Rockhand nods. “Too true. Before you ask, the seers do not believe that young Mr. Lupin would be a danger to your grandson, even without the charm, but having it will improve his quality of life quite a bit.”

“And making a difference to Mr. Lupin will make a difference to my grandson,” Arcturus replies. “Which is reason enough for me to do what I can for him.”

“Most admirable,” Rockhand comments.

Arcturus shakes his head. “Hardly that. I don’t particularly want my grandson to be friends with a werewolf, but I know Sirius, and he’s loyal as the day is long. This is the best way to protect him.”

Arcturus is no fool, and he believes he has Sirius’ measure. An order from him to abandon his friend will only send Sirius running. Doing some small favor for Lupin—and it is a small favor—will have the opposite effect.

And he’s ensured that Lupin will not be at the Manor during the full moon by having them here immediately after the school year ends, in deference for keeping his secret, as well as the safety of the other children. 

“We would do many things for our children,” Rockhand states knowingly. “Even accepting that they will make choices we do not always approve of.”

Arcturus has to admit that that he might have had more influence had he acted sooner to intervene in Sirius’ life, but he’s forfeited some of that, and that’s his own fault, and his own choice.

“I suppose that’s true,” he admits. “Sirius is fifteen, soon to be sixteen, and while I’d like to wrap him cotton wool, it’s simply not possible.”

Rockhand shakes his head. “No, of course not. There is a war on, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“No, in a war there is only survival,” Arcturus replies.

He exchanges the charm for a pouch full of galleons, holding it up to the light. “He wears this around his wrist?”

“Or around his neck,” Rockhand says. “The cord will resize to his preference.”

Arcturus nods, satisfied with the purchase. “Excellent craftsmanship as always, Rockhand. I hope you’ll pass along my compliments to the artisan.”

“Certainly, Lord Black,” Rockhand replies.

He takes his leave soon after, and Arcturus moves through the Manor, checking to be sure that everything is ready for his guests. He knows that he probably won’t be able to do much hosting in a few years, but if he can at least get the boys through Hogwarts, that might be enough.

He sends two cars to collect the children, one for Sirius and his friends, and the other for Regulus and his.  He’s hoping that after two weeks, they’ll have learned to get along with one another, but he’s not going to hold his breath.

When the cars pull up, Arcturus is there waiting for them, leaning on a cane. It’s an ostentatious one that he can pretend is an affectation and isn’t becoming an actual necessity. 

The car with Sirius and his friends is the first to pull up as befits his status as the heir. Arcturus is pleased to see that all four boys are smartly dressed in trousers and button-down shirts. Apparently, Sirius had warned his friends that his grandfather expected a certain formality.

“Welcome,” Arcturus intones. “I hope you all will enjoy your stay here.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Black,” James Potter says, bright, handsome and charming. He shakes Arcturus’ hand with a firm grip.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Arcturus replies, and then looks at the scarred boy. “You must be, Mister Lupin.”

His diffident manner doesn’t prevent him from meeting Arcturus’ handshake with a strong one of his own. “Thank you for having me, Lord Black.”

“Of course, any friend of Sirius is welcome here,” Arcturus says. “And Mr. Pettigrew, welcome.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Black,” Peter stutters.

“Cordy will show you to your rooms,” Arcturus says just as the next car pulls up in front of the Manor.

He extends the same courtesy to Regulus and his friends, Violet Miller, Elias Oldham, Myra Endicott, and Byron Bertrand. The latter two are from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, respectively, and seem a bit awed at the Manor. He’s done his own research, and he knows they come from mostly pureblood families who don’t have many resources. 

Arcturus understands the value of developing relationships with members of cadet houses who don’t have much, but will have considerable loyalty if treated well.

He’s glad to see that Regulus is cultivating those relationships, as it will only help the House of Black in the long run.

And then Arcturus takes in a long, deep breath once he’s sent them off with another one of the house elves. It’s going to be interesting.

Chapter Text

Sirius wakes up in one of the most comfortable beds he’s been in, feeling strangely safe. He’s beginning to feel that his grandfather can be trusted. He doesn’t want to rely on that feeling, but Arcturus had been kind and welcoming to all of his friends, including Remus, and that means a lot to him.

Sirius has been informed that his grandfather wants to meet with him and Remus that morning, and so he pulls on some of his nicer clothing. Breakfast is served buffet style in one of the smaller dining rooms, and the array of food would probably be dizzying if they weren’t all used to the amount and variety served at Hogwarts. Two of Regulus’ friends still seem incredibly impressed, though, probably because they’re not used to seeing this much food at home.

James sidles up next to him as he’s filling his plate. “What do you think your grandfather wants with you and Moony?”

Their Marauder names are filtering more and more into their regular conversation. “If I had to guess, it probably has something to do with his little furry problem.”

James grimaces. “But what if—“

“He wouldn’t have invited Remus if he meant him harm,” Sirius points out. “And he made sure we wouldn’t be here during a full moon.”

James nods. “Okay, I trust you, even if I don’t necessarily trust him.”

They take the other end of the table from Regulus and his friends, although Sirius does exchange a courteous nod with his brother. 

Remus is the next to join him, and Sirius can tell that he’s nervous based on the very small portion of porridge and fruit that he grabs for breakfast. Normally, Remus eats a little more than that.

“Don’t worry so much,” Sirius whispers. “It turns out that my grandfather’s bark is a lot worse than his bite.”

Remus frowns at him. “Dog jokes, really?”

“If anyone is allowed to make a dog joke, it’s me,” Sirius replies with a grin. “I could provide a demonstration right now if you’d like.”

“We’re keeping that quiet,” James reminds him. “What’s the point of having a secret super power if it’s not a secret?”

“Ah, Prongs,” Sirius teases. “You’re just mad that your form isn’t as useful as ours.” He winks at Peter, who has just joined them. Peter grins, having come around to both his form and his nickname.

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” James replies with an eye roll.

The banter does what Sirius had been hoping it would do, because Remus has relaxed enough to eat.

When his grandfather enters, they all start to stand, but Arcturus waves a hand. “Don’t worry about formalities at breakfast,” he says. “Sit, enjoy. Sirius, when you and Mr. Lupin are done, please join me in my study.”

“Yes, grandfather,” Sirius says readily. There’s a twinkle in Arcturus’ eye, a pleased smile playing around the corners of his mouth that suggests he has nothing bad in mind for them.

Remus speeds up his eating, probably wanting to get the meeting out of the way. Arcturus had said the night before that he has a dueling instructor coming later that morning for anyone who wants to participate, and that there are practice Quidditch hoops set up on the grounds for anyone who wants to go flying.

It feels like his grandfather is really making an effort to ensure they have a good time, and will want to return.

Remus finishes his porridge, and pushes his bowl aside. It disappears a few seconds later, his grandfather’s house elves as efficient as always. Sirius quickly finishes off his eggs and toast, and says, “Shall we?”

Remus shrugs. “I suppose it would be rude to keep him waiting.”

Sirius claps him on the shoulder. “Chin up, Moony. I’m sure it’s nothing bad.”

Remus grimaces and self-consciously touches one of his scars. “‘Nothing bad’ doesn’t necessarily mean it’s anything good, Padfoot. He might be trying to buy me off so I’ll stop hanging around you lot.”

“If that’s what he was going to do, he’d have got you alone, without me,” Sirius points out.

Remus always seems to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, and this situation is no different. There are times when Sirius wonders just how frightening it must have been for Remus, to be safe and loved and secure one moment, and then subject to a terrible infirmity the next, through no fault of his own.

Sirius raps briefly on the door jamb as they reach his grandfather’s study, and his grandfather calls, “Come in, boys, and close the door behind you.”

They do as they are bidden, and Remus takes the seat across from his grandfather’s desk when Arcturus says, “Please, have a seat, and don’t look so apprehensive, Mr. Lupin. I’d like to help you.”

Remus swallows audibly. “Yes, Lord Black.”

“Has my grandson told you about my own illness?” Arcturus asks.

Remus glances at Sirius, clearly at a loss, and Sirius is the one to reply, “The only people I told were James and Remus. I knew they wouldn’t tell anyone our private family business.”

Arcturus nods. “I’m happy to know that you understand that, my boy, and I think Mr. Lupin has demonstrated that he’s able to keep a secret.”

Remus nods slowly. “Yes, of course, Lord Black. I’ll hold your secret as tightly as my own.”

“Good,” Arcturus says. “The healers aren’t sure how much time I have left. It could be months, years, or even decades, but there will come a time, sooner than I’d like, where I’ll have to retire from public life. I thought it imperative that I ensure the Black line would continue. Do you understand?”

Remus frowns. “I think so, but I’m not sure what that has to do with me.”

“I have this illness, not because I’ve overindulged, or because I have done something to deserve it, but because fate is sometimes unkind,” Arcturus says. “You are my grandson’s friend, and I know how loyal Sirius is. I’d like to help you manage your own affliction for his sake.”

Remus’ expression is incredulous. “No offense, sir, but my parents have seen healers and specialists, and they’ve all said there’s nothing to be done but to suffer through it.”

“Have they gone to the goblins?” Arcturus asks, his tone gentle.

Now Sirius can see a certain fearsome hope dawning on Remus’ face. “Everyone knows how much goblin-made charms cost,” he says slowly. “My parents wouldn’t have had the means to even speak to a goblin artisan on my behalf.”

“Then perhaps your luck has changed,” Arcturus says, “by making friends with my grandson.” He pushes a small box across the desk. “Go ahead.”

Sirius watches as Remus takes the box with shaking hands, opening it with Sirius looking over his shoulder. It’s a beautiful piece, with no outward indicator of what it’s for, just an unfamiliar runic symbol in a circle, worked in some kind of shiny silver metal, hanging from a black leather cord.

“I’ve been informed it can be worn as a bracelet or a necklace,” Arcturus says. “The cord will resize itself according to your needs.”

Remus takes the charm and tugs it over his head, and sure enough, the cord stretches, resizing until the medallion is at the hollow of his throat.

“You’ll feel a bit unwell during the full moon, but as long as you’re wearing that, you won’t transform,” Arcturus says. “You’ll be safe.”

Sirius hears the unspoken words—and Sirius will also be safe.

Remus swallows audibly. “I can’t thank you enough, Lord Black.”

“Watch out for my grandson,” Arcturus replies. “That will be thanks enough.”

When they leave the study, James and Peter are waiting for them, and James asks, “Well?”

“Let’s go somewhere quiet,” Sirius says, putting a hand on Remus’ shoulder, since he seems at a loss.

“What happened?” James demands once they reach Sirius’ favorite library. “What did he say to you?”

Remus shakes his head. “No sense getting angry, Prongs. Lord Black provided me with an amulet from the goblins that will prevent the transformation.”

James sprawls out on one of the leather-bound couches in the library. “What did he want in return?”

“He wanted to protect Sirius,” Remus replies dryly. “If I’m safe to be around, then he doesn’t have to worry about me infecting his grandson.”

Sirius shifts uncomfortably, although he thinks Remus probably has the right of it. “He did it for me,” he agrees, “but—“

“I’m not ungrateful,” Remus quickly says. “This is, by far, the nicest thing that someone has ever done for me, and the only thing he’s asked from me is something I was already inclined to do.”

There’s a bitter note in his voice that Sirius doesn’t quite understand. “Then why are you so upset?” he asks.

“Why would your grandfather do something so kind?” Remus asks, his expression troubled. “When Dumbledore didn’t even mention the possibility? My parents wouldn’t have had the resources, but Dumbledore could have at least mentioned it.”

Sirius frowns. “Maybe Dumbledore didn’t know.”

“Maybe,” Remus says, but he doesn’t sound convinced by that.

Peter’s expression is hopeful. “Do you think your grandfather would help me?”

“I’m sure he will, when the time comes,” Sirius replies.

“Are we going to take dueling lessons today?” James asks, apparently deciding to change the subject to something a little more lighthearted. 

“I think we’d better,” Sirius replies. “We’ll be in the war soon.”

Remus nods resolutely. “We’d better go then.”

Sirius isn’t sure how much of what his grandfather has done is a selfish desire to protect him, and how much might be at least a bit altruistic. But either way, Sirius is grateful, and he’s going to learn everything he can from the dueling instructor.

~~~~~

“Are we really going to take dueling lessons?” Byron asks. “Why should we? We have no interest in the war.”

Elias snorts. “That doesn’t mean the war won’t find you, you know. All it will take is for one Death Eater to decide that you’re easy prey. Best to make sure you can defend yourself.”

“We’ll have to deal with your brother and his friends,” Violet complains, looking at Regulus. “Lupin seems decent enough, but Potter is an arrogant arsehole.”

“And Pettigrew is a bootlicker,” Myra agrees. “But you did say that they protected you from Rowle, Reg.”

“They did,” Regulus replies. “And I’m not saying that my brother can’t be an arsehole, but we all can be at times, and he’s the heir to the House of Black.”

To Regulus, that’s about the end of it. His grandfather has made his choice, and Regulus believes, down to his bones, that he has an obligation to his family to support his brother as best he can.

Regulus has been schooled on what it means to be a Black since before he can remember. It’s just that his grandfather has slightly altered the equation.

He’s chosen his friends wisely, and all of them understand what having family means. Family comes first, and duty to family is greater than any other proclaimed loyalty. It’s one of the reasons that blood purists look at Dumbledore so dubiously. 

“What do you think your grandfather wanted to talk to your brother and Lupin about?” Elias asks.

Regulus shrugs. “It’s none of my business. I’ll know when Grandfather or Sirius wants me to know.”

He’s curious, but his grandfather had made a point of keeping it private, and Regulus is content to wait to find out what’s going on.

There’s actually a dueling room in Black Manor, although it can double as a ballroom when the Blacks are entertaining. As far as Regulus knows, the Blacks haven’t really done much entertaining since before his grandmother died, other than the annual Christmas Eve gathering his grandfather holds.

Arcturus enters the room with his cane, and Regulus notices that he’s leaning on it a little harder than he would have if it were just decorative. He feels a stab of worry at that, because he’s only just getting used to the idea of having his grandfather in his life.

The man following his grandfather is a stranger with a thin mustache and a thin build, wearing battle robes.

“This is Monsieur Betancourt,” Arcturus says. “His job is to teach you how to duel. He is not here to make friends or to coddle you. If you do not wish to take part in these lessons, that is up to you, but he is the master in this room.”

“We understand, Grandfather,” Sirius says, sounding uncharacteristically grim, but maybe it makes sense. Sirius and his friends are preparing for war, while Regulus and his friends plan on remaining neutral.

Betancourt smiles. “Your grandfather says you fancy yourself a warrior.”

“I don’t fancy myself anything,” Sirius replies. “I know what I will need to be, though.”

“Then come up here, Monsieur Black, and we’ll see what you’re made of,” Betancourt says.

The only time that Regulus has seen his brother in action is when he and his friends were taking out Rowle in the hallway.

Regulus leans forward, his heart in his throat, watching as Sirius stands in front of the instructor.

“We will obey the rules of the formal duel for the next week,” Betancourt says. “During the second week, I will teach you how to win a fight even if the other person plays dirty. Both skills are useful. Draw your wand, Monsieur Black, and let’s see how you do in a formal duel.”

Sirius does as he’s bid, taking up a dueler’s stance. As becomes evident immediately, Sirius has a lot of raw, untrained talent, because he manages to hold his own against Betancourt for a whole three minutes before Betancourt disarms him.

“Good,” Betancourt says approvingly. “Very good. Very good, indeed. You have the makings of a first-rate dueler. Next up, the other Black boy. Regulus, yes?”

Regulus doesn’t love the idea, but he knows that he’s likely to be a target in the hallways, and he should probably learn how to duel. Regulus takes up the stance, and prepares to fight. “Widen your stance, Monsieur Regulus,” Betancourt instructs. “You’ll have a more solid foundation.”

He does as instructed, resets, and prepares to defend himself. Betancourt starts out a little more slowly with him, telegraphing his movements in order to give Regulus an opportunity to defend against the hexes he sends Regulus’ way. When it becomes obvious that Betancourt isn’t trying to embarrass Regulus, he relaxes a bit and starts to have fun with it.

Betancourt puts all of them through their paces before pairing them up to duel each other.

To his surprise, Regulus ends up having a good time, even when Betancourt changes up the pairings again, pitting him against Remus.

Remus is careful with him, using more mild jinxes and hexes, and not trying too hard to get past his defenses. Regulus sees the glint of metal at the hollow of his throat, something that wasn’t there first thing this morning.

It must be what their grandfather had wanted to speak to him and Sirius about, and Regulus wonders if it has anything to do with why Snape has been sneaking around, following his brother and his friends.

“You all show a lot of promise,” Betancourt says as they wrap up the lesson. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The lesson has also had the effect of breaking some of the ice between Regulus and his friends and Sirius’ group. Sirius clears his throat and asks, “Who wants to play Quidditch after lunch?”

Regulus glances around at his friends. Myra and Elias both play Quidditch, he knows, but not for the House team. Byron and Violet might play, but Remus’ grimace suggests that he’s definitely uninterested.

Byron shakes his head. “I’ll pass.”

“Same,” Violet agrees. “I want to check out your grandfather’s library, since he said we could have free rein.”

Remus’ expression lights up. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the library, too.”

“Great!” Sirius says. “That’s three-on-three. That works.”

Regulus hadn’t known what to expect from two weeks spent with his grandfather, his brother, and their friends, but he’s feeling more hopeful than he had a few days ago. 

~~~~~

“So, does this mean we put all that work in for nothing?” Peter asks plaintively. “The map, the transfiguration, all of it?”

“Excuse you,” Sirius replies, sprawling back on the rug in his room, and it really is starting to feel like his, in a way his bedroom at his parents’ place doesn’t. He transforms into his dog form, and grins a doggy grin before changing back. “We’re secret animagi! We have a secret weapon! Not to mention how great that map is going to be for playing pranks.”

“Not to mention the leg up that map gave us in Charms, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy,” Remus points out. “I think the only class it didn’t help with was Potions.”

Peter is pouting. “But still. Your grandfather buys a charm from the goblins, and problem solved.”

Remus stares at Peter incredulously. “You’re angry that I don’t have to transform every month, and I’m not a danger to others?”

James reaches out and smacks the back of Peter’s head. “Come on, Wormtail. Don’t be such a wanker.”

Peter pouts at that. “I’m sorry. It’s just that we worked really hard on this stuff.”

“Yeah, we did,” Sirius replies. “And it will pay off in spades in time.”

Peter gives Remus an apologetic look and says, “Sorry, Moony. That was shitty of of me.”

“It’s okay,” Remus says quickly.

James is wearing a thoughtful expression. “Can I ask a question that might be a little insensitive?”

“Why did my grandfather make this big gesture without asking repayment in kind?” Sirius asks, already knowing what James wants to know. James is the sort who wants to protect his friends, and that includes protecting them from their family if necessary. “It’s not hard to figure out, Prongs. My grandfather wants to protect me, and to do that, he’ll protect my friends.”

James nods. “Fair. I just wish we could have done that for you, Moony.”

“You’ve all done a lot for me,” Remus replies. “But I’ll always be grateful to Lord Black for this.” He touches the medallion at his throat. “If it means not transforming every full moon…”

Sirius sees the relief on Remus’ face, and he knows that none of them will be able to fully understand what Remus goes through every month. He wonders if his grandfather understands the gift that he’s given Remus.

He wonders if his grandfather understands the kind of loyalty he’s engendered, and thinks he probably does.

“Your grandfather is a lot nicer than I thought he’d be,” James admits. “I knew he’d be formal, but he actually seems to have put some thought into what we’re going to do for two weeks, and what we might actually need.”

Sirius nods, still feeling wonder at what he’s found.

“Your brother is actually pretty decent when he’s not hanging around with Death Eaters,” Remus says, stretching out on the floor with his hands behind his head. “And his friends seem nice.”

“Did you have a good time in the library with the other berks?” James teases.

Remus casually flips him off. “Fighting You-Know-Who is going to take more than dueling lessons and Quidditch, you know.”

“We’ll join you in the library tomorrow,” Sirius promises. “Because you’re not wrong.”

Remus smiles at him. “Thanks, Pads.”

The next two weeks spool out like a dream, in a lot of ways. They have dueling lessons every morning, which Sirius loves. He can see his brother gaining in confidence, too, and Monsieur Betancourt keeps switching up the pairings so they all get a feeling for the others’ strengths and weaknesses.

Elias is an aggressive dueler who doesn’t give an inch. Violet is sneaky, feinting so convincingly that she can sneak a spell under a shield. Myra is cautious, but packs a punch behind her spells. Byron is a little harder to figure out, playing it safe and close to the vest, but then he’ll throw out a jinx or a hex no one else has ever heard of before.

During the afternoons, they play Quidditch, or study in the library, but then after the first week, they start playing Wizard Chess and Exploding Snap and Gobstones. Sirius isn’t even sure who first started suggesting games, but someone says, “What about a game of Exploding Snap?”

So, they have a formal dinner with Arcturus, and then they all change into something more comfortable and sprawl out in their chosen study and read or play games.

And, almost in spite of everything, they start to become friendly, if not friends.

The last night they’re at the Manor, the dinner is something really special. There’s a gorgeous ham and all the fixings, and everyone gets a small glass of wine.

Sirius is surprised when his grandfather stands and raises a glass, prompting all of them to follow suit.

“I appreciate all of you taking two weeks out of your holiday to spend your time with my grandsons and an old man,” Arcturus says. “I’ve appreciated having some life in the Manor again, and you all have been excellent guests and are a credit to your parents. You are all welcome to come back at any time.”

They all raise their glasses, and Remus is the one to say, “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Black. We cannot thank you enough.”

Byron is actually the one to echo, “Hear, hear. It’s been an amazing two weeks, my lord.”

Sirius thinks his grandfather might actually be choked up a bit at that. “Thank you, lads.”

That night, his grandfather actually joins them in the study, and he and Remus play Wizard Chess.

For the first time in years, Sirius isn’t looking forward to going to James’ house. He’s enjoyed the last two weeks far more than he expected. He watches as his grandfather trounces Remus, and sees the pleased smile on his grandfather’s face, and hears Remus say, “I want a rematch.”

“Come on, pay attention, Pads,” James scolds. “Are you playing or not?”

And Sirius turns his focus back on the game of Exploding Snap with a smile on his face.

~~~~~

Regulus knocks on the door to his grandfather’s study, the morning before they’re due to leave.  He doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants, but he knows that he has to try at least.

“Come in, lad,” his grandfather says with a welcoming smile. “What can I do for you?”

His parents never looked at him like that. Regulus had known that they didn’t approve of his brother, and in comparison, they’d always treated him well. But that was only in comparison.

“I want to stay here this summer,” Regulus says bluntly. “I know that Sirius is going to James’ place, but—I don’t want to go home.”

“You’ll always be able to stay here, my boy,” his grandfather says warmly. “Is there a reason?”

Regulus swallows hard and shakes his head, because it’s mostly because he doesn’t have a friend’s place he’d rather go. “Not really. I just—really like it here.”

“You can stay here as long as you want, as often as you want,” Arcturus says. “And that goes for your brother as well. You boys are always welcome here. Your friends are always welcome, too.”

Regulus blinks rapidly. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Reg. I’m glad to have you here,” Arcturus says. 

And that—Sirius is the heir, and Regulus knows that, but having his grandfather say that is exactly what he needed to hear.

“Have you had fun?” his grandfather asks.

Regulus nods. “Yes, it’s been brilliant.”

“Good,” Arcturus says. “That’s what I wanted.”

The morning that the others are due to leave, his brother comes to find him in his room, looking awkward and stiff. “Grandfather said that you’re staying.”

Regulus shrugs. “I decided that I’d rather be here than at home. It’s quieter, and he has a better library.”

Sirius barks a laugh. “All true things.” He sobers and peers into Regulus’ eyes. “Do you want me to stay?”

Regulus frowns. “I thought you were staying with Potter for the rest of the summer.”

“That was the plan,” Sirius replies. “But it doesn’t have to be. I—I had fun, didn’t you?”

Regulus shifts. “Yes, of course.”

Sirius says hurriedly, “I just, you know, if you wanted me to stay, I would.”

Regulus realizes abruptly that Sirius is offering to give up his usual summer with Potter to spend it with family, something he hasn’t willingly done since sorting into Gryffindor at age 11. “You’re not worried about leaving me here, are you?”

“Of course not,” Sirius says, quickly enough to assure Regulus that he means it. “You’re safe as houses here.”

“Then why?” Regulus asks, sounding rather exasperated, even to his own ears.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. Sorry, I—that was stupid. Never mind.”

Regulus’ second revelation follows closely on the second, that Sirius had wanted Regulus to want him to stay, and is disappointed by Regulus’ reaction. And Regulus is Slytherin, but he still blurts out, “Maybe you could come back before the end of the summer? Just for a week or so. I know you still want to spend time with Potter.”

Sirius smiles. “Yeah, that’s kind of what I was thinking, too. If you don’t mind me intruding on your time with Grandfather.”

“We’re all Blacks here,” Regulus replies, offering a concession. “You wouldn’t be an intrusion.”

Sirius ducks his head. “All right then. I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks, then.”

“Looking forward to it,” Regulus says, because he means it, and he has his brother back, and he has a quiet summer away from House politics or conniving, or anything else. Regulus can be Regulus in his grandfather’s house, without pressure to be anything other than that.

Sirius strides forward like the Gryffindor he is, grabbing Regulus up in a hug that’s hard and sincere and warm, and Regulus hugs back, surprising himself. Regulus can’t remember feeling this way about his brother since he was a little kid, but Sirius had just offered to not spend the summer with his chosen brother, and offered to spend it with Regulus instead.

And then Sirius kisses him on top of his head, the way he had when they were both small, and their parents had been particularly cruel. It had always been an affectionate gesture in a house that held little of that.

Maybe that’s why Sirius had offered, though. Their grandfather is kind, but not warm, not affectionate, except in his own way. Sirius is warm, though, at least with the people he likes, and he’s apparently decided that he likes Regulus again.

The next few weeks are quiet and predictable, if a little lonely after having his friends around. Regulus fills his time with reading the various books and having dinner with his grandfather. About a week into his stay, his grandfather clears his throat after dinner and asks, “Do you want to learn about ritual magic?” he asks.

Regulus blinks. “I thought you’d offer that to Sirius.”

“I will, but he wasn’t the one to ask to stay this summer,” his grandfather replies, with a twinkle in his eye. “Plus, I doubt that Sirius is nearly as interested in it as you are.”

“Probably not,” Regulus agrees, and thus begins his formal education in ritual magic. It’s nothing like what they’re taught in school. At Hogwarts, their education is limited to the use of the wand, rather than magic done in ritual. To a certain extent, Regulus understands, since ritual magic can be used to do truly terrible things, like the rending of a soul, or other rituals involving human sacrifice. But ritual magic can also be used to do wonderful things, like healing grievous injuries, and even the creation of life.

“But you have to understand, my boy, the intent with which you enter the ritual circle is all-important,” his grandfather explains during one of their lessons. “Intent matters with a wand as well, in that you need to know your intent, but it’s even more paramount inside the ritual. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Regulus says. “I mean, I understand that intent is important.”

“Just keep that in mind,” his grandfather instructs.

Regulus finds ritual magic fascinating. There’s an elegance to it that’s missing from their usual lessons at Hogwarts. There’s a pageantry in the robes, the candles, the words, the athames, the other accouterments.

“When you’re older, you can join a conclave,” his grandfather says after one of their lessons. “I’ve had invitations from several over the years, but did not have any real desire to join. But you’ll be your brother’s heir until he has issue of his own and one of you should have a good grasp of ritual magic to maintain our relationships with other pureblood houses.”

Regulus doesn’t think that’s going to be a problem. “I can do that.”

“You’ll be an asset to your brother, and to the House of Black,” his grandfather replies. “Remember, Regulus—even if no one else ever says as much, or admits as much to you, the spare is just as important as the heir. Entire kingdoms have been won or lost based on whether those waiting in the wings were ready for command.”

“Do you really believe that?” Regulus asks, somewhat incredulously.

His grandfather sighs heavily. “My boy, I harbor no illusions about what role your brother is likely to take in the war to come, and it’s going to put him directly into the path of danger. He’s a bloody Gryffindor, which means he’s liable to run straight for it, rather than avoiding it like anyone with sense would.”

Regulus barks a laugh, surprised at his grandfather’s candor. “Probably.”

“You are my ace in the hole,” his grandfather says. “Your job is to stay alive.”

“I understand,” Regulus replies.

“Good, I’m glad that you do,” his grandfather replies. “And when your brother returns, I expect you to keep these lessons to yourself, unless or until your brother expresses interest in ritual magic. I believe that he will eventually, but it will have to come from him.”

Regulus agrees with his grandfather’s reasoning, and so quickly agrees. “Of course.”

“Good lad,” his grandfather replies. “I know I can count on you.”

And he feels a warm glow at that, believing that his grandfather doesn’t view him as just the Spare; he has a vital role to play.

~~~~~

“What are you moping about?” James asks about three weeks into Sirius’ stay with the Potters.

“I’m not moping,” Sirius protests. “There’s nothing to mope about.”

“You’ve been quiet,” James points out. “Even my parents have noticed. You’re not your usual boisterous self.”

Sirius shrugs. “I might be a little worried about Regulus.”

“He’s with your grandfather, who likes him, and cares about both of you,” James says. “We had a great two weeks with him, didn’t we? Your brother and his friends were nice. Maybe we’ll even keep hanging out when we go back to school. Moony said the goblin charm worked for him, too. He didn’t even transform the last full moon.”

Sirius frowns. “Yeah, and I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, Prongs, and you know it probably will.”

“I don’t know that, because maybe you actually have a grandfather who gives two fucks about you and your brother, enough to host you both and your friends for two weeks, who gave your werewolf friend a charm to protect you and him.”

Sirius sighs, knowing that James is right. “I know. I’m not actually that worried about him. I just wonder if our grandfather will decide that Regulus is the better heir while I’m not there.”

“Didn’t you say he’d already made his choice?” James asks, logically. “And technically, if you’re the heir, he’s the spare. He has to be able to take your place if necessary, right? Maybe him spending time with your grandfather will help with that.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “I know. I just—I don’t know. Something about this whole thing has thrown me.”

“You were going to run away from home, and now it turns out that you don’t have to,” James points out. “Harder to run away from home when it’s somewhere you actually want to be.”

They’re in James’ room, lying on his bed, James’ head on a pillow, Sirius with his stocking feet on the pillow next to James’ head. “True,” Sirius finally admits, and maybe that’s what’s throwing him—that he actually has a home he wants to return to.

“I’m not angry, you know,” James adds. “I’m happy for you. Your grandfather seems like a decent sort, and I’m not going to forget what he did for Moony.”

Sirius relaxes slightly, glad for James’ understanding. “Thanks.”

James nudges him with his foot. “Don’t thank me for being your friend, Padfoot.”

Sirius thinks that a big part of his disquiet is the fact that he’s torn about where he wants to be for the first time. There’s just something about his grandfather, and how his grandfather treats him, that has drawn Sirius in.

“And trust me, you’re not being an idiot for thinking you can rely on your grandfather,” James adds. “I asked my dad what charms from the goblins normally cost, and he wouldn’t say, but he said he’d hesitate to spend that much unless it was to save my life or Mum’s.”

Sirius blinks. He knew that the charm was probably expensive, but the Potters had plenty of money. Maybe not the old money that the Blacks did, but James wouldn’t need to work after school if he chose. “That much?”

“If your grandfather wanted to buy Moony’s loyalty, he put down a huge down payment,” James remarks wryly.

“I don’t think that was the point, really,” Sirius objects.

James snorts. “Moony knows that, and so do I. But that speaks to how much he cares about you.”

“Or about how badly he wants the Black line to continue,” Sirius mutters.

James pokes him with a toe again. “There’s more to it than that, and you know it.”

Sirius pokes him back. “Stop it.”

“You stop it.”

After that, the conversation devolves into a wrestling match that leaves them both giggling and breathless, at least until Sirius transforms and licks a stripe up James’ face.

“Ew! Padfoot!” James protests. “Gross.”

Sirius sits down, pleased with himself, and then transforms back, sprawling on the floor. “Liked that, did you?”

James rolls his eyes. “It’s no wonder your form is a dog. Have you told your brother or grandfather yet?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Not yet. I probably should, though, huh?”

“Well, your grandfather at least,” James says. “Maybe wait until you’re sure your brother isn’t going to change his mind and join the Death Eaters. Us being animagi could be really helpful, you know.” He pauses. “At least for you and Wormtail. My form is only useful if we’re in the woods, and there isn’t anyone trying to hunt me.”

Sirius chuckles. “There is that. Maybe Lily will think it’s majestic.”

James’ expression turns glum in a heartbeat. “She’s never going to give me the time of day.”

Sirius lays back on the floor and puts his hands behind his head. “She seems to like smart people. I mean, she’s friends with Snape, or she was. Maybe buckle down and show her you can be serious.”

James smirks at him. “I thought you were Sirius.”

“Every day,” Sirius says cheerfully. “But you should ask Moony for advice. I think Lily might kind of like him, at least more than she likes you at the moment.”

James’ expression is morose. “Do you ever think she’ll ever go on a date with me?”

“If you play your cards right, and you’re very lucky, Prongs,” Sirius replies. “So, buck up. You’re rich, handsome, and you have a first-rate mind when you apply it.”

James rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. What does that make you?”

“The Heir to an Ancient and Noble House,” Sirius says grandly, waving a hand to show just how much he doesn’t care.

And he doesn’t care, not about the status, anyway. If his grandfather had been a pauper and had shown him that much care, Sirius would have felt much the same way.

“Like that matters to you,” James says.

Mrs. Potter calls, “Come eat, boys. Dinner is ready.”

The Potters don’t have house elves or servants. They live simply, and Mrs. Potter seems to enjoy taking care of the house and cooking meals. Sirius suspects that one of the reasons that the Potters’ fortune has only grown is because they’ve been careful with their money. They live in a five-bedroom house in a nice area of Surrey, with a few wizard neighbors, but mostly around Muggles.

Dinner is a simple affair, as usual. No one dresses up, and they sit down to a nice roast chicken with veg and mash, and it’s all delicious but not elaborate. It’s nothing like dinners at his grandfather’s house; it’s warmer and more homey. 

And still, Sirius can’t quite decide which he likes best.

“How are you, Sirius?” Mrs. Potter asks. “You haven’t seemed like yourself. James said that your grandfather was nice, but—“

“He’s been very kind,” Sirius quickly says. “He isn’t anything like my parents, and my brother decided to stay with him this summer. It’s throwing me for a bit of a loop.”

Mrs. Potter’s shoulders relax. “That’s wonderful, dear. You know we love having you here, and we view you as another son, but it’s always good to have family to count on.”

“I feel like I can count on my grandfather,” Sirius admits.

“But you’re expecting him to disappoint you,” Mr. Potter says knowingly. “That’s an easy position to take, Sirius. Give yourself room enough to be pleasantly surprised, though.”

Sirius smiles crookedly. “I already have. I thought I’d spend the last week or so before the school year begins with him.”

Both of the Potters smile at him warmly. “Good for you,” Mr. Potter says. “I’m glad you’re giving your grandfather a chance.”

Mrs. Potter beams. “James said your grandfather was lovely, if a bit formal. I have to admit that I met him once, and he was very much a gentleman.”

Sirius blinks. “You did?”

She laughs. “Oh, yes. It was our engagement party, and Lord Black wouldn’t have had to attend, but he did so anyway. He was very kind, and only had eyes for your grandmother.”

Sirius smiles. “I don’t have many memories of my grandmother, but I remember her fondly.”

“She was so lovely,” Mrs. Potter says warmly. “Just gorgeous, and so elegant and kind. Everyone loved her.” She focuses back on Sirius. “You take after her, Sirius.”

Sirius doesn’t know about that, but he suddenly wants to live up to her memory—elegant and kind. “Thank you.”

“You could do worse,” Mr. Potter says enthusiastically. “Oh, your grandmother was absolutely lovely.”

Sirius wants to know more, and he resolves to investigate as soon as he’s back at his grandfather’s house.

~~~~~

Arcturus has no intention of making the mistake of not educating the spare. He plans on doing everything in his power to ensure that both of his grandsons survive, and he wants them to have complementary skills, but he’s not going to leave Regulus unprepared.

And then he gets a letter from Sirius, asking if he could return for a week or so before he has to go back to Hogwarts.

Arcturus smiles, and quickly dashes off a reply to invite Sirius to stay for as long as he wants. He knows how much Sirius cherishes his time with the Potters, and the fact that he’s asked to return before the summer is over is evidence that Arcturus is making strides.

He lines up the same dueling instructor from the beginning of the summer, knowing that Sirius could use the individual training.

“Your brother is coming to stay at the end of the summer,” Arcturus says over dinner with Regulus. “Do you know anything about that?”

Regulus shrugs. “I don’t. Except that he offered to stay when he knew I’d be here all summer.”

“That’s good,” Arcturus says. “He cares about you, and what happens to you.”

Regulus flushes slightly. “Yes, it seems so.”

“Is that a new thing?” Arcturus asks.

Regulus shakes his head. “No, it’s an old thing. He always looked after me when we were kids.”

“Then he’s the man I know him to be,” Arcturus replies. “I’ve hired the dueling instructor to return.”

He can see Regulus take a deep breath. “That’s good. We’re both going to need the lessons.”

“You aren’t planning to take part in the war, are you?” Arcturus asks.

Regulus shakes his head. “No, but I’ll need to watch my back in the halls, and maybe watch Sirius’ back when his friends can’t.”

“Far be it from me to discourage you from learning how to defend yourself,” Arcturus replies, pleased. “You should learn as much as you can about dueling. You might never need it, but better to have the knowledge than not to know something when you need it.”

“True,” Regulus agrees. “I might not be able to be open about it, but I’d like to be a help to him.”

“And you’ll get your chance, I’m sure,” Arcturus replies. “Keep that in mind, my boy, for when your brother irritates you beyond all mentioning.”

Regulus actually laughs at that, which is impressive, because he’s so serious all the time. “I will.”

Sirius arrives a week later, breaking out in a wide grin when he sees them. “How’s your summer been, Reg?”

Regulus answers his smile with one of his own. “Great. How are the Potters?”

“In good health,” Sirius replies. “I would like to speak to you about our grandmother if you would allow me, Grandfather.”

Arcturus remembers that he’d been at the Potters’ engagement party, and they would have met both of them, and probably spoken to Sirius about his grandmother.

He doesn’t like talking about his wife, because the memories are still painful, but Sirius deserves to know about her, as does Regulus.

“Of course,” Arcturus replies. “I have some photo albums we can look at after dinner.”

Sirius’ smile softens, becomes grateful. “Thank you. Mr. and Mrs. Potter spoke highly of her. They said—they said I took after her.”

Arcturus understands why. Sirius has a kind heart, hidden beneath a brash exterior, but he’s a good boy. “You do. Your brother takes after me, I’m afraid.”

“That isn’t a bad thing at all,” Sirius replies with a smile. “Our grandmother fell in love with you, didn’t she? That says something important.”

Arcturus smiles. “I have rehired the dueling instructor for you and your brother. You could do with more practice.”

Sirius nods. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Dinner that night is almost jovial. Arcturus finds himself relaxing as Regulus gives Sirius a hard time about his ignorance, and Sirius gives Regulus a hard time about how many lessons he’ll need to be a competent dueler.

After dinner, they repair to the study, and Arcturus asks Cordy to bring the photo albums that he’s hidden away.

And then, with his grandsons on either side of him, Arcturus begins to go through the albums. “This was your grandmother as a child,” he begins, pointing to a picture of a small girl on a miniature broom zipping around, laughing. “She was a terror on a broom. Much like Reg here.”

Regulus beams. “Really?”

“Hm? Oh, yes,” Arcturus replies. “I look forward to seeing your games this next year, although you’ll forgive me for not wearing school colors during the Slytherin-Gryffindor game.”

Sirius snorts. “We just expect you to buy the butter beers after—in celebration and in commiseration.”

“I think that’s understood,” Arcturus replies. “Now this, this is your grandmother at Hogwarts.”

Regulus leans closer. “Wait, she was a ‘puff?”

“Indeed, she was. Loyal as the day was long, your grandmother,” Arcturus replies. “Smart, driven, but not reckless. She would have done well in any house, but she told me that she begged the Sorting Hat for Hufflepuff. She thought she’d have the most fun there, and she was sorely in need of fun.”

“Gryffindor is fun,” Sirius mutters.

Regulus doesn’t reply, maybe because he’s also wishing that he’d begged for any house but Slytherin. “I didn’t know you could ask for another house,” he says.

“I begged for any house other than Slytherin,” Sirius admits. “I wanted to be with James. I met him on the train.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Arcturus assures him. “Your house does not set your futures, my lads. You can choose your own fates.”

He turns the page, to show their grandmother with her school friends, their arms around each other.

“She never had any trouble making friends with other houses,” he says. There’s someone from every house in the picture. “Remember to make allies, boys. It’s not just about survival.”

“I know,” Sirius says. “Reg?”

“We should have a study group,” Regulus says mildly. “My year will start to study for OWLs soon, and yours should start studying for NEWTs. We could do worse.”

Sirius nods slowly. “I think I can sell that somehow. James wants to get closer to Lily Evans.”

“She’s good at Potions and Charms,” Regulus says. “She’d help.”

“I’ll bet she would,” Sirius agrees.

Arcturus is proud of his grandsons. 

Chapter Text

Sirius is better at dueling than he is, but he also has more experience. Regulus doesn’t mind, really. Sirius is gentle with him, correcting his stance and his pronunciation when necessary. He likes this side of his brother, one he hasn’t seen since Sirius started at Hogwarts.

Regulus is looking forward to seeing his friends again, of course, but he’s also dreading it. The relationship with his brother will have to be hidden.

And he’ll have to deal with the Death Eaters in his House, some of whom had almost certainly been marked over the summer. They’ll likely be particularly vicious in the hallway, especially toward those they view as blood traitors.

He’ll have his friends, at least, and all of them are pureblood, so there’s at least a chance that the Death Eaters will leave him alone, or will think twice before messing with him.

If they do attack him, though, Regulus will at least have had dueling lessons.

At the end of the two weeks, they’re heading back to Hogwarts, and the night before their grandfather gives them both a wrapped gift at dinner. “For the coming school year,” Arcturus says. “This is an important year for you both, even though you don’t have either OWLs or NEWTs. It’s time to begin preparing, though, and to solidify your standing with your peers.”

Regulus understands what his grandfather is saying. For him, fourth year means preparing for OWLs and making the friendships that are going to stand him well during the rest of his time at school. Sirius is preparing for NEWTs, and the next chapter of his life.

Sirius opens his gift first, and it’s a book on advanced defense spells. Sirius grins. “Thank you, Grandfather. I’m sure this will be useful.”

“Good, I’m glad you like it,” Arcturus replies.

Regulus’ gift is a planner for school, where he can keep track of all his appointments, assignments, and exams. “This is wonderful, Grandfather.”

In spite of Arcturus’ wealth, their gifts are thoughtful but not terribly expensive, even though they’re well-made. Regulus likes that his grandfather doesn’t go for ostentatious gifts, and that they’re suited to the two of them. And their gifts have so far been of equal value, with their grandfather not showing preference between the two of them.

“I’m sure you’ll both do well this year,” Arcturus says. “And if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

Regulus doesn’t think their parents had ever made a similar offer, and he knows that his grandfather is being sincere. “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Sirius echoes.

The next day, Arcturus has a driver deliver them to the train station, and they stand outside for a moment. “Once more into the breach, brother,” Sirius says. “I don’t have to tell you to watch your back.”

“I have friends for that,” Regulus points out. “So do you.”

“Still, be careful,” Sirius says. “Some of the snakes will be newly marked and out to prove themselves.”

As if I don’t already know, Regulus thinks. Once upon a time, he might have been one of them, or looking forward to being one of them. Now, he has to walk a very fine line, but it’s worth it. “I’m aware.”

Sirius flashes an apologetic grin. “I know. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” And then, with a nod, he strides inside the station. Regulus gives him a few moments and then follows.

He passes through the portal for Platform 9 3/4, and sees Sirius greeting his friends enthusiastically. And then Regulus hears his name called, and sees Violet waving at him. 

“How was the rest of your summer?” she asks as they get on board the train together.

“Good,” Regulus admits. “Quiet. I spent the rest of the summer with my grandfather, although Sirius joined us for the last two weeks. We had additional dueling lessons.”

“That should come in handy,” Violet comments. “We might have one more year before they really step up their recruitment efforts.”

Regulus knows exactly who “they” is in that sentence. “At least Rowle is gone.”

A number of the Death Eaters have graduated, although there are plenty who are ready, willing, and able to take their place.

Violet gives him a look. “There are those who are worse than Rowle, you know.”

Regulus makes a face, mostly because he knows she’s right. “We’ll just have to be careful, that’s all.”

“Are you going to pretend to still be feuding with your brother?” Violet asks.

Regulus shrugs. “It’s safer for both of us. And for my grandfather. I would hate to paint a target on either of them.”

“Newsflash, Black,” Violet replies. “Your brother is going to do that to himself.”

“I have to protect my grandfather,” Regulus counters. “You know that.”

“Well, don’t noise it about that he’s anti-You-Know-Who, and you might just manage to avoid it,” Violet comments.

They’re joined shortly by Elias, Byron and Myra once they find a compartment on the train. It’s a pleasant trip to the school. The others all have stories about their trips abroad over the summer, to the Maldives, France, and Mallorca. 

“How is your grandfather?” Elias asks. “My parents couldn’t believe that the powerful Lord Black was that great of a host.”

Regulus hesitates. “I think he’s rearranged his priorities. And he seems to be doing well at the moment.”

“Your grandfather is a good one,” Myra says, a little wistfully. “None of my grandparents are still around.”

“He’s better company than my parents are,” Regulus agrees. He tries not to think about the fact that his parents hadn’t even raised a fuss about him staying with his grandfather for the entire summer, probably because they’re hoping that his grandfather will make Regulus his heir instead of Sirius.

But it also stings a bit, since Regulus has always known he’s the favored child, and now his parents seem to have discarded him in favor of using him to get to his grandfather.

“Are you going to spend the holidays with him again?” Elias asks.

Regulus shrugs, trying to remain nonchalant. “I don’t know. I suppose I will if my parents don’t object.”

“Why would they object?” Byron asks. “Currying favor with your grandfather can only help them.”

Regulus grimaces. “I know.”

And he hates that everything is about what you can get out of someone. He wants something more for his life.

~~~~~

Sirius spots Remus first, and he’s amazed at the changes in his friend. Remus looks good, tanned and filled out more, a healthy flush in his cheeks, and a broad smile on his face. 

Sirius pulls him into a hard hug, pounding him on the back. “How are you? You look good!”

“I’m great,” Remus says immediately. “Thanks to your grandfather. This summer has been—I can’t put it into words.”

“You don’t need to,” Sirius replies. “I can see it for myself. I’m glad the charm worked.”

“We actually went to Wales to visit my mum’s family,” Remus admits. “For the first time in ages. My parents are thrilled.”

Sirius smiles. “Good, I’m glad.”

“Padfoot!”

James runs up to them, and it’s a repeat of his conversation with Remus. James is just as pleased as Sirius is with Remus’ improved condition. Peter is the last to arrive, and they find a compartment on the train.

They all sprawl out, talking about their summers. “Who’s keeping the map?” James asks in a low voice.

“I’ve got it,” Sirius says. “But maybe you should keep it, Prongs. You’ve got the cloak.”

“Yeah, and you have a little brother to look after,” James counters. “And probable Death Eaters roaming the halls. You keep it.”

His grandfather’s words echo in Sirius’ ears, about the importance of this year. He doesn’t think that they’ll ever be too old for pranks, but he also understands that the time for childish things is coming to an end. The dueling lessons had been a strong reminder of that.

He suddenly feels the shortness of their remaining time at Hogwarts—just two more years.

They change into their school robes on the train, and climb into the carriages that will take them up to the school. As usual, the four of them fill one up, and Sirius catches sight of his brother getting into one with his friends. 

Sirius is glad that his brother has a group of friends who will watch his back, especially since their fake-estrangement makes it difficult for him to do so.

Regulus catches his eye, giving him an almost infinitesimal nod, and then they’re on the way back to school. 

The Great Hall is as splendid as always, with the ceiling reflecting the night sky outside, and floating candles illuminating the room. They take their seats at the Gryffindor table, currently empty except for plates and cutlery. 

Headmaster Dumbledore calls the room to order for the Sorting, and Sirius’ attention is grabbed by the Hat’s song, full of dire pronouncements for the future and a coming war, along with a directive to find common ground.

It’s the most ominous song since Sirius started at Hogwarts, and it brings home just how serious the war is getting.

They cheer each Gryffindor who joins their table, around 30 in total, all of them looking small and scared, but also excited. The table fills with food after the last student is sorted, and they fill their plates. 

Once they’ve finished eating, the Gryffindor prefects lead the first years up to the Gryffindor common room, leaving the rest of them to make their own way. Sirius is halfway to the door with his friends when Dumbledore calls, “Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Pettigrew.”

“It’s too early to get in trouble,” James mutters.

“You’re not in trouble,” Dumbledore says, apparently hearing James. “But I did want to have a word with you all. As the Sorting Hat said this evening, the war is on our doorstep.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Peter asks nervously.

“Nothing, if that’s your choice,” Dumbledore replies. “But I’d like to speak with you about your other options.”

“We’d like to hear them,” Sirius says firmly. “It’s always good to have options, isn’t it, Peter?”

Peter doesn’t look entirely convinced by that, but he follows them up to the Headmaster’s office. 

“Have a seat, boys,” Dumbledore says genially. “Mr. Lupin, you’re looking well.”

Remus has a strange expression on his face when he replies, “Yes, it was a good summer.”

That’s all he says, with no mention of the goblin-made charm that Arcturus had given him, and the rest of them are too experienced as pranksters to give Remus away. Sirius isn’t sure why Remus doesn’t want to tell Dumbledore about the charm, but they’ll back him up.

Dumbledore looks slightly bemused, but he doesn’t press. “Have you all heard of the Order of the Phoenix?”

Sirius has heard the rumors, and he nods, as does James. Remus holds his tongue, and Peter just shifts nervously.

“It’s a bit early to induct you into the Order, but I want you to think about it over the next year,” Dumbledore says. “The war is getting more serious, and we’re going to need people like you, who can devote your lives to the cause.”

There’s no question that Sirius is ready to do just that—Voldemort has to be stopped—but something about Dumbledore’s words gives him pause. He’s thinking about his grandfather, and what his reaction would be if Sirius were to get himself killed, and about James’ parents if something happened to him.

“Of course, we’re interested, Headmaster,” Sirius says smoothly. “And we appreciate the show of faith, especially this early.”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows go up a bit, probably recognizing Sirius’ tone as one he uses to get himself out of trouble.

James obviously does, too, but he smiles and says, “Like Sirius says, Headmaster, we appreciate your faith in us. We’ll do anything we can to stop You-Know-Who.”

“You can use his name, my boy,” Dumbledore says. “Inside Hogwarts’ walls, you’re safe.”

Sirius has heard the rumor that people refuse to say Voldemort’s name because he’s put some sort of trace on it. Anyone saying his name, rather than calling him by his title or some euphemism, flags his attention as someone who’s defying him.

“How long will that last?” Peter mumbles. “That’s all my parents could talk about this summer.”

In contrast, if the Potters mentioned Voldemort, it was behind closed doors and outside of their hearing, and his grandfather hadn’t said anything either, other than giving them dueling lessons.

“Don’t worry yourself, Mr. Pettigrew,” Dumbledore replies soothingly. “As long as I’m Headmaster here, you’ll be safe.”

“Yeah, but we won’t be students here forever,” Peter protests. “And I’m no soldier.”

“You don’t need to be,” Sirius says, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. We have two years before we’re out of school and free to join the Order. Isn’t that right, Headmaster?”

“That’s correct,” Dumbledore agrees. “How is your grandfather doing?”

Sirius stiffens, but he pastes a smile on his face. “He’s doing well, thank you.”

“And has he pressured you to remain neutral?” Dumbledore asks, his tone mild.

“Not at all,” Sirius replies. “He actually gave us dueling lessons.”

Dumbledore smiles. “I’m glad he’s taking your security seriously. And your brother?”

“As far as I know, Regulus is doing well,” Sirius replies evenly.

James clears his throat. “If you’ll excuse us, Headmaster, it’s late, and we don’t want to miss curfew.”

“Of course, boys,” the Headmaster says. “Have a good evening.”

They get out of his office and start down the stairs, and Peter hisses, “What the hell was that all about?”

“That was about the Headmaster lining up his next group of soldiers for the coming war,” James replies. “And he expects us to be among them.”

“Let’s not talk about this here and now,” Sirius says. “We can discuss it tomorrow in the Room of Requirement, away from prying eyes and ears.”

“And why wouldn’t you tell the Headmaster about your charm?” Peter asks, sounding querulous. 

Remus shakes his head. “Padfoot is right. We can talk about it later, in private.”

“Our room—“ Peter begins.

“Still not entirely private,” James asserts. “Later, Wormtail. We don’t discuss our pranks in public, you know that.”

“I didn’t know this was a prank,” Peter grumbles.

Sirius doesn’t reply, because he agrees with James and Remus—they need privacy. Peter tries to get answers out of them once more, when they’re back in their room, but they all hush him.

Sirius thinks about what had happened in Dumbledore’s office, when Dumbledore had gone from an adult they could trust, to being one they didn’t. And he knows the tide had turned when Remus kept the charm a secret.

From that moment, Dumbledore had gone from an adult they trusted to just an adult, just with one secret held back.

Sirius doesn’t understand why, but he knows it’s true, right down to his bones.

They get their class schedules at breakfast the next morning, and they have most of them together. 

“End of the day,” Sirius whispers. “Before dinner. The usual place.”

The others nod, although Peter looks terribly unhappy. Sirius is getting a little worried about him, but sets it aside. He’s sure that Peter is just having the same realizations as the rest of them—the end of the time at Hogwarts is looming, and they’ll have to make a decision about what to do after.

Classes that day are fairly boring, mostly going over their summer homework, and what to expect from the year to come. Sixth year is the last compulsory year. Plenty of students leave before taking their NEWTs, because they have a job lined up, or because they don’t want to do school anymore.

Sixth year is typically when people decide whether they want to do another year to do their NEWTs.

Sirius already knows that he’s going to take them, because he’s sure that his grandfather will want that, and Sirius wants to keep his options open. He won’t need to work after Hogwarts, but he knows that knowledge isn’t wasted, not when Voldemort is recruiting or bullying the best and brightest into joining him.

Once they’re done with their classes, they all make their way to the Room of Requirement, with Peter being the last to arrive, since he’s taking Muggle Studies, having heard that it’s a good way to get a Ministry job.

“Okay, what the bloody hell is going on?” Peter bursts out. “I thought we liked Dumbledore!”

“We do,” James says. “But Remus doesn’t trust him, and if he doesn’t trust him, neither do we.”

Remus sighs audibly. “It’s not that I don’t trust the Headmaster. My parents swore me to secrecy.”

The Room of Requirement has provided them with a fireplace and squishy chairs that they all sprawl onto. James points at Remus. “Explain, because I know your parents think that Dumbledore hung the moon.”

“We had a very long conversation about why people do nice things for you, and how they probably do it because they’re going to want something in exchange,” Remus admits. “And if not right away, then someday.”

“Because of my grandfather,” Sirius says bluntly.

Remus nods. “Because of him, yeah. But when I said I thought he mostly wanted to keep me safe, they disagreed, and I asked why they wouldn’t trust your grandfather when they trusted Dumbledore, and they admitted that Dumbledore might want me to do something for the war effort that I wouldn’t want to do.”

“So, what?” Sirius asks. “They’re okay with you owing the headmaster, but they don’t want you owing my grandfather?”

“Dumbledore is the leader of the Light,” Remus says, almost apologetically. “But—Sirius, I like your grandfather, and I just got to thinking. What is Dumbledore going to ask us to do, and what would he do if he knew that I didn’t owe him anymore?”

“And Dumbledore just asked us to put our lives on the line for the cause,” Sirius says.

James frowns. “But we’ve talked about this. We were going to join the war effort as soon as we were out of Hogwarts.”

Sirius hesitates. “Yeah, we were. Maybe we are. I’m not saying we don’t. It’s just—I never had someone to give a fuck whether I lived or died before now. Your parents would be devastated if anything happened to you, James.”

James frowns. “Our lives aren’t more important than anyone else’s, Pads. People are dying, more people every day.”

“And I’m not saying we’re more important,” Sirius argues. “I’m just—you know what? Forget it.”

“Did your grandfather try to get you to stay out of the war?” James asks.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “No, James. Like I told Dumbledore, he set up dueling lessons, both when you were there, and at the end of the summer. He hasn’t tried to sway me in any way, okay?”

“Prongs,” Remus says softly. “Lord Black was nothing but hospitable and kind while we were there, and it makes sense that Padfoot would be rethinking his priorities. Dumbledore wants us to be foot soldiers in this war. There’s nothing wrong with taking a moment to decide whether or not we really want that.”

“Okay, fair,” James says after a moment’s thought. “And we have two years to decide and to prepare.”

“I want to save lives,” Sirius says. “More than anything, I want to prevent Voldemort and his Death Eaters from killing more people. But we can’t do that if we’re dead.”

“So, we fight, but we fight smart,” James says. “And we don’t go rushing into danger. We take care of each other. We treat this like a prank, the best prank ever, where we can’t get caught.”

Sirius feels his expression harden. “And when we are ready, we kill every dark bastard we can. If we’re doing this, we go in prepared.”

“We should keep pretending like I need to go to the Shrieking Shack every month,” Remus adds. “Otherwise, Dumbledore will know about the charm.”

Peter is looking ever more alarmed. “Wait, what? Are we—are we seriously talking about going against both Dumbledore and You-Know-Who?”

“No, we’re not,” Sirius says soothingly. “We’re just talking about watching each others’ backs, Wormtail. This is bigger than our usual pranks, and you don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to be. You can stay out of it.”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Peter demands.

Sirius holds up his hands. “Hardly. I’m saying it’s too early to make any decisions, let alone ones that are life-altering, okay? We don’t even know what we’re going to be doing after Hogwarts.”

“You mean that I don’t,” Peter grumbles. “You and James are set for life.”

Peter isn’t wrong, but that doesn’t change things. He and James could live off their family fortunes forever, but that doesn’t mean they will.

“I’m not interested in living off the family fortune forever,” James says. “Don’t be a wanker, Peter.”

Peter subsides at that, but Sirius files that away. Maybe his grandfather has had more influence than he thought, but Sirius is beginning to see the signs of cowardice in Peter—cowardice and jealousy.

And Sirius knows that’s a terrible combination.

~~~~~

Regulus immediately notices the change in the Slytherin common room when he enters. It’s obvious who’s taken the mark and who hasn’t. Mostly because those who have the Dark Mark have the sleeves of their robes rolled up, to make a display.

“They’re just trying to intimidate us,” Violet whispers in his ear. “It’s a show of force, to convince us that we have no choice but to join them. They’re bullies.”

“I know,” Regulus says, feeling as though he’s walking into enemy territory, and wishing for the safety of Black Manor.

“We could pretend to date,” Violet says, slipping her hand into his. “Pretend we’re interested in no one but each other.”

In response, Regulus bends down and kisses her, with all the desperation he feels. Since he’s been harboring a bit of a crush on her for the last few months, it’s also not a hardship.

“Convincing,” Violet says, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone, even as whistles erupt from the common room.

“We know what you were doing this summer, Reg!” one of the Slyhtherins says, but Regulus is looking at Violet, not at whoever is talking.

Regulus channels his brother’s insouciant grin. “Someone has to carry on the Black line, and my brother hasn’t shown any sign of settling down. I’m hoping it will make my grandfather change his mind about the heir.”

Let them think he’s playing the long game. Let them think he’s playing his grandfather, and doing whatever he can to get ahold of the Black fortune. Let them think that he and Violet are together.

Let them think whatever they want as long as they can stay safe.

Violet puts a hand on his chest, over his heart, and pastes an infatuated smile on her face. “It just blossomed last year, and then when I spent time with him and his grandfather, I couldn’t help myself.”

It could be true, is the thing, and Regulus likes Violet. She’s smart and canny, and she would be an excellent partner in crime.

Regulus pulls her over to a corner of the room. “If my grandfather gets word of this, your father is going to have a marriage contract before he can ask questions.”

“Why would I have a problem with that?” Violet murmurs. “I wasn’t after that, but I could do much worse, you know?”

Regulus kisses her again, partly to keep their cover, and partly to seal the deal. “I could, too. You are an excellent partner in crime.”

“I think I’m a partner against crime, but I understand,” Violet replies. “We’ll keep each other safe, right?”

Regulus nods. “Always. Thank you for being smarter than me.”

Violet smirks at him. “Always.”

Regulus chuckles. “Even if my grandfather didn’t put a marriage proposal on you dad’s desk, I might. Slytherins don’t marry for love.”

Violet smiles at him. “No, we marry for ambition, and you are perfect for that.”

But there’s something in her eyes that makes Regulus think that it’s not just ambition.

Of course, even between Houses, gossip travels through Hogwarts like wildfire, and Regulus is not at all surprised when his brother gives him a look over dinner the next day, even across the room. Regulus tips his head in acknowledgment, keeping the gesture subtle, and then he proceeds with dinner.

He and Violet walk out with joined hands, and Regulus whispers in her ear, “My brother wants a conversation.”

“Do you think he’s heard already?” Violet asks.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Regulus admits. “You know what gossip is like around here, and we aren’t the only Slytherins who talk to other people in other Houses.”

Violet nods, and kisses him lightly on the lips. “I’ll meet you in the library when you’re done. We have to keep up appearances, after all.”

Regulus smiles. “See you soon.”

There’s an unused classroom near the Great Hall, where he and Sirius have met up before when they didn’t want to use the Room of Requirement, and just have a quick word. Sirius slips into the room behind him a few seconds later.

“Is this a stunt, or are you going to be writing to Grandfather to ask for a marriage contract?” Sirius asks, sounding more amused than anything else.

Regulus turns to face him. “It’s a little bit of a stunt, but only because we needed the other Slytherins to stay off our backs, and thought it would be easier if they thought we were completely infatuated with each other.”

Sirius frowns. “How bad are we talking, Reg?”

“Lots of newly marked Death Eaters with the sleeves of their robes pulled up,” Regulus replies. “He marked people in my year, Siri.”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “And Dumbledore wants to recruit us for his secret army.”

Regulus frowns. “You’re not even out of school yet!”

“Which is what we told him,” Sirius replies. “Remus was wary, and so were the rest of us as a result. Turns out that Remus’ parents swore him to secrecy about the charm, and made him promise not to tell Dumbledore.”

“Who knew that a lifetime of lying to adults would stand you in such good stead?” Regulus jokes.

Sirius snorts. “Fair. So, you and Violet?”

“I like her,” Regulus offers. “She’d be an excellent partner.”

“She does seem to be,” Sirius agrees. “I’m glad you have someone to watch your back.”

“I do,” Regulus insists. “We’re going to get through this. And if Grandfather has to send her father a marriage contract—I could do worse.”

“Better you than me,” Sirius jokes. “You can be the one to provide heirs for the House of Black.”

Regulus raises his eyebrows. “Something you want to tell me, brother?”

“I have no interest in settling down just yet, or maybe ever, that’s all,” Sirius replies. “Don’t read too much into it.”

Regulus gives him a searching look, and he wonders if some of Sirius’ reticence in thinking about his future has to do with the war. Regulus’ job is to stay alive and keep his head down; Sirius is likely to fling himself into danger at the first opportunity.

“I’ll read exactly as much into it as I need to,” Regulus replies. “Don’t go getting yourself killed like a bloody Gryffindor.”

“I am a bloody Gryffindor,” Sirius counters. “Be careful, and watch Violet’s back, Reg. If they can’t get to you, they might well try to go through her to get to you.”

Regulus hadn’t thought about that possibility, and he feels a sudden spike of concern. “I hadn’t—“

“You’d both be in danger regardless,” Sirius adds quickly. “It wouldn’t matter if you were together or not. But at least try to stick together, or make sure that Violet is with others or around others, who can watch her back, okay? We expect them to come after us. But they may very well decide to go after you for refusing to join them.”

Regulus swallows. “I know.”

“I’m going to write to Grandfather, and ask him to talk to the goblins, see if they can provide a charm that will help repel the Imperius, and any other mind-altering spell or potion,” Sirius says. “If Grandfather gives it to you, no one is going to ask any questions. It will just be a gift. You can even tell everyone that you’re the favorite.”

Regulus laughs. “Better to keep them guessing.”

Sirius claps him on the shoulder. “Be careful.”

“You, too,” he says.

“I’ll let you go first,” Sirius says, taking out a piece of paper and unfolding it. He taps it with his wand and says, “I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.”

Regulus stares at it. “Is that—“

“A map of Hogwarts that shows the location of everyone in the castle?” Sirius asks archly. “It is, and it’s a secret.”

“My lips are sealed,” Regulus promises. 

“The coast is clear,” Sirius says. “Go on.”

Regulus claps him on the shoulder as he leaves the room, slipping out and heading for the library. Violet is sitting with Byron and Myra, and Regulus breathes a sigh of relief when he sees her unharmed.

He slides into the seat next to her, and she asks, “Is everything okay?”

“Sirius is going to write to Grandfather to ask for something to protect me from the Imperius,” Regulus says. “Violet, I suggest you write to your father and do the same, or I can write to my grandfather on your behalf.”

“I’ll write to my father,” she replies. “He’s always encouraged me to know my own mind. Pretty sure he would hate for someone to use the Imperius on me, and your brother is right to be concerned.”

“How much do we need to worry?” Byron asks.

“It’s worse in Slytherin,” Regulus admits. “There were people in our year newly marked.”

Elias sprawls in the seat next to Byron. “It’s not a joke. I just about took two hexes in the back from our own Housemates. They’re out for blood.”

“No one goes anywhere alone,” Regulus says. “You know the professors won’t be able to do much, not against the Death Eaters. They haven’t been able to do anything until now.”

“Dumbledore has kept us safe so far,” Myra points out.

“And there are still Death Eaters in the school who will curse us in the back,” Elias points out. “Dumbledore’s protection isn’t going to mean much if we’re dead, or forced to get the Mark under an Imperius.”

Regulus knows Elias has a point. For all Dumbledore’s posturing about Hogwarts being safe while he’s in charge, it won’t matter much if one of the other students casts an Unforgivable in the hallway. Sure, they might wind up in Azkaban, but that won’t save their target.

He wonders if there’s any way he could get a copy of Sirius’ map so he could tell when people are close, but he doubts he could use it clandestinely. And he knows better than to mention it to anyone else.

The map will help keep Sirius and his friends safe, and Regulus will have to watch his friends’ back, while they watch his. It’s the only way they’re going to make it through the next four years of school.

The next few days are tense. The Death Eaters—that they know about, anyway—settle down a bit over the next couple of days. There’s still the sense around the school that Dumbledore is in control, even if it’s been shaken.

Regulus sticks close to Violet and Elias, even in the common room, and if they’re not there, or in class, or the Great Hall, they stick to the library. It just seems safer.

Then, about a week after classes begin, his grandfather’s owl swoops in over the breakfast table, dropping a wrapped package into Regulus’ hands. 

Regulus tears off the wrapping and finds a note written in his grandfather’s unsteady hand. He knows that the illness is beginning to take its toll. Still, the writing is legible.

Dear Regulus,

Your brother tells me that you might have need of the enclosed. It should do the job. I must congratulate you on making the first overture toward a very advantageous match. I’ve done a bit of research, and have reached out to her father. His response was quite warm. Please let me know if there’s anything else you might need.

Your Grandfather

Regulus lets out a little snort of laughter. His grandfather is always so formal, but there’s care if you read between the lines, enough so that his grandfather has already reached out to Violet’s father.

He opens the box to find a pair of matching rings, gold, with engraving on the bands. They’re relatively simple, the sort of first courting gesture offered by a pureblood family to someone they consider a good match.

Even better, they can also be charmed to protect the wearer against spells that alter the mind—mostly to guard against love spells, but if the charms are strong enough, they will protect against the Imperius, too.

And Regulus has no doubt that his grandfather would make sure the charms are strong enough.

Violet looks over his shoulder. “Oh, that’s really pretty.” 

Regulus pulls the smaller ring out of the box and offers it with a flourish. “I believe this one is meant for you.”

“Your grandfather doesn’t do things by halves, does he?” Violet asks admiringly.

Regulus laughs. “I believe that our grandfather would do everything to protect us, and that extends to the people who also care for us.”

Violet puts the ring on, and it fits like a charm. “It’s beautiful. I’ll be sure to write him a thank you note.”

“You can include it with mine,” Regulus replies. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

Elias says, “Let me see.”

Violet holds out her hand, and soon everyone around the table is admiring the ring, and the fact that it came from Lord Black. Every single pureblood recognizes the gesture for what it is, an honorable first gesture that announces their relationship, and that it’s serious, but not serious enough for a marriage contract. As long as he and Violet are wearing the rings, no one will make any overtures toward either of them.

And everyone will know that Violet is under his grandfather’s protection; they won’t know about his grandfather’s illness.

Violet grabs his hand under the table and squeezes, and Regulus smiles. His grandfather’s gift couldn’t come at a better time.

~~~~~

Arcturus doesn’t enjoy leaving the Manor these days, but he thinks it’s for the best under the circumstances. He uses his most ornate cane, the one that looks more like an affectation than a support. He doesn’t require it—not yet, anyway—but he’s a little unsteady, and he’d prefer to have it and not need it than to fall on his face.

He’s still more than capable of apparition, although he does ask Cody to come with him while disillusioned to make sure he remains on his feet. He needs to keep up appearances for as long as possible.

Mr. Miller is waiting for him at the cafe they’d chosen for their meeting, in a small wizard enclave just outside of London.

The cafe owner sees him and moves quickly. “Lord Black, what a pleasure! So nice of you to visit our establishment. Mr. Miller said you would be joining us.”

Behind the proprietor’s back, Arcturus can see a man who looks a lot like Violet make an apologetic face. “Thank you for your welcome,” Arcturus says warmly. “We would appreciate privacy for this conversation.”

“I’ll bring a pot of tea and some nibbles to your table,” he replies. “And you can set up whatever privacy charms you like.”

“Thank you,” Arcturus replies. He takes a seat across from Mr. Miller, Violet’s father. His dark hair is mostly silver, as is his goatee. His hair is short and his beard neat. He’s wearing a suit under his robes, dark and conservatively cut, with a dark tie.

Miller offers a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Black. You’re looking well.”

Arcturus knows that’s just a carefully constructed facade, but he has no interest in taking Miller into his confidence until their families are far more closely united. “Thank you. I have to say, your daughter favors you.”

“She’s a chip off the old block,” Miller admits with a smile. His handshake is firm but not overbearing, and relatively brief. “Although she has her mother’s spirit. She told me what you sent to your grandson.”

Arcturus smiles. “I thought it would be proper. Regulus seems quite fond of her.”

“To be honest, when I heard that Violet had been invited to Black Manor, I had hoped that it was at the behest of your older grandson,” Miller says frankly. “I’m sure you probably did your research, but Violet’s bloodline isn’t as pure as some would like.”

“Your wife’s grandmother was Muggle-born,” Arcturus says. “And she was incredibly smart and talented, leaving a strong legacy.”

Milles smiles. “My wife takes after her. She sorted into Gryffindor. I’d heard that Regulus was interested in following Voldemort. Please don’t be offended—I’m not opposed to the match, but I’d like to understand.”

Arcturus steeples his hands in front of his face. “Yes, well. I made Regulus swear an Unbreakable Vow not to take the Mark. My grandson is a smart lad and realized that it would be better to make the vow than lose his place in the family.”

“Well, that does make me feel better,” Miller admits. “I had wondered. I know there are some marriages that might make that sort of mixed loyalties work, but I think it would be difficult.”

“The House of Black has always prized purebloods, that’s no secret,” Arcturus says. “But the Dark Mark leaves a stain on your magic that cannot be washed away, not even by time. I didn’t want that for my grandson.”

“Fair enough,” Miller agrees. “Violet knows that she has a Muggle-born grandmother, and it’s so hard to know what they think is pure. It seems to change on a daily basis, almost.”

“Madmen do not adhere to logical rules,” Arcturus says. “But the rings I sent my grandson will protect both of them against any sort of love potion, as well as any other mind-altering spell, including the Imperius, at least as long as they’re wearing them.”

Miller’s smile is relieved. “It’s a gift beyond measure.”

Arcturus leads back in his chair. “Do you really think so, Mr. Miller? Whether or not the children ever express interest in a marriage contract, Violet is clearly important to Regulus. She’s a friend. If something were to happen to her, he would be devastated, and would likely do something ill-advised. In keeping her safe, I keep him safe.”

Miller chuckles, a dry, dusty sound, as though it doesn’t get much use. “I was in Slytherin, too, you know. But I’m married to a Gryffindor.”

“Then you might understand my pain in trying to parent two boys from those houses as best as I can,” Arcturus replies. “I cannot do as much as I would like, but I will do what I can.”

Miller nods. “Knowing that we’re not there quite yet, I suppose we should talk about dowry.”

Arcturus actually rolls his eyes at that. “Please. The House of Black is not about to accept a dowry if the match is made out of love—or at least mutual affection. We have enough money to support any number of family members. Although I would hope that both of my heirs decide to have enough children to field a Quidditch team. Our numbers are dwindling.”

“All the more reason to bring in fresh blood, right?” Miller asks. “Thank you for your understanding.”

“My grandsons are both good boys, with good heads on their shoulders, when they choose to use them,” Arcturus says. “Forming a partnership with your daughter is one of the smarter things that Regulus has done. I hope it blossoms beyond that.”

“As do I,” Miller replies. “I think our family could be an asset to the House of Black.”

“Based on what I’ve seen of your daughter, I would believe it,” Arcturus replies.

Miller hesitates, and then says, “There’s something my daughter mentioned to me over the summer. It hasn’t gone any further; we haven’t even said anything to my wife. But she came away with the feeling that you were—perhaps not doing very well.”

“I will admit that I waited too long to take more of an interest in my grandsons,” Arcturus finally says after a long pause. “I believed that they would be better off with my son and his wife, and I knew they were receiving an adequate education at Hogwarts. But I’m glad that I’ve stuck my nose in, as it were. They’re both good boys, but their parents have a rigid worldview. It may surprise some to know this, but I’m a tad more flexible.”

Arcturus is reminded of Andromeda, who has already been disinherited, and while he has a moment of regret about that—he admires her willfulness in a way—she had sunk an advantageous marriage to elope with some Muggle-born.

He might rethink it eventually, but he has enough going on at the moment that it’s on the back burner for now. He has to get the boys through Hogwarts and the war alive first.

Miller chuckles. “Your record in the Wizengamot is interesting, Lord Black. I did a bit of research, and you were consistently neutral. You supported pureblood laws and politics, but you consistently voted against laws that would restrict creature rights.”

“I also chose not to vote for laws that would deliberately restrict Muggles and half-bloods,” Arcturus points out. “Because I have nothing against them. I simply do not want them to dilute our culture and traditions.”

“And would you allow one of your grandsons to marry a Muggle or a Muggle-born?” Miller asks archly, and he obviously knows that Arcturus had disowned one of his grandchildren for doing just that.

Arcturus hitches a shoulder. “I would take it on a case-by-case basis. If you’re referring to my granddaughter, she married her husband against her family’s wishes. A Muggle-born would find it difficult to integrate into the Black family, though, so I would likely oppose the match.”

“And a Muggle?” Miller asks.

“Even more difficult,” Arcturus replies. “I want the best for my grandchildren, and I have been around long enough to know what’s best.”

Arcturus is aware that his grandchildren would probably take exception to that, but he’s confident of his own experience and decision-making.

“We all want what’s best for our children, and their children,” Miller replies. “And I appreciate what you’ve done for my daughter. I know she’s a target.”

“So are my grandsons,” Arcturus replies. “And I will do whatever I can to protect them, and that includes your daughter.”

Miller smiles. “Thank you. I have to admit that does make me feel better.”

Arcturus would go to great lengths to protect his legacy.

~~~~~

The map helps them get out of the castle without being spotted. Granted, they wouldn’t have to go there at all if they were willing to tell Dumbledore about the charm, but Moony promised his parents, and none of them mind leaving the castle for the night, since they have permission.

Snape seems to have different priorities these days, though, probably too busy being a Death Eater. Or maybe he’s just tired of the game, trying to catch them out.

Now that they have their animagus forms, either Sirius or Peter will press the knot to freeze the Whomping Willow. Then they take the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, and sprawl out on the sleeping bags they’ve managed to accumulate.

They have snacks, too, and there’s a chess set and Gobstones, and other things they can do while Moony is supposedly indisposed.

“Still haven’t changed your mind about telling Dumbledore about the charm?” James asks.

Remus opens a box with a chocolate frog and grabs it before it can hop away, biting into it with relish. “No, still haven’t,” Remus confirms. “Besides, I like coming here. It’s nice getting away from the castle for a bit, away from Death Eaters and talk about the war.”

He’s right about that, Sirius thinks. Here, they’re still kids at school, not future soldiers facing a war.

It’s stolen time. Sirius understands that.

“Are you going to join the Order?” Peter asks.

Remus is quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. It would depend on what they asked me to do, I suppose.”

“Do you think Dumbledore would ask you to do something you wouldn’t want to do?” James asks incredulously.

Remus shrugs. “i don’t know. It’s a war, James. I think it’s a given that we’ll be asked to do things we don’t want to do.”

“What’s going to be your overture to Lily?” Sirius asks in a bid to change the subject. “Because you couldn’t go wrong with copying my grandfather.”

James shoots him a sour look. “Come on, Pads. Your brother already had a leg up on me. Violet had already agreed to date him, and you know it.”

“So? Maybe you should ask her again,” Sirius suggests. “We all know that Snivellus took the Dark Mark. She might be a little more receptive to your overtures. We’ve been very circumspect this year.”

“Why have we been avoiding pranks?” Peter asks.

“Because we’re in our last two years of school, and we’re facing a war,” Remus replies. “And James is intent on wooing Lily, and Sirius doesn’t want to disappoint his grandfather.”

Sirius has to admit that’s a big part of it for him. “If James plays his cards right, he’ll probably be Head Boy next year, and Lily’s sure to be Head Girl. That might do it.”

James rolls his eyes. “There’s no way I’m going to be the Head Boy. I’m not even a prefect.”

“Because you were too busy pulling pranks, and didn’t spend enough time sucking up to the professors,” Sirius points out. “This year could change that, and change Lily’s opinion of you. Face it, James, once we leave school, your chances for wooing her will dry up, unless you start stalking her. You have to seize the day.”

James groans. “Yes, fine! I get it. Strike while the iron is hot.”

Peter grimaces. “Laura Sallow still won’t give me the time of day.”

Sirius looks at him. “Have you tried giving her a gift? Maybe you could get her some sweets at Honeydukes after the next Hogsmeade weekend?”

“I tried that!” Peter says with a groan. “She says she doesn’t like sweets.”

“Books?” Remus suggests gamely. “Or maybe something similar?”

Peter shakes his head. “I think I’m doomed never to find love.”

“You should try a note,” Remus argues. “Tell her what you like about her. Focus on something other than the physical. That might help. What did you tell her before?”

Peter flushes. “I just said she was really pretty.”

Sirius groans. “Peter, please tell me that you weren’t staring at her tits when you said that.”

“I don’t think I was?” Peter says, his inflection indicating that he either isn’t sure, or that he definitely was.

“Then I think you might be done,” Sirius replies. “Because if you were staring at her tits when you said that, she’s never going to agree to a date.”

Peter groans theatrically. “How does anyone ever do this?”

“Good question, since none of us have ever managed it,” Remus mutters, but he’s smiling.

Sirius stands and stretches. “I think I might do a round, scare some folks off. Maybe I’ll howl at the moon for good measure.”

“Wouldn’t want Dumbledore or anyone else to get too suspicious,” Remus agrees. “Be careful.”

Sirius grins and transforms, then puts back his head and howls, making it sound as eerie as he can.

People will wonder, but that’s the point, isn’t it?

And if Sirius goes roaming and people see a Grimm, that will cement the legend well enough.

Also, there’s just a part of him that wants to howl at the moon tonight.

He howls, and he roams Hogsmeade, and he sees people’s curtains twitch as they try to get a glimpse of him, and then retreat when they do.

Sirius doesn’t think his form is really a Grimm, but it certainly bears resemblance to one. And the people who see him loping around Hogsmeade are going to question ever going to the Shrieking Shack, or even coming anywhere near him.

Just because he can, he sits and howls again, deep and throaty, the scariest sound he can muster.

A man emerges from one of the buildings and says, “What are you doing, haunting Hogsmeade? Trying to scare someone?”

Sirius sits and cocks his head, and just stares at the man.

“You’re one of Dumbledore’s, aren’t you?” the man says. “I know his fingerprints, and they’re all over you, boy.”

Sirius makes a chuffing sound, not wanting to admit to it.

“I take it your friend has found alternate methods for controlling his transformation, and you’re trying to make sure everyone still knows that place is the most haunted location in Britain. If so, you’re doing a good job. No one’s going to trespass on a place where they know a Grimm is.”

Sirius takes a chance and transforms back, because the man knows far too much. “Who are you?”

“Aberforth Dumbledore,” the man says. “And by the look of you, you’d have to be a Black.”

“Sirius Black,” he admits. “You know me?”

“I pay attention to some things, and your grandfather is a force to be reckoned with. I would guess he might have been one of the few who could oppose my brother successfully in his heyday.”

Sirius swallows. “Would he have needed to?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to, boy, not without a purpose,” Aberforth replies.

Sirius takes a moment to think. “Do you trust the Headmaster?”

“I trust him to do what he thinks is best for the greater good, and you should too,” Aberforth replies. “Trust yourself when it comes to surviving, lad.”

Sirius nods. “Thanks. I think.”

“Your grandfather will want you to live,” Aberforth replies. “He might not always have your best interests at heart, but he will always care about your survival.”

Whereas Dumbledore won’t, is the message that’s clearly communicated. Sirius can’t help but think that the Dumbledore brothers have to be at odds, although he’s not sure why.

“What have you got against Dumbledore?” Sirius asks.

Aberforth gives him a look. “That’s private, family business. Just remember that Albus has his own agenda.”

Sirius nods, and then transforms back into his dog form, and then lopes back to the Shack.

James raises his head sleepily, but Peter and Remus seem to still be sleeping. “Did you get what you wanted?”

Sirius transforms back and sprawls on the sleeping bag spread out next to James. “I ran into Aberforth Dumbledore.”

James raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“And he warned me that Dumbledore has his own agenda, and not to trust him,” Sirius adds. “It was weird.”

“Maybe they just don’t get along,” James suggests.

“Maybe,” Sirius agrees. He doesn’t think that it’s just brotherly fighting, though. Aberforth doesn’t owe him anything, and wouldn’t have needed to warn him. It’s not as though the warning would harm the Headmaster in some way.

It’s just more food for thought, and another reminder that Sirius needs to be sure to think for himself, and not be led around by the nose.

Not by anyone.

~~~~~

Halfway through the term, it seems like his and Violet’s plan is working. Their relationship means that everyone expects them to spend all their time together, and Elias, Byron and Myra spend as much time with them as possible.

They’ve added a couple of others from Slytherin to their group, at least on occasion. Gareth Greengrass is a blood purist, but is apparently not interested in joining the Death Eaters’ ranks. Melody Fernsby is from a traditionally gray family without a lot of political connections, but who’s near the top of their class. Regulus assumes that she’ll end up staying neutral, if she doesn’t get hit with the Imperius.

And then, just past Halloween, Regulus finds himself alone with Violet in the hallway as they’re heading to Transfiguration. It’s one of the first times the two of them have actually been alone, rather than with at least one or two friends.

Regulus feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up as they approach an intersection. He reaches for his wand as he pushes Violet behind him, avoiding the curse coming from behind.

Violet ducks his hold to send a hex in that direction, responding just as quickly as Regulus had. Regulus recognizes four Death Eaters, including Snape. The curses are all non-lethal, and not set to maim, Regulus realizes when he throws up a shielding spell to give him a second to catch his breath. But all of the spells will cause a lot of pain or discomfort.

“I think they aim to teach us a lesson, darling,” Regulus drawls.

“Hmm…I think we already knew they were a bunch of cowardly toe-rags,” Violet replies with a grin.

Regulus chuckles. “Indeed, we did.” 

He’s had weeks of dueling lessons, and as the person defending himself and another, he doesn’t have to worry about getting expelled. He sends a particularly vicious cutting hex at Snape, and follows it up with a reducto for Nott. The reducto hits a wall, causing damage to the masonry, and enough noise that Regulus expects a professor to appear at any moment.

But there are no professors, and every skill Regulus has at dueling is being put to the test.

Suddenly, two of the Death Eaters get hit with silent curses that knock them on their arses, and one of Violet’s cutting curses hits Snape on the wand arm, causing him to drop it. The fourth and final Death Eater goes down with another cutting hex from Regulus, and the four of them get up and run away, probably not wanting to get in trouble.

Regulus is breathing hard as he looks at Violet. “Are you all right?”

“Right as rain,” she says. “You were magnificent.”

“He really was,” Sirius says, dispelling the disillusionment charm he’d apparently been under. “Well done, little brother.”

Regulus raises his eyebrows. “And how is it that you’ve come riding to my rescue once again?”

Sirius shrugs. “We were on our way to Potions when we saw Snape going the opposite direction and acting stealthy. Sorry if we stepped on your toes.”

Violet shakes her head. “You didn’t. They were aiming to hurt us, while avoiding anything that might get themselves expelled.”

“And with four against two, they would have worn us down eventually,” Regulus admits. “I certainly don’t mind you turning up when you did.”

Sirius smiles crookedly, and glances at Violet. “Welcome to the family, assuming my brother doesn’t run you off.”

“I don’t think you need to be concerned about that,” Violet replies primly, with a sparkle in her dark eyes.

“We’re going to be late for class,” Pettigrew frets. “We’re already late.”

“Slughorn loves Sirius,” James replies, clapping Sirius on the shoulder. “But we really should get going.”

Sirius and his friends head towards Potions in the dungeon, and Regulus and Violet head to the Transfiguration classroom. McGonagall gives them both a very disapproving look when they enter a few seconds late. Then her eyes narrow, and Regulus suspects that she sees their disheveled state.

“Take your seats,” she orders. “We’ll talk after class.”

They’ve been sitting next to each other in every class they can, and Transfiguration is one of them. That day, they’re working on the theory behind changing a non-living object to a living one. 

“Once you understand the theory, you’ll understand how to change any object into something of your choosing,” McGonagall says. “So, pay attention.”

He and Violet at least acquit themselves well, but not well enough to earn any points for Slytherin—or maybe McGonagall is still holding their tardiness against them. At least she hadn’t deducted any points over it.

When class is over, they both reluctantly stay behind, and McGonagall puts her hands on her hips. “Would you two like to explain why you were late?”

Regulus glances at Violet and shrugs, indicating that he’ll follow her lead.

“We were attacked in the hallway on our way to class, and we defended ourselves,” Violet declares. “We were quite lucky that Regulus’ brother and his friends stopped to help.”

McGonagall glowers. “Do you know who attacked you?”

“You know we can’t tell you that,” Violet replies. “We’re already under threat. Telling you who it was will only make things worse.”

McGonagall frowns. “It won’t matter if they’re expelled.”

“They didn’t cast anything like an Unforgivable,” Regulus says. “They wanted to hurt us, not kill us, and it would be better if we didn’t name them.”

She sighs. “I understand that, but that means they won’t stop.”

“They’re never going to stop,” Violet replies. “Not until we join them.”

“Be careful,” McGonagall says. “But I’m glad to hear that you and your brother are getting along better, Mr. Black.”

Regulus hesitates, and then he says, “I think Grandfather deserves most of the credit for that.”

“Your grandfather was always a formidable figure,” McGonagall says. “I knew him once upon a time.” She waves at them. “Go on. I know you have another class.”

Violet reaches for his hand as they leave the classroom. “What are you thinking?”

“I know what I’m thinking,” Elias says as he falls into step next to them. “I’m thinking strength in numbers is even more important.”

Regulus glances at him. “We’re fine. How did you know?”

“Your picture is in the dictionary next to impeccable,” Elias replies. “You weren’t impeccable when you got to class. Ergo, something happened.”

Violet sighs. “Yes, well, we probably wouldn’t have been in great shape if his brother hadn’t shown up.”

“I’m beginning to think that your brother has some sort of savior complex,” Elias comments. “Or a sixth sense for when you’re in trouble, maybe both.”

Regulus shrugs. “If they tried once, you know that they’re going to attempt it again.”

“I do know that, because I’m not an idiot,” Elias replies. “And if they go after you, they’ll go after any of us. Also a reason to be more careful about sticking together. I’m beginning to think that your brother might actually be decent, even if he is a Gryffindor.”

Violet rolls her eyes. “He’s very decent, as are his friends. I’m beginning to think there’s just something about the Blacks. Lord Black is quite formidable.”

“Well, forgive me for having some prejudices towards those self-righteous lions,” Elias mutters. “Maybe we should set up a buddy system with people from other Houses.”

“I don’t think that’s going to stop them, not now,” Regulus says.

Elias grimaces. “Probably not, but we can at least make it really hard for them.”

~~~~~

The run up to Christmas sees a spike of activity from the resident Death Eaters, and Sirius is incredibly grateful for the map. He can keep an eye on them, as well as his brother, while staying out of sight. But they’re not just going after Slytherins who refuse to join Voldemort, but anyone in the school they view as a blood traitor, or someone who might fight for the Light.

It’s harassment more than anything else, though. They’re not trying to kill anyone, just to send a message. Sirius assumes that they don’t want to be expelled, since that will reduce their usefulness to Voldemort.

It’s a reminder that no matter what Dumbledore says, Hogwarts isn’t entirely safe, and there will soon come a time when there’s no escaping the war.

Sirius tucks the map away after making sure the coast is clear to the Great Hall. “Where’s James?” Peter asks. “I didn’t see him in the common room.”

“He’s already in the Great Hall, trying to make an overture toward Lily,” Sirius replies. “I told him we’d wait a bit before joining them to give him a chance to ask her to the next Hogsmeade weekend.”

“Is he going to fall flat on his face again?” Remus jokes.

Sirius shrugs. “I don’t know, but James is giving her a run for her money as to who’s going to be top of the class this year. Lily seems like the kind of girl who would value that.”

They head for the Great Hall, and Sirius keeps his wand loose in its holster. He’s getting to be known as a vicious dueler, and he wants to maintain that reputation. It means it’s less likely that they’ll attack him, or his brother.

James is sitting next to Lily when they enter the Great Hall, closer than is strictly necessary, and Sirius grins. “Looks like he’s made some headway.”

“Don’t tease them too much, Sirius,” Remus says. “You don’t want to scare her off, not this early in the game.”

“Would I do that to him?” Sirius asks. “His happiness is important to me.”

Sirius sits down next to James and nudges him with his elbow with a raised eyebrow. James gives him a pointed look in return, and Sirius asks Lily, “What are your plans for the holidays?”

“I’ll go home to see my parents,” Lily replies, flashing an uncertain smile. “It’s never entirely comfortable, since my sister hates all things magical. What about you?”

“I’ll visit my grandfather,” Sirius replies. “Last Christmas was really good with him and my brother.”

Lily’s smile turns a little wistful. “I wish I could reconnect with Petunia, but I don’t think that’s very likely.”

“I didn’t think it was likely that I would reconnect with Reg, and here we are,” Sirius replies.

“What about you?” Lily asks Remus. “Will you be going home, too?”

“We all are,” Remus replies.

The rest of dinner passes pleasantly enough with Lily participating in their conversation, and then they head for the library to study together. That evening establishes a pattern, where Lily starts eating some meals with them, and studying with them in the library.

The next Hogsmeade weekend is the first one where the four of them don’t go together, and Sirius tries not to let that irritate him. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” James asks, wrapping his red and gold scarf around his neck, and then shrugging into his coat. “I know we always go together.”

Sirius shrugs. “I’m glad Lily is finally giving you the time of day. I know how much you like her.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend time with you, too,” James says. “It’s just—“

Sirius rolls his eyes. “James, go. Have a good time. I’ll be with Moony and Wormtail.”

“Pads—“

“Prongs.” Sirius waves him out. “Go. I’ll see you later.”

James leaves, and Remus gives him a sharp look. “You don’t strike me as someone who would get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Sirius protests. “There’s no one I’m interested in that way, and even if there were, I probably wouldn’t pursue it, not when we have the war looming.”

“So, you’re not jealous of James,” Remus says. 

Sirius shrugs. “Things are changing, Moony. That’s all. I’m sure we’ll all be fine.”

They get lunch at Hogwarts, and then head down to Hogsmeade. The day is bright and cold, the wind cutting. Peter hunches into his coat, tugging his hat a little lower on his head. “I don’t even know why we’re going, not when James is on a date with Lily.”

“We’re going because getting out of the castle is good for us, and this is the last Hogsmeade weekend before the holiday,” Remus points out reasonably. “We have to buy Christmas presents. What are you getting your grandfather?”

“Probably more sweets,” Sirius replies. “He seems to like them, and he was happy with them last year. What are you getting for your parents?”

Remus shrugs. “No idea, but probably books. Both mum and dad like to read. Peter?”

Peter grimaces. “I have no idea. My parents are impossible to buy for.”

“Well, you could always buy them some nice paper,” Remus suggests. “They’ll use it, anyway.”

“True,” Peter replies, brightening.

The group feels off without James’ presence, slightly unbalanced. Sirius has always been closest to James of his three friends, and to be without him feels strange and somehow wrong.

Peter doesn’t seem to notice, but Remus throws him the occasional worried look as they shop for sweets in Honeydukes, wander around Zonko’s, and then visit the bookshop and the paper goods store. They all buy presents and various things for themselves, and then they run into James and Lily on the way to the Three Broomsticks, wanting to grab a butter beer before heading back to the castle.

James and Lily are holding hands, and Sirius smirks at them. “Do you two care to join us?” he asks.

James glances at Lily, who smiles. “I don’t mind.”

“That sounds great,” James replies.

They find a table and drink their butter beers, discussing classes and the upcoming holidays. No one mentions the war or the Death Eaters or Voldemort.

Sirius is looking forward to visiting his grandfather, if only because he knows he’ll be safe, and his brother will be safe, too. Two whole weeks without having to worry about getting cursed in the back for a change.

They’re all in high spirits as they leave the village to go back to the school, the wind cutting through their coats easily. They’re hurrying to get back to the castle so they can warm up and get dinner.

A curse narrowly misses Sirius and hits a tree, while another hits Peter squarely in the back. Sirius pulls his wand and ducks, looking around for their attackers.

“Peter! Are you okay?” James calls as Peter tries to stand.

Peter grunts. “I think so.”

“Stay down,” Lily advises. “Don’t make yourself a target again.” She has her wand out as well, and they all move so that their backs are to each other, and they’re protecting Peter, who seems to be having a hard time standing.

“Come on out, you cowards!” Sirius calls. “Face us.”

Another curse comes their way, and Remus throws up a shielding spell, while Sirius sends a reducto that direction. “Bloody hell,” Sirius says. “Can anyone see them?”

“I don’t see anyone,” James replies grimly.

Sirius sends the strongest, widest stunner that he can in the direction the curse came from, and he hears a couple of thumps. There’s rustling in the underbrush, and no more spells are sent their way.

“Moony, Lily, look after Peter,” James orders. “Pads, let’s go see what we’re dealing with.”

They both keep their wands out, and find some tracks in the snow, and some broken branches, but little else. “If they were seventh years, they could have apparated away,” James says. “What do you think?”

“I think they were pretty cowardly, trying to ambush us like that,” Sirius replies. “And they’re probably going to keep attacking us.”

James nods. “Come on, let’s go check on Peter. Do you think we should tell Dumbledore?”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “I think that will depend on whether we need to take Wormtail to the infirmary.”

Lily and Remus have managed to get Peter to his feet, and James looks Peter over. “You all right there, Peter?”

“I think it was just a stupid jelly-legs jinx,” Peter replies, still sounding shaky. “What was that? What did they want?”

“Whatever it was, they didn’t stick around to find out,” Sirius replies. “Which means they’ll probably try again.”

Lily frowns. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” James admits. “Maybe we should tell the Headmaster what happened.”

“Tell him what?” Sirius asks. “We don’t know who it was, or what they wanted.”

Remus nods slowly. “Padfoot is right. We can’t tell the Headmaster anything, because we don’t know anything.”

“I’ll talk to my grandfather,” Sirius adds. “Maybe he’ll have a suggestion.”

James nods. “You do that. Let’s get back, and not give them another chance at us.”

They hurry up to the castle, keeping their wands out, listening for any sounds that might indicate that they’re about to be attacked.

When they make it back to the school without incident, they break apart. Sirius is chilled right through to the bone, and they all take hot showers, trying to warm up and wash off the events of the day.

They’re all quiet, but Sirius recognizes James and Remus’ silence as thoughtful. Peter, on the other hand, seems more troubled.

Sirius figures that taking a curse in the back would probably upset anyone.

When they’ve dressed and are heading down to dinner, Sirius claps Peter on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Wormtail. We’ll watch your back.”

Peter’s smile is a little shaky, but it’s there. “Thanks. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help today.”

“You did fine,” James says, and throws an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “But maybe we should brush up on our defense work. Figure out some more hexes we can send their way.”

The smile drops off Peter’s face. “Do you think it will happen again?”

“We didn’t present an easy target today,” Sirius reassures him. “They know what we can do now. They may leave us alone.”

Sirius doesn’t believe that, but he wants to make Peter feel better. There are only a couple of weeks until the holiday break, and Sirius wants to talk to his brother. Maybe Regulus will have heard or seen something that would help them pinpoint their attackers.

~~~~~

Regulus catches the significant look that Sirius sends his way, and he marvels at the way they’ve developed a shorthand after ignoring each other for so long. The coin vibrates in his pocket, and that means that Sirius wants to meet him in the Room of Requirement after dinner.

Regulus hitches a shoulder, indicating his assent. 

Violet leans in close to him under the guise of nibbling on his ear. “What was that?”

“That was my brother asking for a meeting,” Regulus whispers. “Did anyone else catch it?”

“I don’t think so,” Violet replies. “But you’ll need to be careful. There are more than a few people at the table who are watching him and his friends.”

Regulus glances around, taking note of those sending particularly venomous looks towards the Gryffindor table, but that’s more than half of those present, especially among the upper classes. “Almost everyone is looking at them.”

“I know, which is why you two need to be careful,” Violet points out. “We’re already watching our backs. We don’t need to make it more dangerous for ourselves.”

Regulus nods. “I’ll speak to my grandfather about it. He might have a suggestion.”

They get through dinner, and Regulus makes certain that Violet is with their friends before he sneaks off to the Room of Requirement. He’s a little surprised when James appears after throwing off his cloak. “We’ll be outside,” James says. “And we’ll make sure you get to the library safely.”

Regulus’ eyebrows go up. “Did you follow me from the Great Hall?”

“I made sure you weren’t followed,” James replies. “Your brother wants to be sure that you stay safe.”

“Thanks,” Regulus replies, unable to come up with another response.

He enters the room and finds it much the same as it usually is when he meets Sirius there—roaring fireplace, two overstuffed chairs, and walls of books.

Sirius is staring at the fire, looking moody.

“What happened?” Regulus asks quietly.

“We were attacked on our way back from Hogsmeade,” Sirius replies. “I don’t know who it was. I’m pretty sure they apparated away.”

“I don’t know anything about it,” Regulus says quickly. “And even if I were still in their good graces, they probably wouldn’t tell me, unless they set it up as a test.”

Some of the old mischief sparks in his eyes. “And would you pass the test?”

“Of course not,” Regulus says impatiently. “Also, Violet thinks we’re being watched, and we should be more careful. I told her we’d speak to Grandfather about it.”

Sirius grunts. “She’s probably right about that. I’m sure Grandfather will have a reasonable solution.”

“If I do hear something, though, I’ll let you know,” Regulus replies. “No one was missing from dinner tonight at least.”

Sirius shakes his head. “The most I probably hit them with was a stunner, and a quick renervate will take care of that.”

Regulus feels a sense of mounting despair. “What are we going to do, Sirius? This war—“

“This war will end eventually, Reg,” Sirius says, his tone almost gentle. “And you’ll be well out of it. You can finish up at Hogwarts and take refuge with Grandfather so that there’s at least one Black still standing at the end of this.”

Regulus frowns at him. “I don’t want to be the only Black still standing at the end of this! You’re the heir.”

“And you’re quite capable of taking on that role,” Sirius replies. “I’m a bloody Gryffindor, remember?”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Regulus mutters. “I wish you would just—take your NEWTs and go stay at Black Manor. It’s unplottable, fortified, you’d be safe there.”

“And a lot of other people won’t be,” Sirius replies, and he turns to face Regulus head on, and then he actually drops out of his seat so he can kneel on the floor next to him, putting a hand on Regulus’ knee. “I hope you can understand that.”

Regulus swallows hard. “I can try.”

“That’s all I ask,” Sirius replies, patting Regulus’ knee. “We’ll be home soon, and we can mostly forget about this for a while.”

Regulus lets out a breath. “Yes, we can.”

“I should get going,” Sirius says. “I’ll see you later.”

“Be careful,” Regulus calls after him.

Once Sirius is gone, Regulus leans back in his chair and wishes that it were the holidays already, and that they were safe inside Black Manor.

The next couple of weeks pass by too slowly in Regulus’ estimation. As he indicated to Sirius, there’s no way that his housemates would tell Regulus what they’re up to, or that they’re targeting Sirius. Their estrangement is more for Regulus’ protection than his brother’s.

Violet and their friends try to offer a distraction from Regulus’ worries, but it’s no use. Things inside Hogwarts are getting worse, and he’s certain that it’s going to get worse yet before it gets better. If it ever does.

When examinations are over, and Regulus is back on the train and out of his school robes, he relaxes minutely. He does spare a thought for Kreacher, and wonders if his grandfather would allow him to check on the house elf.

The train pulls into Kings Cross station, and Regulus sees the same man—his grandfather’s solicitor—waiting for them.

Sirius shoulders past Regulus, although he winks at him, too, to show that he’s not really upset, and there are no hard feelings. “This way, boys,” the man says, s leading them to the apparition point outside the station.

He side-alongs the both of them to right outside the gates of Black Manor, and then they’re left to walk up the long drive by themselves.

“Why do you think he always brings us just outside the gates?” Regulus asks as they trudge along.

Sirius shrugs. “Probably because Grandfather doesn’t want to adjust the wards to allow anyone inside who isn’t family.”

“Were you attacked again?” Regulus asks. He thinks he would know, but Sirius has been extra careful recently.

Sirius shrugs. “A few hexes in the hallway, but nothing I couldn’t handle. It probably helps that we didn’t have another Hogsmeade weekend.”

“Are you going to avoid them in the future?” Regulus asks.

Sirius shakes his head. “I’m not going to stop living my life, Reg, so probably not. But I’ll be careful.”

“Are you going to at least tell Grandfather what happened?”

“Of course,” Sirius replies easily. “I have to tell him why we need a more secure method of communication, because he’s going to ask, and I doubt that he’s going to take no for an answer.”

Sirius puts an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a rough hug. “Hey, we’ve got a couple of weeks to ignore the war, right? Relax.”

Regulus takes a deep breath in, and then lets it out, his shoulders dropping from around his ears. “You’re right.”

He just wants some time to breathe.

~~~~~

Arcturus watches from the front door as Sirius and Regulus walk up to the house, Sirius’ arm around his brother’s shoulders. That warms his heart to see, and Arcturus swings the door open wide as they approach.

“How was your trip here?” Arcturus asks. “Cordy! Please put the boys’ trunks in their room. Refreshments in the study.”

“Of course, Lord Black,” she squeaks and then pops away.

“Come inside,” Arcturus says. “We’ll retire to the study and have some refreshments. Dinner won’t be for a little while yet, and I’m sure you’re both a little hungry.”

Cordy pops in with cookies and some small sandwiches, and Sirius takes a cookie and nibbles. Regulus does the same with a quick glance at his brother.

“Something you boys want to tell me?” Arcturus asks.

Sirius sighs. “We—my friends and I—were attacked on our way back from Hogsmeade on the last weekend. No one was seriously injured, but we also have no idea who attacked us. They either ran or apparated away before we could identify them.”

Arcturus frowns. “You weren’t hurt?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Peter took a curse to the back, but it was probably just a jelly legs jinx. He walked back to the castle on his own.”

“But we need a way to communicate,” Regulus says. “People are watching us, and we need to be able to talk to each other without anybody knowing.”

It’s a reasonable request, and one that Arcturus has already anticipated. “I think we can take care of that while you boys are here.”

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You already have something.”

“Very perceptive,” Arcturus praises. “Those powers of observation will serve you well. Now, why don’t you tell me how your term progressed.”

He notices that Sirius skirts the issue of Remus’ problem, and he knows it’s because of his brother’s presence. And then Regulus says, “I know, Sirius.”

“What do you know?” Sirius asks.

“I know about Remus being a werewolf,” Regulus says. “And I won’t say anything. I haven’t yet, have I?”

Sirius frowns. “How did you find out?”

“I saw the charm, and I was curious, so I did a little research,” Regulus admits shamelessly. “I wanted to know if it was something I needed to worry about.”

Arcturus has a more pressing question. “Does anyone else know about the charm?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No, Remus’ parents told him not to tell anyone, especially the headmaster.”

“They don’t trust Dumbledore?” Arcturus asks, surprised.

Sirius shrugs. “They said they wanted him to be careful about his secrets, that’s all. The headmaster wanted us to think about joining his order.”

“Are you going to?” Arcturus asks mildly.

“When we’re done with school, maybe,” Sirius replies. “But—I think I need to spend this summer here, Grandfather, learning as much as I can.”

He wouldn’t have been able to ask his parents for that much, Arcturus knows, and Merlin knows that he’d prefer Sirius to stay out of it. Arcturus also knows that’s too much to ask, and he can’t prevent Sirius from joining the effort. Standing by is not the kind of man that Sirius is growing up to be.

“You’ll have whatever you need, my boy,” Arcturus promises. 

Regulus looks mulish. “Why? I don’t see why you’d help him get himself killed.”

“There are innocents being killed, Reg!” Sirius bursts out. “Shouldn’t I at least try to prevent more people from being killed? More people like Remus getting bitten by a werewolf?”

“Yes, and Grandfather could forbid you from getting involved!” Regulus exclaims. “Tell him not to risk himself!”

He knows that he needs to address this before they go much further. “Sirius, if I asked you not to participate in the war, would you do so anyway?”

Sirius shifts. “Yes. I mean, I have to.”

“And if I threatened to disown you?” Arcturus asks.

Sirius appears supremely uncomfortable. “I don’t—I wouldn’t want that, but…”

“But you have to do what you believe is right,” Arcturus says quietly. “Because sometimes doing what you believe is right means that there are consequences.” He turns to look at Regulus. “Do you understand why I would prepare your brother for war?”

“You forced me to agree not to support the Dark Lord!” Regulus protests. “I don’t understand why—“

Sirius rolls his eyes. “It’s not at all the same. Did you really want to torture and kill people, Reg?”

That question hits home, and Regulus subsides. “No,” he admits. “But I wouldn’t have had to.”

“Are you that sure about it?” Sirius asks. “Do you know what Voldemort asks people to do in order to get marked?”

“No,” Regulus admits. “They won’t talk about it to anyone who hasn’t been.”

Arcturus sighs heavily. “Regulus, I asked you not to follow Voldemort because doing so will get you killed. As soon as you took that oath, the predictions from the goblin seers changed. That, and I don’t want anyone in my family marked as a slave to someone else. You’re a Black.”

“What about Dumbledore?” Regulus asks. “He wants Sirius to join his Order.”

“He’s a manipulative old bastard, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to ask Sirius to take a mark that will be a drain on his magic,” Arcturus replies. “There is a difference.”

Regulus pouts a bit at that. “I understand, Grandfather.”

“Good, I’m glad you do,” Arcturus replies. “Just as I trust that Sirius will exercise his best judgment, even when he’s throwing himself headlong into danger.”

Sirius snorts. “I have a lot of good reasons to live, and I have no intention of getting myself killed. That’s why I asked for additional training. I’m going to be as prepared as I can be.”

“And that’s why I’m providing him with training,” Arcturus says. “Because I have no interest in having to disown either of you. You’re two different people.”

Regulus nods. “I’d like to check on my parents’ house elf, Kreacher.”

Sirius grimaces, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Of course,” Arcturus replies. “Kreacher is a Black elf. You can call him here, but I’m going to order him to keep our secrets.”

Sirius pushes himself out of his chair. “If you’re going to call that house elf here, I’m going to wash up for dinner.”

Arcturus nods. “Dinner will be half an hour from now.”

Sirius nods politely enough. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Sirius leaves the room, and Arcturus asks, “Why doesn’t Sirius like Kreacher?”

“Kreacher would tell our parents when he did anything wrong,” Regulus admits slowly. “He and Sirius hate each other.”

Arcturus frowns. “Call Kreacher.”

“Kreacher, I need you,” Regulus says.

The house elf appears, looking overjoyed. “Master Regulus asks for Kreacher! I thought Master Regulus abandoned Kreacher.”

“I didn’t,” Regulus replies with a soft smile. “I’ve just been spending time with my grandfather.”

“Kreacher, look at me,” Arcturus orders. “Do you know who I am?”

Kreacher ducks his head and pulls at his ears. “Lord Black.”

“That’s correct,” Arcturus replies. “Regulus is fond of you, but if you want to see him, you’ll obey my commands, and you’ll keep our secrets. Do you understand?”

Kreacher nods miserably. “I understand.”

“Do you swear?” Arcturus asks implacably. 

“I swear,” Kreacher says. “I swear.”

“Good,” Arcturus says. “Sirius Black is my heir. Do you understand what that means?”

Kreacher tugs at his ears harder.

“Grandfather,” Regulus begins, but Arcturus holds up a hand.

“Do you understand what that means?” Arcturus presses. 

Kreacher nods miserably. “I understand.”

“Do you understand that he’s always been my heir, and he always will be?” Arcturus asks. “And if you betray him, you will betray the House of Black.”

“I won’t,” Kreacher moans.

“Good,” Arcturus says. He looks at Regulus. “You have to be firm, Regulus. If a house elf is willing to betray one member of a house, they cannot be trusted not to betray everyone in the house.”

Regulus nods but doesn’t reply. “I’ll leave the two of you alone then,” Arcturus says.

He appreciates that fact that Regulus has a soft heart where his house elf is concerned, but he’d meant it. A house elf that would act to the detriment of the heir has to be reined in.

Arcturus would make certain of it.

~~~~~

Sirius dresses carefully for dinner, and hopes that Kreacher is gone by the time they eat. He trusts his grandfather to protect him, and he doesn’t think that Kreacher can really hurt him here. Kreacher doesn’t have the power with his grandfather that he held in their parents’ house.

There’s a knock on his door, and Sirius calls, “Come in!”

He’s somehow unsurprised when his grandfather enters. “I’ve had a word with both your brother and Kreacher,” Arcturus says. “Kreacher has been ordered to treat you appropriately as the Black heir, which is what your parents should have done in the first place.”

“My parents have never asked me what I wanted, and they’ve never lifted a finger to protect me,” Sirius replies, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Arcturus takes a seat in the small sitting area of Sirius’ room. “I understand. I must apologize to you for not acting sooner.”

“You didn’t know,” Sirius says, uncomfortable with his grandfather’s frank word and gaze.

“No, but if I had been more involved, I would have known,” Arcturus replies. “I should have insisted. You are my heir.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “I didn’t think Blacks apologized.”

“We don’t,” Arcturus replies. “Unless it’s absolutely necessary and politically expedient.”

“And it was politically expedient to apologize to me?” Sirius asks, almost amused.

“You are my heir, Sirius, and you need to understand what that means, just as everyone else does,” Arcturus replies. “And it would be better for both of us if we’re honest with each other. You needed to know that I would exert some control over Kreacher, and to know that I regret the harm that came to you.”

Sirius swallows hard at that, feeling the emotion rise up to choke him. No one in his family had ever apologized to him, or expressed any regret or care for him. But his grandfather stands and rests a heavy hand on Sirius’ shoulder. 

“Thank you,” Sirius manages to say.

Arcturus pats him on the shoulder. “Dinner will be served shortly. I’ll see you there.”

Sirius nods.

Once his grandfather has left, Sirius scrubs his hands over his face briskly, trying to bring his emotions under control. He has to admit that he understands his brother’s instinct for self-preservation a little bit more now, though.

Sirius composes himself, and then heads down to dinner. Regulus is a little chilly towards him and their grandfather, but he seems back to normal the next day. This Christmas is even better than the last one. His grandfather gives them both communication mirrors so they can speak with their grandfather without needing to use owls, which can be intercepted, as well as to each other, without the Room of Requirement.

The last gift is a dragon hide vest for each of them that will fit under their school uniforms easily. “To protect you both from curses to the back,” Arcturus says. 

“Thank you,” Regulus says, sounding a bit subdued.

“Thank you,” Sirius echoes. “This is great, really. Everything has been great.”

Later that day, their grandfather has excused himself, and he and Regulus wind up back in their usual study.

“I’m going home for the summer,” Regulus suddenly announces. “At least for part of it.”

“You’re allowed,” Sirius replies, knowing that his brother expects disapproval. “They like you.”

Although, granted, their gift to Regulus this year was a new set of dress robes, and Sirius received a book about the Hogwarts founders. It’s a handsome book, leather bound and embossed, but it’s still a book about the Hogwarts founders that he could have picked up from the library.

But it’s at least a start. His parents seem to have accepted that he’s the heir, and that’s more than Sirius has received in the past.

Regulus shrugs. “Kreacher thought I had abandoned him.”

Sirius bites back the first thing that comes to mind, which is that the house elf would deserve a lot more than that. He knows that Regulus has a fondness for the creature, even if he doesn’t. “You do what you have to do, Reg. I’m not going to hold it against you. Just remember what you promised.”

Regulus snorts. “Mum and Dad might be blood purists, but they’d never join the Death Eaters. They have no desire to do anything other than sit inside their house and scare off Muggles.”

Sirius hasn’t seen his parents in a couple of years now, so he wouldn’t presume to say, but Regulus is probably right about that.

“I just think it’s important not to forget where we come from,” Regulus adds.

Sirius doesn’t know what to say to that, since he’d just as soon forget about his parents entirely. If it hadn’t been for his grandfather, Sirius would have run away from home, and wouldn’t have returned.

There are probably some things that he and his brother will never see eye to eye on, a gap between them that their grandfather can bridge, but only here at Black Manor.

“I don’t think I’ll ever go back there,” Sirius replies. “But I know it’s not the same for you.”

Sirius enjoys the rest of his time with his grandfather, but he can see that his illness is starting to weigh on him more heavily. He’s never without his cane, and he frequently excuses himself in the afternoon to nap. Sirius wants to believe that it’s nothing, and just a sign of advancing age, nothing to worry about, but he knows better.

He’s feeling a little melancholy when he heads back to school, hoping that his grandfather’s condition doesn’t deteriorate over the next few months.

“What’s wrong?” James asks as soon as they’re in a compartment. Remus and Peter haven’t shown up yet, and Sirius feels a little more comfortable talking to James about this than he does the other two. 

Sirius sighs. “Grandfather was using his cane a lot more, and he was sleeping every afternoon while we were staying with him.”

“Maybe it’s just his age,” James says. “I mean, my parents like their afternoon naps, too.”

Sirius laughs. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Are you going to spend the summer with him again?” James asks.

“He’s promised to provide training,” Sirius replies. “I’m sure you could join me if you wanted.”

James nods slowly. “Probably not for the entire summer, but maybe a couple of weeks like last summer. Are you going to come visit us? My parents asked about you.”

Sirius is fond of James’ parents, and he says, “Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe right before school starts. I know that Grandfather won’t mind.”

Lily is the next to join them, rapping on the door to the compartment with a shy smile. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

James immediately moves over. “No, of course not.”

Sirius offers her the most welcoming smile he can muster. “How was your Christmas, Lily?”

“It was good,” she replies brightly, now more sure of her welcome, apparently. “How was yours? You were visiting your grandfather, right?”

Sirius nods. “I was. It was good.”

He doesn’t want to talk about the slight awkwardness with his brother, or his grandfather’s illness, or his plans to train for war the following summer. He’s grateful when Remus and Peter join them just before the train pulls out of the station. Remus is a little out of breath, and definitely rumpled, but his cheeks are ruddy with the cold January air, and he looks good.

“We overslept,” Remus admits as he sits down. 

Peter also sits, slouching in his seat. “How was everyone’s holiday?”

The train ride back to Hogwarts has a slightly different dimension with Lily sharing their compartment. While she and James aren’t all over each other, they sit closer than is strictly necessary, and Sirius can see their hands brush often.

He and Remus share an amused look, although Peter appears mostly oblivious, complaining about his parents and how they hadn’t wanted to do anything for Christmas.

Sirius raises his eyebrows. “What would you have wanted to do instead?”

“Almost anything!” Peter replies. “Surely, you went to some parties or something.”

“There was a small gathering,” Sirius replies. “Mostly my grandfather’s close friends from the Wizengamot.”

It had been a repeat from the prior year, although Sirius had already known what to expect, and so hadn’t been as nervous. He’d focused on being polite and in paying attention to what was said—and what wasn’t.

Sirius is learning how to read between the lines, to sense political agendas. It helped to have his grandfather there to whisper in his ear, feeding him bits of information. 

“See?” Peter says in an aggrieved tone. “Even an old man is more interesting than my parents. They didn’t invite anyone.”

Since Peter often complains about his parents and their lack of ambition or interest in the wider world, the rest of them usually tune it out. Privately, Sirius thinks Peter’s parents are afraid to attract the attention of the Death Eaters, and so they hide, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.

It’s not a bad strategy, and having met them, Sirius’ impression had been of timid people who just wanted to live quiet lives and be left alone. It’s hard to do that if the Death Eaters take notice of you.

That night, after the feast and as they’re getting ready for bed, Sirius removes his uniform shirt, which causes James to say, “What are you wearing, Padfoot?”

“That was my Christmas gift from my grandfather,” Sirius replies. “Dragon hide vest that will help protect me from getting cursed in the back, at least somewhat.”

“Better than nothing,” Remus comments. “That’s quite the gift.”

Sirius has no idea how much something like this would cost, but considering that his grandfather had been willing to pay for the charm for Remus, Sirius isn’t surprised that he’d be willing to pay for something that would protect him.

“My grandfather seems to be invested in my future,” Sirius replies. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

“It’s good that he’s taken an interest,” James says. “You deserve that, Pads.”

Sirius can’t tell them about his grandfather’s apology, because it’s too big, and meant too much, but he plans on making his grandfather proud—and on staying alive.

~~~~~

Coming back from Christmas vacation is odd, if only because there are a number of seventh years who fail to return. The whispers that race around the common room indicate that some of those who had been marked chose not to return in order to better serve the Dark Lord. Two students are rumored to have disappeared, though, and no one knows whether they’re alive or dead.

Regulus sits with Violet and Elias, their heads bent close together. “What do you think?” he asks his friends.

“Sam and Diana weren’t Death Eaters,” Elias replies quietly. “But they weren’t really blood traitors, either.”

Regulus blows out a breath. “What do you think happened to them?”

“Who knows?” Violet asks. “Maybe they looked at a Death Eater the wrong way. Or they offended someone at a Yule party.”

Regulus had never heard her be so openly dismissive of the Death Eaters before, but he’s starting to feel the same way. He won’t join them, but he doesn’t want to be targeted for no reason at all when he’s still a blood purist.

It’s disconcerting to think that he could disappear without a trace just because someone takes exception to him.

That thought leads him to thinking about how his grandfather would feel, how Sirius might feel—and how the families of those who have disappeared or died might feel.

Regulus doesn’t want to think about that; he doesn’t want to let his thoughts go towards those who had been hurt or killed. He doesn’t want to think about the wake of destruction, when he’d planned on adding to it.

“Maybe so,” Regulus replies, troubled.

Violet might sense that, because she pats his arm. “There but for the grace of your grandfather, huh?”

Regulus shakes his head tightly. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Elias gives him a look. “Thank your lucky stars, Reg. We just have to make it through the next few years, right?”

Regulus smiles faintly. “My grandfather gave me armor for Christmas, so if we get cursed in the hallway, you might want to hide behind me.”

“Your grandfather is a smart man,” Elias comments. “Because I think you’re probably going to need it.”

The mood in Slytherin is some strange mix of elation and fear, depending on whether someone is marked or not. Those who are marked are obviously excited; those unmarked walk around with their heads down and their shoulders hunched.

Regulus doesn’t, though. He keeps his head up and his shoulders squared. He has his armor, and he has his friends, and his job is getting through the year alive.

He plays Quidditch, and he goes to classes, and he realizes that his feelings for Violet are turning from affection into something deeper.

And then, close to the Easter holidays, Violet comes to breakfast with tears in her eyes, her face splotchy from crying.

“Who is it?” Regulus asks. “What happened?”

Violet grabs for his hand. “My older sister and her husband, and their baby. All of them, Reg.”

Regulus pulls her close, cradling the back of her head with his hand, at a loss for words. He’d always believed that his parents were safe, that he was safe. He hadn’t cared so much about his brother, not really, but this is Violet.

Violet, who is fierce and kind, and who has been so very good to him. Regulus hasn’t felt the Death Eaters’ depredations so close to his own life yet.

And now he has. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Violet replies. “They refused to join, right?”

“But they were blood purists, and they didn’t make waves,” Regulus protests.

Violet shook her head. “No, my sister lives in a regular town, not a wizard enclave. There was a Muggle family that was attacked who lived nearby. They stepped in.”

Regulus’ initial reaction is that they got what they asked for then, but he checks himself, because he knows that’s not the right answer.

It never was. It never was.

“I know it wasn’t my fault, but I’m still sorry,” Regulus says quietly. “They didn’t deserve that, and they never should have been targeted.”

Violet pulls back. “You’re not thinking about doing something stupid, are you?”

Regulus shakes his head. “No. I’m not. At least not for a few years.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” Violet asks. “Promise me, Reg. You promised to stay neutral. There are things we can do without calling attention to ourselves.”

That’s the moment when Regulus decides that while he might remain publicly neutral, he needs to do something in private. He activates the coin that will signal Sirius that he wants a meeting. If nothing else, he wants to tell Sirius what had happened to Violet’s family.

He hasn’t met up with Sirius at all since the start of term, so he knows the signal will probably be a surprise to his brother.

But then again, maybe not. Gossip travels fast at Hogwarts, even between the Houses. There’s every possibility that Sirius will hear about what happened by the time they’re due to meet.

Regulus’ thoughts are racing all day, although he tries to be present for Violet, and as supportive as possible.

After dinner, Regulus checks with Violet to make sure she’ll be all right on her own for a bit, and that question rouses her. “In spite of my name, I’m no shrinking violet, Regulus Black. I’ll be fine.”

Regulus chuckles. “I do know that. But there are extraordinary times, Vi.”

“They are,” she replies soberly. “But I really will be fine. I plan to go to my parents tomorrow morning.”

Regulus isn’t surprised. “Of course. I’ll be in the library in a little bit.”

Sirius is waiting for him in the Room of Requirement, feet stretched out towards the roaring fire.    “I heard already, Reg. You’ll pass the condolences on to Violet, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Regulus replies. “How did you hear?”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “A pureblood couple with no interest in either side of this war, along with their infant child, are annihilated. Because they protected their neighbors.”

Regulus bites back his first response, that they had invited attention by interfering with a Death Eater mission. He knows better than to say as much, though. Sirius wouldn’t find the idea amusing. Best not to give voice to those thoughts at all.

His second response is to say, “I feel as though I need to get involved, Siri.”

“I can understand why you’d feel that way in the moment,” Sirius says carefully. “But I think you’re right to claim neutrality. It’s safer for you that way.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be safer,” Regulus protests. “Not when I could make a difference!”

“Doing what, Reg?” Sirius asks. “You can’t join them, your oath to Grandfather—“

“I could spy on them,” Regulus bursts out. “If I only pretended to join—“

“Reg, no,” Sirius insists. “It’s far too dangerous, and you’d still have to take the mark. They’re not going to give you any information without that on your arm. And then you have a drain on your magic and our family magic.”

Regulus sits back in the chair with a sense of disappointment, knowing that his brother is right, and that their grandfather would absolutely forbid such a thing. “I want to be able to do my part, too. When people like Violet’s sister get killed, it’s gone too far.”

Sirius gives him a narrow-eyed look, but he doesn’t try to pick a fight over Regulus’ choice of words. “Maybe we can figure something out,” he finally says, “but offering to spy on the Death Eaters is right out.”

Regulus scrubs his hands over his face. “Violet is just so hurt.”

“It’s her sister,” Sirius replies. “Just like I’d be hurt if something happened to you. Do you know the consequences you’d face if someone realized you were a spy?”

Regulus figures that a quick curse would be the best he could hope for, and it would be more likely that he’d end up tortured to death. “Nothing good.”

“You’re damn right nothing good,” Sirius replies. 

Regulus grimaces. “I guess I was being rash.”

Sirius snorts. “Rash would have involved you asking one of your Death Eater housemates if you could swear allegiance to Voldemort without talking to me or Grandfather first.”

Regulus has to admit that his brother does have a point. “Violet is going home to her parents tomorrow, to be with them.”

“Makes sense,” Sirius replies. “You might think about sending flowers. Grandfather will want to know, as well.”

Regulus hadn’t thought about that. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Do that tonight,” Sirius advises. “He’ll want to act quickly to express his condolences and make any offers that he thinks ought to be made.”

“What sort of offers?” Regulus asks.

“Protection, probably, if they’re concerned that they might also be targets,” Sirius replies.

Regulus should have known that, but he just isn’t thinking straight. The idea that he could be killed, or that his family could be killed, is becoming real to him in a way it never had before.

“I should have known that,” Regulus mutters. 

“You’re allowed to be off-kilter, Reg,” Sirius says. “Your girlfriend’s sister got killed, and they’re purebloods. It kind of drives home the point, right?”

“Yeah, it does,” Regulus admits. “I didn’t—I didn’t want to think about it.”

“It’s always easier if something is happening to someone else,” Sirius replies. “Or someone else’s friends or family.”

Regulus hates the implication, but he doesn’t argue. “I know.”

“Look, get out of here, go be with your girlfriend, and make sure you contact Grandfather tonight,” Sirius says. “I’m going to leave first so we’re not spotted together. Did you wear your armor?”

“Of course,” Regulus replies. “I don’t leave the Slytherin dungeon without it on, mostly because I know what Grandfather would say if I got cursed in the back and wasn’t wearing it.”

“He wouldn’t have anything good to say about your intelligence, that’s for sure,” Sirius replies. “Good. I’m glad you’re being vigilant. We’re probably mostly safe inside the castle, but be careful on the next Hogsmeade weekend.”

Regulus shakes his head. “If Violet insists on going, I’ll go, but I think it would be prudent not to provide easy targets.”

“Good luck with that, and watch your back,” Sirius replies. “Will I see you at all during the summer?”

Regulus hesitates. “Actually, I think I might spend the first two weeks with Grandfather after all. I think it would be a good idea to have another couple of weeks with that dueling instructor. I imagine you’re going to get other training, too.”

“Whatever training I can,” Sirius replies.

“And how is it that you can go to war, and I can’t?” Regulus complains.

Sirius gives him a patently insincere smile. “Should have been sorted into Gryffindor, or maybe been born first.”

“Get out of here,” Regulus says. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“I’m going to meet you if you need me,” Sirius replies. “Just call whenever, okay?”

“i will,” Regulus promises.

And maybe he feels lucky that he has a brother like Sirius. At least a little bit.

He finds an empty classroom, because he has the communication mirror on his person, and he calls him.

His grandfather picks it up immediately, and as soon as he sees Regulus’ face, he asks, “What’s wrong, my boy?”

“Violet’s sister and her family were killed by Death Eaters,” Regulus blurts out. “I talked to Sirius about it, and he said I should tell you right away.”

Concern creases the lines in his face. “How is Violet?”

“She’s going to be with her parents tomorrow morning,” Sirius replies. “Do you think we should go to the funerals?”

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Arcturus says gently. “It could put us in danger as well.”

Regulus frowns, “But, Grandfather—“

“It’s not a good idea, but it may be the right thing to do,” Arcturus says. “It might make us targets, but that’s not a reason not to go, if you understand the risk.”

“I understand,” Regulus replies. “I really like Violet, Grandfather.”

“That’s becoming quite obvious,” Arcturus replies. “Be careful, Regulus. I’ll make some inquiries, and I’ll be in touch. Go find your friends, and be careful.”

Regulus had known it was a risk, but then he finds himself exiting the classroom with Remus standing guard outside. 

“The coast should be clear,” Remus murmurs. “Keep your wand loose. I’ll be right behind you the whole time.”

Regulus admits that he feels better having someone watching his back, and he thinks he likes Remus the best out of Sirius’ friends.

Sure enough, Remus follows him all the way to the library, and then splits off to sit with his own friends. Regulus sees Remus hand Sirius a piece of paper, and he would bet that it’s the map that he’s seen before.

He slides into the seat next to Violet, and whispers to her, “Let me know about any arrangements. My grandfather and I will attend if possible.”

Violet nods quickly. “It might be dangerous.”

“Grandfather said as much, but I will be there if you need me.” Regulus squeezes her hand.

Violet leans into him briefly with a grateful smile. “I’m sure my parents will be very appreciative of the gesture.”

Regulus isn’t sure whether he’s relieved or upset when he gets an owl from Violet two days later, and she tells him that they’ve opted for a small, private funeral, just her immediate family.

“We don’t want to put anyone else at risk,” Violet writes. “If it’s just us, no one needs to decide whether to risk attending, and I don’t think my parents could bear to see just how few people come out in support.”

Regulus hates that they can’t even hold a public funeral, and allow anyone else to attend who simply wants to pay their respects.

The funeral is in a couple of days, and then Violet plans to return to school the following Sunday night. She reminds Regulus to take good notes for her, and ends with “yours always.”

“How is she?” Elias asks, since Regulus had saved the letter to read in the library after dinner.

“I can’t tell,” Regulus replies. “But the funeral is going to be private, with just immediate family.”

Elias grimaces. “That has to be terrible for them.”

“I think they’re worried about how many people wouldn’t come, reading between the lines of the letter,” Regulus admits. 

“That’s a pile of shit,” Byron hisses. “How dare they think we’re on the firing line? I mean, I get that they interfered in a Death Eater mission, but they were attacking their neighbors! I don’t want to befriend Muggles, but don’t think I’d be okay watching anyone get murdered or tortured.”

“No one should be okay with it,” Myra says. “I mean, what if those Muggles give birth to a Muggle-born who’s the next Merlin?”

“Everyone knows that the best wizards come from pureblood families,” Elias says with disdain.

Myra rolls her eyes. “That’s Slytherin propaganda.”

“Enough,” Regulus says. “People don’t have to be intelligent, or even the next Merlin, to deserve not being tortured or murdered.”

That stops the argument in its tracks, and they all nod. “What are we going to do?” Byron asks. “We have to do something.”

“My brother is training this summer,” Regulus replies. “He’s preparing for war. But we don’t have to join Dumbledore’s side in order to fight back.”

“It’s time to start our own campaign for the neutral parties,” Elias says. “We don’t have to agree on everything, but we do have to agree that we’re not going to let them prey on our own people without repercussion.”

“We need to train, and we need to come up with our own ways to get information,” Regulus says. “Elias and I are in the Slytherin common room all the time. We can come up with passive communication techniques, at least while we’re still at Hogwarts.”

Regulus can’t tell them what Sirius had done—create a map and become an animagus—for Remus. He and his friends could do a lot if they really set their minds to it.

Maybe there is a third road—not darkness, not light, but well-armed neutrality.

Chapter Text

Arcturus hasn’t seen Rockhand in some time. His illness is progressing, but slowly. He needs his cane for balance, and he needs a nap in the afternoon, but he’s confident that no one would be able to tell from his outward appearance.

But he knows that both boys are going to be spending time with him that summer, and Regulus just agreed to come for a couple of weeks, and asked to be included in Sirius’ lessons. The fact that his girlfriend just lost several members of her family means that Regulus is motivated.

To do what, Arcturus doesn’t know, but it’s something. He’s been blowing hot and cold since Christmas, but Arcturus isn’t surprised. After all, he’d been quite stern with the boy, and he doubts that his parents ever had been with Regulus as the clear favorite.

“I have an update for you,” Rockhand says, taking a sip of the tea that Arcturus has provided for them. “Things have changed slightly.”

Arcturus takes a deep breath. “I see. Please, tell me.”

“The seers believe that your younger grandson is putting himself in danger,” Rockhand says. “They aren’t predicting his death, but they’ve seen several possibilities of his dying at a young age.”

Arcturus nods. “And Sirius?”

“His future is also murkier,” Rockhand admits. “But we believe it might be contingent upon Regulus’ choices.”

The boys are going to be there in a few days, and Arcturus will speak to them both about their choices then. He knows that they both have reason to act against Voldemort and his Death Eaters at this point, and there’s nothing like a riled up Black.

Arcturus can think of a few reasons that he’d be willing to go to war, including actions taken against anyone in his family.

If someone had targeted his wife, for example, Arcturus would have gone to war ten times over.

“What do the seers suggest?” Arcturus asks. “What should I do?”

“Speak with them,” Rockhand suggests. “Find out what they’re planning, and then let me know. If the seers know what they’re planning to do, they might be able to gain clearer sight.”

Arcturus considers that. “I don’t suppose you’d like to meet them.”

“Sirius, perhaps,” Rockhand says. “I’d like to get the measure of your heir.”

Arcturus knows what that means, but he doesn’t disagree. “Very well. I’ll set something up.”

He meets his grandsons at the front door when they arrive, and he’s worried enough to offer them both a quick hug. Sirius immediately shoots him  a look, but he’s warm. “Thank you, Grandfather. It’s good to see you.”

“And you, my boy,” Arcturus replies. “We have a few appointments this week, but I have various experts who are willing to train you. Are your friends going to visit?”

“That’s the plan,” Sirius replies. “In another week.”

“Same with my friends,” Regulus adds.

Arcturus nods. “Good. I look forward to seeing them again. Come inside and get settled.”

He’ll have Regulus for two weeks, and Sirius for most of the summer. Arcturus plans on waiting until Regulus has gone to his parents to speak with Sirius about his choices, and set up a meeting with Rockhand. He thinks it’s time for Sirius to get a more in-depth view of what’s going on.

Arcturus hopes it’s enough time, because he’s rapidly running out of opportunities to influence Sirius before he throws himself headlong into the war effort for Dumbledore.

Dinner is quiet, with Regulus pushing his food around on his plate, and Sirius shooting him worried glances. “How did the end of the year go?” Arcturus asks.

“Fine,” Regulus replies. “I expect to get good marks on all of my exams.”

“Sirius?” Arcturus prompts. “How about you?”

“I think I did well,” Sirius replies, “but I suppose time will tell.”

“When do the results come out?” Arcturus asks.

“Later this summer, along with prefect and Head Boy and Girl announcements,” Sirius replies. “After his performance this year, James might be in the running, and Head Girl is almost certainly going to Lily Evans.”

“It’s never a Slytherin,” Regulus grumbles.

“It was a Slytherin two years ago,” Sirius points out. “And there might be others who would have been nominated if they hadn’t left school early because of the Death Eaters.”

Regulus snorts. “I know.”

Arcturus knows that he’ll need to speak with Regulus at some point, too. He hadn’t expected reckless behavior out of Regulus, but if he’s grown that attached to Violet Miller, it does make sense.

Still, he feels as though he needs to nip that in the bud as much as possible.

Regulus begs off soon after dinner, though, claiming exhaustion and a desire to go to bed. Arcturus invites Sirius to join him in the study, handing him a butter beer, and pouring a glass of fire whiskey for himself.

“You’re using your cane more,” Sirius says bluntly. “When was the last time you saw the healer?”

“Just last week, and he says that it’s progressing, but not as quickly as it could,” Arcturus replies. “He can’t tell me how much time I might have left, but that’s not important. What’s important is what I do with that time. You only have one year of school left.”

“I wouldn’t have to go back,” Sirius points out. “I could leave now, just focus on training, stopping the Death Eaters.”

Arcturus nods slowly. “You could, and that would be your choice. I won’t force you to go back to school, but I think it would be a mistake to leave before you take your NEWTs. And you deserve to have another year to be a student, another year to be normal.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows. “Grandfather, I wear armor all the time outside of my dorm room, and I’m going to spend my summer training for war. I think we’re way past normal.”

“Well, as normal as possible,” Arcturus replies. “What’s going on with your brother? I had some worrying news.”

“From the goblins?” Sirius asks. “You’re still seeing them?”

“I’m taking no chances with the House of Black,” Arcturus replies. “And that means staying in regular contact with the seers. Things have been murkier of late.”

“Regulus suggested that he could serve as a spy on the Death Eaters,” Sirius says. “I pointed out that his oath would never let him take the mark, and that he’d never get close if he didn’t have it. I think I managed to talk him out of it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do something rash.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Arcturus admits, resting his chin on his folded hands. “You know, we put such faith in the characteristics we supposedly exhibit based on how we’re sorted. We tell ourselves that we can predict behavior based solely on a person’s primary characteristic—or the primary characteristic as identified by a magical hat.”

Sirius frowns. “You don’t think we can be defined so simply.”

“I have been alive a very long time,” Arcturus replies. “Do you really believe that your brother, a Slytherin, would be incapable of make a rash decision? Or that you, a Gryffindor, is incapable of being cunning?”

“No, of course not,” Sirius replies. “Both of those things are patently untrue.”

“Well, then,” Arcturus says. “You have your answer. What do you think Regulus is most likely to do?”

“Right now, nothing,” Sirius replies. “But if he’s not a Death Eater, he’s going to be making friends with people who aren’t Death Eaters, and that means there will be other people he knows and cares about who will become targets. When Regulus cares about someone, he’s all in, and that’s only going to get worse.”

Arcturus is a little surprised by Sirius’ clear-eyed analysis. “I think you’re right about that. What would you expect?”

“Got any ideas on how to kill Voldemort?” Sirius asks, and while his tone is facetious, his eyes are grim. “Because that’s what it’s going to take. I think a lot more people are going to end up dead before this is all over.”

“I know,” Arcturus replies. “And I can try to prepare Regulus for that fact, but as his brother, you may have more sway.”

“Or none at all,” Sirius counters. “If you ask me, I’d secure his oaths and wrap him up in cotton wool, at least as much as possible. It would be better if you could send him off after Hogwarts. Offer to pay for a mastery for him and Violet, if they’re both interested. Send them out of the country. Voldemort’s reach isn’t that long yet.”

“Do you think he’d agree?” Arcturus asks.

“I think you might want to make him,” Sirius replies. “For his own good. And if he’s out of the country, that’s at least one less target to deal with. If Violet goes with him, that’s two less. I think it’s worth exploring the option, but you may want to have him renew that vow, maybe make it more specific.”

Arcturus nods. “I’ll consider it, and it’s a good suggestion. Thank you.”

Sirius shrugs. “Anything to keep my brother safe.”

“i’ll do my best,” Arcturus promises.

It’s all either of them can do, he knows.

~~~~~

Regulus expects his grandfather to corner him. He knows that Sirius would have spoken to their grandfather, would have told him that Regulus suggested spying on Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

After having thought about it long and hard, Regulus knows that it had been a foolhardy suggestion, brought about in a moment of grief and anger. Violet is still sad about her sister, of course, but Regulus getting himself killed won’t bring her back.

And it would just make Violet even more sad—he thinks. He hopes.

Sirius is working with one of the tutors that Arcturus had obtained for him in advanced defensive magic, which is a little beyond Regulus’ skills at present. He could have attended, but he opts for time in the library, researching various spells and potions that might help them.

“You do realize that your brother told me about your plans,” Arcturus says, leaning heavily on his cane as he enters the study.

“They weren’t plans,” Regulus protests. “More like poorly-thought-out impulses. I just—it’s not fair that they targeted Violet’s sister, or that they killed a baby.”

There’s some part of Regulus that keeps trying to justify what happened—there’s still a part of him that keeps pointing out that Violet and her husband came to the defense of Muggles.

But the justification falls apart when he thinks about Violet’s niece. He’s seen pictures of the chubby baby, waving enthusiastically at the camera, a wide, toothless grin on her face.

Arcturus sits down in the chair next to Regulus’ heavily. “Hm. What would you kill for, Regulus?”

Regulus shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“I’m sure that you don’t,” his grandfather replies. “But I want you to think about this: what would you kill for?”

Regulus doesn’t have an answer to that, and so he maintains his silence.

“Would you kill to protect me?” Arcturus asks.

Regulus can’t quite meet his eyes, but he says, “I don’t know. Probably.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes,” he says reluctantly. His answer would have been different a year ago, but that was then.

“Your parents?”

Regulus nods. “I think so.”

“Violet?”

Regulus rubs his eyes. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because it’s important to figure out where your boundaries are before someone asks you to step across a line,” Arcturus says. 

“I probably would,” Regulus admits reluctantly. “I really like her.”

Arcturus nods slowly. “There are people that I would kill to protect—your grandmother was one, my children, my grandchildren, of course. But I would not let myself be pressed into the service of a monster in order to protect them, or you. Do you understand the difference?”

“It’s different killing someone who’s pointing a wand at you with the intent to kill,” Regulus says dully. “They’re killing babies for sport.”

“Good, I’m glad you understand the difference,” Arcturus replies. “It’s easy to be caught up in a crowd, to get carried away. I’m grateful that I had so many years in the Wizengamot. Do you know why?”

Regulus shakes his head silently.

“Because I had to find common ground with many people, including those who disagreed with me vehemently,” Arcturus replies. “The House of Black has always valued being pure of blood. Until Andromeda, not a single Black had married someone with a Muggle relative that was under three times removed. I don’t regret that.”

Regulus looks at him, startled. “But Sirius—“

“Sirius and I have a difference of opinion, and there will come a day when he’s the Head of our house, and he may make different choices,” Arcturus admits. “He may even marry a Muggle-born—or worse, someone with no magic, although I doubt it. And if he doesn’t marry or sire an heir, and you end up being the head of the House, then you may make different choices than he would have, or that I would have. Do you understand?”

Regulus nods slowly. “There’s room for disagreement in civilized society, but Voldemort doesn’t allow for that at all.”

“Precisely,” Arcturus replies. “What sort of a monster kills children?”

“I almost followed him,” Regulus says in a whisper, because that’s what has been on his conscience lately. “I could have been marked, and then I might have been there, and I might have… I might have…”

He can’t complete the thought, and he’s fighting back tears, and his grandfather merely watches him with compassion, although he doesn’t offer any platitudes. He doesn’t say that Regulus is better than that, or that he would have come to his senses. 

Maybe Regulus would have come to his senses if Voldemort threatened someone he loved, but he’d cut his brother out of his life, and all his friends had been Death Eaters, or those destined to join them. It hasn’t been until now that Regulus has been able to care for anyone else.

“Your brother has advised me to wrap you up in additional oaths, but I don’t think that’s necessary, is it?” Arcturus asks. “This has been a very expensive lesson, at least for some, but you now know that there are lines you will not cross.”

Regulus turns burning eyes towards him. “I don’t—I don’t want to hurt anyone. We can advocate for purebloods in other, better ways. I haven’t changed my politics, but I don’t think we can use any means necessary.”

“Good,” Arcturus replies. “I’m glad you realize that.”

“I thought it was a game,” Regulus finally admits. “I thought scaring Muggles was funny, that it wasn’t a big deal.”

Arcturus sighs audibly. “Pureblood culture is worth protecting, my boy. Our traditions are worth protecting, and I will always believe that. But not having magic shouldn’t make Muggles a target for torture or murder.”

“I know,” Regulus says soberly. “No one should be hurt like that. I think I get that now.”

“Remember there are ways to protect our way of life that don’t put others in jeopardy,” Arcturus says. “The Statute of Secrecy is there to protect our way of life, to keep us safe. Attacking Muggles is a crime for a very good reason.”

Regulus feels suitably chastised. “I understand.”

“I’m glad that you do,” Arcturus replies. “I don’t want to be hard on you, Reg. We all go through phases where we experiment with anarchy. But it’s incumbent upon those of us from the right families to also set the right example.”

Regulus rubs his hands on his pants. “Do you think he will win?”

“No, I don’t, because people like your brother won’t let that happen,” Arcturus says. “And there are enough people who want to stop him, that I don’t think he ever will win, even if he might have some victories along the way.” 

His grandfather pauses, and then says, “You don’t have to be a spy, or do something stupidly brave, you know. You can be a quiet agent of change.”

“How do you mean?” Regulus asks, feeling a burgeoning hope, because his grandfather sounds so certain.

“Offer people a third path, the option of neutrality,” Arcturus replies. “Protect your own. Be clear about what you will and won’t do. You can offer a middle road.”

Regulus considers that for a moment, and then he says, “I think that’s what I’ve been doing.”

“Then keep doing that,” Arcturus replies. “Because there’s safety in numbers, lad.”

“i know,” Regulus replies. “So, I have to keep building our numbers.”

“Good,” Arcturus replies. “You’ll do just fine.”

Regulus’ friends arrive the following day, as do the rest of the Marauders, as Sirius and his friends are known around the school. Away from Hogwarts and prying eyes, they’re all friendly, greeting each other with handshakes and back slaps and even a few hugs.

Arcturus greets each of them by name, and asks a question about their families. He pulls Violet aside, though, and has a quiet word with her, an arm around her shoulders. Regulus sees Violet bury her face in his grandfather’s shoulder, and Arcturus presses a kiss to the top of her head.

The others all sober at that, reminded of the tragedy that had befallen her, and Sirius says, “Let’s go inside. I think Cordy has snacks.”

He pauses as he passes Violet and presses a hand to her shoulder. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Violet.”

Violet lifts her head, and her eyes are burning. “Take him down for me, please.”

“I’ll do the best I can,” Sirius replies. and follows their grandfather’s lead, kissing her forehead.

Regulus hovers around the door, waiting for Violet, feeling as though he should. When Arcturus releases her, Violet tucks herself under Regulus’ arm. “I’m okay,” she murmurs. “Your grandfather was just being kind.”

“He must like you, then,” Regulus jokes.

“Of course, I like her,” Arcturus replies. “She’s a bright, lovely girl, and would be a grand edition to any house she graced.”

Violet blushes. “And you’re too kind.”

“Rarely,” Arcturus replies. “Go on inside, you two. Enjoy the snacks. I know Cordy and the other house elves have outdone themselves.”

His grandfather is right about that. When they enter the study they usually occupy, there’s a table that’s just groaning with various treats—pumpkin pasties, treacle tarts, biscuits of all types—you name the treat, and it’s on the table. There’s tea and butter beers, too, and while Violet hangs on to his arm, she seems cheerful enough for now.

And when they’ve all filled their plates, and they’re ranged around the study, Sirius says, “We have to come up with a plan.”

“What kind of plan?” Elias asks. “You Gryffindors will join the battle, and the rest of us will sit back and hope that we don’t have to deal with the fallout.”

Sirius takes a deep breath and then leans forward. “Don’t you all see? That’s how Voldemort is winning. He’s set up a situation where it’s us against them. It’s the light against the dark, but what if we created a situation where it was the rest of us against the Death Eaters, in whatever capacity people wanted to participate?”

Byron matches Sirius’ posture. “Explain.”

“Neutrality is an option, and we could make it an attractive one,” Sirius replies. “We protect neutral parties, right? Just like we protect those on the side of the light. We offer people whatever they need.”

Regulus nods. “We can do that. If we arm ourselves, and we show we can protect ourselves, people will start to see our option as a viable one.”

“We can do that,” Violet insists. “If my sister had people protecting her once she knew… They might still be alive.”

“They might,” Sirius says. “And we should protect them, no question. So, let’s make a plan. We only have one more year of school, but the rest of you have at least a couple. You might hear things. We can figure out who to approach, and how to approach them. We can be smart about this.”

“What about Dumbledore?” Elias objects. “It’s always been join the light or be out on your own with him.”

Sirius smirks in that reckless way he has. “Who cares about Dumbledore? This is our plan. These are our lives. We do what we need to do in order to keep people alive, and keep the wizarding world safe.”

And Regulus loves his brother just a little bit more in that moment.

~~~~~

Sirius is beginning to come up with a plan. Even if people stay neutral, rather than joining the fight, those are still people who aren’t with Voldemort. They’re still people they don’t have to fight.

His friends don’t say anything in the moment, but later, when it’s just the four of them, James says, “Pads, what the hell? I thought we were going to join the Order. We talked about this.”

“I don’t want my brother in the Order,” Sirius says bluntly. “I don’t want anyone in the Order who isn’t fully committed to the cause.”

“Granted,” James says. “But—“

“And not everyone is going to be committed to the cause,” Sirius continues. “So, instead of letting them be bullied into submission, and taking up arms for Voldemort, we give them a third choice. It’s not an either/or proposition that way.”

“You make a really good pint, Pads,” Peter says, which is unexpected. “If people think they can stay neutral, maybe that’s an option they’ll take.”

“People are afraid,” Remus agrees. “We could give them the opportunity to be less afraid.”

James takes a deep breath. “Okay, that does make sense, now that you say it. Not everyone wants to fight a war.”

“I don’t want to fight a war,” Peter mutters.

“You don’t have to,” Sirius says. “No one is going to force you to join the Order. You can just live your life after school.”

“You’re all going to join,” Peter protests. “I don’t want to be left behind.”

“I might not,” Remus inserts. “I’m pretty sure that Dumbledore is going to ask me to go to the werewolf packs, and I can’t do that without revealing the goblin charm, which I’m not going to do.”

James elbows Sirius. “I guess that just leaves you and me, assuming that you’re still willing.”

“I am,” Sirius says. “I’m going to use this summer to train.”

“I think I’m going to join you,” James declares. “We can spend a couple of weeks with my parents at the end of the summer.”

And that’s exactly what they do. Peter and Remus go home after a couple of weeks, and Regulus leaves at the same time that his friends do. But Sirius and James learn everything they can from every instructor his grandfather can drum up—the dueling master, yes, but also a retired Auror who walks with the help of a cane and a couple of wooden legs, but is still faster than a snake in a duel. There’s the potions master who teaches them defensive brewing, and the fencing instructor who teaches them to be quick on their feet and move like every fight is a dance.

By the time they’re due to leave, Sirius feels far more prepared to join the Order, and feels like he could be an asset.

And their school lists come before they’re scheduled to go to James’ house. James gets the Head Boy badge and grins at it stupidly. “I didn’t think this would happen.”

Sirius snorts. “Come on, Prongs. Lily started paying attention to you for a reason. You really put in the work this year.”

“It could have been you,” James argues.

Sirius shakes his head immediately. “No, it couldn’t have been. Besides, I’m pretty sure Dumbledore knows that you and Lily are dating, and the man seems to love his symmetry.”

“I should write Lily and see,” James announces. “If she came to visit before school, you wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No, of course not.”

James bolts from the study, and Sirius rolls his eyes at his friend. James and Lily have been exchanging letters on a twice-weekly basis all summer. Sirius is just surprised that it had taken James this long to ask.

“What lit his tail on fire?” Arcturus asks as he limps into the library.

His grandfather’s decline has been gradual, but Sirius thinks this will be the last summer that Arcturus will allow them to bring friends around. He’s leaning on his cane more heavily, and he’s lost a bit more weight. Arcturus looks gaunt and ill, and Sirius assumes that it’s only going to get worse.

More than that, he knows that his grandfather doesn’t want anyone to see him that way, not unless they’re family.

And maybe not even then, considering that he and Regulus have been the only ones his grandfather has welcomed into Black Manor.

“He received word that he’s been chosen as Head Boy, and he wanted to write to Lily, probably to ask if she’s going to be Head Girl,” Sirius replies. “He’s besotted.”

“And you’re not jealous?” Arcturus asks.

Sirius frowns. “Why would I be jealous? I’m not ready to settle down yet, so even if I’d found someone, I wouldn’t act on it. I certainly wouldn’t do anything until after the war is over. I have you and Reg, and my friends. James will be captain of the Quidditch team and Head Boy, and he’ll make his parents very proud, but I’d rather focus on what’s to come, and ending the war.”

“I never wanted you to lose your childhood,” Arcturus says solemnly.

Sirius frowns, but he really thinks about what his grandfather has said, and he finally replies. “I haven’t. I’ve rediscovered it.”

Arcturus closes his eyes, and Sirius realizes that his words have wounded him, even though he didn’t mean to do so. “It’s been good, Grandfather.”

“I would feel better about it if I knew you’d had more summers like the last one,” Arcturus replies. “You’ve worked very hard this summer. I’ve seen it.”

Sirius blows out a breath. “We need to finish this war sooner, rather than later. If I can be a part of that, I will. Too many people are dying.”

“You know that’s not your responsibility, right?” Arcturus asks. “You’re not the one doing the killing, and it’s not your job to stop it.”

Sirius looks at him. “It has to be someone’s job, though. If someone doesn’t stop Voldemort and his Death Eaters, they’ll just go on killing, and doing other horrific things.”

His grandfather reaches out and ruffles his hair. “I would say that I wished you were less of a Gryffindor, but I’m proud of the person you are, so I can’t. But I do need you to stay alive, Sirius.”

“I can’t promise that,” Sirius replies. “But I can promise to try my best.”

“That’s all any of us can ask,” Arcturus replies. 

“You should take care of yourself, too, Grandfather,” Sirius replies. “I’d like you to stick around as well.”

Arcturus smiles warmly. “I’ll do my best.”

He and James go to visit his parents for the last two weeks of the summer, and Sirius appreciates the warm welcome they offer him.

But they gush over James, and him making Head Boy and Quidditch captain. James blushes at their praise, but he casts an anxious look at Sirius.

Sirius just gives a quick shake of his head and a small smile. He doesn’t mind James’ success, and he certainly doesn’t begrudge James any of it.

But then Mrs. Potter’s attention turns to him, and she pulls him into a tight hug. “How are you, Sirius? And how’s your grandfather?”

“We’re both doing well,” Sirius replies, although he knows that he’s fudging the truth a bit. “Thanks for having me.”

“Any time, of course,” Mr. Potter replies. “We wouldn’t have minded you moving in with us, but I’m glad that you have family you can count on now.”

Sirius nods. “Me, too.”

~~~~~

Regulus flinches as his mother shrieks at him. “That girl is trash!”

They’re in the study, his mother’s preferred place to dress down her children. Regulus has watched and listened to her do the same to Sirius time after time, and he’d felt grateful it wasn’t him, and maybe a little smug that he was the favorite.

That was before he got a letter from Violet that his mother saw, though.

“She’s not trash, Mother,” Regulus says. “She’s from a very good wizarding family.”

“Who invited trouble!” Walburga shouts. “Helping Muggles! By all rights, they should have joined the Death Eaters, or at least kept their noses out of it.”

Regulus is beginning to wonder how his brother stayed around as long as he did, and why he didn’t run away sooner. “My mind isn’t going to change, Mother, and if you persist in yelling at me, I’ll go stay with Grandfather. He approves of the match.”

Walburga sneers at that. “He’s getting weak in his old age. He hasn’t been seen in public in years.”

She’s not wrong, but Regulus maintains an impassive, neutral expression. “I think he’s quite hale and hearty, Mother. You’re angry because Grandfather has made it clear that Sirius is his heir, and he’s not going to change his mind. You’re also angry that you can’t control your children anymore, and that we can get away from you.”

He’s expecting the slap across the face, and he takes it stoically. “Slapping me won’t change anything.”

She raises her hand again, and Regulus hears his father say, “Walburga, that’s enough. You won’t hit the boy again.”

“You are such a disappointment,” Walburga hisses at him. “Just like your brother.”

“There are worse things to be,” Regulus replies, his chin tilted up, daring her to hit him again.

He can remember Sirius doing the same thing. He understands now.

Orion says, “Go to your room, Regulus.”

Regulus goes, knowing that he shouldn’t antagonize his parents. He certainly doesn’t plan on coming back to this house so long as he has any choice at all in the matter.

He calls for Kreacher as soon as he’s in his room. “I need you to take a message to Sirius.”

Kreacher sneers. “Master Sirius hates Kreacher.”

“Yeah, and an owl is going to take too long,” Regulus replies, remember what his grandfather had said about being firm. “So, you’re going to take him a letter, and then you’re going to take one to Grandfather.”

“Lord Black is scary,” Kreacher protests.

“Only if you don’t do what I say,” Regulus counters. He touches his cheek where his mother had slapped him, still feeling the heat of the blow.

“Kreacher brings Master Regulus something while he writes his letters,” Kreacher replies.

Regulus scribbles off a quick note to Sirius, telling him that his mother thoroughly disapproves of Violet because her family is too nice to Muggles. He doesn’t say anything about the slap, though, or being sent to his room. If he ever tells Sirius, he figures he’ll do it in person.

His letter to Arcturus is more formal, because he’s requesting sanctuary in his grandfather’s house. Permanently.

It’s something that Sirius could have done if he’d wanted to do so, and known that their grandfather would welcome him. But formally requesting sanctuary, if granted, means that Arcturus is admitting that their parents aren’t fit. That Regulus is better off under his roof.

Regulus is getting even with them in the best way he knows how, because this is going to get out, and his parents are going to be terribly embarrassed.

On second thought, Regulus grabs the letter he’d written to Sirius and adds a postscript. 

I formally asked Grandfather for sanctuary. It will probably get out.

Kreacher pops into his bedroom with a cold pack and a snack. “I have something for Master Regulus’ face.”

“Thanks, Kreacher,” Regulus says. “I have the letters ready.”

“Master Regulus will call Kreacher?” he asks anxiously.

“I will,” Regulus promises. “Thank you.”

He just has to get through the rest of the summer with his parents. He only has a few weeks, and he specifically told his grandfather that he doesn’t need immediate sanctuary. 

Regulus doesn’t need his grandfather riding to his rescue this summer; he just needs to never come back, and to make it clear to his parents that he’s never coming back. 

Kreacher returns shortly with letters from both his brother and grandfather. Sirius’ note is short but demanding, wanting to know what their parents had done, because he knows they’d done something. Arcturus is more reassuring, letting Regulus know that he’ll take action when Regulus returns to school.

Unless you need me before then, his grandfather writes. If you do, send Kreacher, and I’ll come and get you.

Regulus doesn’t expect the rest of the summer to be anything other than miserable for the next few weeks, but his parents end up treating him with chilly courtesy. He wonders if his grandfather had written to them as well, but decides it doesn’t matter. He knows what needs to happen, and his parents have shown their true faces.

Regulus had gone home to try to connect with them, and with the person he had been for so long, and now he’s realizing that he’s outgrown his parents’ narrow worldview as well as his old self.

Turns out, he’s no longer that person, and he’s not comfortable pretending.

Regulus writes back to Sirius in more detail, and although he hesitates, he tells Sirius about their mom’s blow-up, her description of Violet as being trash, the slap, all of it. If anyone might show sympathy, it’s his brother.

He probably shouldn’t say anything, but—

He just wants someone to understand.

“I’m sorry, Kreacher,” Regulus calls. “But I need you to take this to my brother. He wanted an immediate reply. You don’t have to wait for a response, though.”

Kreacher grumbles, but does as asked.

What he doesn’t do is not wait for Sirius to respond, because Kreacher returns an hour later with a letter from Sirius.

“I told you not to wait for a reply,” Regulus says.

Kreacher glares at him. “Master Sirius is the heir. He told me to wait. I’m not your owl, Master Regulus!”

He pops away before Regulus can apologize again, and so he just goes to reading Sirius’ letter.

Brother, I’m sorry Mom shat on you and Violet. I’m glad you didn’t let her get away with it, though. Violet is brilliant. You probably don’t deserve her. That being said, though, you didn’t deserve what she said or did, so get that out of your head right now. If you need an escape, and you don’t want to go to Grandfather, send me a message through Kreacher, or by owl, and James and I will come up with something. The Potters will put you up no problem, because you’re my brother. No matter where I am, you’ll always have a place, because I’ll make one for you.

Love,

Sirius

Regulus blinks rapidly to clear away the tears that are threatening to fall.

He has his brother. He has his grandfather. That will have to be enough. 

~~~~~

“What’s wrong?” James asks.

Sirius sighs. “My mother hit Regulus, and she called Violet trash because her sister had the temerity to interfere with the Death Eaters and prevent some Muggles from being tortured to death.”

There’s a pause, and James scrubs his hands over his face. “I know you said your parents were awful, and I believed you, but Regulus… He was the golden child.”

“Operative word, ‘was,’” Sirius replies. “He’s decided to hitch his star to an unsuitable woman, and he’s on the outs. My parents care nothing for legacy, only pureblood values, and shitting on Muggles. He’s asked our grandfather for sanctuary. Formal sanctuary.”

James whistles. “I thought you were ruthless, but that’s going to make the rounds quickly once your grandfather grants it.”

“He will, after Regulus returns to Hogwarts, because that’s what was requested,” Sirius replies. “Regulus insists that he’s fine, and will make it work until the end of the summer. I’m of a mind to go and get him out of there, but he insists he’ll stick it out.”

“You should let him,” James says. “He’s probably thinking of what you endured, Siri. He’s doing penance.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have to!” Sirius replies hotly. “I wanted him safe, Prongs! I did everything I could to make him safe!”

They’re in James’ room, and Sirius keeps his voice down, not wanting to disturb the Potters. 

“Yes, you did, and maybe you paved the way to allow him to make the decisions that he has to make himself happy, and fuck with your parents’ expectations,” James replies.

Sirius shoves his hands through his hair. “I know. I know! He doesn’t deserve the rejection I faced, not when he’s done everything right.”

“You don’t deserve it either,” James replies. “You never did, my friend.”

Sirius buries his face in his hands. “I could have asked my grandfather for sanctuary before. I had no idea that he would have taken us, or me, but I could have, and that might have protected Reg.”

“Pads, don’t be a fucking idiot,” James replies. “Your brother found the strength to make the right choice. If we need to rescue him, we will, but know what you’re doing.”

“Regulus has asked me not to interfere and so I won’t,” Sirius replies. “I just hate that our mother hit him.”

“You should,” James replies. “You should hate that anyone hurt him, because he’s your brother, and your parents are absolute pricks, okay?”

Sirius knows that’s true. “Okay, yes. You’re right, and Regulus is a big boy. He knows I’ll come for him if he needs me, and that Grandfather would do the same.”

James claps him on the shoulder. “Relax, Pads. You survived your parents, and so will Regulus.”

Sirius knows that he’s right about that. Their parents are abusive arseholes, but they’re not going to do anything that will cause Regulus lasting harm. They know better than that.

“Come on, we can hex some dummies in the spare room,” James says. “You can blow off some steam that way, pretend they’re your parents.”

James had set up a practice area in one of the Potters’ spare bedrooms so he could work on defense even during inclement weather, and that’s where they go now. Sirius does find it cathartic to imagine his parents’ faces on those of the practice dummies as he casts hexes in rapid fire.

“Your lessons this summer really paid off,” James comments when they take a break. “You’re the next thing to a hit wizard.”

“Hardly,” Sirius replies. “I’d need a lot more training for that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be a Slytherin who tries cursing you in the back,” James replies. “And you know that Lily will be here tomorrow.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Yes, James, you’ve mentioned that approximately twenty times at this point.”

“I just want to be sure you don’t mind,” James replies. “I know it’s a big change.”

Sirius levels a look at him. “The only change is that you’re no longer mooning over her, and are actually with her. I appreciate that fact. Just promise me that I can be your best man when you tie the knot.”

“We’re not there yet,” James protests.

Sirius snorts. “Come on. Tell me that you haven’t asked your parents for permission to buy her a promise ring.”

James flushes. “I can’t tell you that.”

Sirius grins at him triumphantly. “So, when are you going to give her the ring?”

James shakes his head. “I just want to get through the next week of her visiting, and see how that goes.”

“When are you going to meet her family?” Sirius asks idly.

James blows out a breath. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. She’s suggested meeting her parents in London for dinner the night before we’re returning to Hogwarts. But it would just be my parents, hers, and the two of us.”

“Are you asking permission to ditch me?” Sirius asks with a smirk. “Because it’s fine, Prongs. I’m capable of being on my own for the evening, or maybe I’ll ask Reg to sneak out and meet me. In fact, that might be kind of nice, now that I think about it.”

James gives him a relieved look. “Thanks, Pads.”

“Think nothing of it,” Sirius insists. “I just expect you to be a good wingman when I find that special someone.”

James sits up from his sprawl. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t dated much over the last couple of years.”

“Ah, that,” Sirius says slowly. He’s a little surprised that it had taken James this long to notice. Remus doesn’t date much, even though the goblin charm has rendered him safe, but he would have to be with someone he trusted. Peter tends to run around after girls who are mostly too good for him. 

But Sirius could have his pick of girls, and he knows that.

“Do you know how attractive marrying the heir of the House of Black is to some?” Sirius asks.

James rolls his eyes. “Yes, Pads, I do have some idea.”

“I can’t date casually,” Sirius replies. “Not unless the other party is also interested in a casual relationship. And how many people would say they weren’t interested in something long-term just to entrap me?”

“And no one has caught your eye for a long-term commitment?” James queries.

Sirius smiles. “Not like Lily caught yours, and it would take someone like that for me to enter into a committed relationship while there’s still a war on.”

James frowns. “Do you think I’m being foolish?”

“They say love makes fools of men,” Sirius says. “But no, I don’t. You might as well live while you can, Prongs. You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you,” James counters.

Sirius shrugs. “I am happy. I have my grandfather, and my brother, which is more than what I had a few years ago. I have you and the other Marauders. I can’t complain.”

He means that, too, and he greets Lily warmly when she turns up the following day, looking a little shy. He remembers the first time James had invited him to stay, and how nervous he’d been. Based on how James talked about his parents, he’d expected them to be nicer than his own, but he still had been surprised at just how welcoming they had been.

James’ parents are just as welcoming to Lily, Mrs. Potter enfolding her in a hug and saying how glad they are to have her there. Mr. Potter shakes her hand and says that she’s as pretty as James had said.

Lily gives James a look that Sirius easily reads, and James immediately protests, “I also talked about how smart you are!”

“Brightest witch in Hogwarts,” Mr. Potter says. “He’s mentioned that often.”

Lily’s dimples flash. “That’s more like it.”

“Come in, and I’ll show you where you’re saying, my dear,” Mrs. Potter says. “James, you’ll take her trunk.”

“Of course,” James says, jumping to it. 

Mr. Potter rests a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Are you all right, son? James said you had an upsetting letter from your brother.”

“Regulus had an unpleasant interaction with our mother,” Sirius replies. “So, he’s requesting formal sanctuary with our grandfather.”

Mr. Potter frowns. “Is there a reason you didn’t do the same? Not that we ever mind having you here, of course.”

Sirius smiles. “I know that, Mr. Potter. But by the time I knew that my grandfather would welcome me, I no longer needed the option. This allows Regulus to have the same thing I found.”

He doesn’t say that it also allows Regulus to take a measure of revenge on their parents, since it will get around fairly quickly.

Mr. Potter squeezes his shoulder. “Good. I’m glad your grandfather has been such a support to you and your brother. There’s nothing so important as family, but there’s also no one who can hurt you as badly.”

“That’s the truth,” Sirius agrees. 

He finds James and Lily in the bedroom that Mrs. Potter had made ready for her with fresh flowers on the small vanity table, and a cheerful quilt on the bed. James and Lily are sitting on the bed next to each other, the door left decorously open.

“Did Mrs. Potter insist that you two leave the door open?” Sirius teases.

James glares at him. “Pads!”

Sirius shrugs unrepentantly. “Just keeping you two honest.”

“We’re quite capable of looking after ourselves, and I wouldn’t disrespect James’ parents that way,” Lily says pertly, but then her expression softens. “But you’re welcome to join us.”

Sirius sprawls out on the floor. “Don’t mind if I do.”

The dynamic is different with Lily around, the conversation a little less personal, more general. Sirius notices that Lily stays away from anything regarding her family. Reading between the lines, Sirius thinks that her family probably doesn’t have much money. She references her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend, but only as a brief mention.

“What about you, Sirius?” Lily asks. “How is your family?”

Sirius hesitates. “My grandfather is doing well enough. Regulus is having some trouble with our parents, but nothing Grandfather can’t fix.”

“The same kind of trouble that you had with them?” Lily asks with a sympathetic grimace. “James didn’t tell me anything, but it’s kind of an open secret that you don’t like to go home.”

Sirius shrugs. “It’s no secret. And yes, my mother has apparently decided that Violet Miller isn’t a suitable match.”

Lily frowns. “Why? She’s a pureblood, and her family is the same, right?”

“They are,” Sirius replies. “And her sister and her husband protected their Muggle neighbors from Death Eaters.”

Lily gives him a fierce smile. “Good for them.”

“They died, along with their baby,” Sirius says flatly. “Not that I disagree with the sentiment.”

Lily blanches, and James glares at him. “Padfoot!”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says immediately. “But it’s true.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s true,” Lily says stoutly. “No matter how distasteful the truth might be. And that’s awful for Violet.”

Sirius grimaces. “I think it was. From what I gather, her parents are going into hiding.”

“Those damn Death Eaters,” Lily says, her eyes kindling with a fiery rage. “As soon as I get the chance, I’m going after them myself.”

“Has the Headmaster spoken to you about joining the Order?” James asks.

Lily nods. “I wasn’t sure until recently, but now I know I will.”

“I am, too,” James asserts. “We’ve been training this summer

Sirius sighs. “Well, I’m certainly not going to allow your dumb arse to join alone. We should get a flat when we leave Hogwarts. We can invite Remus to join us.”

James brightens. “That’s an excellent idea, Pads!”

“Why do you call him Pads?” Lily asks, looking between the two of them. “I’ve noticed you all have odd nicknames for each other.”

Sirius gives James a look, and his friend shrugs. Sirius thinks about the promise ring, and he shifts to his animagus form. Lily is Muggle-born, so he isn’t surprised when she just seems delighted. “Oh, look at that! I’ve seen Professor McGonagall transform into a cat, but I haven’t met many animagi.”

Sirius transforms back. “Sure, you have. You know at least three—four, if you count McGonagall.”

Lily turns to stare at James. “When were you going to tell me? And can I see?”

“I was going to tell you once I knew I could tell you about the rest of it, and only when we’re outdoors. My form isn’t as inside-friendly as Sirius’.” James’ expression is clearly sheepish. “And not all of it is my story to tell.”

Lily’s eyes narrow. “Is this about Remus being a werewolf?”

Sirius knows he’s as stunned as James looks. “How did you know that?” Sirius demands.

Lily rolls her eyes. “Please, as Mr. Potter said, I’m the brightest witch in our class. I noticed that Remus looked ill, and then I started to notice when he looked ill. And I certainly noticed when he stopped looking ill around the same time. Then I noticed the jewelry he hadn’t been wearing before he went to visit Sirius and his grandfather, and I did my research.”

“Brightest witch of the age,” James mutters. “How many others do you think noticed?”

“A few,” Lily replies. “Mostly in Gryffindor, and no one is going to mention it. Remus is well liked in the House. Outside of it, Severus has noticed, certainly, but if Remus is safe, there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“Why was he so interested in us?” Sirius asks. “I mean, I know we have a mutual hatred for each other, but he was weirdly fixated.”

Lily sighs. “Not weirdly. Severus and I were friends before Hogwarts. He knew James liked me.”

“So he’s probably going to be even more insufferable than usual?” James asks snidely.

Lily elbows him. “He’s too busy being a Death Eater. If he approaches me, it will probably be to get me to join him.”

“You’re Muggle-born,” James objects. 

Lily snorts. “The Death Eaters are hypocrites. They don’t care about blood status if you can help them. Mark my words, we’ll all be approached this next year.”

Sirius believes her, and he thinks she’s probably right.

After all, she’s the brightest witch of their age.

~~~~~

Regulus has spent weeks in his parents’ house, working out a routine. Kreacher brings him his breakfast and lunch, and then he has dinner with his parents. His father glares his mother into submission, and Regulus wouldn’t be surprised to find out that his grandfather sent a letter to his son, warning about what might happen if Regulus came to harm under their roof.

He’s a little surprised when Kreacher pops into his room and says, “Master Sirius has a message for Master Regulus, and he asked Kreacher to wait for a reply.”

Regulus frowns. They’re due to return to Hogwarts in a few days, so there’s no reason to make contact. And then he reads the letter.

Dear brother,

I’m going to be a bit at loose ends the night before we return to school, and I imagine you want to get out of the house. Meet me for dinner in London. We’ll have fun.

Sirius

Regulus brightens at that. An evening not spent under the same roof as his parents, even if it’s just the day before they’re due to return to Hogwarts, sounds perfect. He’s never gone out with Sirius before, and doing so seems like it would be an adventure. It’s not as though either of them have been given such an opportunity before.

“Tell Sirius I’m happy to go with him,” Regulus replies. “But I can’t rely on our parents to deliver me anywhere.”

Kreacher tugs at his ears. “I tell Master Sirius.”

Regulus’ heart feels a little lighter. Even if spending time with him has been brought about only because James had something better to do, at least Sirius had asked to spend time with him, rather than spend time alone. Not that long ago, Regulus believes that Sirius would have preferred solitude.

There are times when Regulus wonders just how Sirius had done it, survived being cut off from his family. Regulus has felt the loss of his parents acutely over the course of the summer, and yet he knows that he still has his brother and grandfather. Sirius hadn’t.

Kreacher pops back in, and says, “Master Sirius says to be outside at 6, and he will arrange everything.”

Regulus is eagerly anticipating the evening with Sirius, and Kreacher causes a distraction so he can slip out of the front door.

Sirius is waiting for him, wearing smart trousers and a button down shirt, but no robes. Regulus frowns. “Should I not wear this?”

“We’re going to a Muggle restaurant, so you can ditch the wizarding robes,” Sirius replies.

Regulus grimaces. “I don’t want to go back inside. Kreacher caused a distraction so I could leave without them knowing.”

Sirius snorts. “No one is going to see them if you just leave them on the front steps, not with how Mother warded the place.”

Regulus realizes that Sirius is right, so he just takes off his robes and leaves them on the front steps. “Why a Muggle restaurant?” he asks.

“We’re in Muggle London, brother,” Sirius replies, slinging an arm over Regulus’ shoulders. “There are Muggle restaurants a short tube ride away. If we tried to go to Diagon Alley, it would take too long. Don’t worry about it.”

Regulus is uncomfortable in the Muggle world. “Do you have money?”

“Of course,” Sirius replies. “Unlike you, I know how to navigate the Muggle world, and it wouldn’t hurt you to learn, you know.”

“Why would I need to?” Regulus asks.

“Do you think the Death Eaters could find you if you needed to run?” Sirius asks. “They’re idiots, every last one of them. Besides, the food is really good. You’ll see.”

Sirius leads him to a nearby tube stop, and down the stairs. “How do you know how to do this?”

“You don’t think I snuck out a few times when I was still living with our parents?” Sirius asks. “Trial and error, Reg. A lot of trials, and a lot of errors.”

The restaurant is a couple of stops away, and Regulus half-expects to run into trouble when Sirius sees the person at the front of the restaurant. “I have a reservation for two,” Sirius says confidently. “Sirius Black?”

Regulus blinks, not really recognizing his brother in that moment. Sirius is smooth, and suddenly appears to be older than he is. 

The hostess smiles at the both of them. “Welcome. Please follow me.”

She leads them to a small table in a corner, hands each of them a menu, and then says, “Your server will be with you shortly.”

Regulus glances at the menu and frowns. “Italian?”

“I thought it would be a nice change of pace,” Sirius replies. “It’s not like we have much pasta at Hogwarts.”

“No, I guess not,” Regulus says. “I just—don’t know what to get.”

Sirius plucks the menu out of his hands. “Don’t worry about it.”

Their server appears with two glasses of water and a smile. “I’m Mary, and I’ll be your waitress this evening. What can I get you?”

“My brother is going to have the spaghetti and meatballs, and I’m going with the penne alla vodka,” Sirius replies. “With chicken.”

Mary smiles. “Of course. I’ll get that order put in for you two.”

“I’m not a child,” Regulus hisses when she leaves.

“I know you’re not, but I’ve actually been here before,” Sirius replies. “And their meatballs are great.”

Regulus takes a sip of water. “Where did you get the money?”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “Dad keeps Muggle money in a safe in the study. I took it from him.”

Regulus feels as though his entire world is being rearranged. “Why would he have Muggle money?”

“Because sometimes even the most anti-Muggle wizards need to navigate this world,” Sirius replies. “I doubt our mother knows. Dad is more pragmatic. Pretty sure he knew what I was doing, too.”

Regulus takes another gulp of water. “But Dad never said anything to you?”

“Why do you think he keeps Muggle money around?” Sirius asks.

To get away, Regulus thinks. Somewhere Mother would never look for him.

“Don’t worry about it, Reg,” Sirius adds. “But I like to keep both Muggle and wizarding money on hand just to be safe.”

“So you can take your brother out to dinner?” Regulus asks archly.

“You needed to get out of that house,” Sirius replies. “And be reminded that you have family. I know how that is, and once we’re back at Hogwarts, we’ll have to pretend to ignore each other again. So, yes, I have Muggle money so I can take you out to dinner.”

Regulus smiles. “Thanks.”

“Don't worry about it,” Sirius replies. “Let’s just focus on having a fun evening.”

The evening is a lot more fun than Regulus anticipates. The food is good, the meatballs just as tasty as Sirius promised. After dinner, they wander through Muggle London. Regulus is uncomfortable at first, but then he realizes that no one is looking at them in their smart clothes, and no one marks their passing.

They wander into a record store and browse through the selections, Sirius waxing poetic about his favorite bands. Regulus had known Sirius favored Muggle music, but hadn’t realized he knew so much about it.

There’s a small convenience store that they stop in, and Sirius buys him Muggle candy. “It’s different from wizard candy,” Sirius says. “But it’s still pretty good.”

Regulus has a bit of a sweet tooth, so he accepts the offer of a Mars Bar, tucking it into his pocket for later. They stop by a park, where there are some Muggle kids hanging around smoking.

“You ever tried a Muggle cigarette?” Sirius asks.

Regulus shakes his head. “No, and I don’t really want to start now.”

Sirius grins at him. “All right, we won’t push it tonight. I know I’ve already shoved you out of your comfort zone.”

They head back to Grimmauld Place after that, and Sirius says, “Do you need me to provide a distraction? Because I can.”

Regulus shakes his head. “I’m going back to Hogwarts tomorrow. What are they going to do to me? Anything more than a slap will draw Grandfather’s ire.”

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll probably see you on the train tomorrow.”

“You probably will,” Regulus replies.

He grabs his robe and puts it on, and then slips inside. He’s hoping to avoid his parents altogether, but if he can’t, he can at least pretend that he hadn’t been in Muggle London.

Of course, if he tries to pretend that he’d been in Diagon Alley, there’s a good chance that someone who knows his parents will have been there this close to the train leaving, and would know that he hadn’t been there.

His father appears in the doorway and looks him up and down. “Where have you been?”

“I went out with Sirius,” Regulus replies, trying not to give anything away.

Some complicated emotion flits over his father’s face. “How is your brother?”

Regulus cocks his head. “Did you know that Sirius is really good at navigating the Muggle world, and that there’s a place close by that has really good meatballs?”

“Who do you think told him about the meatballs?” his father asks. He jerks his head. “Go up to your room.”

It’s a different side of his father than what he normally sees, but he’s beginning to think that he might not know his father at all.

~~~~~

Sirius takes a taxi to the Leaky Cauldron, and orders a butter beer since James and the others aren’t there yet.

He sips his drink and thinks about his time with his brother, even though it had been brief. He hopes that Regulus got in okay, and didn’t have any problems from their parents.

He’s halfway through his drink when James and Lily enter hand-in-hand, followed by the Potters.

James waves at him. “Hey, Pads. Did you have a good night with your brother?”

“Yeah, it was fun,” Sirius replies. “I took him out to dinner in Muggle London, freaked him out a little bit, I think.”

Lily’s eyes widen. “You took Regulus out to Muggle London?”

“It’s good to know how to navigate the Muggle world,” Sirius replies. “It’s a place Death Eaters wouldn’t look.”

James frowns. “Didn’t you tell me once that you first went out to Muggle London because you stole money from your father?”

“I borrowed it,” Sirius protests. “Pretty sure I was due an allowance at least, and our dad left the safe open for me.”

James blinks. “Wait, your father keeps Muggle money around?”

“Where else is he going to go in order to get away from our mother without her knowing about it?” Sirius asks with a grin. “We never went together, but I knew. And he knew that I went out.”

Mr. Potter gives him a look. “Your family dynamics are very complicated, my boy.”

“We’re a family with secrets, Mr. Potter,” Sirius replies, and then tries to change the subject. “But how did your dinner go?”

“Good, I think,” Lily says. “My parents were very grateful that we met them in a more comfortable place for them. James was very charming.”

Sirius smirks. “It is a day ending in y. You just didn’t notice for six years.”

Lily nudges James with her elbow. “Don’t listen to him. You became a lot more charming last year when you started taking things seriously.”

“And now he’s going to be Head Boy,” Mrs. Potter says, beaming. “We’re very proud of both of you, and we couldn’t have had a better time with your parents tonight, Lily.”

Sirius somehow doubts that, but the Potters are masters of politeness, and they wouldn’t say anything else around Lily.

He resolves to ask James about how things had really gone later.

They take the floo from the Leaky Cauldron to the Potters’ house, and the Potters quickly excuse themselves to go to bed. “I think I’m going to head that way myself,” Lily says. “Sorry, James, but I’m tired.”

“No problem,” James replies, giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Sleep well.” He pulls her in for a slightly more lingering kiss.

“You, too,” Lily replies.

He and James retreat to his room, and Sirius asks, “How did things really go tonight?”

“Lily’s parents are really nice, but completely confused about the wizarding world, and what Lily is doing in it,” James replies. “And I’m pretty sure that her sister is incredibly jealous, and that her parents are doing everything in their power not to exacerbate the issue.”

“So, it was awkward,” Sirius says.

“What does one say to their future in-laws when you’re both from completely different worlds?” James counters. “It was fine. I want to hear more about your evening with Reg.”

Sirius notes that James is using his own nickname for his brother. “What’s there to tell? He snuck out of the house, I took him out to eat and to a record store and a corner shop where I bought him Muggle candy—which I very much hope he hides from our mother—and then delivered him back home.”

James gives him a look. “Pads, I thought we shared everything.”

“As your dad said, our family dynamics are complicated,” Sirius replies defensively. “My father was never exactly present, you know? He was around, but my mother was the one who ruled the roost. He never opposed her. He never protected me, but there were times when he’d leave his safe open, and I would find Muggle money in there, and I’d go out and ride the tube, once I figured out how it worked. Or I’d go to the cinema, or out to eat if Mother sent me to bed without dinner. He had to know; he had to have missed the money I took, but he never said anything.”

James stares at him. “Why wouldn’t they just get a divorce?”

“And face the scandal?” Sirius asks. “They won’t divorce for the same reason my mother didn’t kill me when I sorted into Gryffindor, and started showing an interest in Muggles. It would cause an uproar. It’s the same reason I allowed Regulus to return home tonight rather than dragging him back here. He knows and I know that Mother won’t do anything worse than slapping him.

James drags his hands over his face. “You do know how fucked up that is, don’t you?”

“Which is why I stopped going home, and is why Reg formally asked for sanctuary,” Sirius replies. “With me, they could write it off as a rebellious teenager. With Reg, he’s hit them where it hurts. Formal requests for sanctuary go through the Ministry, so even if it doesn’t make the papers, everyone is going to know.”

James gives him a look. “That sucks.”

“So it does,” Sirius says lightly. “But it’s also the hand we were both dealt, and Regulus has handled it better than I did.”

“What are you going to do?” James asks.

“I’m going back to school, I’m going to do well on my NEWTs and make my grandfather proud, and then we’re going to graduate and fight the forces of darkness,” Sirius replies. “That’s it. Maybe we’ll take some time to plan your wedding.”

James glares. “Shut up.”

“You two are cute as a pair of lovebirds,” Sirius replies. “How can I resist?”

“Go to bed, Pads,” James says. “You clearly need your head checked.”

Sirius smirks. “We’ll see.”

The Potters deliver them to the train station about half an hour before they’re due to depart. They go through the portal and say their goodbyes, finding a compartment and stashing their trunks. It’s a repeat of the prior year, because Peter and Remus arrive just before the train is due to leave, and Remus looks hale and hearty, whereas Peter is a bit agitated about the near-daily reports of Death Eater activities in the Daily Wizard.

Next year, at this time, they’ll be settled into their post-graduate lives. “What are you going to do after school, Lily?” Remus asks, as though reading Sirius’ mind.

Lily shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I’ll probably get a job somewhere, or maybe seek a mastery. What about you?”

Remus’ expression is wondering. “I have an offer for an apprenticeship for a position as a ward maker, and that’s all thanks to your grandfather, Pads. I wouldn’t have been able to take it if he hadn’t helped me.”

“I’m glad, Moony,” Sirius replies. “You deserve it.”

“What about you?” Remus asks.

“I think I might take a gap year,” Sirius replies lightly. “See what happens.”

He doesn’t say that he can afford not to work, and to simply live a life of luxury. Not that he plans on doing nothing.

“Same here,” James adds. “We should get a flat together. Moony, are you going to be in London?”

“That’s the plan,” Remus admits.

“We should get one together,” Sirius suggests. “We can share expenses that way. Chores, too. What about you, Peter?”

Peter shakes his head. “I’m hoping to get a Ministry job, but I’ll probably keep living with my parents to save money.”

He looks a bit shifty, but that’s normal for Peter, so Sirius doesn’t think anything of it.

Sirius just has to get through the next year, get through his NEWTs, and then they’ll move on to the next thing.

Chapter Text

Arcturus doesn’t want to go into the Ministry, but he knows that it’s necessary. Regulus deserves to have him make the request for sanctuary in person, and he can’t afford to have people to know about his weakness.

About a week into the school year, Arcturus is having a good day, one where he’s feeling strong, and the cane is just a precaution. On that day, he dresses with care in a black suit, silver tie, and black robes lined with silver. He brings his most ornate cane, which is sturdy and hides a surprise or two to complete the look.

He floos to the Ministry, and he’s immediately greeted by an Auror that he’d gone to school with, a man who shared his pureblood politics. That doesn’t exactly make Arcturus feel better, since he’s well aware that the Ministry is rife with Death Eaters.

“Lord Black,” Myron Bragg says genially. “It’s been too long.”

“Indeed, it has,” Arcturus replies, accepting the outstretched hand. “It’s good to see you again. How is Sarah?”

“The missus is good.” Myron sounds cheerful. “What brings you to the Ministry?”

“I’m here to speak to someone about a formal sanctuary request I received from my grandson,” Arcturus says blandly. “Do you know where I should go?”

Myron blinks. “A sanctuary request? Is this one of Walburga’s boys?”

Arcturus narrows his eyes. “I didn’t realize that you were acquainted with my daughter-in-law.”

Myron flushes. “Let me just show you where to go.”

Arcturus wishes he’d brought someone to watch his back, and he curses himself for the oversight, and then he sees Rockhand entering the Ministry. “One moment,” Arcturus says, and watches as Rockhand submits to the checks and accepts a visitor’s badge. “It seems my account manager has arrived to ensure all is in order.”

“Lord Black,” Rockhand says. “I have another witness coming.”

Smart, Arcturus thinks, because it’s a high crime for a goblin to assault a wizard unless in defense of their own life.

He’s even more surprised to see the current head of the Longbottom house approaching. Arcturus knows that he has a son a few years older than Sirius, and he’s from one of the older pureblood families. Arcturus assumes that Rockhand had known that Longbottom would be willing to stand as a witness for some odd reason.

“I believe you two know each other,” Rockhand says, sounding smug.

“We do,” Longbottom says. “It’s been a while, Arcturus.”

“It has been, Daniel,” Arcturus replies. “How is Augusta?”

“Quite well,” he replies.

“And Frank, right?” Arcturus asks.

Longbottom smiles. “Doing well. He’s showing great promise as an Auror.”

Arcturus had forgotten that Longbottom’s son is an Auror. “You must be very proud.”

“I am,” he replies. “Rockhand tells me that you might need some assistance today.”

“My grandson has made a formal request for sanctuary, which I am honoring,” Arcturus replies. 

“Your heir?”

“His younger brother,” Arcturus corrects.

Longbottom’s eyebrows go straight up. “I didn’t expect that.”

“I don’t ascribe to the theory that a younger son is less important than the heir to a great and noble house,” Arcturus replies. “After all, these are perilous times.”

“Truer words,” Longbottom agrees. 

Myron is noticeably impatient with their small talk, but if he’s friends with Walburga, then Arcturus is no friend of his. “Shall we go?” Myron asks.

“Apologies,” Arcturus says with patent insincerity. “Mr. Longbottom and I haven’t seen each other in quite some time.”

“This way,” Myron replies, clearly disgruntled, which amuses both him and Longbottom.

There’s a small department within the DMLE devoted to the protection of children, and that’s where Myron leads them. The cheerful young woman behind the counter smiles at Arcturus. “What can I do for you today, sir?”

“My grandson has requested sanctuary,” Arcturus replies. “He’s at Hogwarts right now, but I’d like to have this taken care of by the time the summer holiday begins.”

Her bright smile dims slightly. “I see. Do you have proof?”

Arcturus had anticipated this, and so he hands over Regulus’ letter. The woman reads it, and her expression grows stern. “Very good, Lord Black. This should not take long at all. I’ll draw up the petition and send it to you for your signature. You’ll have it tomorrow.”

“I very much appreciate your assistance,” Arcturus replies. “Thank you.”

“Anything to help a child, Lord Black,” she says.

Myron leads them back to the atrium of the Ministry. “Good luck, Lord Black,” Myron says sourly. “Stay safe.”

He wonders if he’s imagining the unstated threat, and he resolves not to return to the Ministry if he can help it. The Death Eaters have made too deep of an inroad there, and he knows that he needs to stay alive as long as he can to ensure that Sirius can take over as Lord Black when he’s gone.

“Would you care to get lunch?” Longbottom asks.

Arcturus hesitates, but the Longbottoms are likely to be good allies for Sirius in the future. “I would be happy to,” he says.

Rockhand nods as he takes his leave of them. “Good. You’re in good hands, Lord Black.”

“Rockhand was quite insistent, you know,” Longbottom comments. “He said you needed someone to watch your back, that the Ministry would be dangerous for you. Based on what that arsehole just said, I think he was probably right. The question is why you didn’t bring backup to begin with.”

Arcturus sighs as they emerge into the fall sunlight. “Because my pride didn’t allow me to consider that I might be in danger, even though I should know better.”

He glances at Longbottom. “Perhaps we would be better off eating somewhere that isn’t in a public location.”

“I know just the spot,” Longbottom replies.

It turns out that the Longbottoms have a townhouse not far from the Ministry where he stays sometimes, and where Frank and his young wife have been living. Their house elf, Mitzy, brings them a lovely spread of finger foods as well as tea for a light lunch.

“I made Regulus promise not to join the Death Eaters,” Arcturus says once they have their tea and plates of food. “So, they might have something against me.”

“Depriving them of a loyal follower?” Longbottom asks. “They might. I know about both your grandsons. I believe Sirius will graduate this year, correct? And Regulus is a couple of years behind him?”

“And Frank is older than Sirius by a couple of years,” Arcturus says with a smile. 

“Frank is an admirer of your grandson and his friends,” Longbottom replies. “He found their pranks very amusing.”

“He was also in Gryffindor,” Arcturus says. “Sirius mentioned Frank and Alice from time to time. I think Alice was close with Lily Evans.”

Longbottom is obviously surprised. “I had no idea you were this informed about your grandsons’ lives.”

“I’ve made myself informed,” Arcturus replies. He studies Longbottom, and then he says, “I’d like to trust you with something, but I haven’t made a habit of trusting anyone other than family, and yet I have discovered rot within my house.”

“Your grandsons were both mistreated,” Longbottom says. “It was an open secret in Gryffindor, at least with regard to Sirius.” He pauses. “The question is why you’ve chosen to be involved now, and I imagine that has something to do with your secret.”

Arcturus sighs. “I’m dying.”

Longbottom huffs. “Yes, well, that will cause a man to rethink his legacy. Why are you telling me?”

“Sirius is my heir, and he’ll need allies when the time comes,” Arcturus replies. “I have no idea how much time I have left.”

“I see,” Longbottom says. “From what I’ve heard about Sirius, I would be happy to do whatever I can for him. Do you know what he’s planning to do after Hogwarts?”

“I don’t,” Arcturus replies. “But neither does he.”

Longbottom nods. “I would be happy to meet with him. He’ll hold the Black seat in the Wizengamot. It’s essentially powerless now, I know, what with the current reign of terror, but I hope that won’t last forever.”

“I hope so, too,” Arcturus replies. “Whatever our political differences, no one should be killed simply because we disagree.”

Longbottom sighs. “It’s too bad that such reason has departed so many.”

“It’s why I tried to safeguard Regulus,” Arcturus replies. “He doesn’t need murder on his soul. No one does.”

“No,” Longbottom agrees. “No one does. Thank you for trusting me, Lord Black.”

“Call me Arcturus,” he invites. “Since we’re apparently going to be friends.”

Longbottom chuckles. “I’m guessing you don’t have many of those.”

Arcturus sighs. “No, I really don’t, but thank you.”

It’s possible that some part of himself that he’d closed off when his wife had died has now been blown wide open.

~~~~~

Regulus takes a drink from the tray that’s circulating through the room, carried by Hogwarts students who want to be part of the Slug Club but don’t have what Slughorn is looking for, or who aren’t important enough to warrant an invitation. As the newly minted Head Boy and Head Girl, James Potter and Lily Evans are also there, as is Sirius. 

His brother is clearly working the room, speaking with everyone who’s shown up—everyone other than Regulus, and any Slytherins who give him the cold shoulder. Everyone else, though, Sirius talks to—and then Regulus notices that James and Lilly are doing the same thing.

What the bloody hell are you planning, brother? Regulus thinks.

As though he senses Regulus’ thoughts, Sirius glances over at him and winks.

Eventually, Sirius does make his way over to Regulus, snagging another butter beer on the way. “Brother.”

“Are you supposed to be talking to me?”

“Oh, I’ll say something insulting before we part so you can punch me in the arm, and we won’t part as friends,” Sirius replies jovially. “And then you can tell everyone that I’m a shit brother.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “That would be hard to sell, because you’re not. But you are up to something.”

“Neutrality,” Sirius says. “We’re working on recruiting people for a third group. Not the Order, not the Death Eaters, but people who look out for each other.”

“Shouldn’t that be me?” Regulus asks.

Sirius smiles. “No, little brother. It should be us, because we’re going to keep the people like you safe—and neutral.”

Regulus blinks, realizing what Sirius is proposing. “A shadow Order?”

“One that Dumbledore needn’t know about,” Sirius replies. “For people like you, and Remus, and others who prefer to stay out of the fray.”

“Smart,” Regulus has to admit. The Slug Club is an excellent place to recruit neutral parties, and to have two of Dumbledore’s golden boys, men who are likely to join the Order of the Phoenix to fight Voldemort promising protection without demanding that they also join…

“Grandfather has taught me to think ahead, at least as much as a brash Gryffindor can,” Sirius teases. “Now, punch me in the arm. It will sell the bit.”

“I’m neutral,” Regulus reminds him. “And people would wonder if you didn’t try to recruit your own brother for the neutral option.”

“You always were the smart one,” Sirius replies. “And you make a good point. So, shall we part as friends?”

Regulus extends his hand. “As friends, then. We’ll show what’s possible.”

Sirius clasps his hand. “Tell Violet I said hello.”

“I will,” Regulus replies.

Sirius drifts away after that, and one of the other Slytherins comes over. Regulus knows that Thomas is unmarked, but sympathetic to the Death Eaters. “What were you doing, talking to that blood traitor?”

“He’s my brother,” Regulus replies. “Of course, he’s going to try and recruit me.”

“You parted as friends,” Thomas replies.

“We parted as brothers who are sharing our grandfather’s roof and tutelage, as Sirius is the heir and I’m the second choice,” Regulus replies. “But our grandfather is treating me as though I’m just as important as the heir.”

Thomas’ expression relaxes at that. “He might think you’re more likely to take over, since your brother is going to get himself killed. He’s no match for the Dark Lord.”

“Who is?” Regulus replies lightly. “There are ways to work for a common end that don’t involve taking the mark, you know. We can do what we need to do through other means.”

“Spoken like a weakling,” Thomas scoffs. “And not as a scion of an Ancient and Noble House.”

“And what if the Dark Lord loses?” Regulus counters. “He could, you know, and those of us who remain unmarked will  be able to show ourselves in polite society.”

“You’re delusional,” Thomas says flatly. “Those who aren’t for us are against us, and we’ll remember this.”

Regulus smirks. “And I’ll remember your very friendly threats. Go away, Thomas. You have a small mind, and I have no idea why you’re even here.”

Thomas stalks off, and Lily says from behind him, “That was well handled.” 

Regulus turns. “I didn’t think we talked.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t talk,” Lily counters. “Can you tell me, is Severus marked?”

Regulus hesitates. “Yes. He is. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your choice,” Lily replies. “And it’s not your fault.”

But her smile is sad, and Regulus has heard Snape talk about her before, although as time has gone by, his tone has turned from admiring to contemptuous. He’s been particularly harsh since Lily started dating James Potter.

“You should watch your back around him, though,” Regulus warns her. “He hasn’t been particularly kind of late and he hates Potter.”

“I’m aware,” Lily says. “The last time we actually spoke, he called me a Mudblood, so I think I know where we stand.”

Regulus likes Lily, in spite of the unfortunate fact that she’s Muggle-born. She’s hard not to like, as smart and pretty as she is. He feels a little uncomfortable admitting that, even just to himself.

“Good luck this year, Regulus,” Lily says.

“You, too,” Regulus replies, knowing that she will be taking her NEWTs along with the rest of the seventh years. He’s due to take his OWLs, so it’s an important year for both him and Sirius. 

Within the first month of school starting, Regulus can already see the differences. A number of the marked Death Eaters decided not to come back for their seventh year, and it seems as though fewer of those going into sixth year are actually marked.

And the ones who are marked seem more interested in hanging out with each other and ignoring everyone else than messing with those not marked. 

When no one tries to curse him in the back, Regulus starts to think that something has drastically changed. 

“Have you noticed the lack of hostility this year?” Regulus asks Violet when they’re alone in the library one day.

“Postponed, I think,” Violet muses. “They probably were instructed not to get themselves expelled this year to better spy on everyone.”

Regulus frowns. “Are there fewer of them than there were before?” 

“I’m not sure,” Violet hedges, pushing her dark hair behind her ears. “Not all of those who were marked noised it about. Maybe some of those here want to keep it quiet so they can spy on us and others.”

Regulus is amused. “Are you paranoid?”

“No, I’m cautious,” Violet replies. “For every idiot Death Eater, there are at least a couple of smart ones.”

Regulus knows that’s true enough. “Better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

“You know as well as I do that we’d wind up dead if those arsholes realize that we’re actively recruiting people away from You-Know-Who, even if it’s not for the light,” Violet replies in a hissing breath.

Regulus does know, which is why Sirius and James insist on being the face of the recruitment process. “We really should find a place to work on the practical aspects of our spells. They test both theory and practical on our OWLs,” she adds, changing the subject.

Regulus hesitates, thinking about the Room of Requirement, but it wouldn’t do to have too many people knowing about it, and they’ll likely invite Elias, Byron and Myra, as well as any other students who wish to practice—assuming they aren’t complete arseholes.

“We should talk to Professor Slughorn about using an empty classroom,” Regulus suggests. “There might be others studying for their OWLs who will want to join.”

Over the next few weeks, they gather a group of students, including a handful of Gryffindors and two other Slytherins. They’re all studying for their OWLs, and while there’s a spirit of friendly competition, they mostly just want to do well. Helping each other to improve their own skills is pure self-interest.

At least for some. For others, there’s a genuine spirit of camaraderie and wanting to help their fellow students.

It’s a pocket of calm in a sea of chaos. Maybe there are no more than 20 students at any given session, but at least they’re friendly to each other during their practice, and do no worse than ignore each outside of it.

Inside Hogwarts, Dumbledore’s promise of safety holds true, at least for them.

~~~~~

“Sirius, did you know about this?” Peter hisses as he reads the Daily Prophet. “It’s not front page news, but it’s on page three.”

The story is buried beneath various stories about Death Eater attacks, missing persons, and deaths, as well as some attacks on Muggles, some vandalism.

The Ministry has proven itself completely ineffective—but that had been part of the strategy, Sirius knows.

The inability of Ministry members to keep a secret, or maintain any sort of security, means that his brother’s sanctuary request has been leaked to the paper. Sirius knows Regulus and his grandfather assumed this would happen. The timing of the leak—right before the Christmas holiday—could not be better if the intention was to garner attention and cause their parents maximum embarrassment.

“I had some inkling,” Sirius admits in a low voice. “I was treating it as a private family matter, though.”

James and Lily had known, of course, but that’s because they’d been around after his dinner with Reg in London. 

Peter subsides a bit at that, but he says, “He’s staining the family honor, though.”

Sirius frowns at him. “No, my parents did that when my mother used physical violence against him, and forbade Regulus from marrying Violet when the family patriarch had approved the match. My brother did the honorable thing, and the Ministry leaked it to the papers.”

“He could have just stayed with your grandfather without making it formal!” Peter protests.

Sirius has no idea where Peter is going with this. “And my parents could have insisted on a visit, or even that he stay with them over Christmas or the summer holidays. Regulus wanted the security.”

“You never did it,” Peter replies, his voice rising hotly.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Wormtail, okay?” Sirius demands. “Drop the subject.”

Sirius shoves his breakfast plate away, no longer hungry. “We have some time before the first class, and I wanted to look something up.”

He can hear James ask, “What the hell, Wormtail?””

Remus is the one to follow him, and he says, “James will get it out of him.”

“I don’t care,” Sirius replies stubbornly. “Why is it any of his business anyway?”

Remus blows out a breath. “Yeah, well, maybe you haven’t noticed, but Peter has been weirdly fixated on your relationship with your grandfather.”

“Okay, I had noticed,” Sirius admits. “But I thought that was just his ambition.”

“It is his ambition, but he also knows what kind of a benefactor your grandfather could be,” Remus says. “Or that the Black family could be.”

Sirius pulls Remus aside. “Does this have something to do with the charm?”

“It’s expensive,” Remus replies. “And you know that.”

Sirius shakes his head. “No offense, Moony, but you know that wasn’t about you. It was about getting on my good side and keeping me safe. You don’t owe him anything.”

“I know I don’t,” Remus replies. “And I know why your grandfather is making an effort now. My own grandfather died when I was ten.”

Sirius scrubs his hands over his face. “So, Peter?”

“Peter knows how much it costs, and he thinks that I’m getting a favor I didn’t deserve, and that he does, or at least he deserves the same opportunity,” Remus replies.

Sirius shakes his head. “He’s an animagus, and you’re a werewolf. My grandfather gave you control over your own body; he didn’t do you a favor, or help you get ahead.”

“I have the apprenticeship.”

“Through your own hard work,” Sirius argues. “Grandfather might have removed an impediment, but you wouldn’t have the opportunity if you hadn’t earned it.”

“Some would argue otherwise, and the fact remains that he did me a favor and has done nothing for Peter,” Remus replies.

“He’s hosted him two summers in a row,” Sirius argues. “He’s been kind.”

“I know,” Remus says. “But you have the Black family name, and the family fortune to fall back on, and you know how wizarding society is. The name and the money will get you further than raw talent or brains oftentimes.”

Sirius does know that, which is why he tries to avoid thinking about it, or flaunting it if he can. About the closest he’s come is to invite his friends to stay at Black Manor.

“Come on,” Remus adds. “You made up the excuse. We might as well fulfill it.”

They go to the library, and Sirius does get the book on Ancient Runes that he wants to take home with him over the Christmas holiday. The end of the school year might seem far away, and maybe he doesn’t need to do well on his NEWTs strictly speaking.

But he wants to; he wants to make his grandfather proud.

After their first class of the day, James pulls Sirius aside. “Peter has some strange ideas about what it meant for your brother to request sanctuary. I think he’s straightened out now.”

“He does realize that our grandfather is the actual head of our house?” Sirius asks. “And that I’ll be the head of house when he’s gone?”

James claps him on the shoulder. “He does now. Don’t worry about it, Pads. He had some odd idea that this would harm you and Regulus somehow, but I convinced him otherwise.”

There’s something about the whole thing that doesn’t sit right with Sirius, but he pushes it aside. If Peter wants to be weird about the Black family business, that’s on him. There’s only one more term left, then their NEWTs. Peter will probably go to some low-level job at the Ministry, whereas he and James are planning on joining the Order. They have the luxury of not needing to get a job, and being able to help the war effort.

With Remus getting an apprenticeship, Sirius doubts that they’ll be seeing much of each other after they’re finished with school.

Most of the time Sirius tries not to think about that fact, but there are times when the knowledge hits him, and this is one of those times.

He feels a little cool towards Peter after all that, though, and he knows that probably shows. He spends more time with James and Remus, and more time studying and at Quidditch practice. Sirius doesn’t mind any of that, though. They plan on winning the house cup for Gryffindor this year, and so far they’re on their way, having won their first match against Slytherin.

While Sirius and Regulus might be friendly off the pitch, they’re just as competitive during the games, and Reg is an excellent Seeker. It just turns out that James is slightly better.

Which Sirius ribs Regulus about over their first dinner back with their grandfather over the Christmas break.

Regulus glares at him. “Slytherin is going to take the house cup next year, you know. Potter won’t be around, and there aren’t any Seekers in the other years who are nearly as good.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Sirius replies cheerfully. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t get the cup this year.”

“Boys,” Arcturus says, sounding rather amused. “Sirius, it’s not nice to bait your brother.”

Sirius shrugs unrepentantly. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“A sore winner is no more attractive than a sore loser, Sirius,” his grandfather says. “And he’s your brother. Keep your taunts for the Quidditch pitch.”

Sirius nods. “Yes, Grandfather.”

He lets that go, and he knows that he’s going to need to speak with his grandfather about what had happened with Peter, and what he should expect.

“Good,” Arcturus says. “Black Manor is supposed to be a safe zone for everyone who comes here, and that includes the two of you, and it means you need to be safe from each other, too.”

Sirius feels the sting of rebuke, and he has to acknowledge that his grandfather has a point. “Sorry, Reg.”

Regulus nods stiffly. “It’s already forgiven, brother.”

Sirius realizes that he’s made a serious misstep. “I am sorry. Grandfather is right. Hogwarts houses have no place here, and I was wrong to bring that rivalry up now.”

Regulus’ expression softens completely. “Thank you.”

After dinner, Regulus declares that he’s tired and ready for bed, but Sirius says, “I’d like to speak with you.”

Arcturus gives him a long look. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that you were baiting your brother over dinner?”

“Maybe,” Sirius admits. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Let’s retire to the study, then,” Arcturus says. “And you can explain it to me.”

Sirius feels a little bit of reluctance, following his grandfather into the study, knowing that he’s disappointed him. “I’m really sorry,” he says as they sit down.

Cordy brings him a butter beer and his grandfather a fire whiskey.

“What are you sorry for, my boy?” Arcturus asks him.

“I’m sorry for making Regulus think this wasn’t a safe place for him,” Sirius says immediately, because he understands his grandfather’s earlier warning. Black Manor is supposed to be a safe place. He’d undermined that for his brother, and he hates that. “I should never have—“

“Stop.” Arcturus’ voice rings out authoritatively. “You were teasing your brother. That’s something that brothers do. You didn’t hurt him, and you apologized for any harm you may have caused. But that’s not why you did it.”

Sirius manages a smile. “Also, I really wanted to give him a hard time.”

Arcturus smiles in return. “Of course. You wouldn’t be human if you hadn’t.” He clears his throat. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

Slowly, Sirius explains what has happened with Peter, and the strange reaction to Regulus’ request for sanctuary leaking.

“What bothers you about it?” Arcturus asks. “And really think about it before you answer.”

Sirius takes another sip of his butter beer. “You gave Remus that charm, but he decided to take the apprenticeship. He knows you did that to protect me, and he’s grateful, but he doesn’t want to be beholden.”

“It’s one of the reasons I was willing to do that for him,” Arcturus replies. “It wasn’t just about you.”

Sirius nods. “Peter resents the favor he thinks you did for Remus, and he wants you to do something for him, too. He’s looking at me like he can get that out of me. He never used to do that.”

“He knew you as someone who may end up disowned, who couldn’t offer him anything,” Arcturus counters. “He probably fawned after James.”

Sirius is reevaluating the last few years of his life. “Yeah. He did.”

“What made you realize that?” Arcturus asks. “Because you need to be able to recognize this, my boy. Pettigrew might be the first to trigger that response, but he won’t be the last.”

Sirius really thinks about it. “It was Remus. He got an apprenticeship, and he was happy about that. He’s not joining the Order.”

“And the reason for that?”

Sirius shakes her head. “I’m not sure, but I think it has something to do with the charm.”

“He would either have to leave it behind and transform if Dumbledore sends him to the packs, or he would have to disclose why he didn’t transform,” Arcturus replies. “I doubt they’d follow him if he didn’t spend at least one full moon with them.”

The reality hits Sirius hard. “His parents told him not to tell anyone about the charm. He can’t join the Order.”

“No, he can’t,” Arcturus agrees. “Especially since Dumbledore won’t think about utilizing him in some other way. What about Peter?”

The amorphous feelings coalesce into a bone-deep realization. “He’s more interested in what he can get, rather than what he can give, in any given relationship.”

“Good,” Arcturus says approvingly. “I’m glad you recognized that on your own, without me having to point it out.”

Sirius scrubs his hands over his face. “What do I do?”

“You keep your distance,” Arcturus replies. “But I imagine you’ve started doing that already.”

“I have been,” Sirius admits. “I’m sorry. I just—they were my brothers.”

Arcturus sighs. “I do not want you to become paranoid, Sirius, but understand that everyone can change, and even turn on you. It doesn’t matter if they’re family by blood or not.”

Sirius shakes his head. “James never would.”

Arcturus visibly hesitates. “No, James is capable of standing on his own two feet, and Remus has the desire to do so. Peter has shown himself incapable of both.”

“Merlin’s pants,” Sirius breaths out. He hates this. He hates doubting his friends, but he knows the current atmosphere just feeds into it. Who can anyone trust these days?

“That’s why it’s so important that you both feel safe here,” Arcturus adds. “I’m glad you understand that.”

“I do,” Sirius replies. And now he’s going to have to try to avoid Peter.

But maybe it’s worth it.

~~~~~

Arcturus is glad that whatever upset Sirius caused by teasing Regulus passes quickly. His sincere apology smooths over most of the ruffled feathers, and time does the rest. This year, Arcturus gives Sirius the keys to an apartment in London that should be his by right of being heir. He doesn’t want to show any favoritism, so he offers Regulus the same. There’s a place in Paris that the Black family holds.

“I don’t understand,” Regulus says.

“When you leave Hogwarts, it will be harder for them to reach you if you’re not in the country,” Arcturus replies. “I can arrange for both you and Violet to obtain your masteries in whatever subject you would like.”

“You want us out of the country,” Regulus says bluntly.

“I want you out of danger,” Arcturus replies. “And I’m sure your brother would like the same.”

“I do,” Sirius replies. “You have a few more years at Hogwarts, but I would love you to be safe after that.”

Regulus stares at the key in his hand, and then he glances at Arcturus. “Thank you.”

“There’s no need for you to put yourself in danger,” Arcturus adds. “And the violence hasn’t really spilled out over the Continent yet.”

Regulus turns the key over, and stares at it for a long moment. “I should start brushing up on my French, then. Perhaps I’ll seek my mastery there.”

“What were you thinking?” Sirius asks. “Charms? Potions? Something else?”

“I don’t know yet,” Regulus admits. “I’ll have to think it over.”

“I think that’s wise,” Arcturus replies. “Once you’ve made up your mind, I’ll contact the right people.”

He’s glad that Regulus is thinking about the future and making plans. If he can just keep Regulus safely at a distance after he gets out of Hogwarts, he’ll have that much more peace of mind.

Maybe that’s an overabundance of caution, but if he’s beyond the reach of the Death Eaters, he’ll be safer. There’s no chance that he could convince Sirius to do the same thing, so he’ll be grateful that one of his grandsons is willing to take himself off the playing field.

Regulus chuckles. “You’re just saying that because you know that Sirius is too much of a Gryffindor to run away.”

“I trust that your brother will be as cautious as he can be,” Arcturus replies. “And that you will do everything to safeguard the Black line.”

Regulus smile broadens. “I think he’s suggesting that you’re a total Gryffindor, brother.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Sirius readily admits. “If I weren’t, I’d probably be heading to America to do a mastery in something, or ask for hit wizard training with the ICW.”

“That is not staying out of trouble,” Arcturus says, feeling unwillingly amused.

“But hit wizards are notoriously hard to kill,” Sirius points out with a cheeky grin. “That would be safeguarding the Black line.”

Hit wizard training takes months, if not years, and if Arcturus thought he could get away with it, he would send Sirius for training in a heartbeat. Sirius would be safer there anyway.

“If I sent you there, would you go?” Arcturus asks.

There’s a moment of hesitation on Sirius’ part. “If it weren’t for James, I might, but he’ll stay. So will Lily.”

Arcturus sees his opening. “I understand, Sirius, but if there ever comes a point where they need sanctuary, Black Manor will be that for them, for your sake.”

Sirius’ smile is bright. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

After the boys go back to Hogwarts, Arcturus hosts Rockhand again. The goblin gives him a look over his cup of tea. “Your boys are keeping our seers very active, you know.”

Arcturus takes a sip of his own tea. “They’re very active boys.”

“The seers believe that Regulus is safe enough, although there are circumstances where that could certainly change,” Rockhand says. “Your heir’s future is a little more uncertain, though.”

Arcturus sighs. “I’m not surprised.”

“They aren’t sure why his future is so murky, but it has to do with a child, and the possibility of ending the current war,” Rockhand replies. “You will need to be very careful.”

Arcturus nods. “Of course. We will do what we can. Thank you for the update.”

He exchanges letters with the boys through the rest of the school year, pleased when Sirius and Regulus both win their Quidditch matches—except for the one they play against each other. All through second term, Slytherin and Gryffindor are neck-and-neck in their battle for the house cup, the outcome hinging on the final house points at the end of the year.

Gryffindor wins, but only by twenty points, and Arcturus enjoys the vying viewpoints in their letters.

After their end of year examinations, the boys return to the manor. Arcturus has lined up the same tutors again. Sirius and the rest of his friends are all waiting on the results of their NEWTs before moving on to the next phase of their lives.

Sirius plans on moving to the London flat and joining the Order once his results come back, with both James and Remus living with him. The flat is a good size, and Arcturus certainly doesn’t mind Sirius’ friends deciding to stay with him. He’s just glad that Sirius has carried through with his decision to distance himself from Pettigrew.

Although Sirius returns to Black Manor without any of his friends, Regulus brings Violet and the rest of his.

Sirius is civil, but he’s also clearly focused on other matters. He shows up to all of his dueling lessons, and practices in between. He brews potions in the potions lab in the basement of Black Manor. He reads various tomes on wards and defenses, anything he can find in the Black family library.

Sirius questions him carefully about the wards around Black Manor, and how they were constructed and when. 

“Is Sirius acting strangely?” Regulus asks him on a rare night when the two of them were alone, after his friends had gone home, and when Sirius had taken an early night.

“He’s acting like a man gearing up for war,” Arcturus says heavily. “I suppose that’s strange enough, given that he’s not even shaving regularly yet.”

Regulus appears troubled. “Do you think I’m wrong for not wanting to go to war?”

“You know I don’t,” Arcturus replies. “No one should be forced to participate in a war they don’t believe in.”

Regulus hesitates. “What if I do believe in it?”

“Regulus—“

“I think Voldemort is doing irreparable damage to pureblood politics,” Regulus says forthrightly. “No one is going to take us seriously, assuming he loses, and I don’t want to live in a world where he wins, and is allowed to continue to murder innocents.”

Arcturus forces himself to take Regulus’ words seriously, and not respond in a knee-jerk fashion. “Then perhaps instead of Potions, you should consider a mastery in law, where you can protect pureblood values and everyone else alike.”

Regulus relaxes at that. “Perhaps I will, Grandfather.”

Arcturus isn’t looking forward to Sirius getting his NEWT results, because that will just mean that whatever is left of his childhood is over.

But when his NEWT results do arrive, Arcturus couldn’t be prouder. Sirius opens the letter that arrives over breakfast, swallowing as he reads the results, and then he hands it to Arcturus.

Arcturus scans it quickly and feels the smile forming on his face. “Sirius, my boy, congratulations. O’s in every subject but charms, and an E in that one. You could do just about anything with these results.”

“They’ll be just as good in a few years when we’ve defeated Voldemort,” Sirius replies with a pleased smile. “And then I can do anything I’d like.”

Arcturus is relieved to hear that Sirius has plans for the future. It means that he doesn’t plan to throw his life away. “What do you think you’d like to do?”

Sirius shrugs. “I don’t know. Not the Ministry, or the Aurors. But I want to do something that matters.”

“You’ll find your way,” Arcturus says confidently.

“There’s always your ward work, brother,” Regulus says. “Your ancient runes and arithmancy skills are top notch.”

Sirius shoots him a look. “I spoke to the others, and they agreed to let you inherit the map.”

Arcturus frowns. “What map is this?”

“You should show him,” Regulus insists. “Wait until you see it, Grandfather.”

Sirius hesitates. “The others helped a lot.”

“It’s still brilliant,” Regulus insists.

“I’ll be right back,” Sirius replies. “I need to give it to you anyway.”

Arcturus waits until Sirius is out of earshot before asking, “What is this, Regulus?”

“It’s a project that Sirius and his friends worked on to help Remus,” Regulus explains. “Snape had been following them around, trying to get them into trouble, and they needed a way to make sure the coast was clear. I found out about it when Sirius used it to make sure that we weren’t going to be caught meeting together.”

“It was a joint project,” Sirius says as he comes back into the room. “James and Remus especially helped, but I will admit that it probably helped us do really well on our OWLs. If Hogwarts really wanted students to do well, they’d encourage independent projects like this one.”

Arcturus watches with interest as Sirius unfolds a piece of parchment, and then he taps it with his wand and says, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

A map of Hogwarts begins to bleed out onto the paper, complete with little markers that show the locations of the professors who had apparently remained at the castle for the summer. As Arcturus watches, the names move around the map, and Arcturus can’t resist the urge to touch.

There are no raised lines, nothing that would give anything away just by touching, It’s an incredible piece of magic, especially considering how old the creators had been at the time.

“How do you safeguard it?” Arcturus asks.

Sirius grins and taps the map again with his wand. “Mischief managed.”

The map clears.

“And what happens if someone tries to use it who doesn’t use the code phrase?” Arcturus asks.

Sirius shrugs. “Try it.”

Arcturus pulls out his own wand and taps the map. “Revelio.”

Ink seems to swirl, and words form. Mssrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs cordially invite you to bugger right off.

Arcturus can’t help but bark a laugh at the cheek. “Oh, Sirius. This is a stroke of genius!”

Sirius blushes brightly. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Arcturus replies.

“Come on, brother, you have no need for false modesty,” Regulus cajoles.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “It was just a lark, really, and an attempt to keep Remus safe. Something we didn’t need as much after Remus had the charm. Although we still used the map, since Remus’ parents didn’t want Dumbledore to know about the charm.”

Arcturus taps the map with one finger. “This sort of work is remarkable, Sirius. You could easily set up your own research group, or join the Department of Mysteries.”

Sirius’ smile is pleased and shy. “It’s all something to think about.” He takes the map and passes it to Regulus. “Try not to lose it. I hate to let it go, but—you’ll have need of it more than we will.”

“I’ll keep it safe,” Regulus promises. “And I’ll give it back to you once we’ve graduated.”

“Thanks,” Sirius replies. “I hope you get as much use out of it as we did.”

Regulus tucks the map into his robe reverently. “Thank you.”

Arcturus isn’t sure that Sirius will tell him, but he asks, “Where do the nicknames come from?”

Sirius coughs. “Ah, well. I could probably get in trouble if you knew.”

“Family business remains family business,” Arcturus says firmly. “If you’re willing to tell me, your brother and I will hold your secret as dear as our own.”

Sirius hesitates. “I’m Padfoot. Remus is Moony, probably for obvious reasons. James is Prongs, and Peter is Wormtail.” He stands up. “We found our animagus forms so we could keep Remus company during the full moon. It wasn’t necessary in the end, but I think our forms might come in handy during the war.”

And then he transforms, and in his grandson’s place is a large, black dog that could easily be mistaken for a Grim.

Unless, of course, it is a Grim. Arcturus makes a note to make careful inquiries with the goblins to see if it means something.

“Merlin’s pants,” Regulus breathes. “You look like a Grim!”

Sirius transforms back and offers an eloquent shrug. “I don’t think I am, but I’m not sure I’d know either way. James is a stag, and Peter is a rat.”

Arcturus has never done the work to find his form, but he says, “They say the form reflects the person.”

Sirius glances at his grandfather. “I would believe it.”

“How did you do it?” Regulus asks. “I think it would be helpful.”

Sirius hesitates. “Well, we have a little time before you go back to school. We can work on it until then.”

“I thought you were going to move into your flat,” Regulus says.

Sirius smirks. “Yeah, I am, but I can apparate now. I don’t mind helping you.”

Arcturus is glad to see the renewed closeness between the boys. It gives him hope.

~~~~~

Regulus sits down in front of Sirius with a feeling of trepidation. He wants to be able to transform. Although being an unregistered animagus comes with its own risks, and is technically illegal, it’s only subject to a fine if discovered. 

But the advantages to being an animagus in the current situation, when no one knows your form, certainly make the risk worth it.

“Relax,” Sirius tells him. “You remember what I said about meditating?”

“I remember,” Regulus replies. “I tried meditating last night, but I think I might be terrible at it.”

“It takes practice,” Sirius says. “Keep working at it and you’ll get there. It took me about six months of meditating to find my form, and then a little longer in order to transform. The meditation exercises will help you if you’re around those who practice legilimency.”

Regulus knows that his brother has a point, and he nods. “I’ll keep working on it.”

“Okay,” Sirius replies. “Then we’re going to work on that, and I’m going to walk you through the meditation exercises. Maybe it helps, but if it doesn’t, you’ll have to work on it on your own.”

“I understand,” Regulus replies.

But it turns out that Sirius’ voice is soothing, and Regulus finds that it’s easier to meditate with Sirius guiding him. 

“Imagine yourself in a safe place,” Sirius says. “Where are you?”

Regulus has his eyes closed. “In an empty classroom with Violet.”

“Good,” Sirius replies. “Is it day or night?”

“I can see the afternoon sunlight,” Regulus says.

“Feel that light on your face,” Sirius urges. “Breathe in the smells of the classroom, Violet’s perfume. You’re completely safe.”

Regulus knows that he is, because he’s with Sirius, and Sirius is guiding him. 

“Now, from that place, imagine that you’re in an empty field,” Sirius says. “You’re still safe, you’re still secure.”

“I’m with you,” Regulus says slowly. “Of course I’m safe.”

There’s a pause. “Thank you. Now, you’re in the field, and there’s an animal coming to meet you. It might not happen this time. You might not see anything, but if you keep trying, it will.”

Regulus thinks that he does see something, a shadow at least, and the shadow comes from above.

Regulus looks up, but is blinded by the sun. He can’t see what’s above him, and then he’s thrown out of the meditation.

“You all right?” Sirius asks.

Regulus shrugs. “I don’t know. I saw a shadow of a bird flying overhead. It might not have meant anything.”

“It means something,” Sirius insists. “It means you probably have a bird form. It wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

Regulus frowns. “Why?”

“You’re fiercely independent, smart, and cunning,” Sirius says frankly. “You could have had a snake form, of course, and that would have fit, too, but it tells me that you want to be free.”

Regulus swallows hard. “I talked to Grandfather about joining the war. I don’t want Voldemort to win.”

“He killed Violet’s sister and her husband and child,” Sirius replies. “That child would have been your family. I would think less of you if you didn’t feel that way. But you’re a good man, so you do feel it, and you still have an obligation to our family. You have Violet, Reg. She’s great. You’re the future of the Black line, okay?”

Regulus feels a spike of alarm. “No, I’m the backup. You’re the heir.”

“And you’re also perfectly capable of serving in that function should the need arise,” Sirius counters. “I’m not saying that it will. I’m not planning on it. And I hope you won’t do yourself the disservice of calling yourself the spare. I have James and Remus, and we’re close, but you’re my brother. You’re the one who’s going to keep me honest about pureblood politics. Assuming I survive all of this, I’m going to need you. You and Violet.”

Regulus realizes that he’s sincere, and that his brother is laying out his plan for the future. “Siri…”

“I’m proud of you,” Sirius says. “I’m glad that you care about innocent lives, and that you’ve come around to thinking beyond our own upbringing.”

“Grandfather helped with that,” Regulus admits.

“I think we can both acknowledge that we were heading down very different paths before Grandfather stuck his nose in,” Sirius says with a cheeky grin. “And we can both be very thankful for it.”

Regulus nods. “What do you recommend I do with the meditation?”

“Ask Violet to help you,” Sirius replies. “She may or may not have the aptitude, but she definitely has the determination, and she’ll keep you on track.”

“It might be hard to meditate with her around,” Regulus admits.

Sirius laughs. “She is very pretty. If it becomes a problem, switch things up. But I strongly suspect that she’s going to keep you focused, and you made good progress today. Even just knowing that your form has wings is progress, believe it or not, and more than we knew even after a month of trying.”

“It’s going to be weird going back to Hogwarts without you,” Regulus admits.

Sirius smiles gently. “I know. It’s going to be weird not going back. Have you decided what you’re going to take after your OWLs?”

Regulus’ OWL results had been similar to Sirius’ NEWTs: almost all O’s with one E in Arithmancy. At the moment, the sky is the limit for Regulus.

“I’m going to take a full load,” he admits. “And then I may pare down after sixth year.”

Sirius nods. “Smart. That will ensure that you have no shortage of choices.”

Regulus realizes that he’s going to miss his brother, even though they rarely interact at school. “You’ll be careful, right?”

Sirius flashes a quick, bright grin. “Careful as I can be.”

But Regulus is afraid that he won’t be careful enough.

~~~~~

Sirius grins as he looks around the flat his grandfather had given him. As befitting a Black property, it’s well appointed with antique furniture and freshly papered walls. James throws an arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “When you said your grandfather gave you a flat for Christmas, I didn’t think it would be this nice.”

Sirius laughs. “I’m a Black, Prongs. Grandfather was going to ensure that I had appropriate lodgings, and he doesn’t mind who ends up staying with me.”

“It is really nice,” Remus says. “Are you sure you won’t accept rent?”

“I’m not paying rent, am I?” Sirius counters. “Why on earth would I accept rent when this place was a gift to me?”

Remus grimaces. “Still, I am making a decent income from my apprenticeship.”

“And if I were paying rent on this place, I would accept your contribution,” Sirius says firmly. “But since I’m not, I won’t.”

Remus still appears a little troubled. “But you didn’t make Peter the same offer.”

“Peter already had a place lined up by the time I made the offer,” Sirius replies lightly, as though he hadn’t hesitated just for that hope. Once Peter announced that he had found a flat on his own, and knowing that James and Remus hadn’t found lodgings yet, he’d made the offer.

He doesn’t say that Remus is appropriately grateful, and isn’t going to try to use his connection with the Ancient and Noble House of Black to his own ends. Peter will try to do just that.

Remus and James both shoot him knowing looks. “Is this about how weird Peter was about your brother asking for sanctuary?”

“It’s partly that,” Sirius agrees. “And it’s partly that he’d try to use his connection to my grandfather.”

“You can’t blame him for that,” Remus replies, although his tone is dubious. “He just wants to get ahead.”

“Like you’re doing?” Sirius asks. “I don’t blame him, but I’m not going to put myself in a position to be used either.”

“Fair enough,” James says, his definitive tone putting an end to the topic. Sirius figures that if anyone understands why Sirius wouldn’t want to be used for his money and connections, it would be James. 

Not that he would say as much to Moony, of course.

“We’ll have to brush up on our domestic spells,” Remus says. “My mum taught me how to cook, but it’s been a while.”

Sirius is grateful for the subject change. “I scouted the area around us. There are plenty of take away places.”

“Pretty sure that Lily would appreciate James knowing how to make at least the basics,” Remus teases.

James snorts. “She’s already said that I’m crazy if I assume she’s going to do more than half the household chores, including cooking. So, I’d better learn, right?”

“You’d better,” Sirius replies. “Unless you want to be sleeping on the couch.”

“I’ll pass on that,” James counters. “But I trust that you two will eat my shitty cooking until I perfect the art.”

“Sure, we will,” Remus says. “But I can’t promise that it will be without complaints.”

“How will I get better?” James asks. “But I might ask for your help, Moony.”

“Happy to give it,” he replies. “In the interest in promoting a happy household later.”

“This is going to be great,” Sirius insists. “And we should unpack, because we all have a busy day tomorrow.”

He and James are reporting to their main contact in the Order tomorrow, and Remus has his first day of his apprenticeship. 

“We’ll get take away tonight,” James says. “Might as well celebrate our first night on our own.”

They get a curry that night, after they’ve unpacked and settled into their respective rooms. Sirius takes the main bedroom, the one that the head of the house would have taken when staying in London for the Wizengamot sessions, or doing business.

The other two bedrooms are nice, serviceable, but nothing terribly fancy. Nicer than Remus could afford, for sure, but James could probably do just as well.

“I think the bedroom is nicer than the one I had at home,” Remus says that night over curry. “Thank you, Pads.”

Sirius frowns at him. “Moony, for the last time, there are no thanks necessary. My grandfather gave me this place, and it has three bedrooms. What am I going to do, rattle around this place by myself?”

“You could have,” James points out.

“And I didn’t want to,” Sirius counters. “I have a place, and I have friends. That’s enough for me.”

The next day, they meet with Frank Longbottom and his wife, Alice, who are both Aurors and members of the Order. Frank greets them both with handshakes. “Dumbledore has spoken highly of you both. Thank you for being here today.”

“Thank you for meeting with us,” Alice says. “I know there are other things you could be doing.”

“Not really, no,” Sirius says. “The best thing we can do right now is to stop the Death Eaters.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Alice replies. “We have a few protection jobs that the Ministry won’t fund.”

“We’d be happy to,” James says.

And that begins a lot of jobs that the Ministry won’t support, that largely involve protection details and hunting down Death Eaters. They don’t see much of Remus, who is usually gone before they wake up, and doesn’t get back until late. Whenever they do see him, though, he has a smile on his face and a spring to his step.

Dumbledore asks about Remus during one of the Order meetings, pulling Sirius and James aside afterward. “I thought we’d see Remus here.”

“He’s busy with his apprenticeship,” Sirius replies.

Dumbledore frowns. “I was rather hoping that Remus would be willing to approach the werewolf packs on behalf of the light.”

“Remus is focused on his studies right now, and thinks that’s how he can best serve,” James replies.

They honor Remus’ wishes and say nothing about the charm, or anything more about what Remus is doing now. Sirius and James both know that Remus might decide to participate in individual missions as time allows, but he’s not going to join the Order and place himself at Dumbledore’s mercy. It’s too much of a risk.

Dumbledore seems troubled by that, but he doesn’t press for more information, for which Sirius is grateful.

“What did he want?” Lily asks as they leave.

“He wanted to know where Moony was,” James replies, putting an arm around her shoulders. “We told him not to worry about it.”

“I was a little surprised that he decided not to join,” Lily admits.

Sirius shakes his head. “He doesn’t want to be asked to go to the werewolf packs.”

“That makes sense.” Lily shakes her head. “It’s not like Remus knows that many other werewolves.”

Sirius is fairly certain that Remus doesn’t know any other werewolves, and part of that is because his grandfather’s gift has allowed Remus to fly under the radar.

James and Lily are asked to take an assignment guarding a family of Muggle-borns, and Sirius gets a surveillance mission to watch a known Death Eater to see if they could identify additional Death Eaters from his associates.

After all, not every Death Eater goes around waving their marked arm.

Sirius spends several days following his subject, without much success. Yaxley goes to and from the Ministry, and that’s about it. He might suspect that he’s being followed, but there’s no way to know that for sure.

He returns to the flat after three days, needing a shower and something decent to eat, and finds James and Lily already there, relaxing in the living room with butter beers. Both of them look wrung out, and Sirius frowns. 

“Are you two okay?” Sirius asks.

James nods. “We’re fine, but you need a shower. You smell like wet dog, Pads.”

“That’s because I was a wet dog until fairly recently,” Sirius replies. “I’ll just go take that shower  now.”

It’s a relief to get cleaned up and into clean clothes. He grabs a butter beer from the cool box and sprawls out in one of the overstuffed chairs across from James and Lily.

“How did your mission go?” James asks.

“No luck,” Sirius admits and take a long pull of his drink. “What about you?”

“The Muggle-borns are safe,” Lily replies. “But we had to fight off a group of five Death Eaters—and that was after they tried to get us to join them.”

Sirius frowns. “They tried to get you to join them?”

“That’s pretty much what I said,” James replies, “right before I tried to take a wand arm off with a reducto.”

“Did you manage it?” Sirius asks.

“The key word in that sentence is tried,” Lily says ruefully. “Although James did expend great effort.”

“At least you saved lives,” Sirius replies. “I’m still no closer to figuring out the identities of additional Death Eaters.”

“Did he know you were following him?” Lily asks.

Sirius shrugs. “Not unless he suspected a large, black dog of being an Order member.”

“Better luck next time, Pads,” James replies.

Sirius sighs. “I suppose so. I hope Reg is doing okay.”

“I’m sure he is,” Lily says encouragingly. “I don’t think anyone who was marked came back for seventh year.”

Sirius certainly hopes not.

~~~~~

Regulus taps the map with his wand and says, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Violet leans over his shoulder and gasps as the floorpan of the castle. “That’s remarkable.”

“That’s my brother’s work, him and his friends,” Regulus says proudly. “And maybe most of the marked Death Eaters didn’t return for seventh year, but we can be sure that some of them did.”

“And the map is going to show us that?” Violet asks.

“No, but it will show us whether we’re going to wind up running into anybody on the way to the Room of Requirement,” Regulus replies. “Sirius didn’t put the room on the map, because he wanted to protect it, just in case, but it’s an ideal place for us to meet and practice.”

He nods. “Coast is clear.”

Regulus thinks hard about the sort of room they’re going to need in order to practice his meditation. If his form is a bird, the way Sirius thought, then it could be incredibly useful. He’s pretty sure Sirius is using his own form to spy on Death Eaters. Regulus could do the same.

Violet eagerly agreed to help him, and she wants to see if she can find her animagus form, too. They haven’t spoken to their other friends about it yet. Elias has been avoiding them, and Byron and Myra are both dating other people, which leaves them without much time for their friends.

Regulus figures that Myra and Byron’s actions are normal. He’s a little worried about Elias, though. He’s afraid that Elias’ stand-offishness has to do with him changing his mind about remaining neutral. If he does that, it could be a big problem for them. Elias knows too much about Regulus’ family.

But right now, they’re focusing on finding their forms, and the room provides a large room, that is nearly empty save for some squishy chairs that will provide them a comfortable place to sit.

“So, how do we do this?” Violet asks him.

“I asked my brother to give me a few pointers before I came back to school,” Regulus says, although he’s feeling a little uneasy about the meditation. 

“What’s worrying you?” Violet asks. “I’ve done a bit of research on my own, and if you’re preoccupied, this isn’t going to work.”

“Elias,” Regulus admits. “I’m worried about him.”

“So am I,” Violet admits. “He won’t talk to me either, and he’s staying to himself. That’s not typical for him.”

Regulus sighs. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too. Do you think he got marked?”

“I don’t know,” Violet replies. “Maybe we should try to corner him, get him alone, although not here. We can try tomorrow. Now, can you focus?”

“I can try,” Regulus replies.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t try, do.”

He gets a little further with Violet’s help. Sirius had been right, having her present is motivating factor, because he wants to impress her.

Regulus sees the shadow of the bird flying again, only this time he can see the shape of it a little better, and he thinks it’s some kind of hawk. Violet doesn’t get that far, but she’s insistent that her form is going to be something fierce.

He knows better than to argue with her.

They sit next to Elias at dinner that night, and he ignores them as he’s been doing since the school year began. They’re not going to confront him here in front of the rest of the Slytherins, so they do what they’ve been doing since starting this thing: they focus on each other.

Regulus knows that this is the year that their classmates are likely to step up recruitment efforts, or possibly try to Imperius them into taking the mark. He and Violet have their promise rings that will prevent that sort of spell, and Regulus is still wearing his armor every day to prevent any curses to the back.

Still, he knows that this year and the next are probably going to be the most dangerous for them, at least until they can get through their NEWTs and go somewhere safer.

Regulus hasn’t totally given up on the idea of joining in the war effort, but he remembers what he’d promised his grandfather, and he’s going to have to do it cautiously.

They aren’t able to catch Elias alone until the following week, and they have to resort to subterfuge in order to do so. Violet writes a note that purports to be from a girl in the year below them that Elias has had his eye on for the last year or so. 

Regulus isn’t surprised that it works, and Elias turns up in the empty classroom after dinner. Although he turns right back around when he spots Violet, Regulus expects that, and he’s right behind him. 

“Come on, Elias, we’re all friends here,” Regulus says, prodding Elias farther into the classroom and closing the door behind them.

“We’re not,” Elias says tightly. “I thought I’d made that clear by ignoring you two.”

“Talk to us,” Violet urges. “We can help you.”

Regulus isn’t surprised when Elias pushes up the sleeve of his robe to show the Dark Mark. “No, you can’t help me!”

“I didn’t think you were going to join the Death Eaters,” Regulus says quietly. “We talked about it.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Elias snarls. “I’m not you, Regulus! I don’t have a powerful grandfather to protect me. My father made it clear that if I was going to remain a member of the family, I would have to take the mark.”

Violet’s expression is soft with sympathy. “What did they make you do?”

Elias shakes his head, his face twisting in anguish. “Don’t ask me that, Vi. I can’t tell you.”

“Then the rumors are true,” Regulus says bluntly. “You are required to commit some sort of crime in order to be marked.”

Elias sets his jaw. “I can’t be seen talking to the two of you.”

Regulus remains in the doorway, blocking Elias’ exit. “You know too much about the Black family.”

Elias’ expression twists into agony. “I wouldn’t betray you.”

“You might not have a choice,” Regulus points out. 

Elias takes out his wand and raises it. “I swear on my magic not to reveal any secrets of the House of Black.” He tucks his wand away. “There, does that satisfy you?”

Regulus moves out of the way. “Yes, it does. I’m sorry, Elias.”

Elias shakes his head, his expression bitter. “Don’t, and I would advise you not to be around after school. They’ll target your brother because they know he’s an Order member, but they’ll target you to get to him, too.”

“I know,” Regulus replies. “We have our own plans.”

“Goodbye,” Elias says, and the word holds some finality.

He leaves the classroom, and Violet immediately hugs him, and Regulus hugs her right back. “How bad do you think it was?”

“I think it was very bad,” Violet whispers. “Did you see his expression when I asked what they’d made him do?”

Regulus thinks that could have been him—he could have been the one to receive the mark this last summer. He could have been the one forced to do something that would stain his magic and his honor.

He could have been one of those involved in the murders of Violet’s family members.

“I’m glad very grateful for my grandfather,” Regulus finally says. “Because that very well could have been me.”

“No, it wouldn’t have been,” Violet argues. “You don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Regulus shakes his head. “No, I don’t, but by the time I figured that out, it may very well have been too late. Elias never wanted to hurt anyone either.”

But it’s disheartening to realize that Elias has been lost to them, unless they end the war and defeat Voldemort. And even if they do that, there’s every chance that whatever crimes he’s been forced to commit, he’ll still have to answer for.

~~~~~

Arcturus reads Regulus’ letter with a heavy heart, and an understanding that it could have easily been Regulus forced into doing something he wouldn’t have otherwise done. Elias Oldham is from an old family, and one that hasn’t been linked to Voldemort. 

Still, Arcturus can guess at what had happened. The Oldhams have money and a small amount of power, and they likely wanted to keep what they had of both. Aligning themselves with Voldemort, and offering their son as a sacrificial lamb, would probably seem like an attractive proposition—or at least the best choice out of a lot of bad ones.

Arcturus is more convinced than ever that he needs to send Regulus to France as soon as he takes his NEWTs, and he resolves to contact Violet’s father. They’re young to be married, but he suspects that the Millers won’t want the two of them living together without being wed.

Arcturus is safe at Black Manor, but both of his boys are in jeopardy. There’s very little he can do for Sirius, but he can make sure Regulus is well out of the way.

He’ll ensure that the Black line continues, and while he’s incredibly fond of Sirius, he thinks that Regulus is more likely to carry on the line. Regulus already has a serious girlfriend, and is likely to marry her. He’s also willing to sit out the current war.

Sirius has also sent an owl, and his letter is lighter, happier. Even though he’s working for the Order, he keeps the focus on amusing anecdotes. James is talking about marrying Lily; Remus’ apprenticeship is going well.

And you’ll be happy to know that I can conduct a lot of Order business as Padfoot, Sirius writes. I’m being as careful as I can be.

It’s a small comfort, to know that Sirius has the protection of an unknown animagus form, but it’s a comfort nonetheless.

He’s at least being careful, and Arcturus is glad to hear that. And even if Sirius is putting up a front, it sounds as though he’s having a fairly normal post-school experience. He’s living with friends, and navigating relationships. 

Arcturus is less worried about Sirius than maybe he should be, but he likes the fact that Sirius is enjoying his life. That’s something.

He sends an owl off to Mr. Miller to begin the conversation and make arrangements. He also sends an owl to Daniel Longbottom, letting him know about the development with the Oldhams. 

Knowing who has joined Voldemort makes it less likely that someone will get a surprise curse to the back. And it shows how deep Voldemort’s reach goes.

Arcturus sends a reply to both boys, commiserating with Regulus and asking Sirius if he wants to have dinner at the Manor soon.

He misses having them around, and since Sirius isn’t at school and can apparate, he’s hoping Sirius will visit a little more often if invited.

He also sends an owl to Rockhand, with a query for the goblin seers with the new information about Regulus’ friend.

Arcturus doesn’t have to wait long for a reply from Miller, who offers to meet him. Since Regulus and Violet still seem quite attached to each other, Miller is going to be family eventually, and Arcturus invites him to Black Manor. Violet has already been there, and he includes her mother in the invitation as well.

They arrive at the Manor two days later, dressed to the nines, escorted by Arcturus’ solicitor. “Welcome,” Arcturus says. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Miller.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Miller replies. “And this is my wife, Nancy.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Arcturus replies. “I can see where Violet gets her good looks.”

Mrs. Miller laughs. “And I can see why my daughter said you were quite charming.”

Arcturus smiles. “She makes it very easy. You must be proud of her.”

“Very much so,” Mr. Miller replies.

“Please, come in,” Arcturus says. “We’ll have some refreshments and talk. I wanted to tell you both how sorry I was to hear about the death of your daughter and her family.”

Mrs. Miller’s eyes immediately fill with tears. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.”

“Not at all,” Arcturus replies. “I am hoping that I can offer you some peace of mind, at least about Violet.”

Mr. Miller clears his throat, sounding choked up. “I would do anything to protect Violet.”

“As I would do anything to protect Regulus,” Arcturus replies. “I’m afraid there’s not much I can do at this point for Sirius. He’s part of the war effort, and I can’t dissuade him.”

“Have you threatened to disown him?” Miller jokes.

“He was ready to disown himself before I stepped in,” Arcturus says ruefully. “There were no threats I could make to change his mind, and I’m not sure I would have anyway. I’ll do what I can to protect the Black line, but Sirius lives by his own values, and I appreciate that about him.”

“He sounds like a strong-minded individual,” Miller says. “Violet has spoken of him quite positively, even if he is a Gryffindor.”

Arcturus laughs. “Indeed.”

They sit in the study, and Cordy brings refreshments—tea and small sandwiches and cakes. Everything looks beautiful, and Mrs. Miller compliments Cordy with real feeling. “This all looks wonderful. Violet said the food she had here was wonderful, and I can see why.”

Cordy gives her a pleased smile. “Thank you, you’re too kind.”

Once they all had their cups of tea and have filled their plates, Arcturus says, “For Christmas, I gave Regulus a family property in Paris. I plan on sending him there after Hogwarts for continuing education. Currently, he’s leaning towards law.”

“Violet said he had ambition,” Miller says approvingly. “I’m not sure where that leaves Violet, though.”

“Voldemort’s violence hasn’t quite reached the Continent yet,” Arcturus explains. “The residence itself can easily be made unplottable. I have concerns about their safety after one of their friends in Slytherin, who had sworn not to join the Death Eaters, did so.”

Mrs. Miller’s chin trembles with emotion. “Violet said. I couldn’t believe it. From everything she’s said about Elias, he seemed like such a nice boy, and he knew what happened with Mary.”

“From what Regulus reported, I’m not sure that Elias had much choice,” Arcturus says gently. “Which is all the more reason to get Regulus and Violet out of the way.”

He knows that Miller is starting to follow his train of thought. “You’re thinking marriage.”

“I wouldn’t suggest them living together without being married,” Arcturus replies. “I realize that they’re young, probably too young, but we’re in the midst of a war.”

Mrs. Miller smiles. “We were an arranged marriage, and we’ve made it work between us. Regulus and Violet have a strong foundation, all things considered. They’re very good friends already.”

Miller nods. “Assuming that they’re both amenable, we’re willing to support it. Anything to make sure she’s safe.”

Arcturus nods. “I’ll broach the subject with Regulus over the holiday, then, if you’d like to speak with Violet.”

“We will,” Mrs. Miller says firmly. “And we very much appreciate the offer, and the fact that you’re showing such care for Violet’s safety.”

“She’s important to Regulus, and I’m quite fond of her myself,” Arcturus replies.

Among the purebloods, Arcturus knows that marrying into the Black family would be considered a step up. The Millers don’t have the same social status, even if they’re pureblood.

Not that Arcturus would ever mention that, as it would be incredibly gauche.

They part as friends and possibly future in-laws, and Arcturus is hopeful that they might be able to keep their children safe.

~~~~~

Sirius is worried about Regulus after he receives his brother’s letter, telling him that Elias had been marked. He’s familiar enough with Elias to know that it’s out of character, and contrary to anything that Sirius might have expected from him. 

That just makes Sirius even more worried. Someone could target Regulus, get him into a vulnerable position, and force him to take the mark. Once marked, Regulus would be at Voldemort’s mercy.

“What’s put that look on your face?” Remus asks. He has a rare day off from his apprenticeship, and Sirius doesn’t have a mission for the Order. James and Lily are out on a date, and Peter has made himself scarce recently, which leaves Sirius and Remus to hang out.

Instead of a verbal answer, Sirius passes his brother’s letter over, since there’s nothing in there that’s too personal for Remus to see.

Remus reads the letter with a deepening frown. “Elias Oldham took the mark? He didn’t seem like the type.” He pauses. “But it sounds like it wasn’t by his choice.” He hands the letter back to Sirius and rubs his eyes. “I’m sure you’re worried.”

“More than ever,” Sirius admits. “They could force Regulus into doing something. If they managed to get Violet, or threatened her, or me, or Grandfather…”

He trails off, unable to put his thoughts fully into words. He takes a deep breath. “Speaking of Grandfather, he’s invited me for dinner this weekend, and said you and James are welcome to join us.”

“Not Peter?” Remus asks with a raised eyebrow.

Sirius gives him a look. “You know why that is.”

“I think you’re being a little too hard on him,” Remus replies.

“And he hasn’t exactly been around,” Sirius points out. “He’s thrown himself into his job at the Ministry.”

Remus shrugs. “I get that, but you also asked me and James to live here, and not Peter. Maybe he feels like he’s being shut out.”

“Maybe he is being shut out,” Sirius shoots back. “Look, I’m not saying we aren’t friends any more, but things change, Moony. James is talking about looking for a ring for Lily, and then they’ll be out on their own. You have your apprenticeship. I have my work for the Order, and my family. If it weren’t my grandfather making the request, I probably would invite Peter along, but I can’t overlook what he said about my brother.”

Remus is quiet for a long moment. “Especially given what we know about your parents?”

“Especially given that,” Sirius finally admits. “You’re all aware of what my life was like with my parents, and now they’ve turned on Reg. He deserves to have the safety that I never did.”

“You deserved to be safe, too,” Remus says. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to press. Maybe I’m missing the old days.”

“You’re allowed,” Sirius replies. “I understand, Moony.”

“But I wouldn’t mind having dinner with you and your grandfather,” Remus adds. “I just wanted to be sure that you weren’t leaving Peter out just because you had forgotten him.”

Sirius shakes his head. “No, I haven’t forgotten anything.”

He means that on multiple levels, and Remus is smart enough to understand.

“We should go out tonight,” Sirius says. “We can get something to eat.”

Remus smiles. “I’d like that.”

That night, he and Remus go to a local Indian place for dinner, ordering enough food to have plenty of leftovers for the next few days. They’d learned that having leftovers meant no one had to cook, especially when Remus is out a lot, and Sirius might get a mission from the Order at any moment, and be out at all hours.

After dinner, Sirius suggests that they go to the Muggle movie theater, and they pick a film at random to watch. It’s a rare carefree evening, and Sirius sometimes wonders why more wizards don’t retreat to the Muggle world these days.

They’re walking back to the flat, and Remus says, “That was a lot of fun. Thanks for that.”

“I took Reg out to Muggle London, and he enjoyed it more than he thought he would, I think,” Sirius says. “It’s really not so bad.”

Remus laughs. “No, not so bad at all.”

“It’s not like wizards make films,” Sirius teases.

“No, that they don’t,” Remus says, and bumps Sirius’ shoulder with his own. 

When they get back to the flat, James and Lily have returned from their date, and Lily is glowing. James lights up when he sees them. “I just want to give the news once, and Peter is on his way.”

Sirius’ eye is immediately caught by the ring on Lily’s left hand. “Oh, I think we already know what the news is. Congratulations, you two.”

He gives Lily a hug and a kiss on the cheek as Remus offers his own congratulations to James, and then they switch places.

Peter arrives as James is grabbing the bottle of champagne out of the refrigerator, and he asks, “What did I miss?”

“Sirius’ eagle eyes caught it,” James says. “Lily agreed to marry me tonight.”

Peter grins. “Congratulations!”

There are more hugs and kisses, and James finds five mismatched glasses and pours them all a glass of bubbly. They toast the happy couple, and on the heels of the evening that he’d spent with Remus, Sirius can almost forget they’re in the middle of a war still.

The next day, everything is back to normal, though. Lily is back at her own job, Peter at his, and Remus back at his apprenticeship. They don’t have another job from the Order, and so Sirius shares his brother’s news and his grandfather’s invitation with James.

James is as troubled as Remus had been at Elias’ defection, and quickly agrees to the dinner. “Do you think he’d mind if I brought Lily? To be honest, I’m beginning to think of him as family, and—“

“I think he feels the same way,” Sirius is quick to assure him. “And I’m sure he’d be open to having Lily there, but I’ll ask him.”

“But you’re not inviting Peter,” James says.

Sirius sighs. “You know, Moony asked me the very same question, and no. Not after what he said about my brother’s request for sanctuary. Not when he knew what it was like for me with my parents.”

James nods. “You’re allowed to hold a grudge, Pads. I’m not saying you shouldn’t, and we all know—or should know—just how protective of Reg you are.”

Sirius relaxes, relieved to have James’ support. “You didn’t say whether you two had picked a date,” he says.

James hesitates. “Lily wants me to meet her sister, and her sister’s fiancé. We’ll set a date after that.”

Sirius remembers that Lily had made a few comments about her sister, and her jealousy, and he says, “I don’t see that going well.”

“Lily is hopeful,” James replies. “But also not holding her breath.”

“So, soon?” Sirius asks.

“That’s our preference,” he admits. “There’s a war on, Sirius. And we don’t want to waste any time.”

“I can understand that,” Sirius replies. “I’m happy for you, Prongs.”

“What about you?” James teases. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to be making Black heirs.”

Sirius shakes his head. “Maybe when I find a woman like Lily, but I haven’t met anyone who would tempt me to give up being a bachelor. Besides, pretty sure Regulus and Violet have that covered.”

James laughs. “Well, I’ll admit that I’m very lucky.”

Sirius shares the good news with his grandfather by owl, and gets a quick and courteous response, inviting Lily to dinner along with Sirius’ friends. He does add a note, “I would prefer if you didn’t bring Peter, though, my boy. But if you must, he’ll be welcome.”

For Sirius, his grandfather’s expressed wish is enough reason not to invite Peter, let alone the fact that Peter has mostly made himself scarce. Granted, that might be because they haven’t been inviting him around, but they’ve been busy.

Sirius knows the location of Manor, as do James and Remus, and so James side-alongs Lily and they turn up on the front lawn. The door is flung open, welcoming them. Cordy bows and says, “It is very good to see you, Master Sirius.”

“Good to see you, too, Cordy,” Sirius replies. “How is my grandfather?”

“He be doing good,” Cordy says. “He stays busy, but he misses you.”

As a guilt trip, it’s quite effective. Sirius knows he needs to visit his grandfather more often; there’s no telling how much time he has left. “Thanks, Cordy.”

“We prepare special meal to celebrate,” Cody says. “There be champagne in the study.”

Sirius leads them through into the study and finds his grandfather ensconced in one of the wingback, leather-bound chairs. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up,” he says. “But I have to offer my congratulations to you and Lily, James. Welcome to the family, my dear.”

Lily smiles uncertainly. “I didn’t realize you were a Black, James.”

“My grandmother was,” James replies. “I think Sirius and I are second cousins, or maybe third.”

“It’s a distant relation, but most pureblood families are related somehow,” Arcturus adds. “But Sirius views James as his brother, and that’s good enough for me, even without the blood tie.”

James smiles, and Lily blushes. “Thank you, Lord Black,” Lily says. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

“I believe Cordy has prepared a special meal to celebrate,” Arcturus says. “If you’ll help me up, Sirius.”

Sirius offers a hand up, and then he offers his arm for additional stability in addition to the cane that his grandfather leans on heavily. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sirius asks in a low voice.

“Today hasn’t been a particularly good day,” Arcturus admits. “And my balance is a bit off. But I’m otherwise fine.”

“Just lean on me, then,’ Sirius says. “And if you need me to stay here—“

“My needs are well taken care of, but I appreciate the offer,” Arcturus says quickly. “You deserve to have a life.”

“I also deserve to have a grandfather,” Sirius counters. “Thank you for inviting us tonight. I know we’ve been caught up in our own lives.”

Arcturus smiles gently. “That’s as it should be. Don’t worry about it.”

Sirius seats his grandfather at the table and sits at his right hand, Remus on his other side. James sits across from him, with Lily next to him, and glasses full of champagne appear at the top of their plates.

Arcturus raises his glass with a still-steady hand. “Felicitations to James and Lily. May you be as happy together as my wife and I were.”

Sirius remembers spending time with his grandparents, and he remembers how much Arcturus had doted on his grandmother. 

It’s a good toast, and a good wish.

Dinner that night is delicious, and the mood convivial, in spite of the knowledge that they may very well be losing the war. “Sirius, will you stay tonight?” Arcturus asks at the end of the meal.

Sirius glances at James and Remus, and he says, “Yes, of course. We don’t have any Order business until the meeting tomorrow evening.”

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Lord Black,” Lily says. “The food was delicious.”

“Made more delicious by the wonderful company,” Arcturus says. “Thank you for coming.”

Sirius’ friends say their goodbyes, and Sirius walks them out, then joins his grandfather in the study. He accepts the glass of fire whiskey his grandfather offers, and he knows the gesture for what it is, the acknowledgment that he’s an adult now.

“Tell me about what you’re doing now,” Arcturus says.

Sirius hesitates. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my grandson, and while I can’t protect you, or prevent you from participating in the war effort, I can at least know what it is you’re doing,” Arcturus replies.

Sirius sighs. “It’s not going especially well.”

“So I’ve noticed from the Daily Prophet,” Arcturus says. “Your brother did say that he’d extracted a promise from Elias Oldham that he wouldn’t reveal anything about our family. He promised on his magic.”

Sirius nods grimly. “Well done, Reg,” he mutters, and he feels a bolt of sympathy for the younger man. Such an oath, on top of the oath he must have taken as a Death Eater, and the burden that it would place on his magic…

Well, he must truly care for Regulus and Violet to have made such a promise, knowing that it might kill him. 

“Regulus thought he had been forced into it,” Sirius says quietly. 

“That’s what he told me as well,” Arcturus agrees. “The Oldhams are an old pureblood family without a lot of money or power.”

“So, they don’t have an unplottable manor that they can retreat to,” Sirius comments. And then, in spite of knowing that Elias is a Death Eater now, that he might have to face him on the field of battle, Sirius says, “That poor kid.”

Arcturus smiles approvingly. “I’m glad you understand that, my boy.”

“It’s not hard to imagine Regulus placed in that position,” Sirius admits. “I just hope I don’t have to meet him at the end of my wand.”

“I hope so, too,” Arcturus says.

And Sirius begins to tell his grandfather about what he’s been up to for the last few months.

~~~~~

Regulus feels Elias’ absence even more after they find out that he’s taken the mark. Before, things had just been strangely awkward. Now, it feels like a death.

He and Violet say their lingering goodbyes on Platform 9 3/4, as they part for their holiday break. 

“Say hello to your grandfather for me,” Violet says. “I’ll send you an owl once I know what my parents wanted to talk to me about. They’ve been mysterious, but said it’s something important.”

Regulus smiles. “I’m going to guess it has something to do with that flat in Paris my grandfather gifted me. I know he mentioned having your parents over for tea one day.”

“Hey, Reg, Vi,” Sirius says, making his way towards them through the crowded platform. “How are you?”

“We’re fine,” Regulus replies. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see you both safely to your destinations,” Sirius says. “James and Remus are here, too. We don’t think the Death Eaters will target the platform, not when their kids are here, too, but you can’t be too safe these days.”

Sirius cocks his head, and Regulus follows his gaze to Elias, who is standing several feet away, his wand in hand. “Come on,” Sirius says quickly. “Let’s get out of here.”

He pushes Regulus and Violet ahead of him, towards the exit. “He wouldn’t—“ Regulus begins.

“No, I’m sure he was just worried about what I would do,” Sirius replies grimly. “Like I said, there are plenty of Death Eaters here, or those who are Death Eater adjacent.”

Regulus frowns, alarm beginning to build. “But you wouldn’t go after him.”

“No, I’m not going to go after him, not unless he leaves me with no other choice,” Sirius replies. “But I’m not going to seek him out. He’s just a kid.”

James and Remus fall in to flank them, and then Lily takes up the rear. “Lily and James are going to make sure you get home safely, Violet,” Sirius says. “They’re expecting you.”

Violet hugs Regulus tightly. “Be safe, okay?”

“You, too,” Regulus replies, and then kisses her.

It’s warmth and reassurance, and then they break apart. “Happy Christmas,” Regulus says.

“Happy Christmas,” Violet replies. “Thank you, Sirius.”

“Of course,” Sirius replies.

It’s Remus who accompanies them to Black Manor, although he declines Sirius’ invitation to stay. “My parents are expecting me, but I’ll see you later, Padfoot.”

“You will,” Sirius promises. “Thanks for the assist today.”

“It was a doddle,” Remus replies with a smile for Regulus, and then he apparates away.

“Why were all your friends there?” Regulus asks as they enter the Manor.

“Just a precaution,” Sirius replies. “Don’t worry about it. We didn’t want to give the Death Eaters a shot at your or Violet.”

“I thought you said they wouldn’t risk it,” Regulus objects.

Sirius suddenly appears grim. “There are a lot of things I thought the Death Eaters wouldn’t do, and they did it anyway. I don’t think they would have risked it, but I didn’t want to be wrong either.”

Regulus frowns. “How—how bad is it, really? I’ve been reading the Daily Prophet, and there are a lot of stories about deaths, but I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s bad,” Sirius says bluntly. “Which is why I’m not giving them a shot at you, and neither is Grandfather. We’re safe enough here for Christmas, and we don’t have to think about it. I have a couple of days until the next Order meeting anyway.”

Regulus is about to ask another question about the Order, but Sirius abruptly changes the subject. “How’s the meditation coming? Have you found your form yet?”

“I think it’s a goshawk,” Regulus admits. “It’s getting clearer, and Violet has been helping, but it’s not there yet. She thinks she’s a cat of some sort, but it’s even less clear for her.”

Sirius nudges him with his elbow. “We can work on it while I’m here. Maybe that will help. I think having your animagus forms will make you and Violet safer, especially if the Death Eaters don’t know about it.”

Regulus wants to find his form, because he’d like to be able to transform the way that Sirius can, and he’s happy to spend time with his brother. But he also hates to know that it’s not just for fun; it’s protection.

Sirius throws an arm around Regulus’ shoulders. “Let’s put that aside, okay? We’ll have a nice Christmas, and I’ll help you find your form, and we’ll forget about the war.”

His grandfather is seated when they enter the study, and Regulus notices that he doesn’t rise to greet them. “You’ll forgive me, my boys. Today has not been a good day.”

Sirius shakes their grandfather’s hand. “You’re having more of those lately.”

Arcturus smiles gently. “We knew that would happen.”

“I was hoping for more time,” Sirius admits.

Regulus frowns. “But what—“ He stops, because he’s about to say something very selfish.

“I’ll be around long enough,” Arcturus says. “And when I’m gone, your brother will be the patriarch, and your request for sanctuary will transfer to him. Sirius will make sure you’re safe.”

“I’m sorry,” Regulus says immediately. “I didn’t mean—“

“You were quite naturally worried about what might happen to you in my absence,” Arcturus replies. “Nothing wrong with that. Now, Sirius, I believe dinner might be ready, if you’ll lend me your arm.”

It hurts Regulus to know that their time with their grandfather is limited. Time is always limited, of course, and no one is immune from death, no matter what Voldemort promises. But although Regulus has known for a while that his grandfather is ill, he’s failing faster than Regulus expected.

“Oh, chin up, Regulus,” Arcturus says. “Just because I have a few bad days doesn’t mean I’m on my death bed. I plan on sticking around at least until I have half a dozen great-grandchildren.”

“Better alert Violet, Reg,” Sirius jokes, helping their grandfather up, and offering his arm as they head into the dining room. “She should probably know that Grandfather is requiring at least six kids from the two of you.”

“You’re included in that, Sirius,” Regulus is swift to reply. “I figure three from each of us.”

Sirius snorts. “You’re the one with marriage on the mind, brother mine.”

Regulus frowns. “I’m a little young for marriage.”

Arcturus clears his throat. “That’s one of the things I wanted to speak with you about while you’re here.”

Sirius helps Arcturus into his seat at the head of the table, and takes the righthand seat.

“Is this about the flat in Paris?” Regulus asks.

“You didn’t think the Millers would let their daughter live with you without being married, did you?” Arcturus asks. “I spoke to them, and they’re amenable to the idea. They’re going to speak with Violet over Christmas break and find out if she’s willing. If you’re both agreeable, I’ll send you back to school with a little more than a promise ring.”

Regulus swallows. “But I’m a little young, right?”

“James asked Lily to marry him, and he’s only a couple of years older than you are,” Sirius points out gently. “There’s a war on, and by the time you both leave school, you’ll be young, but older than you are now.”

“Your brother is right,” Arcturus says. “Your grandmother and I were an arranged marriage, and we didn’t have the foundation that you and Violet do. You’re friends first, and that’s the important thing. You can build something strong on that foundation.”

Regulus swallows. Two years ago, he’d thought he’d join Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He hadn’t planned on getting married or having a family. He hadn’t planned on reconnecting with his brother and grandfather, or anything else that had happened.

“For the record, I’m not okay with providing half a dozen grandchildren,” Regulus says. “Sirius should be on the hook for at least two.”

Arcturus smiles. “Four from you will do.”

Sirius rolls his eyes as their food appears in front of them. “You’re assuming that I can find a woman willing to put up with me, and that might be a tall order.”

“True,” Regulus agrees. “Maybe you should let Grandfather arrange a marriage for you.”

“After the war is over, maybe I’ll think about it,” Sirius replies, with a quelling look in Regulus’ direction. 

Their grandfather doesn’t stay up very late, going to bed soon after they’re finished with dinner. He and Sirius head for the study, and they sit on the floor. “No time like the present to start,” Sirius says. “Do you want to find your form?”

“Of course, I do,” Regulus replies. “But I don’t appreciate being stuck with producing that many kids.”

“As soon as I find the right person, I’m happy to assist,” Sirius replies. “But eligible witches who aren’t also Death Eaters are scarce on the ground. No matter, though. What woman would want to hitch her star to someone who’s likely to wind up dead at some point?”

Regulus glares at him. “You’re not allowed to die.”

“So noted,” Sirius replies. “Now, close your eyes, because we’re going to meditate, and you’re going to find your form.”

“What? You think you’re so special, you can lead the way?” Regulus scoffs, enjoying the banter.

“I’ve been working on a few things,” Sirius replies. “So, close your eyes and relax.”

Regulus does as he’s told, and then he feels Sirius in his mind, gentle and tentative. I told you that I’ve been learning. Is this all right?

“When did you become a legilimens?” Regulus asks aloud.

“I didn’t say I had,” Sirius replies. “Ordinarily, I probably wouldn’t be able to manage it, but you’re my brother, and you’re more open to me than most. I have very little ability otherwise. But with you, I can do it. Do you consent?”

Regulus nods. “I do.”

“So, close your eyes,” Sirius says. “And I’ll show you how it’s done.”

He closes his eyes, and then he feels Sirius poking about the corners of his mind again, and this time he allows it. And when he’s in the field again, with the shadow of the hawk above him, Sirius is there next to him.

“I’m here because I want you to feel it as I change, okay? So, pay attention,” Sirius says.

Regulus suddenly realizes what his brother is talking about. If Regulus feels Sirius change, he might catch the trick of it.

“I understand,” Regulus says. “I’m paying attention.”

“Good.” Sirius transforms. And then back, and then to Padfoot, and back and forth, and Regulus can feel the transition, and he suddenly sees it, and how to do it.

The next thing Regulus knows is that he’s back in the study, and he’s—well, he has feathers.

“Congratulations, you were correct,” Sirius says, amused. “You are, indeed, a goshawk, and you’ve found your form. Now it’s just a matter of changing back. Think about how it felt for me to do that, and you’ll get there.”

Sirius seems remarkably calm given that Regulus is covered in feathers and has no idea how to  change back.

“Come on, you’ve got this,” Sirius says. “Just think what it feels like to be human again. It’s the same transformation, just backwards.”

And that calms Regulus down enough so that he can transform back, and Sirius beams at him. “Well done! Now, we’ll do that a few dozen times, and tomorrow you can try flying. It’ll make it easier in the long run.”

The next day, Sirius is as good as his word, and their grandfather seems to be feeling a little stronger, because he accompanies them outside to watch as Regulus take his first flight. He might be leaning on his cane, but he walks steadily and without assistance today. 

He’s as impressed with Regulus’ form as he had been with Sirius’, and they both stand outside to watch as he takes flight. Regulus flounders a bit the first time, not quite getting how to move his wings and tail to catch the air currents. It takes him several tries to get off the ground and into the air, at least more than a few inches.

And then something seems to click, and Regulus launches himself into the air, wings flapping strongly, and he circles the lawn a few times, experimenting with a dive before pulling out of it to do another pass.

He’s always loved flying, but it’s so much more intense when he’s flying as a goshawk, rather than on his broom. By the time he lands and transforms back, Regulus knows that he’ll be back up in the air as soon as he can manage it.

“How was it?” Sirius asks brightly. “Did you have fun?”

“It was amazing,” Regulus gushes. He’s not usually that enthusiastic, but he’s on a high from his flight.

Arcturus is smiling indulgently. “I’m a little jealous, Regulus. That looked like fun.”

“It was fun,” Regulus replies cheerfully. “Probably the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

“Come on inside,” Sirius says. “If you’re not hungry, you soon will be.”

Regulus hears his stomach growl, and Sirius laughs. Arcturus chuckles. “I think that answers that question.”

And for a brief, shining moment, there’s no war, no Death Eaters, just him and his family, and Regulus decides to live in the moment.

~~~~~

By the time they get through Christmas, Sirius is pleased with how his brother is doing with his transformation, satisfied that Regulus could just fly away from trouble. Although, if Violet really does have a feline form, Sirius isn’t sure what that would say about their compatibility.

Then again, they would both be predators, so that might make sense.

Sirius lets himself into their flat, and calls out, “Anybody home?”

He knows he has an Order meeting in an hour, and he’d planned on going with James, assuming James isn’t with Lily. They hadn’t made any firm plans, other than attending the meeting. 

There’s no reply, and Sirius quickly gets changed into more comfortable clothing than what he had been wearing at his grandfather’s house. Sirius pulls on his robes on, and then apparates to the meeting location. He’s early, but there are others who are also known to show up early.

Indeed, Frank and Alice Longbottom are already there, wearing their Auror robes, and Frank greets Sirius with a handshake. “How are you, Sirius? And how is your grandfather?”

Arcturus has mentioned the Longbottoms in the past, so Sirius knows that they’re acquainted. 

“He’s doing well,” Sirius replies. “I just came from there, actually. How was your Christmas?”

“Good,” Alice says, dimpling. “We had a very nice holiday.”

James and Lily are the next to arrive, and James gives Sirius a quick, hard hug. “How was Christmas?”

“It was good,” Sirius replies. “Regulus and Grandfather are both doing well.”

He’ll likely tell James and Remus about his brother achieving his animagus transformation once they’re alone, but he’s not going to put it out there for public consumption.

The rest of the Order members begin to filter in, and there are friendly greetings all around,  even between members who are only civil. They all know that they might not survive their next mission, and no one wants to go out on bad feelings.

Dumbledore calls the meeting to order, and they discuss the various assignments. There are Muggle-born families that need protection, sensitive spell ingredients that need to be transported to those who are brewing potions for the Order, and intelligence gathering to undertake.

Frank and Alice aren’t the only Aurors present—Mad-Eye Moody is there as well as Kingsley Shacklebolt and Edward Bones. There are also the usual sorts—the Prewitt twins, the Weasleys, and Amelia Bones. 

It’s not as though the Ministry has proven effective against Voldemort or the Death Eaters, and so the Order serves as a shadow law enforcement agency.

Dumbledore asks Lily to accompany the Longbottoms on their mission that night to accompany some of those in the Ministry who have been threatened. He asks Sirius and James to run surveillance on a group of Death Eaters.

“I believe that they’re meeting with others,” Dumbledore says. “You may have an opportunity to discover their identities.”

Before they leave, Dumbledore stops them, and Sirius keeps his sigh purely internal. He knows what Dumbledore is going to ask—again. He hasn’t given up on recruiting Remus for the Order, to send him as a liaison to the werewolf packs.

And sure enough, that’s exactly what Dumbledore wants.

“Surely, Remus can see how useful he’d be to the cause,” Dumbledore says.

“And Remus is still very invested in his apprenticeship, and is still very busy,” Sirius says pleasantly. “You’ve always said that joining the Order has to be voluntary, and while Remus is, of course, very concerned about Death Eater activities, he’s not in a position to join the Order right now.”

Dumbledore’s expression is disappointed, but Sirius is going to hold the line. Remus has asked Sirius and James not to let Dumbledore know anything other than he’s busy and unwilling to formally join the Order. 

They’re going to hold the secret of the goblin charm as sacred, and given how badly Dumbledore wants to use Remus, Sirius thinks Remus’ instincts are correct.

“Where is Dumbledore’s desperate desire to bring Remus onboard and send him to the packs coming from?” James demands in a low voice. “It’s starting to get weird.”

“You know the Headmaster,” Sirius replies. “He has his own motivations for everything he does. This war is a chess game, and Remus is a piece that has refused to be placed on the board.”

“That doesn’t say much good about Dumbledore,” James mutters.

Sirius shrugs. “I’ll protect Remus for as long as he wants to stay out of things.”

“So will I,” James agrees. “Besides, it’s not like Moony isn’t willing to help out when we need him.”

“True.” Sirius draws his wand. “Once more into the breach, Prongs?”

“Absolutely,” James replies.

They find their quarry easily enough, just where Dumbledore said the Death Eaters would be. There are three of them, all wearing hoods and masks. No chance of getting their identities as he and James watch from the shadows. And, while the information had been good as to their location, there’s no sign of any others.

The rendezvous is in one of the rougher areas of Diagon Alley, and Sirius frowns as they start heading out of Knockturn Alley towards the main street. It’s a little late—just after eight—but there are still plenty of people out and about.

“I don’t think they’re up to any good, Prongs,” Sirius murmurs.

“Neither do I,” James replies. “What do you say we provide a distraction?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Sirius replies.

Wands out, he and James send a series of annoying hexes and jinxes at the Death Eaters, to turn their attention to them, rather than the innocents going about their business. 

They would have to keep the attention on them, and they both have experience with that by now. The Death Eaters turn to face them, casting a number of curses at them, and he and James lead them away, towards Knockturn Alley, keeping them busy.

Right up until he and James hit them with heavy-duty stunners, followed up with incarcerous spells. “That should keep them tied up for a while,” James says.

Sirius snorts. “I didn’t get the chance to ask, how was Christmas with Lily?”

James groans. “It was awful. Her parents are nice enough, and they were quite welcoming. If it had just been about spending time with them, it would have been fine. But there was her sister and her sister’s husband, and they are the worst sort of Muggles. An evening in their company almost had me wanting to switch sides and join the Death Eaters.”

Sirius winces. “That bad, huh?”

“Probably worse,” James says. “I don’t think that Lily is all that interested in having them at the wedding now, which is definitely for the best. We did set a date, though, in the spring.”

“That’s something, anyway,” Sirius replies, clapping James on the shoulder. “I’m sorry your Christmas wasn’t a terribly happy one.”

“What about you?” James asks. 

“Regulus found his form,” Sirius says. “He’s a goshawk. Took to flying like he’d been born with feathers.”

He knows that he sounds proud, and he is.

“That’s great,” James replies with a grin. “No surprise that Reg is a bird, or a goshawk.”

“No, no surprise there,” Sirius agrees. “Guess we’d better enjoy evenings like this while we can, huh? Pretty soon, you’ll be married, maybe have a baby.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” James replies. “We’ve talked about kids, but we’re not planning on any in the near future, not until the war is over.”

Sirius smirks. “Then I guess we’d better end the war, hadn’t we?”

~~~~~

Regulus steps onto the train platform with some trepidation. He’d spent another week at Black Manor after his brother left to go back to Order business, and his grandfather had given him an engagement ring after the owl came from the Millers. Violet is amenable to the idea of marriage, and his grandfather is wasting no time.

The ring was his grandmother’s, and comes with even stronger protections than the promise rings the two of them wear. Right now, it’s burning a hole in Regulus’ pocket, even though he has no idea how to propose. 

Regulus glances over at Sirius, who has once again accompanied him, along with Remus. James and Lily are escorting Violet. None of them are taking any chances once again.

“Can I ask you a question?” Regulus glances around and doesn’t see Violet yet.

“You can ask me anything you like,” Sirius replies. “I can’t promise to answer, though.”

“How do I propose to Violet?” he blurts out. “I mean, it’s kind of a done deal, isn’t it? But I don’t want her to think it’s not important or that I don’t care about her.”

Sirius frowns, apparently thinking about it. “Do you still check in with Kreacher?”

Regulus nods hesitantly. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, then you talk to your head of house about finding a nice, empty space, and you get Kreacher to help you decorate. A table, candles, all of it,” Sirius says. “Either Slughorn will help provide a special meal, or maybe Kreacher can get you something. Be sincere when you present the ring, and tell her that while this might be moving faster than expected due to current events, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t eagerly anticipating being married to her.”

Regulus takes a deep breath. “Okay, yeah, that makes sense.”

Sirius claps him on the shoulder. “Relax, little brother. She’s already said yes. But by going that extra mile, you’re going to show her just how serious you are about this.”

Regulus snorts. “I thought you were Sirius.”

His brother barks a laugh. “That’s my line, you berk.”

“Thanks,” Regulus adds. “For the advice.”

“You’re going to do just fine,” Sirius says.

James and Lily walk through the barrier to the platform with Violet between them, and she makes a beeline for Regulus, hugging him tightly. “How are you?”

“Happy to see you,” Regulus replies, remembering Sirius’ advice.

Violet smiles. “I’m happy to see you, too. How are you, Sirius?”

“Glad to see you’re in one piece,” Sirius says warmly. “We’ll stick around to make sure you get on the train safely. Good luck this next term.”

And then Sirius retreats to give them some privacy.

“Was that your brother and his friends being sensitive?” Violet asks.

“Or something passing for that,” Regulus jokes. “Look, to address the elephant in the room—“

Violet holds up a hand. “This might have been partially arranged by my parents and your grandfather, but I still expect a proposal, Regulus. And I mean a real proposal.”

Regulus laughs. “Planning on it.”

“Then there’s nothing more that needs to be said,” Violet replies.

They share a compartment with Byron and Myra, who bring their significant others along with them. Byron is dating a girl from his own house, Diana, and they seem cozy. Myra is dating a boy from Gryffindor, who seems pretty decent and who knew Sirius and James, since they’d played Quidditch together. David is probably the most laid-back Gryffindor Regulus has ever met, because he relaxes and mostly stays quiet.

He and Violet don’t break the news that they’re planning to get betrothed. Regulus figures he’ll let Violet decide when and how to break the news, and he suspects that she’s going to wait until she has the ring and can show it off.

“So, is it true about Elias?” Myra asks. “We heard he was marked.”

“We saw the mark ourselves,” Violet confirms. “That’s why he’s been avoiding all of us.”

Byron tips his head back. “Merlin’s pants. Why did that idiot go and do something like that?”

“Maybe he didn’t have a choice,” David drawls. “Some don’t.”

Regulus might be warming up to Gryffindors—just a bit.

“David is right,” Diana says reluctantly. “I think we all know people who have been forced into it. The problem is that it’s impossible to really tell who’s a pureblooded bigot, and who was actually forced.”

“Elias was,” Regulus says. “I don’t have proof, but Violet and I both saw the look on his face when we confronted him.”

Byron nods. “I trust you, and I trust your judgment. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get him out of it somehow.”

“Somehow,” Violet echoes, but Regulus knows that she knows the chances are good that Elias won’t be released unless or until they win the war.

It takes Regulus a few days once they get back to Hogwarts to set up the proposal, but he does as Sirius advised. Slughorn is surprisingly helpful, and Kreacher appears to be excited by the opportunity to play an important role in his plans. 

Dinner is set for the Saturday after they return, and Kreacher outdoes himself with the decorations. The classroom has been cleared of desks, with a single table in the center. There’s a white tablecloth and a candle set in the center, with candles around the room offering a soft light. There’s china and silver, flowers and warmth, and maybe this is the perfect way to propose after all. 

They had met at Hogwarts, had formed an alliance at Hogwarts, and they’d spent a fair amount of time in empty classrooms for various reasons.

Regulus is wearing his smart clothes under dress robes, and when Violet enters the room, he sees that she’s done the same. She has purple flowers threaded through her dark hair, which is up in a complicated braid, and she’s so beautiful that she takes his breath away.

Regulus can’t wait another moment, and he goes down on one knee, pulling the ring box out of his pocket.

Violet smiles. “I thought you were going to pull out all the stops, Black. I haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“I didn’t want to wait one more second,” Regulus replies. “Maybe we’re getting married sooner than we would have if there weren’t a war on, and your parents and my grandfather weren’t involved, but I would still want to marry you. You are one of the smartest, bravest witches I’ve ever known, and I want you as my partner in crime—and in all things.”

Violet is blinking rapidly. “How did you get to be so romantic all of a sudden?”

“Well, I did ask my brother for advice,” Regulus admits.

Violet sniffs and then gives a watery chuckle. “We really ought to set him up with some nice girl as soon as possible, because I am not going o be the one solely responsible for coming up with the Black heirs.”

“So noted,” Regulus replies. “So, your answer?”

“I’ve already said yes, you dolt,” Violet says fondly. “Put the ring on my finger already so we can eat. I’m absolutely starving.”

Regulus puts the ring on her fingers, his hands shaking slightly, and then he stands up and kisses her, feeling her fingers tangle in his long hair. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too,” Violet replies. “Good job, by the way.”

“I just took my brother’s advice,” Regulus feels compelled to point out.

Violet smiles. “But you asked advice from the right person, and that shows just how smart you are.”

“Right now, I feel very smart,” Regulus admits.

Chapter Text

Arcturus feels a sense of deja vu, sitting in his study across from Rockhand. They’re old friends at this point, if one can be friends with a goblin. Not that Arcturus believes that goblins and wizards can’t be friends, but he’s not sure whether Rockhand would say the same.

He would hate to be presumptuous.

Rockhand takes a sip of his tea and regards Arcturus with a sharp gaze. “You’re looking well, better than I expected.”

Arcturus nods. “I have good days and bad days. Today is a good day.”

He doesn’t say that on his bad days he has to fight just to get out of bed, but he refuses to give in, not when his boys are still in danger. When they’re safe, he won’t have to fight so hard.

“You asked whether we’ve seen an end to this war,” Rockhand says. “We have.”

Arcturus maintains his composure with some difficulty, but he feels some hope for the first time. “I see. I assume that it’s a little more complicated than that we’ll win the war.”

“Indeed,” Rockhand agrees. “There is a prophecy about a child who will defeat Voldemort.”

Arcturus blinks. “A child? Surely not.”

“Well, that’s what the wizard prophecy says,” Rockhand says dryly. “The goblin seers say something different.”

Arcturus has learned to trust the goblin seers, so he says, “I’m sure they do, and whatever they say is likely more accurate.”

“The wizard prophecy can be used to set a trap,” Rockhand says. “Voldemort will assume that killing a child would be an easy task, and the only thing standing in his way to total dominance. There are blood rituals that can be done. Your younger grandson would know how to do that.”

Arcturus frowns. “Regulus is safe in Paris. Why should he need to get involved?”

“He wouldn’t be the one doing the ritual,” Rockhand replies, sounding somewhat amused. “His parents would be the ones.”

“And who are the parents?”

“Unknown at this time,” Rockhand admits. “The prophecy could apply to one of two children: Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom.”

Arcturus feels his heart sink. Both boys had only just been born. He counts Daniel Longbottom as a friend, and knows he’s excited over the birth of his first grandchild. Arcturus hasn’t met little Harry yet, but Sirius is his godfather.

If Harry is a target, there’s no way that Sirius won’t be involved. And if Sirius’ life is at risk, Regulus will want to help.

He sighs. “I see. That does change things a bit.”

“I would say so,” Rockhand replies. “The seers don’t believe that your grandsons are likely in any additional danger, but the children are, as are their parents.”

Arcturus knows that he’s going to be opening up the Manor to the Potters, which is unplottable and will afford them more protection than any other location would.

After all, Harry Potter is Sirius’ godson, and that makes him family of a sort.

~~~~~

Sirius bounces Harry in his arms, soothing the fussy baby, unable to help the silly grin that spreads out over his face. He’d been honored to be asked to be Harry’s godfather, and had immediately said yes. He hadn’t been prepared for the overwhelming love that he felt when James placed Harry in his arms for the first time.

He doesn’t think he could love Harry more if he was his own blood.

“Are you going to let me have a turn?” Remus asks, obviously amused.

“He likes me best,” Sirius replies smugly. He and Remus had agreed to babysit Harry while James and Lily met with Dumbledore. They hadn’t known what Dumbledore wanted, but they wanted to make sure Harry was protected.

“He’s not going to get used to me if you keep hogging him,” Remus points out. “Come on, Padfoot, give him here.”

With a sigh, Sirius hands the baby to Remus, who hums happily. “How are things going with the Order?”

“I’m still taking missions,” Sirius admits. “More now than ever, to be honest. James and Lily have taken some time off, and with the deaths of the Prewitt twins, I’m busier now than I’ve ever been.”

Remus frowns. “Sirius, if you need me—“

“You have a good thing going, Moony,” Sirius says quickly. “Your work is important, and unlike me, you actually do need the money, even though I would support you if you asked.”

“And I’m not going to ask,” Remus is quick to say. “I’ll help you, but I still can’t join the Order. I don’t want to risk Dumbledore using me, not when I’m in such a good place.”

Sirius can’t blame Remus, who has a respectable job and his own flat now. He doesn’t have to worry about the full moon, or go through the painful transformation. As far as Sirius knows, he’s even dated a few people.

“Have you spoken to Wormtail lately?” Remus asks.

Sirius shakes his head. “No, not recently. He’s been scarce as hen’s teeth. Why do you ask?”

Remus shrugs. “I haven’t spoken to him either, and that’s a little more unusual. We were getting lunch together every month, but he’s been ignoring my owls.”

“He might just be busy,” Sirius says. “He has his Ministry job. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

“I hope you’re right,” Remus replies. “How is Regulus?”

Sirius sprawls on the couch next to Remus. “He’s great. He and Violet are expecting their first child.”

“You’re going to be an uncle then,” Remus says with a smile. “Congratulations. I’m sure your grandfather is over the moon.”

“Last I spoke to him, he certainly was,” Sirius replies.

“And your grandfather?” Remus asks.

Sirius sighs. “He has good days and bad days, but he’s doing better than we expected at this stage. The disease is progressing slowly, and we didn’t know whether it would be fast or slow.”

“That’s something, anyway,” Remus says.

They’ve just put Harry down for his nap when James and Lily return from their meeting with Dumbledore, looking a bit shell shocked.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius demands. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“There’s a prophecy that could be about Harry,” Lily says faintly. “Dumbledore thinks we should go into hiding, because You-Know-Who is hunting for him. He suggested putting the house under a Fidelius.”

Sirius frowns. “With a Fidelius, you’d need a Secret Keeper.”

“We were hoping you could do it,” James says. 

Sirius hesitates. “Of course, I would be happy to, but I think it would be a mistake.”

“How so?” Lily asks.

“Everyone is going to expect me to be your Secret Keeper,” Sirius points out. “And all it would take is me getting captured and tortured to reveal that secret.”

James frowns. “You wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t want to,” Sirius counters. “But we’ve both seen it before, Prongs. I’m not going to pretend that I would be able to hold up forever. If someone is that determined to get the information, they’re going to get it.”

Lily sits down in the recliner and slumps. “You make a fair point, Sirius, but what would you suggest?”

“I suggest relocating somewhere that no one can find you, and that they wouldn’t necessarily expect,” Sirius says with a smirk.

James frowns. “Black Manor?”

“Got it in one,” Sirius replies. “It’s unplottable, and no one would know that you’re there.”

“There are Death Eaters who know its location, though,” James points out. “Your brother’s friend, Elias, knows where it is.”

“And he swore on his magic not to take action against our family,” Sirius points out. “But we could put the Manor under a Fidelius if my grandfather agrees. He’s virtually a hermit anyway, so I doubt he’ll mind.”

“Speak with your grandfather,” James says reluctantly. “But Dumbledore didn’t think we should stay here without some form of protection.”

“Make me the Secret Keeper,” Remus says. “I’m not in the Order, and most people have probably forgotten that I exist.”

Lily smiles at him warmly. “We haven’t, Moony.”

“And you happen to be the only people I care about not forgetting about me,” Remus says. “I’m happy to play it safe these days.”

“Moony wouldn’t be the obvious choice,” Sirius admits. “And if he took precautions when coming here, it would be safe enough. In fact, even if you do relocate to Black Manor, putting the house under a Fidelius might throw people off. They’ll naturally assume that you’re here.”

James nods. “Okay, that sounds like a solid plan.”

The Fidelius is quickly cast, and they have dinner together, with Harry gurgling happily in Sirius’ arms. “I’ll go see my grandfather tomorrow,” Sirius says. “I’ll ask him about it then.”

“Thank you,” James says. “I really appreciate you doing that, Padfoot.”

“Anything for my godson,” Sirius replies. “You know that.”

Sirius is as good as his word. He sends an owl that night, to let his grandfather know that he’s coming, and then apparates to Black Manor mid-morning. Arcturus is in his study, and he says, “I was expecting you. Tea?”

“Please and thank you,” Sirius replies. “How are you feeling?”

Arcturus raises an eyebrow as Sirius sits down across from him, a cup of tea appearing on the desk in front of him. “You ask me that every time you see me. You’re not going to ask why I was expecting you?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Sirius says, amused. “So?”

“I’m feeling just fine,” Arcturus says, a little huffy. 

Sirius grins at him. “How did you know I would be coming?”

“There’s a prophecy,” Arcturus replies. “Rockhand told me. Harry is a possible subject.”

Sirius nods. “That would be the reason that I’m here, yes. Dumbledore informed James and Lily about the prophecy yesterday. We’ve put their house under a Fidelius.”

Arcturus frowns. “Are you their Secret Keeper?”

“No, I thought it would be too obvious,” Sirius replies. “We chose another.”

“Remus, I suppose,” Arcturus comments. “He’s a good choice, since he’s stayed out of the Order.”

Sirius nods. “Thanks to you, yes, he has. He knows that Dumbledore would send him to the packs, and he doesn’t want to go.”

“I don’t blame him,” Arcturus replies. “Remus always struck me as a clever one. Being used as a pawn wouldn’t agree with him, and is unlikely to do any good. The packs are never going to trust a wizard, and they’re too disorganized to be of any use.”

That’s Sirius’ take as well, and is another reason that he’s protected Remus from Dumbledore’s interest. “Anyone who knows the Potters well is going to assume that I’m the Secret Keeper, but if they discover that I’m not, the next guess will be Remus.”

“I assume that you want to relocate them here,” Arcturus says. “And of course my answer is yes.”

Sirius nods. “Did the goblins say anything else about the prophecy?”

“They think we can use it as a trap for Voldemort,” Arcturus says. “Through a ritual. Rockhand seems to think your brother might know the right one.”

Sirius nods slowly. “Right. I’ll go see him after we’ve relocated the Potters, then. Thank you for this, Grandfather.”

“Think nothing of it, my boy,” Arcturus replies. “James is a distant cousin, after all, and Harry is your godson. That makes them family.”

Sirius wants to ask how his grandfather could define family so broadly, and yet so narrowly, all at the same time, but he knows why already. His grandfather wants the Black line to continue, and anything that threatens him or Regulus is something he will do anything he can to prevent.

That’s just his grandfather, but he won’t be the Black patriarch forever. One of these days, Sirius will lead the family, and he’ll make the decisions as to who’s in and who’s out.

~~~~~

Regulus strolls through magical Paris on his way back from lunch. He has a few more hours of work left, and then he plans to take Violet out for dinner, to give her a break from cooking. In her condition, she shouldn’t be on her feet too much.

He’s not really paying much attention to his surroundings, and he should know better. Although the Death Eaters’ violence is mostly contained to the United Kingdom, it has spilled over onto the Continent a few times. Paris might be relatively safe, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be vigilant.

But he’s thinking about the report he needs to write on magical contracts, and so he’s startled when a hand appears out of nowhere and grabs his arm, yanking him into an alley. Regulus’ wand is in his hand immediately, but the person who grabbed him is ready for that, and shoves him up against the brick wall, the tip of his wand digging into Regulus’ throat.

He suddenly realizes who’s holding him at wand point. “Elias? What—are you here to kill me?”

“No, I’m here to make good on my vow,” Elias replies, taking a step back. “I just needed to make sure I had your attention.”

“Mission bloody well accomplished,” Regulus replies, exasperated, but then he sees the state that Elias is in. He has deep, dark circles under his eyes, and a pallor that speaks of illness or of not enough time in the sun. “You look terrible.”

“Be glad you were never marked, Reg,” Elias replies hoarsely. “The strain on your magic is terrible.”

Regulus swallows, knowing all too well that Elias’ fate could very well have been his. “I am glad. What’s going on?”

“You need to know that Peter Pettigrew was marked,” Elias says. “Last week. And he was entrusted with a mission from the Dark Lord.”

Regulus swallows. “Are you sure?”

“I was there when it was done,” Elias replies. “I swore on my magic that I wouldn’t act against you or your family, so I knew I had to warn you, let you warn your brother and grandfather.”

Regulus nods. “Do you know what his mission was?”

“No, but I believe it has something to do with the Potters’ child,” Elias replies. “He’s hunting them.”

Regulus frowns. “Why?”

“There’s a prophecy, but I don’t know the details,” Elias admits. “Just that the Dark Lord thinks the boy is a threat to him.”

Regulus lets out a breath. “Okay. I’ll pass the word along. Can I—do you want to come by for a meal, or—“

“I can’t be seen with you,” Elias replies. “This was a big enough risk as it is. I have to be back in England this evening.”

Regulus nods. “Good luck, Elias, and if there’s ever anything I can do—“

Elias manages a smile. “I know. Thank you.” And then he apparates away.

Regulus goes back to the office where he’s reading law, and he tries to focus, but Elias’ words and his appearance keep replaying through his mind. Regulus finally gives it up, and he sticks his head into his boss’ office. “Monsieur Thibeault, forgive me, but I need to leave early today.”

Thibeault looks up. “Is everything all right, Monsieur Black?”

“Just some upsetting news from home, that’s all,” Regulus replies. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Let me know if you need some more time off,” Thibeault replies. “You’ve been an excellent clerk, Regulus. I would hate to lose you, but I can give you time off if needed.”

“I appreciate that, and I’ll let you know,” Regulus promises. “I’m hoping it won’t be necessary.”

He apparates straight to the hall right outside of their Paris flat, not wanting to startle Violet. He unlocks the door, and calls out, “Violet? Are you home?”

“I’m here,” Violet calls. “You’re home early.”

“I saw Elias,” Regulus says. “He pulled me into an alley at want point.”

Violet rushes over to him. She’s about five months along, and hasn’t slowed down yet. Regulus wants her to stop working, since she’s working in a shop that sells spell ingredients, but so far she’s refused. He kind of loves the fact that she wants to be independent, even though she wouldn’t have to be. 

“Are you all right?” she demands. “Were you hurt? Was he?”

Regulus shakes his head. “No, he just wanted to warn me. Pettigrew has been marked.”

Violet frowns. “That’s a coincidence. We just got a letter from your brother today. He addressed it to both of us, so I went ahead and opened it. He’s going to be here the day after tomorrow.”

She grabs the letter and hands it to him. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

Regulus shakes his head. “He wouldn’t have addressed it to both of us if he meant it to be private. Don’t worry about it.”

He quickly scans the letter.

Dear Reg and Vi,

Business is going to bring me to Paris the day after tomorrow, so I’ll be stopping in to see the two of you. I want to make sure you two are taking good care of the newest Black, not that I have any doubts. See you soon.

Love, 

Sirius

“That’s odd,” Regulus says.

“What’s odd?” Violet asks.

“He didn’t say anything about needing or wanting a response from us before he just showed up,” Regulus replies.

“It’s not like we would turn him away,” Violet objects.

Regulus shakes his head. “No, of course not, and Sirius knows that. But we had politeness drilled into us, and the polite thing to do would be to give us the opportunity to turn him away if we had other plans. He didn’t do that, which means there’s an emergency of some sort, something he didn’t want to put in a letter.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out what that is the day after tomorrow,” Violet says. “There’s no sense worrying about it now.”

“Except that Pettigrew knows where Black Manor is,” Regulus replies. “And he could lead the Death Eaters directly there.”

Violet frowns. “Do you really think he would?”

“I don’t know,” Regulus replies. “That’s the problem. Elias took a huge risk by warning me.”

Violet caresses his face. “I know, but I think we have to wait. Clearly, Sirius couldn’t say much. He’s worried about the message being intercepted. We don’t have a secure way of warning him. We have to wait for him, and hope for the best.”

Regulus sighs, knowing that she’s right, and he pulls her close. They’ve been married for a year and a half, and his love has only deepened. She’s beautiful and smart and kind, and now she’s going to be the mother of their child.

“I love you,” Regulus says. “You know that.”

“I do know that,” Violet replies. “And you’re going to be an excellent father, and we are going to be fine. Your family is going to be fine.”

“Is that a promise?” Regulus asks.

Violet smiles. “It is. I’ve been right so far, haven’t I?”

“You have been,” Regulus replies. “You very nearly always are.”

“Nearly?” Violet counters.

Regulus laughs, since it’s an old discussion. Violet insists that she’s always right, and Regulus not quite ready to agree. “Nearly,” he insists.

“You keep telling yourself that, Regulus Black,” she says. “Maybe one day, you’ll even be convincing.”

Regulus goes back to work the next day, and he manages to focus enough to get the job done, even if he’s not as productive as he normally is. 

He does ask for the following day off, since he isn’t sure when Sirius is getting into town, and he wants to be prepared. He picks up what they need for dinner at the market, although he plans on being the one to cook. Violet had taught him everything he knows, laughing at his sheer ineptitude until he’d been forced to learn.

Plus, he’s pretty sure that Sirius doesn’t know how to cook, and he’d like to impress his brother.

Violet is at work when he returns to the flat, and Regulus puts the groceries away. He doesn’t have much to do other than wait, so he reads a book, going back over the books that his parents had given him for Christmas all those years ago. He’d been reading up on protection rituals now that Violet is pregnant. 

Anything that she could activate if she were attacked, anything that would protect their unborn child. There are no lengths to which Regulus would not go.

A brisk knock sounds, and Regulus draws his wand. He looks through the peephole, and he sees Sirius standing on the other side.

Regulus opens the door, and it’s the first time he sees his brother in person in at least six months. The Blacks might not be physically affectionate, but Regulus can’t resist throwing his arms around his brighter in a tight hug.

“Come on, Reg,” Sirius says laughingly. “You aren’t even going to do an identity check? You know better.”

Regulus does know better, but he’d been too happy to see his brother to do it. Now, he casts a revelio, and nothing turns up. “Sirius.”

“I’m happy to see you, too,” Sirius replies. “But I could still be under polyjuice.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “But you’re not.”

“And why is that?” Sirius asks.

“Because you’re going to tell me what my animagus form is,” Regulus replies.

“You’re a goshawk,” Sirius says. 

“And you’re a Grim, or something that looks like one.” Regulus stands aside. “Come on in. Your letter was strangely cryptic.”

“I didn’t want to risk it being intercepted,” Sirius replies. “Where is Violet?”

“At work,” Regulus says. “And before you say it, I know, but she insists, and I’ve learned that arguing with her is inadvisable, even if we are married.”

Sirius laughs. “I’d say especially since you are married. She knows where you sleep.”

“She does,” Regulus says. “But you didn’t respond to the question.”

Sirius sighs. “Do you have anything to drink? Portkeys leave me parched.”

“I’ll grab a couple of butter beers,” Regulus replies.

Sirius makes himself at home at their kitchen table, and Regulus grabs their drinks. “What’s up with you?” Sirius asks. “Because I can tell there’s something. You should have new father glow, and instead you seem spooked.”

Regulus glares at him. “What would you know about new father glow?”

“Harry is only a few months old, so I’m intimately familiar with new father glow, you berk,” Sirius says. “What’s up?”

The news is sitting like a heavy stone in Regulus’ chest. “Elias found me the other day. He grabbed me and said that Pettigrew had taken the mark.”

Sirius hisses. “What.”

“He said he’d witnessed it himself, and he was fulfilling the promise he made on his magic,” Regulus replies. “You can’t trust Peter, Siri.”

“I know,” Sirius says. “I mean, I’ve known for a long time, but you gave me a concrete reason just now. He’s probably going to try to come after Harry.”

Regulus frowns. “Your godson?”

“That’s the one,” Sirius replies. “There’s a prophecy, where he’s foretold to stand against the Dark Lord.”

Regulus glares. “Why are you calling him that?”

Sirius grins. “Good catch, but that’s actually what the prophecy says. We put the house under a Fidelius and relocated them to Black Manor, but if Peter is a Death Eater, we’ll need to take more precautions than that. The goblins think we can use the prophecy to trap the dark git, though, and that you might know the spell to do it.”

Regulus blows out a breath. “Yes, I mean, I’ve been looking up spells for Violet and our child. If you give me a couple of days, I think I can come up with something.”

Sirius smirks at him. “How comfortable is your couch?”

“We have a guest room,” Regulus says firmly. “And you can stay in it as long as you don’t make more work for Violet.”

“Now, why would I do that when she’s doing the hard work of carrying my niece or nephew?” Sirius asks. “I promise, you’ll know I’m here, but only in the best possible way.”

Since time seems to be of the essence, Regulus sends an owl to his boss, requesting time off for said family emergency. Then, Regulus goes back to the books. He’s a little surprised that Sirius and the Potters are even willing to consider a blood ritual, but Regulus isn’t even a parent yet, and already he can’t think of anything he wouldn’t do for his child. He doubts the Potters are any different.

When Violet returns home that evening, Sirius produces two gifts from his small suitcase for her. “One from me, and one from our grandfather,” Sirius says with a charming grin. “For the mother-to-be.”

Violet smiles. “Isn’t that a nice surprise? Right along with you being here, of course.”

She opens Arcturus’ gift first and Regulus sees a very traditional new-mother gift in pureblood families, a beautiful necklace with a diamond pendant. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

“It was our grandmother’s,” Sirius explains. “Grandfather thought you should have it. He bought it for her when she was pregnant with their oldest.”

Violet sniffs. “That’s so sweet.”

“I’m afraid my gift isn’t so fancy,” Sirius confesses, handing her the second gift. Inside the box is a soft baby blanket wrapped around a book titled, “Magical Parenting: What You Need to Know.”

“One of the Order members knits,” Sirius says. “I asked her to make the blanket when Reg gave me the news. It’s not a diamond necklace—“

“Stop it,” Violet says firmly. “The blanket and the book are both lovely gestures, and I very much appreciate them. It was very thoughtful.”

“Anything for my new niece or nephew,” Sirius replies. “And I’ll have you know that I’m getting pretty good at this whole babysitting thing, so I’m happy to portkey over to help out.”

“That’s a very generous offer,” Violet replies. “Being a godfather suits you, Sirius.”

Sirius laughs. “I can’t help it. I love that kid, and I’m going to enjoy being an uncle just as much, I know.”

And it becomes clear over the next couple of days that Sirius is invested in just that. He’s an excellent house guest, and he’s solicitous of Violet. It’s clear that he has some experience around a pregnant person, because he seems hellbent on making sure that she doesn’t have to lift a finger.

He confesses that he’s not much of a cook, but he can make breakfast, and he can go pick up whatever she expresses an interest in eating. While Regulus researches, he regales Violet with stories of his time with the Order, sticking to the more amusing tales.

In short, Sirius makes himself indispensable and charming, and Regulus wouldn’t mind if he visited more often. It’s a different side to Sirius than what he’s seen before, and he loves him the better for it.

After two days of straight research, Regulus thinks he has the answer that Sirius is seeking.

“There’s a blood ritual that is best performed by both parents, but particularly the mother,” Regulus says over dinner and drinks. Sirius had sourced take-away, and Violet is working an evening shift at her job. “It will turn any spell against the caster, including any unforgivable curse.”

Sirius leans back in his chair, his expression grim. “Then we could set a trap.”

“You could,” Regulus agrees. “The ritual can take one of two forms. It can either protect a place, like a nursery, or a person. I’d recommend a place, since doing otherwise would mean using Harry as bait.”

“Can we do both?” Sirius asks.

Regulus has anticipated that question. “You can, but only one person or pair of people can fuel the spell. The spell will be stronger if both of the Potters participate.”

“What about me?” Sirius asks. “What if I do the spell?”

And that is a question that Regulus hadn’t anticipated, but he knows the answer. “You could, but it wouldn’t be as protective.”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “You’re going to be a parent. What would you do?”

Regulus blows out a breath. “You would ask me that. I don’t—I don’t know, Sirius. The parent in me says to throw everything at protecting Harry, but if you can set a trap and defeat the bastard, Harry wouldn’t need that kind of protection.”

“If I did the spell on Harry’s nursery, and we trap him, would the spell still reflect back on him?” Sirius asks.

Regulus considers the question. “It would, but maybe not as strongly. As strong as he is, unless the protection ritual is at full strength, I don’t think it’s going to take him out.”

Sirius drums his fingers on the table. “Fair point. Once the protection ritual is spent, can it be recast?”

Regulus nods. “If it’s cast on a place, not a person. Once it’s cast on a person, it’s a one and done.”

“What’s the cost of casting the spell?” Sirius asks shrewdly.

“On a place, negligible,” Regulus replies. “On a person, you’re tying your life force to theirs.”

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “Wait, so James and Lily could cast the spell on Harry’s nursery to set a trap, and I could cast on Harry. I’m legally his third parent, so—“

Regulus holds up a hand. “What do you mean, you’re his third parent?”

“We didn’t want to take any risks that Harry would go to Lily’s sister,” Sirius explains. “We thought the best way to prevent that from happening would be for me to take oaths as a parent.”

“That changes things,” Regulus admits slowly. “Magically, you’re as invested in Harry as his parents. Your idea has merit. If you could also cast a spell creating simulacrums of the Potters and Harry, real enough to fool Voldemort, you could create a trap that way.”

Sirius nods slowly. “Remus is talented enough to do it. And now that we know Peter is marked, we can use that. Elias may have just handed us the key to stopping the dark git. When this is over, I’ll make sure everyone knows that he helped. I know what kind of risk he took coming to you.”

Regulus lets out a relieved sigh, knowing that Sirius’ word is going to mean more than his. “Thank you.”

“I remember the people who help me,” Sirius replies. “And Elias helped us. If he hadn’t warned us, we might have shared the Potters’ location with Peter.”

“I want to come back to England,” Regulus says. “I want my child to know you and our grandfather. I want Grandfather to know my child.”

“You’ve helped,” Sirius replies. “More than that, you’ve handed us the key to the problem. I’m going to bring you home.”

Regulus glances away. “It’s been really good to have you here, Siri.”

“It’s been good to be here,” Sirius replies. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Regulus says. “Who would have thought?”

“I would have,” Sirius replies. “I always missed you, Reg.”

Regulus takes a deep breath. “Thank Merlin for Grandfather, huh?”

“In more ways than one,” Sirius says.

~~~~~

Sirius returns to England and heads immediately for Black Manor. The news about Wormtail means that they need to take immediate steps to secure the Manor against him. His grandfather had some reservations about putting the Manor under a Fidelius. Since Elias had taken an oath on his magic, there hadn’t been a sense of urgency.

That has all changed now.

He’d sent a message to Remus, asking him to meet them at Black Manor once Sirius is back in town, with a date and time, and so Remus, James, and Lily are all present when Sirius arrives. Cordy tells Sirius that they’re in the study.

“Where’s Grandfather?” Sirius asks.

Cordy lets out a little laugh. “Oh, he in study, too. Lord Black get the reputation as a baby whisperer.”

Sirius frowns, and decides that he has to see this for himself. Sure enough, James, Lily and Remus are all sitting around a tea service with a platter of snacks, and Arcturus has Harry bouncing on his knee, a silly grin on his face.

Sirius’ eyebrows go straight up, but he keeps his first comment to himself. Harry is giggling happily, James and Lily are wearing indulgent smiles, and his grandfather looks happier than Sirius has ever seen him.

“Hi all,” Sirius says. 

His grandfather glances up. “And when are you going to provide me with grandchildren, hmm?”

“I think Regulus has that covered for the moment, Grandfather,” Sirius replies. “Violet is glowing, as is Regulus.”

“Did she like the gift?” Arcturus asks.

“She cried happy tears,” Sirius replies. “It was a hit. I see that you’ve made friends with my godson.”

Arcturus is unabashed. “He’s a delightful baby. I always enjoyed babies.”

Sirius blinks. “That…is not something I knew.”

“Why should you?” Arcturus asks. “Since you haven’t provided me with great-grandchildren.”

Sirius can tell that this is going to be a theme. “Never mind that. Regulus’ friend, Elias, found him in Paris.”

Arcturus goes still and solemn. “Is he all right?”

“I would have led with that if he weren’t,” Sirius replies, and then he looks at James and Remus. “Elias told Reg that Peter had been marked. Said he was there when it happened.”

James frowns. “You have to be kidding.”

“He was very clear with Regulus,” Sirius says. “Peter is a Death Eater now.”

Remus curses bitterly, using language that Sirius hasn’t heard from him before. “I knew something had changed. He was avoiding me.”

“You were right to be worried,” Sirius admits. “But we all know that Wormtail doesn’t have the strongest constitution.”

“Maybe we should have given him a reason not to join the Death Eaters,” James mutters. “If we had—“

“No.” Remus is the one to speak, his tone sharp. “Peter made his choice. He knows that he could have come to us, or even to Lord Black for protection. We all have choices to make, and drifting away from his friends isn’t an excuse to join the enemy.”

“Remus is right,” Lily says firmly. “Severus was my best friend, and he joined the Death Eaters. He could have done just about anything, but he joined them instead.”

“At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter,” Sirius insists. “We know he’s been marked, and we know that Voldemort is hunting for Harry. If the dark git isn’t a complete idiot—and we all know he isn’t—he’s going to use Wormtail to get to him.”

Arcturus clears his throat. “I think we should put the Manor under a Fidelius. I wasn’t certain before, but this changes things. Peter hasn’t taken an oath not to act against our family.”

Sirius nods. “I can be the Secret Keeper for the Manor.”

Arcturus nods. “Good. I would prefer that, and I’d prefer that you visit your brother again, in person. If Elias has found him in Paris, it’s possible that other Death Eaters will follow. I’d like to ensure that they can safely retreat here.”

Sirius has no problem with that, especially since Regulus will really need the retreat if he has to come here. “Of course. Right after we do the blood ritual, because we have a plan.”

“I’d like to hear it,” James says. “Because I’m not sure that I’m okay with a blood ritual.”

“I am,” Lily says firmly. “Unless we have to use someone else’s blood without their consent.”

Sirius shakes his head. “I know better than that. Regulus was already researching protection rituals for their child. We can cast it both on Harry, and on his nursery.”

Remus immediately understands. “What would you use for bait?”

“Simulacrums,” Sirius replies. “With strong enough wizards or witches, we can set a very realistic looking trap. If we play our cards right, we can even use Peter to do it.”

James grins. “I like the way you think.”

Sirius holds out his hands. “Can I have my godson now while we talk about this?”

Arcturus sighs deeply. “Fine. I suppose.”

Sirius grabs Harry and raises him high. “And how’s my favorite godson?”

“He’s your only godson,” Lily points out, sounding amused.

“Hopefully, not forever,” Sirius replies, cuddling Harry close. “But Harry will always be my favorite.”

Harry reaches out and tugs on Sirius’ hair, cooing. “See? I’m his favorite, too.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Remus says, but his tone is fond. “Come on, Pads. Tell us how we’re going to defeat this dark bastard.”

It’s not as easy as just saying the words, of course. The protection ritual isn’t easy, nor is it without risk, and they have to cast it both on Henry, and on the nursery at the Potters’ cottage. There’s a ritual circle at the Manor, where they can do the spell on Harry, but they’ll need more preparation for the cottage. And they’ll need to do it under the cover of darkness, so that no one notices.

But, in a way, it is easy, because they’re a united front, and it’s like when they were in Hogwarts planning their elaborate pranks. They’ve been practicing for this moment their entire lives it seems like, and maybe just for this very moment.

They’re going to take down a Dark Lord, protect Harry, and maybe even save the world while they’re at it.

~~~~

Arcturus shouldn’t be surprised at how much he likes having the Potters around. They’re both lively young people, who are good houseguests, and are kind and respectful. But even if they weren’t all those things, he would tolerate their presence for Harry. 

Harry exudes magic. He has his mother’s green eyes, which sparkle, and while he can be fussy, he’s easily distracted by something that keeps his attention. It could be a glowing ball of light, or imaginary butterflies, or one of a hundred things.

He isn’t talking yet, not intelligibly, but Arcturus is teaching him to say grandpa for the day he inevitably does, because he knows that James and Lily both lost their parents the previous year—Lily’s to natural causes, and James’ to the Death Eaters. There is no other grandparent to compete, and so Arcturus plans on filling the role as long as he can.

And Arcturus hadn’t lied to Sirius. He’d enjoyed this stage with his own children, but by the time they were older, he’d been busy with his work at the Wizengamot, busy with his estates, and he hadn’t made the time as he had when they were brand new. When they went to Hogwarts, he hadn’t made the effort to stay in touch, not the way his wife had. He thought she would make up for any deficits.

He’s come to realize that there is no substitute for the human touch.

Harry has fallen asleep in Arcturus’ arms during the planning session, and that had been a lesson in and of itself. His heir and his friends could have been generals with the precision of their planning. All three boys are smart and cunning, and with the addition of Lily, he suspects they’ve only improved on things.

“You’re very good with him, you know,” Lily says.

Arcturus glances up, surprised, realizing that he’d been half-dozing himself. “Forgive me.”

“No, it’s good for—“ Her voice falters. “He’ll never know his grandparents, but it would be good to have someone who will spoil him like a grandfather would. Sirius will—well, I’m sure he’ll encourage all kinds of things I’m not in favor of, but that’s what a godfather is for, and I know that Sirius would protect him with his life if necessary.”

Arcturus looks down at the sleeping boy in his arms. “As would I, but if we put Black Manor under a Fidelius, it shouldn’t be necessary. Harry will have Sirius, and me, and even Regulus and Violet if it comes to that.”

Lily nods. “We have a very detailed will. I’d like to leave you with a copy, just in case.”

“Of course,” Arcturus replies. “I have a veritable army of solicitors. We’ll make sure your wishes are carried out. What has you most concerned?”

“I’m not sure,” Lily admits. “I just know that the last person I want to raise my child is my sister, and she’d be the natural choice with our parents gone, and James an only child. Sometimes I wonder if Sirius being the godfather is even enough, even if he did take oaths that make him Harry’s third parent. James tried to explain the difference to me, but—“

Arcturus clears his throat. “No offense to James, but I might be able to do a better job there. A godparent, in magical terms, is important. It’s the person you have entrusted the care of your child to should something happen. As Harry’s godfather, Sirius has obligations and oaths. But as his third parent, unless something should happen to him that would render him incapable of fulfilling those duties—death, incapacitation, or incarceration—he would be Harry’s caregiver. There would be no question of custody.”

Lily frowns. “But we’re not—I mean—“

Arcturus smiles gently. “It’s generally only an oath taken in a time of war, when both parents’ lives may be threatened. Sometimes it’s done because there’s a threesome, but it’s not required, only that the parents of the child trust the third parent enough to make such oaths.” He hesitates, and then adds, “It also makes Harry the heir to the House of Black.”

Lily rubs her eyes. “Really?”

“There are ways to get out of it,” Arcturus replies. “Ways to choose another heir, but if Sirius never marries, or if he never has children, Harry will inherit.”

Lily gives him a long, hard look. “And is that a problem for you?”

“Why would it be?” Arcturus asks. “Just look at Harry. He’s very magical. His parents are very accomplished. I have no objections.”

“He’s a half-blood,” Lily points out.

“Hm,” Arcturus replies. “Perhaps that’s true, but I’d rather Harry be Sirius’ heir than Malfoy’s son, who’s likely to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

Lily is quiet for a long moment, and then she says, “When James and Sirius convinced me to come here, I had assumed I’d have to make the best of it, and you’d be horrible or at least very cold to me, and to Harry. Being here, I’m beginning to understand the changes I saw in both James and Sirius in sixth year, and why Regulus is married and expecting and studying law. I am very happy that Harry will get a chance to know his great-grandfather.”

Arcturus maintains his composure. “Yes, well, it’s been lovely to have all of you here. It makes the place feel alive again.”

Lily stands and then leans down to kiss his cheek. “May your family always surround you, Grandfather.”

He hasn’t invited the familiarity, but he’s glad that she’s taken it. It’s something his late wife would have done. “Thank you for making a beautiful baby.”

Lily places a hand on Harry’s head. “I hope there’s more where he came from. I’d like to have a big family.”

Arcturus hopes she gets that chance, but in the meantime, he’s going to enjoy Harry’s easy company.

~~~~~

Regulus isn’t too worried about someone finding them in their Paris flat. Like the Manor, and Sirius’ London flat, it’s unplottable, He hasn’t provided his address to anyone, other than his boss, and the wards are near-lethal if someone isn’t recognized.

He’s also not expecting to see his brother again so soon, because it’s been months between visits over the last three years. This time, it’s only a couple of weeks, although Sirius only stops in for dinner, with plans to head back to England immediately after.

“What’s going on?” Regulus asks when Sirius knocks on the door, stepping aside to allow him to enter. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but your note was cryptic, and we just saw you a couple of weeks ago.”

“We put Black Manor under a Fidelius, and we’re about to embark on a plan to hopefully end the war,” Sirius replies. “Grandfather wanted to be sure that you could retreat there if necessary, especially with the baby on the way.”

Regulus relaxes at that. “I thought maybe—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I’m just glad that’s all that’s going on.”

“Grandfather is in good health,” Sirius insists. “He’s hoping that you’ll either be able to travel there, or that he’s capable of coming here. You should see him with Harry. It turns out that he’s a baby-hog.”

Regulus laughs. “That’s a surprise.”

“That’s what I said, and then he reminded me that I would know if I had provided him with great-grandchildren,” Sirius says dryly. 

Regulus laughs even harder at that. “You know you’re going to be getting that until you get married and start producing children.”

“Now, why would I want to do that?” Sirius asks with a grin. “I have you and James for that.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Violet insisted on picking up food. It’s from the bistro just down the street, and she wanted to get some exercise.”

“I’ve heard exercise is good for pregnant people,” Sirius replies. “And she’s carrying your child. I’m pretty sure she gets to do whatever she wants, within reason.”

“You said it, not me,” Regulus replies. He pours them each a glass of wine, “I’m sure you’ll want to tell both of us at once.”

Sirius nods. “I do, not that it makes any difference, I suppose.”

“I’m sure we’d both like to hear how Grandfather is doing,” Regulus says, just as the door opens and Violet comes in carrying take away bags. He immediately stands to help her, and Violet waves him off irritably.

“I’m fine, Reg,” she says. “I’m not even seven months pregnant. Don’t make me feel like I’m actually a whale.”

“You’re not a whale,” Regulus replies immediately, because she certainly isn’t. She might be obviously with child, but she’s getting around just fine.

“Try telling that to my ankles,” Violet replies, still irritable, but she flashes Sirius a smile. “It’s good to see you again so soon, Siri. How are things going?”

“Things are progressing,” Sirius replies. “We have a plan, but before we can start executing, Grandfather wanted to be sure that the two of you could retreat to the Manor if necessary. We’re hoping it’s not, but if you need to go there—“

“We’ll really need to go,” Regulus agrees.

“Since we put the Manor under a Fidelius because of Peter, and I’m the Secret Keeper, I needed to tell you the location in person,” Sirius explains. “Black Manor is located two miles to the west of Westerling Village, at the end of Evers Lane.”

Regulus takes a deep breath. “Black Manor is two miles west of Westerling Village, at the end of Evers Lane.”

The knowledge sinks into him, and Regulus hadn’t known until just that moment that he wouldn’t have been able to apparate—or side-along Violet—to the Manor.

“Thank you for coming to tell us,” Regulus says. “I didn’t realize…”

“It can be disconcerting,” Sirius agrees. “I felt the same way when the Potters placed their cottage under the Fidelius with Remus as the Secret Keeper until he told me its location.”

“What are you going to do?” Violet asks.

Sirius shakes his head. “It’s best if you don’t know. We’re playing for all the Gobstones, and we can’t risk anyone finding out who shouldn’t.”

“Smart,” Regulus says. “We won’t ask any more questions, then.”

Violet groans. “I hate that we can’t know! Fine, but you have to send an owl as soon as it’s over.”

Sirius smirks. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll portkey over myself to let you know as soon as possible.”

“Thanks,” Regulus replies, and then he asks, feeling a spike of anxiety, “Do you think you’ll be done in time for Violet to give birth in England? I’d like Grandfather to be there.”

“I’m going to do my best,” Sirius promises, and he puts his hand on Regulus’ where it rests on the table. “I want to be there, too.”

“It’s a boy,” Violet bursts out. “We asked the Healer to tell us so we could pick a name. We agreed on Orion.”

Sirius flushes. “Oh. I don’t—“

“Yes, we’re naming him after you, you wanker,” Regulus says. “It’s in keeping with family naming convention, and I hope you’ll agree to be the godfather, and not just the uncle.”

It’s not just about the fact that Sirius is obviously enamored with being a godfather and an uncle. It’s also about the fact that Sirius will be the head of the House of Black, and Regulus wants to ensure that his son is ensconced in the bosom of said family.

“You know, he’ll probably grow up with a whole passel of kids, if everything goes well,” Sirius says. “Lily wants a big family, so he’ll have plenty of cousins.”

Regulus smiles, thinking about the idea. “We’re hoping for at least a few ourselves. Maybe we’ll fill up the Manor.”

“Grandfather will love that,” Sirius replies.

“When are you going to get married?” Violet asks. “I have some friends who might suit if you’re interested.”

Sirius shakes her head. “Maybe after the war. When this is all over. I wouldn’t want to risk leaving someone a widow.”

“Unless you’re interested in someone else,” Regulus says. “If that’s it—if it’s, um…” He trails off, not knowing how to broach the subject. 

“I’m interested in both men and women, and no, there’s no one definite,” Sirius says. 

Regulus clears his throat. “Not Remus?”

Sirius shakes his head briefly. “No.”

There’s a part of Regulus that wonders if Sirius hadn’t been in love with James, but it’s none of his business at the end of the day, and it’s a moot point. It’s clear to him that James is deeply in love with Lily, and looks at Sirius as a brother.

“When this is all past us,” Violet says, “I have a list of eligible friends, and some of them were even in Gryffindor.”

Sirius smiles gently. “When this is all over.”

And Regulus wonders if part of Sirius’ hesitation is that he doesn’t think he’ll survive that long.

~~~~~

Once he returns to England, the plan is full speed ahead. There’s a ritual circle in Black Manor, which means they can cast the protection spell on Harry there. As the heir, Sirius feels the circle welcome him. As Harry’s third parent, being bound by strict oaths, the protection spell taking effect settles on him like a heavy blanket. It’s not a burden; it’s even comforting.

Sirius feels the new tug on his magic after the ritual, and he welcomes it.

“How does it feel?” James asks anxiously.

“Like a warm blanket,” Sirius replies. “I know that Harry is protected.”

Lily smiles. “I knew we’d made the right choice with Harry’s godfather. What about the cottage?”

“We’ll have to build the ritual circle, and we’ll have to do it at night, after the sun sets, so no one gets wind of it,” Sirius replies. “The cottage has a cellar, right?”

James nods. “Yes, there’s a cellar.”

“There’s a way to build the circle in the cellar that extends upward,” Arcturus says, entering the room. “I can tell you’ve been successful, my boy. I can see your magic on Harry.”

“How do we do build the ritual circle?” James asks.

“We can talk about that after dinner,” Arcturus says firmly. “You’re going to need to eat, Sirius. That was a significant ritual.”

Sirius’ legs are feeling a little shaky, so he can’t argue. “Let’s eat.”

The house elves produce a meal fit for kings—as usual—and Sirius feels much more like himself once he’s eaten. Lily takes Harry into the other room after dinner to feed him, and Arcturus says, “There’s a book on a shelf in my study, behind my desk. It’s the third shelf down, the large, leather bound one with a black cover.”

Sirius goes into the study and finds the book, realizing that it’s a family grimoire. He’s not surprised that their family has a spell for a circle for blood magic. 

There’s a reason his parents gave Regulus a set of books on blood magic for Christmas.

Arcturus takes the book and flips to a particular page, then hands it back. “It’s going to take you at least two weeks to build it, and it would be better if no one knew you were doing it.”

Sirius peruses the spell and winces, seeing all the ingredients needed, all the steps to the ritual, and he knows this is going to be one of the most complicated undertakings he’s ever done. He feels confident that he can do it, though.

“If you build the circle, it will be yours, not James’,” Arcturus warns him.

James frowns. “So, I should build the circle?”

“You and Lily,” Arcturus replies. “Sirius and Remus can help, and you’ll need their power, but you and Lily should build it together.”

James takes the book and starts to read through the spell. “This is considerably more involved than the map, but with Lily and Remus, we can get it done. If we work at night, and leave Harry here, we can get it done without risking him.” He glances at Arcturus. “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“You didn’t even need to ask,” Arcturus replies.

Lily comes back into the room with Harry, and she hands him and a burping rag to James, grabbing the book from him. “Is this the spell?”

“That’s the one,” Sirius replies. “You and James will have to be the primary builders.”

“It will work better for the spell if we are,” Lily agrees. “We can use it to power the wards on the cottage, as well as the protection spell, particularly if we do the wards at the same time.”

Arcturus’ expression is very pleased. “That’s an excellent idea.”

“I’ve been called the brightest witch of my age,” Lily says, flashing a smile. 

“For a very good reason, obviously,” Arcturus. “And as I’ve already told your husband, Harry can stay here with me.”

Lily’s smile goes soft. “Thank you, that’s a great relief.”

Arcturus smiles. “It’s my pleasure. I recommend not starting tonight, no matter how much you’d like to do so. You’re more tired than you know, Sirius, and you’re going to be providing a lot of power for that spell.”

Sirius knows his grandfather is correct, and he agrees. “We’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight and start preparing tomorrow.”

“We made a good start today,” James insists. “In two weeks, we’ll have the tools we need to defeat Voldemort.”

~~~~~

Arcturus is rather impressed with his grandson, and he’s pleased to watch him work. Sirius handled the protection ritual with aplomb and a display of skill and power that tells Arcturus he’d made the correct choice in selecting his heir.

And he certainly doesn’t mind the extra time spent with Harry.

He’s busy entertaining the baby when the wards warn him that they have a visitor. Sirius, James, and Lily are a week into building the ritual circle in the cellar of the cottage, with intermittent help from Remus when he can manage it. The three of them are napping before dinner, since they plan on going to the cottage after dinner, once it gets dark.

The wards tell him that it’s someone who’s welcome, and when Cordy pops in to say, “Master Remus is here, Lord Black.”

“Show him in,” Arcturus says. “And wake Sirius.”

Cordy nods. “Right away.”

Remus enters the study, looking shaken. “Thank you for seeing me, Lord Black. I know I’m showing up without calling ahead.”

“You’re welcome any time,” Arcturus assures him. “Sirius is on his way.”

Remus takes a deep breath. “Good. Thank you.”

“You look like you could use a drink,” Arcturus says. “There’s whiskey on the side board.”

Remus immediately goes to pour himself a couple of fingers, just as Sirius enters the room, a pillow crease marring his right cheek. “Well, that’s not a good sign,” he comments, seeing the glass in Remus’ hand. “Did Pettigrew happen?”

“You could say that,” Remus says, taking a healthy swallow. “He reached out to me, wanted to have dinner tonight. I told him that I was busy, and asked if it could wait until next week. Then, he showed up at my work. He said he’d tried to visit James and Lily, but realized that the house was under a Fidelius when he couldn’t find it anymore.”

Sirius’ gaze sharpens. “What did you tell him?”

“I played dumb,” Remus says. “I told him I knew that the Potters had gone into hiding, and I wasn’t sure where they were staying.”

“Did he ask for the location of the cottage?” Sirius asks.

“He asked, but I pretended that I had a meeting I had to attend, and couldn’t stand around talking,” Remus says. “I doubt that’s going to put him off for long, though, Padfoot. He’s going to want that information, and I can’t lie to him again, not if we want to use him to set the trap.”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair, and Arcturus watches him think. He can see the wheels turning in his grandson’s brain, and he wants to see what Sirius is going to do. “Can you either take a week’s holiday or be sick for a week?”

Remus winces. “Maybe. I don’t know. My boss really likes me, and if I say there’s a family emergency, he’d probably believe me, or he would choose to believe me.”

“Tell him it’s Death Eaters,” Arcturus says quietly. “That they’re threatening your parents, and you need to be with them.”

Remus blows out a breath. “Yes, that could work. He knows they’re not in the best health. I’ll have to tell my parents that they need to cover for me.”

“Tell them it’s for us—for Harry,” Sirius replies. 

“Which has the benefit of being the truth,” Remus mutters. “All right. I’ll owl my boss, and my parents. Is it all right if I use yours, Lord Black?”

“Of course,” Arcturus replies. “And why don’t you stay here during the interim, to make it harder for Peter to find you?”

Remus nods. “Thank you. I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“If you help us with the ritual circle, it will be done that much faster,” Sirius says. “And the faster that’s done, the sooner we can trap the dark git. And the sooner we can take care of that, the sooner we can all get on with our lives.”

Remus nods. “Okay. I’m in. Full time. I’ve been looking into the best way to cast the simulacrum spell, too. I think it can be done by the three of us. The only problem is, we’ll have to stay close, really close.”

“Like in the cellar close?” Sirius asks.

Remus nods. “Like that, but it means we don’t have to involve anyone else, and we don’t know who to trust, Padfoot.”

Sirius pinches the bridge of his nose, and Arcturus knows what he’s thinking. “James and Lily—“

“Lily will be safe here, with Harry,” Remus says. “It will be the three of us.”

“I’m not letting you three risk your lives while I stay safely tucked away,” Lily says hotly. Arcturus had seen her enter the study with James in tow, but he hadn’t said anything, wanting to see how things played out.

“Lils,” James says quiet. “It’s for Harry. We’re going to be deliberately baiting You-Know-Who. We can’t risk leaving him an orphan, not when Sirius is going to be there, too.”

“Then Sirius can stay behind,” Lily protests. 

Remus shakes his head. “Each person there has to have a tie to one of simulacrums. Honestly, the ideal formation would probably be you, James, and Sirius, because each of you could power and manipulate your own simulacrums, and Sirius could do it for Harry.”

“But the risks are too high,” Sirius says. “That would put Harry into even more jeopardy.”

“Sirius is right,” James says. “If something happens to the three of us, you’d be safe here. Lord Black would make sure of it.”

“I would,” Arcturus agrees.

Lily wipes away tears. “I am so mad at you right now.”

“You’re mad at the situation, darling,” James says. “And at the fact that Remus is right.” He looks at Remus. “That’s what you meant, about the three of us, right? Me for Lily, you for me, and Sirius for Harry?”

“That’s right,” Remus says, shooting an apologetic look at Lily. “I’m sorry.”

Lily sighs. “No, James is right. I’m not mad at you for being a good friend, or a good uncle to Harry. He needs to have one of us.” Then she sticks her finger in James’ face and says fiercely, “You will stay alive. You all will. I refuse to raise Harry on my own, even if it is with Lord Black’s help.”

“I think you can call me grandfather,” Arcturus says. “All of you.”

He probably should have offered before, but he’s offering now. And he means it.

“Thank you,” Lily says, putting her hand on his arm, and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And thank you for looking after Harry. I think you might be his favorite.”

“Hey, now,” Sirius protests, half-heartedly. 

But Arcturus just smirks.

~~~~~

Sirius has never worked harder in his life—not in school, not on the map, not on a prank. Building the ritual circle starts with cleansing the space of all magic, which was a complicated spell all its own, and required a ton of ingredients. That had taken a couple of days.

Then, they’d needed a permanent circle, with the appropriate protection runes. The best metal for that is silver, which means they have to cut the appropriate grooves in the stone floor with magic, and then pour enough molten metal into those grooves to fill them, which is why most people can’t afford to create their own. A lot of Muggle-born come from poor or middle-class families, and not many come from money, or with means.

Ritual circles are expensive, both in money and in time. There’s the cleansing and the building, the expense of silver, then the building of the wards and the circle itself. Normally, it takes a conclave or a coven, or some mixture of the two, to create a circle. But now they have themselves, people bound by oath and marriage and love. It could be unbalanced, but Lily is strong enough to carry her end.

They imbue the circle with James and Lily’s love, for each other and for Harry, and for their friends. Sirius adds his own love and strength to the wards, and so does Remus, and in the end, Sirius feels it. 

He feels the strength of the space, the meaning of it, and he believes that it will work.

“This is a good circle,” Remus says, and he’s the first to speak. “I can feel it.”

“So can I,” James says. “But it’s a woman’s circle. I feel that, too.”

Sirius laughs. “Come on, James. The lioness is in charge of the pride, and we all know who’s in charge here.”

“You had better believe it,” Lily replies. “Which is why when I tell you that I expect all of you to survive, you’ll do as I say.”

“Always,” James says with a soppy grin, kissing her intensely.

“Don’t expect me to kiss you,” Sirius says to Remus.

Remus laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“We’re ready,” James says, breaking off the kiss. “Moony, are you still willing?”

“Of course,” Remus replies easily. “I’lll contact Wormtail, tell him I’ve heard from you, and that I’m the Secret Keeper. I just didn’t know that he could be trusted, and I had to get James’ permission.”

James nods. “That makes sense. Thank you, Moony.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Remus replies.

“Once Wormtail knows the location of the cottage, it’s not going to help You-Know-Who,” James points out. “He still won’t be able to give anyone our location.”

“We can lift the Fidelius,” Sirius says. “Although that’s going to make it pretty obvious that it’s a trap.”

“You-Know-Who is probably arrogant enough to assume it won’t matter,” Lily points out. “It’s the only way to make sure that Wormtail can lead him here.”

They look around the cellar, and James says, “Once Wormtail knows, we’ll have to camp out here to make sure the simulacrums are in place.”

“We’ll gather the supplies we need. Chances are good that he’ll attack at night,” Sirius comments.

“Let’s take down the Fidelius,” James says. “We’ll gather supplies and meet back here. We know from Dumbledore that Voldemort has already been hunting Harry for months. I doubt he’ll  waste much time once he has the information he needs.”

James casts the finite to end the Fidelius, and Remus says, “I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve spoken to Wormtail.”

Remus apparates away, while the three of them go back to Black Manor. It’s the middle of the night, so everyone in the Manor is asleep, which is where they head. At this point, it will be the next day before Remus can make contact with Wormtail.

They rise late the next morning, and grab breakfast, then fill his grandfather in on their plans.

Arcturus seems approving. “You could use Cordy for supplies. House elves usually go unnoticed.”

Sirius nods. “That’s a good idea. Thanks.”

He thinks James is probably right, that it won’t take long before Voldemort strikes. If he’s been hunting Harry all this time, he’s not going to wait around. Sirius expects that it’s only going to be a night or two that they’ll have to stake the place out.

Lily definitely isn’t happy with this part of the plan, which requires her to stay behind in the Manor while they face Voldemort. Before they leave, she clings to James a little desperately. “You be as careful as you can be,” she tells the both of them, her green eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I’ll look after him,” Sirius tells her. 

“You can both look after each other and Remus,” Lily replies.

Arcturus shakes Sirius’ hand, and then pulls him in for a hug. “You’ve done well so far, my boy, but I need you to come home alive.”

Sirius nods. “I will. I promise. And we’ll show you the ritual circle when this is all over, Grandfather.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Arcturus says.

He and James apparate back to the cottage and set up camp in the basement. Cordy has already set up lunch for them.

“One way or another, this is going to end,” James says quietly. “It has to, Sirius.”

“If it doesn’t, then you should consider getting out of the country, joining Reg and Violet in Paris,” Sirius replies.

James shakes his head. “The violence is going to spill out over the continent eventually.”

“Then America, or Australia, or any one of another hundred countries that are an ocean away,” Sirius says, knowing that he sounds somewhat exasperated.

James sighs. “Lily and I have already talked about it, and we agree. We’re not sure where we’ll go, but we’ll leave, for Harry’s sake.”

Sirius doesn’t want his best friend and his family to have to flee the way that Regulus and his family had, but he also knows that if their plan isn’t successful—and they actually survive—James won’t have much of a choice.

Remus apparates into the cellar, looking a little windblown. 

“How did it go?” James asks.

Remus pushes his hair out of his face. “I think he bought my story. I admitted that I had been the Secret Keeper, but had to check with James and Lily before I told anyone where the cottage was.”

Sirius frowns. “You said ‘had been.’”

Remus smirks, the way he had when they’d just pulled off an epic prank back at Hogwarts. “I told him that I had cold feet, and begged to be let off. I was afraid that the Death Eaters would find out and come after me, and James and Lily were going to redo the spell tomorrow night with Sirius as the Secret Keeper.”

Based on James’ grin, he catches on to what Remus had done just as Sirius had. “They’ll have no choice but to try tonight,” James says slowly. “That’s brilliant, Moony!”

“I figured none of us want to be stuck in this cellar longer than we have to be,” Remus says with pardonable smugness. “And we’ll only have to hold the simulacrums for the space of today and tonight.”

“I think that just proves that you’re the smartest out of all of us, at least of the Marauders,” Sirius says.

Remus shrugs. “I just figured that a coward like Wormtail would be eager to believe that his friend is just as much of one as him. Since I haven’t joined the Order, it was an easy lie to sell.”

They’ll use the ritual circle to help power the spell, of course, but there’s still going to be some strain. As long as the illusion appears solid, it won’t need to be solid until Voldemort actually shows up.

“All right,” James says. “Let’s not take chances. We’ll start the illusions now.”

They take their places in the ritual circle, and they cast the illusion spell. Remus casts the illusion of James, and James one of Lily, with Sirius casting an illusion of baby Harry in his crib. It’s better if the illusions don’t interact with each other, so Sirius has the easiest task. James and Remus have their illusions wander around the house.

The task is boring, at least for the moment. Sirius is used to this sort of thing, though, and he knows that James is, as well. Order business is often this way—long stretches of boredom interspersed with moments of terror.

“Is it always like this?” Remus asks idly.

“Pretty much,” James admits. “But if someone is watching the house, it will be better if they see us wandering around.”

“Oh, I agree,” Remus says readily. “I’m not complaining. I just haven’t been on that many missions for the Order.”

Sirius glances at him. “Do you regret it?”

Remus quickly shakes his head. “No, I have no regrets. Besides, I’m certain that my wards have saved lives. I have your grandfather to thank for that, Padfoot.”

“Pretty sure he did that for me, and you were just the lucky beneficiary,” Sirius replies. 

“Still, I am lucky,” Remus replies. “And I’m very well aware of that.”

They speak idly of their lives, and their hopes for the future if they’re successful tonight. They stay away from any talk of their time at Hogwarts or Wormtail. They all know if they are successful, Peter Pettigrew will wind up with a long prison term in Azkaban.

And that’s if he’s lucky.

The cellar has one small window, and as darkness falls, they don’t light any candles. They can’t risk anyone knowing that they’re down there. All three of them firm up the illusions, so that they’re true simulacrums, each controlled by one of them. 

It’s nearing midnight when there’s a loud crack outside the cottage, and Sirius rolls his eyes. Voldemort and his Death Eaters like to make a lot of noise when they apparate in order to intimidate.

Too bad that the three of them aren’t going to be intimidated.

There’s a crash from upstairs, of the door being blown open. They’d rehearsed this, and the simulacrum of James, controlled by Remus, stands in Voldemort’s path. “Lily, take Harry and run!” Remus mouths.

“Avada kedavra!” Voldemort says, and they can all hear it, and see Remus shudder as the death curse strikes the simulacrum, and then he slumps. Sirius knows that Remus probably felt an echo of the pain.

Lily’s simulacrum is upstairs, standing guard over the nursery, and James mouths, “No! You can’t have Harry!”

“Out of my way, woman!” Voldemort shouts. “I’ll have that boy!”

“No!” Lily screams. “Not my baby!”

And then James shudders, and Sirius knows that the fake Lily has been hit with the killing curse. Sirius’ simulacrum of Harry wails in terror as Voldemort looms over Harry’s crib. Through Harry’s eyes, Sirius can see him, can see as he rears back with his wand pointed at Harry.

“Avada kedavra!” Voldemort says for the third time that night, and Sirius can feel the wards on the cottage shudder as the spell backlashes on him. The cottage itself shudders, too, and Sirius lets his own illusion drop.

Sirius is exhausted, but he knows they’re not finished yet. The three of them don’t even have to speak, just head upstairs with their wands out. The front door has been blown off its hinges, char marks on the wall where Voldemort had fired at the fake James, his “dead” body having dissipated when Remus let the illusion drop.

Upstairs, it’s more of the same—char marks on the wall, where Voldemort had cursed the fake Lily, and an entire wall of the nursery blown out with the damage of the spell backlash.

“Is it over?” James asks, sounding absolutely exhausted.

“It looks like it,” Sirius replies, equally weary

“What do you think?” Remus asks.

James shrugs. “I think we should go back to the Manor. Whether or not it worked, it’s over for tonight.”

Sirius suspects that James just really wants to get back to his wife and son, and Sirius wants sleep. 

They reach the Manor, and Arcturus and Lily meet them, a sleeping Harry in Lily’s arms.

“Did it work?” Lily asks.

James nods. “We think so. There were certainly signs of a spell backlash, and there was no sign of Voldemort after he tried to kill the fake Harry. I suppose we’ll know more tomorrow morning. If Voldemort is dead, the Death Eaters will feel it through the mark.”

“Go to bed,” Arcturus says firmly. “You all need rest.”

Sirius is grateful for his grandfather taking charge. He’s too tired even to think, or to absorb the events of the last day. 

He goes to bed, pausing only long enough to undress and cast a quick cleaning charm on his teeth. When he wakes up late the following morning, Sirius showers and pulls on clean clothing. It might offend his grandfather, but Sirius is unwilling to wear anything too formal. His well-worn jeans and t-shirt are soft and comfortable, and that’s what he needs right now.

Arcturus is in the study, as is typical for this time of the morning, the Daily Prophet spread out in front of him.

“What’s the news?” Sirius asks.

His grandfather closes the paper and turns it so that Sirius can read the front page right side up. THE DARK LORD DEFEATED BY POTTERS the headline screams in all capital letters.

Sirius leans in closer to read the text: The Dark Lord was destroyed last night by James and Lily Potter, and other unknown parties.

“We’ll need to go to the Ministry,” Sirius says. “I’m not sure how the news spread so quickly.”

“There’s another article that says everyone with the Dark Mark felt it,” Arcturus replies, flipping the paper open. “They caught several Death Eaters who weren’t known to be marked that way. They collapsed, and the mark has faded some.” Arcturus pauses. “You should write to your brother and let him know that he can come home.”

“You could write him, too,” Sirius counters.

Arcturus smiles. “What makes you think I haven’t? But you’re the future head of our house, and his brother. I would like him back here when Violet gives birth.”

Sirius nods. “I’ll write him now, then.”

He’s just finishing his letter to Regulus when James and Lily enter, with Harry in tow. “What’s going on?” James asks.

“It worked,” Sirius says. “Voldemort is gone.”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Lily says, bouncing Harry in her arms. “It’s over.”

“It’s over,” James agrees, putting his arm around her shoulders. “The cottage will need repairs before we can go back, but we can go home.”

“You can stay here while the repairs are being made,” Arcturus insists.

Remus enters the study, blinking sleepily. “Did it work?”

“Looks like it, Moony,” Sirius replies. “James and I should probably go to the Ministry today, to clear up any questions they might have. There will be trials, too, and we’ll probably be asked to give testimony.”

“There might be some clean up yet to do,” James adds. “I doubt all the Death Eaters will take this lying down.”

But the important thing, Sirius thinks, is that the worst is over. Voldemort is gone.

~~~~~

Regulus has already heard the news of Voldemort’s demise. It’s been reported in all the papers, as it’s international news. He gets a letter from his grandfather, who asks him to bring Violet home for the birth, and the letter from Sirius comes the following day. 

Dear Reg (and Violet),

The coast will be clear by the time Violet is ready to give birth. There are still trials to get through, but the worst is over, and Grandfather wants you home. I’m sure Violet’s parents would say the same. I’d like to be there for the birth of my nephew as well.

Love, 

Sirius

Regulus takes a deep breath. “Are you willing to go back to England for the birth?”

“If it’s safe, that’s where I want to be,” Violet says firmly. “I wanted to give birth at St. Mungo’s, with our family close by.”

Regulus nods. “Then we’ll plan on that.”

It takes them time to pack up, since they plan on staying in England to be close to family for the first six months after the birth. Regulus is nearly done with his law studies, and can easily transfer to another solicitor’s office to finish up.

They have to pack up the necessities, since they’ll be away for a while. And since portkeys make Violet incredibly ill in her pregnant state, they actually wind up taking Muggle transport back to England. They take the train from Paris to Calais, then the ferry over the channel.

Regulus isn’t expecting anyone to meet them, but then he sees Sirius standing next to a truly ridiculous car. “What are you doing?”

“We’re alive!” Sirius replies. “They’ve nominated James, Lily, Remus, and I for an Order of Merlin, which is completely weird. Isn’t that weird?”

“You’re all fucking Gryffindors, so no,” Regulus replies, and then hauls his brother in for a hug. “What are you driving?”

“It’s a Bentley,” Sirius admits. “Which is completely ridiculous, and I will admit that, but also it’s a great car with all the recent magical upgrades.”

“What does that mean?” Violet asks suspiciously. 

“It means I can get you to Black Manor with a smooth ride, and in record time,” Sirius replies. 

Violet is tired, so she takes the back seat, stretching out. The trunk appears to have no capacity limit, because it easily fits all their luggage. 

The Bentley doesn’t seem to even notice the traffic, moving around cars like they don’t exist. And it’s fast, so fast that they’re on the road approaching Black Manor in just a couple of hours, and so smooth that Violet doesn’t get an upset stomach.

“Have you seen or talked with Elias?” Sirius asks.

Regulus shakes his head. “Not since he warned me about Pettigrew. If he’s smart, he probably fled the country.”

“Well, if he needs help, we’ll give it to him,” Sirius replies. “His warning was key to our success, and we know what kind of a risk he took getting that to you.”

Regulus smiles. “I appreciate that. Maybe I’ll try sending an owl to let him know.”

“You do that,” Sirius says. “Tell him to meet you somewhere, since the Manor is still under a Fidelius. Somewhere private, and tell him I’ll be there, to give him the location.”

Regulus smiles. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

“It’s not nice, it’s the right thing to do,” Sirius insists. “That could have been you.”

Regulus rubs his eyes. “Yeah, it could have been.”

James and Lily are still at the Manor when they arrive, along with baby Harry. Violet coos over Harry immediately, “Can I hold him?” she asks.

“Of course,” Lily replies. “You’re his Auntie Vi.”

“They’re still doing repairs on our cottage,” Lily adds, transferring Harry to her arms. “So, we’re here for the duration, but I can stay as long as you think you’ll need me. Are your parents going be around? If not, we can certainly help out.”

Violet dimples. “That’s so kind of you. My parents will be around, but I would love advice from another new mom.”

“Anything you need,” Lily promises. “I know I would have loved it if my sister had been able to give me advice when Harry was first born.”

Violet looks down at Harry with a sad smile on her face. “I miss my sister.”

Lily puts an arm around her shoulders. “I can’t replace her, but maybe I can help ease the hurt.”

“You already have,” Violet replies.

They stay in the Manor until Violet is ready to go to St. Mungo’s. Even after the cottage is repaired, James and Lily are frequent visitors. Regulus can see Lily and Violet getting closer, close as sisters, as Lily coaches her through the final stages of pregnancy.

And then there’s the birth, and Violet’s parents come to St. Mungo’s. They’re gushing over the birth of their grandchild, and maybe Orion can never be a replacement for the one that they’d lost, at least they have a grandchild again.

Regulus is there when his son comes out, and he’s beautiful, with a full head of dark hair already. He cries loudly, demonstrating that he has a good set of lungs. The nurse puts his son into his arms for the first time, and Regulus stares down at his newborn son. “Hello, Orion Arcturus Black,” he murmurs. “It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance.”

He looks at Violet, who’s sweaty and exhausted, but she nods. “Go, show him off to everyone.”

His grandfather has made the trip to St. Mungo’s for the occasion, and his are the first arms that hold his son after him.

Arcturus cradles Orion expertly. “He’s a handsome boy, Regulus. We’ll hope that he takes after his mother.” 

Everyone in the waiting room laughs, including Regulus. Sirius runs a hand over Orion’s head, and Lily brings Harry close to meet his new cousin.

And it feels like family

~~~~~

Arcturus loves having his boys under his roof, and he especially loves having his great-grandson here. He doesn’t have to talk to the goblins about the future of his family.

Arcturus can just focus on living his best life with his family, in whatever time is left to him, and he hopes that he’s made some small bit of difference.

“Are you hogging the baby again?” Sirius asks, coming into the study, finding Arcturus holding little Orion while he sleeps.

“I am letting your brother and his wife sleep,” Arcturus replies. “There’s a difference.”

“You keep telling yourself that, old man,” Sirius teases. “You’re a total baby hog.”

“You’d know if you’d give me great-grandchildren,” Arcturus replies.

“Any future wife of mine would have to compete with Lily and Violet,” Sirius points out, sitting next to him on the couch in the study. “And that’s a very high bar.”

Arcturus nods, and then turns serious. “Don’t compromise, Sirius. You deserve to have a great partner. Wait until you find the right one.”

“I will,” Sirius replies. “And I promise that I will take care of the House of Black. Maybe not in the same way you would, but certainly with the same care.”

“I know you will,” Arcturus replies. “You have handled everything with both grace and wisdom so far. I was so impressed. Building a ritual circle is a life’s work.

Sirius frowns. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t want to discourage you from trying,” Arcturus replies. “I knew you could do it.”

Sirius presses his lips to Orion’s forehead, and then to Arcturus’, and he says, “I love you both.”

“I love you, too,” Arcturus says, the words torn from him, because he knows Sirius needs to hear them, even if he has a hard time saying the words.

Sirius beams at him. “Thank you, Grandfather. You’ve changed our lives for the better, and I want you to know that.”

Arcturus blinks. “Well, then something good has come of this, hasn’t it?”

“I think a lot of good things have come out of it,” Sirius replies. “I have more trials tomorrow. Elias is one of them.”

“What do you think is going to happen?” Arcturus asks.

“I think he’ll get off with a minimal sentence, maybe house arrest,” Sirius replies. “That’s what we’re arguing for.”

“I’m glad you’re helping the boy,” Arcturus says. 

Sirius smiles. “He helped us. We pay our debts.”

“You’re a good boy,” Arcturus says. “And I’m proud of you.”

“Even if I haven’t provided you with babies?” Sirius jokes.

Arcturus shakes his head. “Find love, Sirius. If you find love, then I will be happy.”

“Thank you, Grandfather,” Sirius replies. 

Chapter Text

Sirius slips into his grandfather’s bedroom as quietly as he can. Arcturus is nearly skeletal, lying under layers of blankets. His eyes are closed, and his breaths are coming in slow gasps. Harry had gone to school a month ago, and his grandfather had gone downhill quickly since then.

He sits down in the chair next to the bed, and takes his grandfather’s hand in his own. “Harry sent a letter. He’s settling in to Gryffindor well, but he wanted to let you know that he’s sorry he couldn’t be in Slytherin. Apparently, the hat said he’d do well there, but Malfoy’s son turned him off of it, and he met a Weasley on the train. He says he knows you wouldn’t be disappointed, and he’s going to do his best to unite the houses.”

His grandfather doesn’t respond, but Sirius knows just how close he is to death, and he doesn’t expect a response.

Sirius keeps talking, just on the hope that his grandfather can hear him. “Regulus is trying to talk his kid into Slytherin, but everyone keeps saying that Orion takes after me, and he idolizes Harry. I see him him arguing the Sorting Hat into submission if necessary.”

His grandfather’s breath hitches, but there’s no sign that he’s being heard other than that.

There’s not much time left. Arcturus had been a fairly stalwart if reclusive figure until six months ago, when he’d taken a turn for the worse. He’d accepted a visit from Harry before he went to Hogwarts, but hasn’t wanted to see anyone other than Sirius and Regulus since. He’d been quite firm about that until falling into a coma two days ago. Since then, he and Regulus had taken turns sitting with him.

Violet is watching Reg’s three kids, and Iggy, well—she understands family obligations.

“Iggy agreed to marry me,” Sirius says. “Not right away, probably another three months, if not six. We haven’t talked about timing, but I wanted to tell you that I found someone as awesome as Grandmother, and Lily and Violet, and she agreed to marry me.”

He thinks he feels Arcturus squeeze his hand slightly. “I thought you’d like that. I know you’re hanging on, but I want you to know that it’s okay to let go. I’m ready to lead the family. We have a passel of heirs now. Thanks to you. None of us want to see you go, but we love you, and we want you to be free of pain, so maybe it’s time.”

Regulus slips into the room, and takes the chair on the other side of the bed, and grips Arcturus’ other hand. “Grandfather, I will miss you terribly, and I hate that you will not be able to hold any future children, but it is okay to let go. Sirius will be great, and I’ll be there to keep him on the right path.”

Maybe it’s their words, or maybe Arcturus is just ready to let go, because he takes in a breath and lets go, and that’s the death rattle.

Sirius continues to hold his hand, as does Regulus.

“Fuck,” Sirius says with feeling.

“You’re going to do great, Lord Black,” Regulus says.  “I will follow you.”

Sirius looks down at his grandfather’s still form. “Only because he lead us first.”